THE LETTERS OF ST. JEROME
LETTER I.
TO INNOCENT.
Not only the first of the letters but probably the
earliest extant composition of Jerome (c. 370 A. D.). Innocent, to whom
it is addressed, was one of the little band of enthusiasts whom Jerome
gathered round him in Aquileia. He followed his friend to Syria, where
he died in 374 A.D. (See Letter III., 3.)
1. You have frequently asked me, dearest Innocent,
not to pass over in silence the marvellous event which has happened in
our own day. I have declined the task from modesty and, as I now feel,
with justice, believing myself to be incapable of it, at once because
bureau language is inadequate to the divine praise, and because
inactivity, acting like rust upon the intellect, has dried up any
little power of expression that I have ever had. You in reply urge that
in the things of God we must look not at the work which we are able to
accomplish, but at the spirit in which it is undertaken, and that he
can never be at a loss for words who has believed on the Word.
2. What, then, must I do? The task is beyond me, and
yet I dare not decline it. I am a mere unskilled passenger, and I find
myself placed in charge of a freighted ship. I have not so much as
handled a rowboat on a lake, and now I have to trust myself to the
noise and turmoil of the Euxine. I see the shores sinking beneath the
horizon, "sky and sea on every side";(1) darkness lowers over the
water, the clouds are black as night, the waves only are white with
foam. You urge me to hoist the swelling sails, to loosen the sheets,
and to take the helm. At last I obey your commands, and as charity can
do all things, I will trust in the Holy Ghost to guide my course, and I
shall console myself, whatever the event. For, if our ship is wafted by
the surf into the wished-for haven, I shall be content to be told that
the pilotage was poor. But, if through my unpolished diction we run
aground amid the rough cross-currents of language, you may blame my
lack of power, but you will at least recognize my good intentions.
3. To begin, then: Vercellae is a Ligurian town,
situated not far from the base of the Alps, once important, but now
sparsely peopled and fallen into decay. When the consular(1) was
holding his visitation there, a poor woman and her paramour were
brought before him--the charge of adultery had been fastened upon them
by the husband--and were both consigned to the penal horrors of a
prison. Shortly after an attempt was made to elicit the truth by
torture, and when the blood-stained hook smote the young man's livid
flesh and tore furrows in his side, the unhappy wretch sought to avoid
prolonged pain by a speedy death. Falsely accusing his own passions, he
involved another in the charge; and it appeared that he was of all men
the most miserable, and that his execution was just inasmuch as he had
left to an innocent woman no means of self-defence. But the woman,
stronger in virtue if weaker in sex, though her frame was stretched
upon the rack, and though her hands, stained with the filth of the
prison, were tied behind her, looked up to heaven with her eyes, which
alone the torturer had been unable to bind, and while the tears rolled
down her face, said: "Thou art witness, Lord Jesus, to whom nothing is
hid, who triest the reins and the heart.(2) Thou art witness that it is
not to save my life that I deny this charge. I refuse to lie because to
lie is sin. And as for you, unhappy man, if you are bent on hastening
your death, why must you destroy not one innocent person, but two? I
also, myself, desire to die. I desire to put off this hated body, but
not as an adulteress. I offer my neck; I welcome the shining sword
without fear; yet I will take my innocence with me.
2
He does not die who is slain while purposing so to live."
4. The consular, who had been feasting his eyes upon
the bloody spectacle, now, like a wild beast, which after once tasting
blood always thirsts for it, ordered the torture to be doubled, and
cruelly gnashing his teeth, threatened the executioner with like
punishment if he failed to extort from the weaker sex a confession
which a man's strength had not been able to keep back.
5. Send help, Lord Jesus. For this one creature of
Thine every species of torture is devised. She is bound by the hair to
a stake, her whole body is fixed more firmly than ever on the rack;
fire is brought and applied to her feet; her sides quiver beneath the
executioner's probe; even her breasts do not escape. Still the woman
remains unshaken; and, triumphing in spirit over the pain of the body,
enjoys the happiness of a good conscience, round which the tortures
rage in vain.(1) The cruel judge rises, overcome with passion. She
still prays to God. Her limbs are wrenched from their sockets she only
turns her eyes to heaven. Another confesses what is thought their
common guilt. She, for the confessor's sake, denies the confession,
and, in peril of her own life, clears one who is in peril of his.
6. Meantime she has but one thing to say "Beat me,
burn me, tear me, if you will; I have not done it. If you will not
believe my words, a day will come when this charge shall be carefully
sifted. I have One who will judge me." Wearied out at last, the
torturer sighed in response to her groans; nor could he find a spot on
which to inflict a fresh wound. His cruelty overcome, he shuddered to
see the body he had torn. Immediately the consular cried, in a fit of
passion, "Why does it surprise you, bystanders, that a woman prefers
torture to death? It takes two people, most assuredly, to commit
adultery; and I think it more credible that a guilty woman should deny
a sin than that an innocent young man should confess one."
