Author: Mourad Takla

(Theodore, who was born in Arianzus and was a close friend of Gregory, went with him to Constantinople in A.D. 379 and experienced the same persecution from the Arians, who forcibly entered their church during the celebration of the divine liturgy and threw stones at the clergy. Theodore could not accept this treatment and announced his plan to take legal action against those who attacked them. Gregory wrote the following letter to persuade him not to do this, by demonstrating to him how much nobler it is to forgive than to seek revenge.)

(Theodore, a native of Arianzus, and an intimate friend of Gregory, accompanied him to Constantinople a.d. 379, and shared his persecution by the Arians, who broke into their church during the celebration of the divine liturgy, and pelted the clergy with stones. Theodore could not bring himself to put up with this, and declared his intention of prosecuting the aggressors. Gregory wrote the following letter to dissuade him from this course, by showing him how much more noble it is to forgive than to revenge.)

I hear that you are angry about the attacks committed against us by the monks and beggars. This is no surprise, since you have never been struck before and lack experience with the evils we must endure, so naturally you feel angry about such things. But we, who are experienced in many kinds of evil and have had our share of insults, may be considered trustworthy when we urge Your Reverence to respond as old age teaches and as reason suggests. Certainly what happened was dreadful, and more than dreadful—no one will deny it: our altars were desecrated, our mysteries disrupted, and we ourselves had to stand between those receiving communion and those who would stone them, and to make our prayers a remedy for stonings; the respect due to virgins was forgotten, along with the proper discipline of monks and the misery of the poor, who lost even the pity owed to them because of this violence. But perhaps it would be better to be patient and to give an example of patience to many through our sufferings. For argument is not as persuasive to people in general as is practice, that silent form of instruction.

I hear that you are indignant at the outrages which have been committed on us by the Monks and the Mendicants. And it is no wonder, seeing that you never yet had felt a blow, and were without experience of the evils we have to endure, that you did feel angry at such a thing. But we as experienced in many sorts of evil, and as having had our share of insult, may be considered worthy of belief when we exhort Your Reverence, as old age teaches and as reason suggests. Certainly what has happened was dreadful, and more than dreadful — no one will deny it: that our altars were insulted, our mysteries disturbed, and that we ourselves had to stand between the communicants and those who would stone them, and to make our intercessions a cure for stonings; that the reverence due to virgins was forgotten, and the good order of monks, and the calamity of the poor, who lost even their pity through ferocity. But perhaps it would be better to be patient, and to give an example of patience to many by our sufferings. For argument is not so persuasive of the world in general as is practice, that silent exhortation.

We think it's an important matter to obtain penalties from those who have wronged us—an important matter, I say, for even this is sometimes useful for the correction of others—but it is far greater and more godlike to bear with injuries. The former course restrains wickedness, but the latter makes people good, which is much better and more perfect than merely not being wicked. Let us consider that the great pursuit of mercifulness is set before us, and let us forgive the wrongs done to us so that we also may obtain forgiveness, and let us by kindness store up a treasure of kindness.

We think it an important matter to obtain penalties from those who have wronged us: an important matter, I say, (for even this is sometimes useful for the correction of others)– but it is far greater and more Godlike, to bear with injuries. For the former course curbs wickedness, but the latter makes men good, which is much better and more perfect than merely being not wicked. Let us consider that the great pursuit of mercifulness is set before us, and let us forgive the wrongs done to us that we also may obtain forgiveness, and let us by kindness lay up a store of kindness.

Phineas was called Zelotes because he ran his spear through the Midianite woman along with the man who was committing fornication with her, and because he removed the reproach from the children of Israel. But he was praised even more because he prayed for the people when they had sinned. So let us also take our stand and make propitiation, and let the plague be stopped, and let this be counted to us as righteousness. Moses was also praised because he killed the Egyptian who was oppressing the Israelite, but he was even more admirable because he healed his sister Miriam through his prayer when she was struck with leprosy for her complaining. Consider also what follows. The people of Nineveh were threatened with destruction, but through their tears they redeemed their sin. Manasseh was the most lawless of kings, but he stands out most prominently among those who have obtained salvation through repentance.

