to beseech you to lend a hand in this good undertaking, and with great speed to hasten your arrival there. For there will be a reward for your departure, and it will be by no means small; but if you show great zeal in these works, the reward will be much greater. For it is far better and more useful to undertake such a journey than to sit at home. For it is not possible for those who sit there A to reap as much gain as you can if you reside in those parts—gain in the salvation of such souls, gain from the dangers faced, and the reward for such readiness; for there is a recompense for such readiness. Therefore, considering how great are the crowns you are laying up for yourself, do not hesitate, do not delay, but once arrived, set about the departure with all concern, caring nothing for needs. For I have spoken to my most honorable and godly presbyter Constantius, that whether there is need to spend on the building of churches or on relieving the needs of the brothers, he should provide you with the means more liberally and with greater abundance than before. Therefore, having the ease of providing from there, and above all doing that which is pleasing to God, cast away all hesitation, hasten to arrive quickly, and from there make it known to us; that we, even though we live in a grievous wilderness, may reap great consolation from it. For if we learn that you have arrived there with this mind, prepared to do and suffer everything for the salvation of the souls in that place, we shall not consider ourselves to be living in a wilderness, by reason of such great joy. We desire, indeed, to see you arrive; but because I have said this is more necessary, we fear lest the winter might close the road to you there; for this reason we urge you, and beseech you to make haste.
LV. To Symeon and Marus, presbyters, and to those living the monastic life in the region of Apamea.
Although we are separated from you by a great distance of travel, and are living in a grievous wilderness, yet having learned of the virtue of your souls and your great philosophy, by which you bring light and splendor to all who are there, we have become your ardent lovers. And since, because of the severity of the winter and the length of the journey, it is for now impossible to enjoy your physical presence, we have been eager to communicate by letter, beseeching and entreating you to offer at length prayers to God for the warding off of the evils that have seized the whole world, and to rouse all others with great zeal to do the same, and to inform us—whenever the opportunity arises—of your health by letter; so that, although separated by distance, B and relegated to the very corners of the earth, we may yet reap great consolation by hearing often of the state of your health. Indeed, the most beloved and sweetest presbyter John has filled us with great pleasure, because in such a hardship of time he decided to depart from home and set out for Phoenicia. Therefore I beseech you, having weighed in your minds the magnitude of such a noble work, if you find any excellent and generous men who are able to lend a helping hand to the magnitude of these achievements, that you send them along with him with great alacrity of mind, considering how great a reward you will reap from this.
LVI. To the monks Romulus and Byzus.
For my part, I desired to see you arrive here; and having heard of your piety, I have become your ardent admirer, and in the eyes of love I imagine you present. But since this is for the time being impossible, both because of the length of the journey, the season of winter, and the fear of the Isaurians, I have been eager to converse with you by letter, making clear to you the affection which we have for your piety. For it is possible to love even those who are far away and have never been seen. Such is the power of love: it is not divided by the length of the road, nor withered by the passage of time, nor overcome by the imposition of trials, but it conquers all these things, and rises to a height ineffable. For this reason we too, since we love you exceedingly, C have not become sluggish in any of these things, but rather we both write to you and ask you to inform us of your health. For thus, even living in the wilderness, we shall be filled with great consolation when we learn that those who live in such a way, and walk this narrow and constrained road, are in sound and robust health.
LVII. To Adolia.
Although you yourself write to us rarely, we, however, as often as we find men going from here to those parts, shall not cease to write to your nobility. And we would indeed have wished you to come here and see us, and we desire this above all else. But since this has perhaps seemed to your nobility to be arduous and difficult (for otherwise the danger of the Isaurians is completely gone), we for our part will not cease to provide for ourselves that consolation which we are accustomed to receive while we write to you frequently. For as often as there is opportunity for a carrier who is traveling that way, we experience no ordinary pleasure when we send letters to you. Now that these things are known to you, my most charming and godly lady, I wish that you too would take care to write to us as often as possible concerning your health and state of mind. For just as we in no way reproach you concerning the departure, since that matter has appeared to you to have difficulty; in the same way, we shall not cease to be vexed with you for a long silence.