7. Like sentence, accordingly, was passed on both,
and the condemned pair were dragged to execution. The entire people
poured out to see the sight; indeed, so closely were the gates thronged
by the out-rushing crowd, that you might have fancied the city itself
to be migrating. At the very first stroke of the sword the head of the
hapless youth was cut off, and the headless trunk rolled over in its
blood. Then came the woman's turn. She knelt down upon the ground, and
the shining sword was lifted over her quivering neck. But though the
headsman summoned all his strength into his bared arm, the moment it
touched her flesh the fatal blade stopped short, and, lightly glancing
over the skin, merely grazed it sufficiently to draw blood. The striker
saw, with terror, his hand unnerved, and, amazed at his defeated skill
and at his drooping sword, he whirled it aloft for another stroke.
Again the blade fell forceless on the woman, sinking harmlessly on her
neck, as though the steel feared to touch her. The enraged and panting
officer, who had thrown open his cloak at the neck to give his full
strength to the blow, shook to the ground the brooch which clasped the
edges of his mantle, and not noticing this, began to poise his sword
for a fresh stroke. "See," cried the woman, "a jewel has fallen from
your shoulder. Pick up what you have earned by hard toil, that you may
not lose it."
8. What, I ask, is the secret of such confidence as
this? Death draws near, but it has no terrors for her. When smitten she
exults, and the executioner turns pale. Her eyes see the brooch, they
fail to see the sword. And, as if intrepidity in the presence of death
were not enough, she confers a favor upon her cruel foe. And now the
mysterious Power of the Trinity rendered even a third blow vain. The
terrified soldier, no longer trusting the blade, proceeded to apply the
point to her throat, in the idea that though it might not cut, the
pressure of his hand might plunge it into her flesh. Marvel unheard of
through all the ages! The sword bent back to the hilt, and in its
defeat looked to its master, as if confessing its inability to slay.
9. Let me call to my aid the example of the three
children,(1) who, amid the cool, encircling fire, sang hymns,(2)
instead of weeping, and around whose turbans and holy hair the flames
played harmlessly. Let me recall, too, the story of the blessed
Daniel,(3) in whose presence, though he was their natural prey, the
lions crouched, with fawning tails and frightened mouths. Let Susannah
also rise in the nobility of her faith before the thoughts of all; who,
after she had been condemned by an unjust sentence, was saved through a
youth inspired by the Holy Ghost.(4) In both cases the Lord's mercy was
alike shewn; for while Susannah was set free by
3
the judge, so as not to die by the sword, this woman, though condemned
by the judge, was acquitted by the sword.
10. Now at length the populace rise in arms to
defend the woman. Men and women of every age join in driving away the
executioner, shouting round him in a surging crowd. Hardly a man dares
trust his own eyes. The disquieting news reaches the city close at
hand, and the entire force of constables is mustered. The officer who
is responsible for the execution of criminals bursts from among his
men, and
Staining his hoary hair with soiling dust, exclaims:
"What! citizens, do you mean to seek my life? Do you intend to make me
a substitute for her? However much your minds are set on mercy, and
however much you wish to save a condemned woman, yet assuredly I--I who
am innocent--ought not to perish." His tearful appeal tells upon the
crowd, they are all benumbed by the influence of sorrow, and an
extraordinary change of feeling is manifested. Before it had seemed a
duty to plead for the woman's life, now it seemed a duty to allow her
to be executed.
11. Accordingly a new sword is fetched, a new
headsman appointed. The victim takes her place, once more strengthened
only with the favor of Christ. The first blow makes her quiver, beneath
the second she sways to and fro, by the third she falls wounded to the
ground. Oh, majesty of the divine power highly to be extolled! She who
previously had received four strokes without injury, now, a few moments
later, seems to die that an innocent man may not perish in her stead.
12. Those of the clergy whose duty it is to wrap the
blood-stained corpse in a winding-sheet, dig out the earth and, heaping
together stones, form the customary tomb. The sunset comes on quickly,
and by God's mercy the night of nature arrives more swiftly than is its
wont. Suddenly the woman's bosom heaves, her eyes seek the light, her
body is quickened into new life. A moment after she sighs, she looks
round, she gets up and speaks. At last she is able to cry: "The Lord is
on my side; I will not fear. What can man do unto me?"(2)
13. Meantime an aged woman, supported out of the
funds of the church, gave back her spirit to heaven from which it
came.(3) It seemed as if the course of events had been thus purposely
ordered, for her body took the place of the other beneath the mound. In
the gray dawn the devil comes on the scene in the form of a
constable,(1) asks for the corpse of her who had been slain, and
desires to have her grave pointed out to him. Surprised that she could
have died, he fancies her to be still alive. The clergy show him the
fresh turf, and meet his demands by pointing to the earth lately heaped
up, taunting him with such words as these: "Yes, of course, tear up the
bones which have been buried! Declare war anew against the tomb, and if
even that does not satisfy you, pluck her limb from limb for birds and
beasts to mangle! Mere dying is too good for one whom it took seven
strokes to kill."
14. Before such opprobrious words the executioner
retires in confusion, while the woman is secretly revived at home.