Phineas was called Zelotes because he ran through the Midianitish woman with the man who was committing fornication with her, Numbers 24:7 and because he took away the reproach from the children of Israel: but he was more praised because he prayed for the people when they had transgressed. Let us then also stand and make propitiation, and let the plague be stayed, and let this be counted unto us for righteousness. Moses also was praised because he slew the Egyptian that oppressed the Israelite; Exodus 2:12 but he was more admirable because he healed by his prayer his sister Miriam when she was made leprous for her murmuring. Numbers 12:40 Look also at what follows. The people of Nineve are threatened with an overthrow, but by their tears they redeem their sin. Jonah 3:10 Manasses was the most lawless of Kings, 2 Chronicles 33:12-13 but is the most conspicuous among those who have attained salvation through mourning.

O Ephraim what shall I do unto you, says God in Hosea 6:4. What anger is expressed here—and yet protection is added. What is swifter than Mercy? The disciples ask for flames of Sodom upon those who drive Jesus away, but He rejects revenge (Luke 9:54). Peter cuts off the ear of Malchus, one of those who attacked Him, but Jesus restores it. And what of the man who asks whether he must forgive a brother seven times if he has sinned against him—is he not condemned for his stinginess, since to the seven is added seventy times seven (Matthew 18:21)? What of the debtor in the Gospel who will not forgive as he has been forgiven? Is it not demanded of him more severely because of this? And what does the pattern of prayer say? Does it not require that forgiveness may be earned by forgiving?

O Ephraim what shall I do unto you, Hosea 6:4 says God. What anger is here expressed — and yet protection is added. What is swifter than Mercy? The Disciples ask for flames of Sodom upon those who drive Jesus away, but He deprecates revenge. Luke 9:54 Peter cuts off the ear of Malchus, one of those who outraged Him, but Jesus restores it. And what of him who asks whether he must seven times forgive a brother if he has trespassed, is he not condemned for his niggardliness, for to the seven is added seventy times seven? Matthew 18:21 What of the debtor in the Gospel who will not forgive as he has been forgiven? Is it not more bitterly exacted of him for this? And what says the pattern of prayer? Does it not desire that forgiveness may be earned by forgiveness?

Having so many examples, let us imitate God's mercy and not desire to learn from our own experience how great an evil it is to repay sin with punishment. You see the sequence of goodness: first it makes laws, then it commands, threatens, reproaches, holds out warnings, restrains, threatens again, and only when forced to do so strikes the blow—but this little by little, opening the way for repentance. Let us then not strike suddenly (for it is not safe to do so), but being self-restrained in our fear, let us conquer by mercy and make them our debtors by our kindness, tormenting them by their conscience rather than by anger. Let us not dry up a fig tree that may still bear fruit, nor condemn it as useless and taking up space, when possibly the care and diligence of a skilled gardener may yet heal it. And let us not so quickly destroy so great and glorious a work through what is perhaps the spite and malice of the devil. Instead, let us choose to show ourselves merciful rather than severe, and lovers of the poor rather than of abstract justice. Let us not give more weight to those who would incite us to this than to those who would restrain us, considering—if nothing else—the disgrace of appearing to contend against beggars who have this great advantage: that even if they are in the wrong, they are pitied for their misfortune. But as things are, consider that all the poor and those who support them, and all the monks and virgins are falling at your feet and praying to you on their behalf. Grant to all these people this favor for them (since they have suffered enough, as is clear from what they have asked of us), and above all grant it to me, who am their representative. And if it seems outrageous to you that we should have been dishonored by them, remember that it is far worse that we should not be listened to by you when we make this request of you. May God forgive the noble Paulus for his outrages against us.

