(At the request of Anthimus, it appears that Saint Gregory wrote to Saint Basil a letter, which no longer survives, proposing a meeting between the competing Metropolitans. Basil took offense at this well-intentioned proposal and wrote a harsh letter to Saint Gregory, to which the following is the reply.)
(At the request of Anthimus it would appear that S. Gregory wrote to S. Basil a letter, not now extant, proposing a conference between the rival Metropolitans. Basil took umbrage at the well-meant proposal, and wrote a stiff letter to S. Gregory, to which the following is the reply.)
How fiery and colt-like you are in your letters! I'm not surprised that now you have just become the property of glory, you want to show me what you find glory to be, so that you may make yourself more impressive, like those painters who depict the seasons. But to explain the whole matter about the bishops and the letter that annoyed you—what my starting point was, how far I went, and where I stopped—seems to me too lengthy for a letter and more suited to a historical account than an apology. To explain it briefly: the most noble Anthimus came to us with certain bishops, either to visit my father (this at least was the excuse) or to do what he actually did. He tested me in many ways and on many subjects: dioceses, the marshes of Sasima, my ordination—flattering, questioning, threatening, pleading, blaming, praising, drawing circles around himself, as though I ought only to look at him and his new Metropolis as being the greater. I said, "Why do you draw your line to include our city, for we too consider our church to be truly a Mother of Churches, and that from ancient times?" In the end he left without getting what he wanted, quite out of breath, and accusing me of Basilism, as if it were a kind of Philipism. Do you think I wronged you in this? Now look at the letter from me, who you say insulted you. They prepared a synodal summons for me, and when I refused it and said the thing was an insult, they then asked as an alternative that through me you should be invited to discuss these matters. I agreed to this in order to prevent their first plan from being carried out, placing the whole matter in your hands—whether you choose to call them together, and where and when. And if I have not injured you in this, tell me where there is room for injury. If you need to learn this from me, I will read you the letter that Anthimus sent me after invading the marshes, despite my prohibitions and threats, insulting and reviling me, and as it were singing a song of triumph over my defeat. What reason is there that I should offend him for your sake and at the same time displease you, as though I were currying favor with him? You should have learned this first, my dear friend, and even if it had been so, you should not have insulted me—if only because I am a priest. But if you are very much inclined to showiness and quarrelsomeness, and speak as my superior—as the Metropolitan to an insignificant suffragan, or even as to a bishop without a see—I too have a little pride to set against yours. That is very easy for anybody and is perhaps the most appropriate course.
How hotly and like a colt you skip in your letters. Nor do I wonder that when you have just become the property of glory you should wish to show me what you find glory to be, so that you may make yourself more majestic, like those painters who picture the seasons. But, to explain the whole matter about the Bishops, and the letter by which you were annoyed; what was my starting point, and how far I went, and where I stopped, appears to me to be too long a matter for a letter, and to be a subject not so much for an apology as for a history. To explain it to you concisely:– the most noble Anthimus came to us with certain Bishops, whether to visit my Father (this at least was the pretext), or to act as he did act. He sounded me in many ways and on many subjects; dioceses, the marshes of Sasima, my ordination,…flattering, questioning, threatening, pleading, blaming, praising, drawing circles round himself, as though I ought only to look at him and his new Metropolis, as being the greater. Why, I said, do you draw your line to include our city, for we too deem our Church to be really a Mother of Churches, and that too from ancient times? In the end he went away without having gained his object, much out of breath, and reproaching me with Basilism, as if it were a kind of Philipism. Do you think I did you wrong in this? And now look at the letter from me, who, you say, insulted you. They fashioned a Synodal summons to me; and when I declined it and said that the thing was an insult, they then asked as an alternative that through me you should be invited to deliberate upon these matters. This I promised, in order to prevent their first plan being carried out; placing the whole matter in your hands, if you choose to call them together, and where and when. And if I have not injured you in this, tell me where there is room for injury. If you have to learn this from me, I will read you the letter which Anthimus sent me, after invading the marshes, notwithstanding my prohibitions and threats, insulting and reviling me, and as it were singing a song of triumph over my defeat. And what reason is there that I should offend him for your sake and at the same time displease you, as though I were currying favour with him? You ought to have learned this first, my dear friend; and even if it had been so, you should not have insulted me — if only because I am a Priest. But if you are very much disposed to ostentation and quarrelsomeness, and speak as my Superior — as the Metropolitan to an insignificant Suffragan, or even as to a Bishop without a See — I too have a little pride to set against yours. That is very easy to anybody, and is perhaps the most suitable course.