Then, lest the frequency of the doctor's visits to the church might
give occasion for suspicion, they cut her hair short and send her in
the company of some virgins to a sequestered country house. There she
changes her dress for that of a man, and scars form over her wounds.
Yet even after the great miracles worked on her behalf, the laws still
rage against her. So true is it that, where there is most law, there,
there is also most injustice.(2)
15. But now see whither the progress of my story has
brought me; we come upon the name of our friend Evagrius.(3) So great
have his exertions been in the cause of Christ that, were I to suppose
it possible adequately to describe them, I should only show my own
folly; and were I minded deliberately to pass them by, I still could
not prevent my voice from breaking out into cries of joy. Who can
fittingly praise the vigilance which enabled him to bury, if I may so
say, before his death Auxentius(4) of Milan, that curse brooding over
the church? Or who can sufficiently extol the discretion with which he
rescued the Roman bishop(5) from the toils of the net in which he was
fairly entangled, and showed him the means at once of overcoming his
opponents and of sparing them in their discomfiture? But
Such topics I must leave to other bards,
Shut out by envious straits of time and space.(6)
I am satisfied now to record the conclusion of
4
my tale. Evagrius seeks a special audience of the Emperor;(1)
importunes him with his entreaties, wins his favor by his services, and
finally gains his cause through his earnestness. The Emperor restored
to liberty the woman whom God had restored to life.
LETTER II.
TO THEODOSIUS AND THE REST OF THE
ANCHORITES.
Written from Antioch, 374 A.D., while Jerome was
still in doubt as to his future course. Theodosius appears to have been
the head of the solitaries in the Syrian Desert.
How I long to be a member of your company, and with
uplifting of all my powers to embrace your admirable community! Though,
indeed, these poor eyes are not worthy to look upon it. Oh! that I
could behold the desert, lovelier to me than any city! Oh! that I could
see those lonely spots made into a paradise by the saints that throng
them! But since my sins prevent me from thrusting into your blessed
company a head laden with every transgression, I adjure you (and I know
that you can do it) by your prayers to deliver me from the darkness of
this world. I spoke of this when I was with you, and now in writing to
you I repeat anew the same request; for all the energy of my mind is
devoted to this one object. It rests with you to give effect to my
resolve. I have the will but not the power; this last can only come in
answer to your prayers. For my part, I am like a sick sheep astray from
the flock. Unless the good Shepherd shall place me on his shoulders and
carry me back to the fold,(2) my steps will totter, and in the very
effort of rising I shall find my feet give way. I am the prodigal
son(3) who although I have squandered all the portion entrusted to me
by my father, have not yet bowed the knee in submission to him; not yet
have I commenced to put away from me the allurements of my former
excesses. And because it is only a little while since I have begun not
so much to abandon my vices as to desire to abandon them, the devil now
ensnares me in new toils, he puts new stumbling-blocks in my path, be
encompasses me on every side.
The seas around, and all around the main.(4)
I find myself in mid-ocean, unwilling to retreat and
unable to advance. It only remains that your prayers should win for me
the gale of the Holy Spirit to waft me to the haven upon the desired
shore.
LETTER III.
TO RUFINUS THE MONK.(1)
Written from Antioch, 374 A.D., to Rufinus in Egypt.
Jerome narrates his travels and the events which have taken place since
his arrival in Syria, particularly the deaths of Innocent and Hylas (
3). He also describes the life of Bonosus, who was now a hermit on an
island in the Adriatic ( 4). The main object of the letter is to induce
Rufinus to come to Syria.
1. That God gives more than we ask Him for,(2) and
that He often grants us things which "eye hath not seen nor ear heard,
neither have they entered into the heart of man,"(3) I knew indeed
before from the mystic declaration of the sacred volumes; but now,
dearest Rufinus, I have had proof of it in my own case. For I who
fancied it too bold a wish to be allowed by an exchange of letters to
counterfeit to myself your presence in the flesh, hear that you are
penetrating the remotest parts of Egypt, visiting the monks and going
round God's family upon earth. Oh, if only the Lord Jesus Christ would
suddenly transport me to you as Philip was transported to the
eunuch,(4) and Habakkuk to Daniel,(5) with what a close embrace would I
clasp your neck, how fondly would I press kisses upon that mouth which
has so often joined with me of old in error or in wisdom. But as I am
unworthy (not that you should so come to me but) that I should so come
to you, and because my poor body, weak even when well, has been
shattered by frequent illnesses; I send this letter to meet you instead
of coming myself, in the hope that it may bring you hither to me caught
in the meshes of love's net.