Having so many examples let us imitate the mercy of God, and not desire to learn from ourselves how great an evil is requital of sin. You see the sequence of goodness. First it makes laws, then it commands, threatens, reproaches, holds out warnings, restrains, threatens again, and only when forced to do so strikes the blow, but this little by little, opening the way to amendment. Let us then not strike suddenly (for it is not safe to do so), but being self-restrained in our fear let us conquer by mercy, and make them our debtors by our kindness, tormenting them by their conscience rather than by anger. Let us not dry up a fig tree which may yet bear fruit, Luke 13:7 nor condemn it as useless and cumbering the ground, when possibly the care and diligence of a skilful gardener may yet heal it. And do not let us so quickly destroy so great and glorious a work through what is perhaps the spite and malice of the devil; but let us choose to show ourselves merciful rather than severe, and lovers of the poor rather than of abstract justice; and let us not make more account of those who would enkindle us to this than of those who would restrain us, considering, if nothing else, the disgrace of appearing to contend against mendicants who have this great advantage that even if they are in the wrong they are pitied for their misfortune. But as things are, consider that all the poor and those who support them, and all the Monks and Virgins are falling at your feet and praying you on their behalf. Grant to all these for them this favour (since they have suffered enough as is clear by what they have asked of us) and above all to me who am their representative. And if it appear to you monstrous that we should have been dishonoured by them, remember that it is far worse that we should not be listened to by you when we make this request of you. May God forgive the noble Paulus his outrages upon us.

(Basil the Great died on January 1, A.D. 379. Gregory of Nazianzus was prevented by very serious illness from attending his funeral, and therefore wrote as follows to Gregory of Nyssa.)

(Basil the Great died Jan. 1, a.d. 379. Gregory of Nazianzus was prevented by very serious illness from attending his funeral, and therefore wrote as follows to Gregory of Nyssa.)

This, then, was also something my sad life had to endure: hearing of Basil's death and the departure of that holy soul, which has left us to be with the Lord—something he had been preparing for his entire life. Among all the other losses I have suffered, this is the greatest: because of my physical illness, from which I am still suffering and in great danger, I cannot kiss that holy dust or be with you to share the consolations of true philosophy and to comfort our mutual friends. To see the Church's desolation, stripped of such a glory and robbed of such a crown, is something no one—at least no one with any feeling—can bear to look at or hear about. But I believe that although you have many friends and will receive many words of sympathy, you will not find comfort so much from anyone else as from yourself and your memory of him. For you two were a model to everyone of philosophy, a kind of spiritual standard, both of discipline in prosperity and of endurance in adversity. For philosophy handles prosperity with moderation and adversity with dignity. This is what I have to say to Your Excellency. But as for me who write this, what time or what words will comfort me, except your company and conversation, which our blessed one has left me in place of everything else? So that by seeing his character in you as in a bright and shining mirror, I may think that I still have him too.

This, then, was also reserved for my sad life, to hear of the death of Basil, and the departure of that holy soul, which has gone from us that it may be with the Lord, for which he had been preparing himself all his life. And among all the other losses I have had to endure this is the greatest, that by reason of the bodily sickness from which I am still suffering and in great danger, I cannot kiss that holy dust, or be with you to enjoy the consolations of a just philosophy, and to comfort our common friends. But to see the desolation of the Church, shorn of such a glory, and bereft of such a crown, is what no one, at least no one of any feeling, can bear to let his eyes look upon, or his ear hearken to. But you, I think, though you have many friends and will receive many words of condolence, yet will not derive comfort so much from any as from yourself and your memory of him; for you two were a pattern to all of philosophy, a kind of spiritual standard, both of discipline in prosperity, and of endurance in adversity; for philosophy bears prosperity with moderation and adversity with dignity. This is what I have to say to Your Excellency. But for myself who write so, what time or what words shall comfort me, except your company and conversation, which our blessed one has left me in place of all, that seeing his character in you as in a bright and shining mirror, I may think myself to possess him also!

Even though I am at home, my love is away with you in exile, because affection makes us share all things in common. Trusting in God's mercy and in your prayers, I have great hope that everything will turn out according to your wishes, and that the storm will become a gentle breeze, and that God will give you this reward for your orthodoxy: that you will overcome your opponents. Most of all I long to see you soon and to enjoy good company with you, as I pray for. But if you are delayed because of pressing business, at least encourage me with a letter, and do not think it beneath you to tell me all about your situation and to pray for me, as you usually do. May God grant you health and cheerfulness in all circumstances—you who are the common support of the whole Church.

Although I am at home, my love is expatriated with you, for affection makes us have all things common. Trusting in the mercy of God, and in your prayers, I have great hopes that all will turn out according to your mind, and that the hurricane will be turned into a gentle breeze, and that God will give you this reward for your orthodoxy, that you will overcome your opponents. Most of all I long to see you shortly, and to have a good time with you, as I pray. But if you delay owing to the pressure of affairs, at any rate cheer me by a letter, and do not disdain to tell me all about your circumstances, and to pray for me, as you are accustomed to do. May God grant you health and good spirits in all circumstances — you who are the common prop of the whole Church.