2. My first joy at such unexpected good tidings was
due to our brother, Heliodorus. I desired to be sure of it, but did not
dare to feel sure, especially as he told me that he had only heard it
from some one else, and as the strangeness of the news impaired the
credit of the story. Once more my wishes hovered in uncertainty and my
mind wavered, till an Alexandrian monk who had some time previously
been sent over by the dutiful zeal of the people to the Egyptian
confessors (in will already martyrs(6)), impelled me by his presence to
believe the tidings. Even then, I must admit I still hesitated. For on
5
the one hand he knew nothing either of your name or country: yet on the
other what he said seemed likely to be true, agreeing as it did with
the hint which had already reached me. At last the truth broke upon me
in all its fulness, for a constant stream of persons passing through
brought the report: "Rufinus is at Nitria, and has reached the abode of
the blessed Macarius."(1) At this point I cast away all that restrained
my belief, and then first really grieved to find myself ill. Had it not
been that my wasted and enfeebled frame lettered my movements, neither
the summer heat nor the dangerous voyage should have had power to
retard the rapid steps of affection. Believe me, brother, I look
forward to seeing you more than the storm-tossed mariner looks for his
haven, more than the thirsty fields long for the showers, more than the
anxious mother sitting on the curving shore expects her son.
3. After that sudden whirlwind(2) dragged me from
your side, severing with its impious wrench the bonds of affection in
which we were knit together,
The dark blue raincloud lowered o'er my head:
On all sides were the seas, on all the sky.(3)
I wandered about, uncertain where to go. Thrace,
Pontus, Bithynia, the whole of Galatia and Cappadocia, Cilicia also
with its burning heat, one after another shattered my energies. At last
Syria presented itself to me as a most secure harbor to a shipwrecked
man. Here, after undergoing every possible kind of sickness, I lost one
of my two eyes; for Innocent,(4) the half of my soul, (5) was taken
away from me by a sudden attack of fever. The one eye which I now
enjoy, and which is all in all to me, is our Evagrius,(6) upon whom I
with my constant infirmities have come as an additional burden. We had
with us also Hylas,(7) the servant of the holy Melanium,(8) who by his
stainless conduct had wiped out the taint of his previous servitude.
His death opened afresh the wound which had not yet healed. But as the
apostle's words forbid us to mourn for those who sleep,(9) and as my
excess of grief has been tempered by the joyful news that has since
come to me, I recount this last, that, if you have not heard it, you
may learn it; and that, if you know it already, you may rejoice over it
with me.
4. Bonosus,(1) your friend, or, to speak more truly,
mine as well as yours, is now climbing the ladder foreshown in Jacob's
dream.(2) He is bearing his cross, neither taking thought for the
morrow(3) nor looking back at what he has left.(4) He is sowing in
tears that he may reap in joy.(5) As Moses in a type so he in reality
is lifting up the serpent in the wilderness.(6) This is a true story,
and it may well put to shame the lying marvels described by Greek and
Roman pens. For here you have a youth educated with us in the refining
accomplishments of the world, with abundance of wealth, and in rank
inferior to none of his associates; yet he forsakes his mother, his
sisters, and his dearly loved brother, and settles like a new tiller of
Eden on a dangerous island, with the sea roaring round its reefs; while
its rough crags, bare rocks, and desolate aspect make it more terrible
still. No peasant or monk is to be found there. Even the little
Onesimus(7) you know of, in whose kisses he used to rejoice as in those
of a brother, in this tremendous solitude no longer remains at his
side. Alone upon the island--or rather not alone, for Christ is with
him--he sees the glory of God, which even the apostles saw not save in
the desert. He beholds, it is true, no embattled towns, but he has
enrolled his name in the new city.(8) Garments of sackcloth disfigure
his limbs, yet so clad he will be the sooner caught up to meet Christ
in the clouds.(9) No watercourse pleasant to the view supplies his
wants, but from the Lord's side he drinks the water of life.(10) Place
all this before your eyes, dear friend, and with all the faculties of
your mind picture to yourself the scene. When you realize the effort of
the fighter then you will be able to praise his victory. Round the
entire island roars the frenzied sea, while the beetling crags along
its winding shores resound as the billows beat against them. No grass
makes the ground green; there are no shady copses and no fertile
fields. Precipitous cliffs surround his dreadful abode as if it were a
prison. But he, careless, fearless, and armed from head to foot with
the apostle's armor,(11) now listens to God by reading the
6
Scriptures, now speaks to God as he prays to the Lord; and it may be
that, while he lingers in the island, he sees some vision such as that
once seen by John.(1)
5. What snares, think you, is the devil now weaving?
What stratagems is he preparing? Perchance, mindful of his old
trick,(2) he will try to tempt Bonosus with hunger. But he has been
answered already: "Man shall not live by bread alone."(3) Perchance he
will lay before him wealth and fame. But it shall be said to him: "They
that desire to be rich fall into a trap(4) and temptations,"(5) and
"For me all glorying is in Christ."(6) He will come, it may be, when
the limbs are weary with fasting, and rack them with the pangs of
disease; but the cry of the apostle will repel him: "When I am weak,
then am I strong," and "My strength is made perfect in weakness."(7) He
will hold out threats of death; but the reply will be: "I desire to
depart and to be with Christ."(8) He will brandish his fiery darts, but
they will be received on the shield of faith.(9) In a word, Satan will
assail him, but Christ will defend. Thanks be to Thee, Lord Jesus, that
in Thy day I have one able to pray to Thee for me. To Thee all hearts
are open, Thou searchest the secrets of the heart,(10) Thou seest the
prophet shut up in the fish's belly in the midst of the sea.(11) Thou
knowest then how he and I grew up together from tender infancy to
vigorous manhood, how we were fostered in the bosoms of the same
nurses, and carried in the arms of the same bearers; and how after
studying together at Rome we lodged in the same house and shared the
same food by the half savage banks of the Rhine. Thou knowest, too,
that it was I who first began to seek to serve Thee. Remember, I
beseech Thee, that this warrior of Thine was once a raw recruit with
me. I have before me the declaration of Thy majesty: "Whosoever shall
teach and not do shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven."(12)
May he enjoy the crown of virtue, and in return for his daily
martyrdoms may he follow the Lamb robed in white raiment!(13) For" in
my Father's house are many mansions,"(14) and "one star differeth from
another star in glory."(15) Give me strength to raise my head to a
level with the saints' heels!(16) I willed, but he performed. Do Thou
therefore pardon me that I failed to keep my resolve, and reward him
with the guerdon of his deserts.
I may perhaps have been tedious, and have said more
than the short compass of a letter usually allows; but this, I find, is
always the case with me when I have to say anything in praise of our
dear Bonosus.
6. However, to return to the point from which I set
out, I beseech you do not let me pass wholly out of sight and out of
mind. A friend is long sought, hardly found, and with difficulty kept.
Let those who will, allow gold to dazzle them and be borne along in
splendor, their very baggage glittering with gold and silver. Love is
not to be purchased, and affection has no price. The friendship which
can cease has never been real. Farewell in Christ.
LETTER IV.
TO FLORENTIUS.
Sent to Florentius along with the preceding letter,
which jerome requests him to deliver to Rufinus. This Florentius was a
rich Italian who had retired to Jerusalem to pursue the monastic life.
Jerome subsequently speaks of him as "a distinguished monk so pitiful
to the needy that he was generally known as the father of the poor."
(Chron. ad A.D. 381.)
1. How much your name and sanctity are on the lips
of the most different peoples you may gather from the fact that I
commence to love you before I know you. For as, according to the
apostle, "Some men's sins are evident going before unto judgment,"(1)
so contrariwise the report of your charity is so widespread that it is
considered not so much praiseworthy to love you as criminal to refuse
to do so. I pass over the countless instances in which you have
supported Christ,(2) fed, clothed, and visited Him. The aid you
rendered to our brother Heliodorus(3) in his need may well loose the
utterance of the dumb. With what gratitude, with what commendation,
does he speak of the kindness with which you smoothed a pilgrim's path.
I am, it is true, the most sluggish of men, consumed by an unendurable
sickness; yet keen affection and desire have winged my feet, and I have
come forward to salute and embrace you. I wish you every good thing,
and pray that the Lord may establish our nascent friendship.
2. Our brother, Rufinus, is said to have come from
Egypt to Jerusalem with the de-
7
vout lady, Melanium. He is inseparably bound to me in brotherly love;
and I beg you to oblige me by delivering to him the annexed letter. You
must not, however, judge of me by the virtues that you find in him. For
in him you will see the clearest tokens of holiness, whilst I am but
dust and vile dirt, and even now, while still living, nothing but
ashes. It is enough for me if my weak eyes can bear the brightness of
his excellence. He has but now washed himself(1) and is clean, yea, is
made white as snow;(2) whilst I, stained with every sin, wait day and
night with trembling to pay the uttermost farthing.(3) But since "the
Lord looseth the prisoners,"(4) and resteth upon him who is of a
contrite spirit, and that trembleth at His words,(5) perchance he may
say even to me who lie in the grave of sin: "Jerome, come forth."(6)
The reverend presbyter, Evagrius, warmly salutes
you. We both with united respect salute the brother, Martinianus.(7) I
desire much to see him, but I am impeded by the chain of sickness.
Farewell in Christ.
LETTER V.
TO FLORENTIUS.
Written a few months after the preceding (about the
end of 374 A.D.) from the Syrian Desert. After dilating on his
friendship for Florentius, and making a passing allusion to Rufinus,
Jerome mentions certain books copies of which he desires to be sent to
him. He also speaks of a runaway slave about whom Florentius had
written to him.
1. Your letter, dear friend, finds me dwelling in
that quarter of the desert which is nearest to Syria and the Saracens.
And the reading of it rekindles in my mind so keen a desire to set out
for Jerusalem that I am almost ready to violate my monastic vow in
order to gratify my affection. Wishing to do the best I can, as I
cannot come in person I send you a letter instead; and thus, though
absent in the body, I come to you in love and in spirit.(8) For my
earnest prayer is that our infant friendship, firmly cemented as it is
in Christ, may never be rent asunder by time or distance. We ought
rather to strengthen the bond by an interchange of letters. Let these
pass between us, meet each other on the way, and converse with us.
Affection will not lose much if it keeps up an intercourse of this kind.