Regarding the matter you wrote to me about, here are my thoughts. I'm not upset when I'm overlooked, but I am pleased when I'm honored. The first is what I deserve, the second shows your respect. Pray for me. Forgive this brief letter—even though it's short, it's still better than saying nothing at all.

As to the subject of your letter, these are my sentiments. I am not angry at being overlooked, but I am glad when I am honoured. The one is my own desert, the other is a proof of your respect. Pray for me. Excuse this short letter, for anyhow, though it is short, it is longer than silence.

(When Saint Gregory was consecrated Bishop of Nyssa, the Imperial Throne was occupied by Valens, an enthusiastic Arian whose mind was set on destroying the Nicene Faith. To achieve this goal, he appointed a man named Demosthenes, a former clerk of the Imperial Kitchen, to be Vicar of the civil Diocese of Pontus. An old quarrel with Basil had made this man hostile to Gregory, and after harassing him in various minor ways for some time, he arranged in A.D. 375 for a Synod to be summoned to investigate some allegations of irregularity in his consecration and to try Gregory on some trivial charges of misusing Church funds. Gregory was unable to attend this Synod, which met at Ancyra, because of an attack of pleurisy. Another Synod was then summoned to meet at Nyssa itself. However, Gregory refused to appear and was deposed for being contumacious. Valens then banished him, and he seems to have fallen into very low spirits, almost into despair at the apparent triumph of the heretical party. The three letters that follow shed some light on his condition at this time. They were written in response to letters of his that are now lost, and their purpose was to comfort him in his trouble and to encourage him to take heart again in the hope of better days coming. This more cheerful tone was justified by events, for when Valens died in A.D. 378, the exiled Bishops were restored by Gratian, and Gregory was returned to his Episcopal Throne, to the great joy of the faithful of his Diocese.)

(When S. Gregory was consecrated Bishop of Nyssa the Imperial Throne was occupied by Valens, an ardent Arian, whose mind was bent on the destruction of the Nicene Faith. He appointed, with this object, one Demosthenes, a former clerk of the Imperial Kitchen, to be Vicar of the civil Diocese of Pontus. An old quarrel with Basil had made this man unfriendly to Gregory, and after persecuting him in various small ways for some time he procured, a.d. 275, the summoning of a Synod to enquire into some allegations of irregularity in his consecration, and to try Gregory on some frivolous charges of malversation of Church funds. Gregory was unable to attend this Synod, which met at Ancyra, on account of an attack of pleurisy; and another was summoned to meet at Nyssa itself. Gregory however refused to appear, and was deposed as contumacious. Thereupon Valens banished him, and he seems to have fallen into very low spirits, almost into despondency at the apparent triumph of the heretical party. The three letters which follow throw some light upon his state at this time. They were written in answer to letters of his now lost, and their object was to comfort him in his trouble and to encourage him to take heart again in the hope of a good day coming. This more cheerful tone was justified by the event, for on the death of Valens, a.d. 378, the exiled Bishops were restored by Gratian, and Gregory was replaced in his Episcopal Throne, to the great joy of the faithful of his Diocese.)

Do not let your troubles distress you too much. The less we grieve over things, the less painful they become. It is nothing unusual that the heretics have revived and are taking courage from the favorable season, and are emerging from their hiding places, as you write. They will make noise for a short time, I know, and then will hide themselves again, defeated by both the truth and by circumstances, and especially the more we entrust the whole matter to God.

Do not let your troubles distress you too much. For the less we grieve over things, the less grievous they are. It is nothing strange that the heretics have thawed, and are taking courage from the springtime, and creeping out of their holes, as you write. They will hiss for a short time, I know, and then will hide themselves again, overcome both by the truth and the times, and all the more so the more we commit the whole matter to God.

(This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil and can be found in his works as well as in Gregory's. However, with only one exception, the manuscripts attribute it to Gregory.)

(The following letter is sometimes attributed to Basil, and is found in his works as well as in those of Gregory. The mss. however, with only a single exception, give it to the latter.)