2. You write that our brother, Rufinus, has not yet
come to you. Even if he does come it will do little to satisfy my
longing, for I shall not now be able to see him. He is too far away to
come hither, and the conditions of the lonely life that I have adopted
forbid me to go to him. For I am no longer free to follow my own
wishes. I entreat you, therefore, to ask him to allow you to have the
commentaries of the reverend Rhetitius,(1) bishop of Augustodunum,(2)
copied, in which he has so eloquently explained the Song of Songs. A
countryman of the aforesaid brother Rufinus, the old man Paul,(3)
writes that Rufinus has his copy of Tertullian, and urgently requests
that this may be returned. Next I have to ask you to get written on
paper by a copyist certain books which the subjoined list(4) will show
you that I do not possess. I beg also that you will send me the
explanation of the Psalms of David, and the copious work on Synods of
the reverend Hilary,(5) which I copied for him(6) at Treves with my own
hand. Such books, you know, must be the food of the Christian soul if
it is to meditate in the law of the Lord day and night.(7)
Others you welcome beneath your roof, you cherish
and comfort, you help out of your own purse; but so far as I am
concerned, you have given me everything when once you have granted my
request. And since, through the Lord's bounty, I am rich in volumes of
the sacred library,(8) you may command me in turn. I will send you what
you please; and do not suppose that an order from you will give me
trouble. I have pupils devoted to the art of copying. Nor do I merely
promise a favor because I am asking one. Our brother, Heliodorus,(9)
tells me that there are many parts of the Scriptures which you seek and
cannot find. But even if you have them all, affection is sure to assert
its rights and to seek for itself more than it already has.
3. As regards the present master of your slave--of
whom you have done me the honor to write--I have no doubt but that he
is his kidnapper. While I was still at Antioch the presbyter, Evagrius,
often reproved him in my presence. To whom he made this answer: "I have
nothing to fear." He declares that his master has dismissed him. If you
both want him, he is here; send
8
him whither you will. I think I am not wrong in refusing to allow a
runaway to stray farther. Here in the wilderness I cannot myself
execute your orders; and therefore I have asked my dear friend Evagrius
to push the affair vigorously, both for your sake and for mine. I
desire your welfare in Christ.
LETTER VI.
TO JULIAN, A DEACON OF ANTIOCH.
This letter, written in 374 A.D., is chiefly
interesting for its mention of Jerome's sister. It would seem that she
had fallen into sin and had been restored to a life of virtue by the
deacon, Julian. Jerome speaks of her again in the next letter ( 4).
It is an old saying, "Liars are disbelieved even
when they speak the truth."(1) And from the way in which you reproach
me for not having written, I perceive that this has been my lot with
you. Shall I say, "I wrote often, but the bearers of my letters were
negligent"? You will reply, "Your excuse is the old one of all who fail
to write." Shall I say, "I could not find any one to take my letters"?
You will say that numbers of persons have gone from my part of the
world to yours. Shall I contend that I have actually given them
letters? They not having delivered them, will deny that they have
received them. Moreover, so great a distance separates us that it will
be hard to come at the truth. What shall I do then? Though really not
to blame, I ask your forgiveness, for I think it better to fall back
and make overtures for peace than to keep my ground and offer battle.
The truth is that constant sickness of body and vexation of mind have
so weakened me that with death so close at hand I have not been as
collected as usual. And lest you should account this plea a false one,
now that I have stated my case, I shall, like a pleader, call witnesses
to prove it. Our reverend brother, Heliodorus, has been here; but in
spite of his wish to dwell in the desert with me, he has been
frightened away by my crimes. But my present wordiness will atone for
my past remissness; for, as Horace says in his satire:(2)
All singers have one fault among their friends:
They never sing when asked, unasked they never cease.
Henceforth I shall overwhelm you with
such bundles of letters that you will take the opposite line and beg me
not to write·
I rejoice that my sister(1)--to you a daughter in
Christ--remains steadfast in her purpose, a piece of news which I owe
in the first instance to you. For here where I now am I am ignorant not
only as to what goes on in my native land, but even as to its continued
existence. Even though the Iberian viper(2) shall rend me with his
baneful fangs, I will not fear men's judgment, seeing that I shall have
God to judge me. As one puts it:
Shatter the world to fragments if you will:
'Twill fall upon a head which knows not fear.(3)
Bear in mind, then, I pray you, the apostle's
precept(4) that we should make our work abiding; prepare for yourself a
reward from the Lord in my sister's salvation; and by frequent letters
increase my joy in that glory in Christ which we share together.
LETTER VII.
TO CHROMATIUS, JOVINUS, AND EUSEBIUS.(6)
This letter (written like the preceding in 374 A.D.)
is addressed by Jerome to three of his former companions in the
religious life. It commends Bonosus ( 3), asks guidance for the
writer's sister (on 4), and attacks the conduct of Lupicinus, Bishop of
Stridon ( 5).
1. Those whom mutual affection has joined together,
a written page ought not to sunder. I must not, therefore, distribute
my words some to one and some to another. For so strong is the love
that binds you together that affection unites all three of you in a
bond no less close than that which naturally connects two of your
number.(6) Indeed, if the conditions of writing would only admit of it,
I should amalgamate your names and express them under a single symbol.
The very letter which I have received from you challenges me in each of
you to see all three, and in all three to recognize each. When the
reverend Evagrius transmitted it to me in the corner of the desert
which stretches between the Syrians and the Saracens, my joy was
intense. It wholly surpassed the rejoicings felt at Rome when the
defeat of Cannae was retrieved, and Marcellus at Nola cut to pieces the
forces of Hannibal. Evagrius frequently comes to see me, and cherishes
me in Christ as his own bowels.(7) Yet as he is separated from me by a
long distance, his departure has gener-
9
ally left me as much regret as his arrival has brought me joy.
2. I converse with your letter, I embrace it, it
talks to me; it alone of those here speaks Latin. For hereabout you
must either learn a barbarous jargon or else hold your tongue. As often
as the lines--traced in a well-known hand--bring back to me the faces
which I hold so dear, either I am no longer here, or else you are here
with me. If you will credit the sincerity of affection, I seem to see
you all as I write this.
Now at the outset I should like to ask you one
petulant question. Why is it that, when we are separated by so great an
interval of land and sea, you have sent me so short a letter? Is it
that I have deserved no better treatment, not having first written to
you? I cannot believe that paper can have failed you while Egypt
continues to supply its wares. Even if a Ptolemy had closed the seas,
King Attalus would still have sent you parchments from Pergamum, and so
by his skins you could have made up for the want of paper. The very
name parchment is derived from a historical incident of the kind
which occurred generations ago.(1) What then? Am I to suppose the
messenger to have been in haste? No matter how long a
letter may be, it can be written in the course of a night. Or had you
some business to attend to which prevented you from writing? No claim
is prior to that of affection. Two suppositions remain,
either that you felt disinclined to write or else that I did not
deserve a letter. Of the two I prefer to charge you with sloth than to
condemn myself as undeserving. For it is easier to mend neglect than to
quicken love.
3. You tell me that Bonosus, like a true son of the
Fish, has taken to the water.(2) As for me who am still foul with my
old stains, like the basilisk and the scorpion I haunt the dry
places.(3) Bonosus has his heel already on the serpent's head, whilst I
am still as food to the same serpent which by divine appointment
devours the earth.(4) He can scale already that ladder of which the
psalms of degrees(5) are a type; whilst I, still weeping on its first
step, hardly know whether I shall ever be able to say: "I will lift up
mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help."(1) Amid the
threatening billows of the world he is sitting in the safe shelter of
his island,(2) that is, of the church's pale, and it may be that even
now, like John, he is being called to eat God's book;(3) whilst I,
still lying in the sepulchre of my sins and bound with the chains of my
iniquities, wait for the Lord's command in the Gospel: "Jerome, come
forth."(4) But Bonosus has done more than this. Like the prophet(5) he
has carried his girdle across the Euphrates (for all the devil's
strength is in the loins(6)), and has hidden it there in a hole of the
rock. Then, afterwards finding it rent, he has sung: "O Lord, thou hast
possessed my reins.(7) Thou hast broken my bonds in sunder. I will
offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving."(8) But as for me,
Nebuchadnezzar has brought me in chains to Babylon, to the babel that
is of a distracted mind. There he has laid upon me the yoke of
captivity; there inserting in my nostrils a ring of iron,(9) he has
commanded me to sing one of the songs of Zion. To whom I have said,
"The Lord looseth the prisoners; the Lord openeth the eyes of the
blind."(10) To complete my contrast in a single sentence, whilst I pray
for mercy Bonosus looks for a crown.
4. My sister's conversion is the fruit of the
efforts of the saintly Julian. He has planted, it is for you to water,
and the Lord will give the increase.(11) Jesus Christ has given her to
me to console me for the wound which the devil has inflicted on her. He
has restored her from death to life. But in the words of the pagan
poet, for her
There is no safety that I do not fear.(12)
You know yourselves how slippery is the path of
youth--a path on which I have myself fallen,(13) and which you are now
traversing not without fear. She, as she enters upon it, must have the
advice and the encouragement of all, she must be aided by frequent
letters from you, my reverend brothers. And--for "charity endureth all
things,"(14)--I beg you to get from Pope(15) Valerian(16) a letter to
confirm her resolution. A girl's courage, as you know, is strength-
10
ened when she realizes that persons in high place are interested in her.
5. The fact is that my native land is a prey to
barbarism, that in it men's only God is their belly,(1) that they live
only for the present, and that the richer a man is the holier he is
held to be. Moreover, to use a well-worn proverb, the dish has a cover
worthy of it; for Lupicinus is their priest.(2) Like lips like lettuce,
as the saying goes--the only one, as Lucilius tells us,(3) at which
Crassus ever laughed--the reference being to a donkey eating thistles.
What I mean is that an unstable pilot steers a leaking ship, and that
the blind is leading the blind straight to the pit. The ruler is like
the ruled.