You give me pleasure both by writing and remembering me, and even greater pleasure by sending me your blessing in your letter. But if I were worthy of your sufferings and your struggles for Christ and through Christ, I would have been counted worthy to come to you, to embrace Your Piety, and to learn from your patience in your sufferings. However, since I am not worthy of this, being burdened with many afflictions and obstacles, I do the next best thing. I write to Your Perfection, and I beg you not to grow weary of remembering me. For receiving your letters is not only beneficial to me, but also gives me something to boast about to many people, and is an honor, because I am valued by a man of such great virtue and such close relationship with God that he can bring others also into relationship with Him through word and example.

You give me pleasure both by writing and remembering me, and a much greater pleasure by sending me your blessing in your letter. But if I were worthy of your sufferings and of your conflicts for Christ and through Christ I should have been counted worthy also to come to you, to embrace Your Piety, and to take example by your patience in your sufferings. But since I am not worthy of this, being troubled with many afflictions and hindrances I do what is next best. I address Your Perfection, and I beg you not to be weary of remembering me. For to be deemed worthy of your letters is not only profitable to me, but is also a matter to boast of to many people, and is an honour, because I am considered by a man of so great virtue, and such near relations with God, that he can bring others also by word and example into relation to Him.

(Eusebius had replied to the earlier letter, so Gregory wrote again, since he had the opportunity to communicate with his friend through a certain Eupraxius, a disciple of Eusebius, who was passing through Cappadocia on his way to visit his master. This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil.)

(Eusebius having replied to the former letter Gregory wrote again, having an opportunity of communicating with his friend through one Eupraxius, a disciple of Eusebius, who passed through Cappadocia on his way to visit his master. This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil.)

Our respected brother Eupraxius has always been dear to me and a true friend, but he has shown himself even more dear and true through his love for you. Even now he has rushed to your reverence, like a deer (to use David's words) seeking to quench his great and unbearable thirst with the sweet and pure spring of your patience in suffering. Please be willing to be his patron and mine.

Our reverend brother Eupraxius has always been dear to me and a true friend, but he has shown himself dearer and truer through his affections for you, inasmuch as even at the present time he has hurried to your reverence, like, to use David's words, a hart to quench his great and unendurable thirst with a sweet and pure spring at your patience in tribulations. Deign then to be his patron and mine.

Happy indeed are those who are permitted to come near you, and happier still is the one who can place upon his sufferings for Christ's sake and upon his labors for the truth a crown such as few of those who fear God have obtained. For it is not an untested virtue that you have shown, nor have you only sailed rightly and steered the souls of others in a time of calm, but you have shone in the difficulties of temptations and have been greater than your persecutors, having nobly departed from the land of your birth. Others possess the threshold of their fathers—we have the heavenly city; others perhaps hold our throne, but we have Christ. What a profitable exchange! How little we give up to receive how much! We went through fire and water, and I believe that we shall also come out into a place of refreshment. For God will not forsake us forever or abandon the true faith to persecution, but according to the multitude of our pains His comforts shall make us glad. This at any rate we believe and desire. But I beg you to pray for our humility. And as often as occasion presents itself, bless us without hesitation by a letter and cheer us up by news of yourself, as you have just been good enough to do.

Happy indeed are they who are permitted to come near you, and happier still is he who can place upon his sufferings for Christ's sake and upon his labours for the truth, a crown such as few of those who fear God have obtained. For it is not an untested virtue that you have shown, nor is it only, in a time of calm that you have sailed aright and steered the souls of others, but you have shone in the difficulties of temptations, and have been greater than your persecutors, having nobly departed from the land of your birth. Others possess the threshold of their fathers — we the heavenly City; others perhaps hold our throne, but we Christ. O what a profitable exchange! How little we give up, to receive how much! We went through fire and water, and I believe that we shall also come out into a place of refreshment. For God will not forsake us for ever, or abandon the true faith to persecution, but according to the multitude of our pains His comforts shall make us glad. This at any rate we believe and desire. But do you, I beg, pray for our humility. And as often as occasion shall present itself bless us without hesitation by a letter, and cheer us up by news of yourself, as you have just been good enough to do.

(In the year 374, Eusebius and other orthodox bishops of the East were banished by Valens, and their positions were filled with Arian intruders. Eusebius was ordered to go to Thrace, and his journey took him through Cappadocia, where he saw Basil. However, Gregory was too ill to leave his house and go to meet him, which caused him great sorrow. Instead, he sent the following letter.)

(In the year 374 Eusebius and other orthodox Bishops of the East were banished by Valens and their thrones filled with Arian intruders. Eusebius was ordered to retire to Thrace, and his journey lay through Cappadocia, where he saw Basil, but Gregory to his great grief was too unwell to leave his house and go to meet him. Instead he sent the following letter.)

When Your Reverence was passing through our region, I was so sick that I couldn't even look outside my house. I was distressed not so much because of the illness, though it brought the fear of the worst outcome, as by my inability to meet your holiness and goodness. My desire to see your venerable face was like what anyone would naturally feel who needed healing of spiritual wounds and expected to receive it from you. But though my sins prevented me from meeting you at that time, your goodness now makes it possible for me to find a remedy for my trouble. If you would be willing to remember me in your acceptable prayers, this will store up for me every blessing from God, both in this present life and in the age to come. For when such a man, such a fighter for the Faith of the Gospel, one who has endured such persecutions and won for himself such confidence before the all-righteous God through his patience in tribulation—when such a man consents to be my patron also in his prayers, this will gain for me, I am convinced, as much strength as I would have gained through one of the holy martyrs. Therefore let me ask you to remember your Gregory continually in all the matters in which I desire to be worthy of your remembrance.

When Your Reverence was passing through our country I was so ill as not to be able even to look out of my house. And I was grieved not so much on account of the illness, though it brought about the fear of the worst, as by the inability to meet your holiness and goodness. My longing to see your venerable face was like that which a man would naturally feel who needed healing of spiritual wounds, and expected to receive it from you. But though at that time the effect of my sins was that I missed the meeting with you, it is now by your goodness possible for me to find a remedy for my trouble, for if you will deign to remember me in your acceptable prayers, this will be to me a store of every blessing from God, both in this my life and in the age to come. For that such a man, such a combatant for the Faith of the Gospel, one who has endured such persecutions, and won for himself such confidence before the all-righteous God by his patience in tribulation — that such a man should deign to be my patron also in his prayers will gain for me, I am persuaded, as much strength as I should have gained through one of the holy martyrs. Therefore let me entreat you to remember your Gregory without ceasing in all the matters in which I desire to be worthy of your remembrance.

(In 374 AD Amphilochius was made Bishop of Iconium, and his father, a man with the same name, was deeply upset at being deprived of his son in this way. He had been counting on his son to support him in his old age, and he accused Gregory of being responsible. Gregory, who had just lost his own father, writes to correct this misunderstanding and to show him how much he fears the burden of episcopal responsibilities for his friend as well as for himself.)

(In a.d. 374 Amphilochius was made Bishop of Iconium; and his father, a man of the same name, was deeply aggrieved at being thus deprived of his son, to whom he had looked to support him in his old age, and accused Gregory of being the cause. Gregory, who had just lost his own father, writes to undeceive him, and to convince him how much he dreads the burden of the responsibilities of the episcopate for his friend as well as for himself.)

Are you grieving? I, of course, am full of joy! Are you weeping? As you can see, I am celebrating and taking pride in how things stand! Are you upset because your son has been taken from you and promoted to a position of honor because of his virtue, and do you think it is a terrible disaster that he is no longer with you to care for you in your old age and provide you with all the attention and service he used to give? But it does not grieve me that my father has left me for his final journey, from which he will never return to me, and I will never see him again! I do not blame you for this, nor do I expect you to properly console me, since I know that personal troubles leave no room to think about the troubles of others. No one is so devoted or so wise that they can rise above their own suffering and comfort another person when they themselves need comfort. But you, on the other hand, pile one blow on top of another when you blame me, as I hear you are doing, and think that your son and my brother is being neglected by us, or even betrayed by us—which is an even more serious accusation—or that we do not recognize the loss that all his friends and relatives have suffered, especially me, since I had placed my hopes for life in him and looked to him as my only protection, my only good adviser, and my only partner in godliness. But what grounds do you have for this opinion? If it is the first charge, let me assure you that I came to visit you specifically because I was troubled by the rumor, and I was ready to discuss the matter with you while there was still time to talk about it. But you shared everything with me except this, either because you were experiencing the same distress or for some other reason I do not know. But if it is the last charge, I was prevented from meeting with you again by my grief, by the honor I owed my father, and by his funeral, which I could not prioritize anything above—especially when my sorrow was fresh. It would have been not only wrong but also completely inappropriate to be unreasonably philosophical and act as if I were above human nature. Besides, I thought I was already committed to these circumstances, especially since his situation had reached the conclusion that seemed good to the One who governs all our affairs. So much for this matter. Now I ask you to set aside your grief, which I am sure is completely unreasonable. And if you have any other complaint, bring it forward so that you will not cause both me and yourself partial grief, and put yourself in a position unworthy of your noble character by blaming me instead of others, even though I have done you no wrong. In fact, if I must tell the truth, I have been equally dominated by our common friend, even though you used to consider me your only benefactor.

Are you grieving? I, of course, am full of joy! Are you weeping? I, as you see, am keeping festival and glorying in the present state of things! Are you grieved because your son is taken from you and promoted to honour on account of his virtue, and do you think it a terrible misfortune that he is no longer with you to tend your old age, and, as his custom is, to bestow on you all due care and service? But it is no grief to me that my father has left me for the last journey, from which he will return to me no more, and I shall never see him again! Then I for my part do not blame you, nor do I ask you for due condolence, knowing as I do that private troubles allow no leisure for those of strangers; for no man is so friendly and so philosophical as to be above his own suffering and to comfort another when needing comfort himself. But you on the contrary heap blow on blow, when you blame me, as I hear you do, and think that your son and my brother is neglected by us, or even betrayed by us, which is a still heavier charge; or that we do not recognize the loss which all his friends and relatives have suffered, and I more than all, because I had placed in him my hopes of life, and looked upon him as the only bulwark, the only good counsellor, and the only sharer of my piety. And yet, on what grounds do you form this opinion? If on the first, be assured that I came over to you on purpose, and because I was troubled by the rumour, and I was ready to share your deliberations while it was still time for consultation about the matter; and you imparted anything to me rather than this, whether because you were in the same distress, or with some other purpose, I know not what. But if the last, I was prevented from meeting you again by my grief, and the honour I owed my father, and his funeral, over which I could not give anything precedence, and that when my sorrow was fresh, and it would not only have been wrong but also quite improper to be unseasonably philosophical, and above human nature. Moreover, I thought that I was previously engaged by the circumstances, especially as his had come to such a conclusion as seemed good to Him who governs all our affairs. So much concerning this matter. Now I beg you to put aside your grief, which is most unreasonable I am sure; and if you have any further grievance, bring it forward that you may not grieve both me in part and yourself, and put yourself in a position unworthy of your nobility, blaming me instead of others, though I have done you no wrong, but, if I must say the truth, have been equally tyrannized over by our common friend, although you used to think me your only benefactor.

(The Armenian referred to is probably Eustathius, Bishop of Sebaste, the capital of Armenia Minor. He had been a disciple of Arius, but more than once professed the Nicene Faith, changing his opinions depending on his company. His personal character, however, stood very high, and for a long time Saint Basil regarded him with affectionate esteem. In fact, Saint Basil's Rule for Monks is based on one drawn up by him. But after Basil's elevation to the episcopate, Eustathius began to oppose him and to slander him on all sides, and even entered openly into communion with the Arians. It would seem that this man tried to win Amphilochius over to his side, and through him Gregory.)

(The Armenian referred to is probably Eustathius Bishop of Sebaste, the capital of Armenia Minor. He had been a disciple of Arius, but more than once professed the Nicene Faith, changing his opinions with his company. His personal character however stood very high, and for a long time S. Basil regarded him with affectionate esteem. Indeed S. Basil's Rule for Monks is based on one drawn up by him. But after Basil's elevation to the Episcopate Eustathius began to oppose him and to calumniate him on all sides, and even entered openly into communion with the Arians. It would seem that this man tried to get Amphilochius round to his side, and through him Gregory.)

Your excellent Honor's instruction is not barbaric, but Greek, or rather Christian. However, the Armenian you take such pride in is completely barbaric and far removed from our honor.

The Injunction of your inimitable Honour is not barbaric, but Greek, or rather christian; but as for the Armenian on whom you pride yourself so, he is a downright barbarian, and far from our honour.