6. I salute your mother and mine with the respect
which, as you know, I feel towards her. Associated with you as she is
in a holy life, she has the start of you, her holy children, in that
she is your mother. Her womb may thus be truly called golden. With her
I salute your sisters, who ought all to be welcomed wherever they go,
for they have triumphed over their sex and the world, and await the
Bridegroom's coming,(4) their lamps replenished with oil. O happy the
house which is a home of a widowed Anna, of virgins that are
prophetesses, and of twin Samuels bred in the Temple!(6) Fortunate the
roof which shelters the martyr-mother of the Maccabees, with her sons
around her, each and all wearing the martyr's crown!(5) For although
you confess Christ every day by keeping His commandments, yet to this
private glory you have added the public one of an open confession; for
it was through you that the poison of the Arian heresy was formerly
banished from your city.
You are surprised perhaps at my thus making a fresh
beginning quite at the close of my letter. But what am I to do? I
cannot refuse expression to my feelings. The brief limits of a letter
compel me to be silent; my affection for you urges me to speak. I write
in haste, my language is confused and ill-arranged; but love knows
nothing of order.
LETTER VIII.
TO NICEAS, SUB-DEACON OF AQUILEIA.
Niceas, the sub-deacon, had accompanied Jerome to
the East but had now returned home. In after-years he became bishop of
Aquileia in succession to Chromatius. The date of the letter is 374 A.D.
The comic poet Turpilius(1) says of the exchange of
letters that it alone makes the absent present. The remark, though
occurring in a work of fiction, is not untrue. For what more real
presence--if I may so speak--can there be between absent friends than
speaking to those whom they love in letters, and in letters hearing
their reply? Even those Italian savages, the Cascans of Ennius, who--as
Cicero tells us in his books on rhetoric--hunted their food like beasts
of prey, were wont, before paper and parchment came into use, to
exchange letters written on tablets of wood roughly planed, or on
strips of bark torn from the trees. For this reason men called
letter-carriers tablet-bearers,(2) and letter-writers bark-users,(3)
because they used the bark of trees. How much more then are we, who
live in a civilized age, bound not to omit a social duty performed by
men who lived in a state of gross savagery, and were in some respects
entirely ignorant of the refinements of life. The saintly Chromatius,
look you, and the reverend Eusebius, brothers as much by compatibility
of disposition as by the ties of nature, have challenged me to
diligence by the letters which they have showered upon me. You,
however, who have but just left me, have not merely unknit our new-made
friendship; you have torn it asunder--a process which Laelius, in
Cicero's treatise,(4) wisely forbids. Can it be that the East is so
hateful to you that you dread the thought of even your letters coming
hither? Wake up, wake up, arouse yourself from sleep, give to affection
at least one sheet of paper. Amid the pleasures of life at home
sometimes heave a sigh over the journeys which we have made together.
If you love me, write in answer to my prayer. If you are angry with me,
though angry still write. I find my longing soul much comforted when I
receive a letter from a friend, even though that friend be out of
temper with me.
LETTER IX.
TO CHRYSOGONUS, A MONK OF AQUILEIA.
A bantering letter to an indifferent correspondent.
Of the same date as the preceding.
Heliodorus,(5) who is so dear to us both, and who
loves you with an affection no less
11
deep than my own, may have given you a faithful account of my feelings
towards you; how your name is always on my lips, and how in every
conversation which I have with him I begin by recalling my pleasant
intercourse with you, and go on to marvel at your lowliness, to extol
your virtue, and to proclaim your holy love.
Lynxes, they say, when they look behind them, forget
what they have just seen, and lose all thought of what their eyes have
ceased to behold. And so it seems to be with you. For so entirely have
you forgotten our joint attachment that you have not merely blurred but
erased the writing of that epistle which, as the apostle tells us,(1)
is written in the hearts of Christians. The creatures that I have
mentioned lurk on branches of leafy trees and pounce on fleet roes or
frightened stags. In vain their victims fly, for they carry their
tormentors with them, and these rend their flesh as they run. Lynxes,
however, only hunt when an empty belly makes their mouths dry. When
they have satisfied their thirst for blood, and have filled their
stomachs with food, satiety induces forgetfulness, and they bestow no
thought on future prey till hunger recalls them to a sense of their
need.
Now in your case it cannot be that you have already
had enough of me. Why then do you bring to a premature close a
friendship which is but just begun? Why do you let slip what you have
hardly as yet fully grasped? But as such remissness as yours is never
at a loss for an excuse, you will perhaps declare that you had nothing
to write. Had this been so, you should still have written to inform me
of the fact.
LETTER X.
TO PAUL, AN OLD MAN OF CONCORDIA.
Jerome writes to Paul of Concordia, a centenarian ( 2),
and the owner of a good theological library (3), to lend him some
commentaries. In return he sends him his life (newly written) of Paul
the hermit.(2) The date of the letter is 374 A. D.
1. The shortness of man's life is the punishment for
man's sin; and the fact that even on the very threshold of the light
death constantly overtakes the new-born child proves that the times are
continually sinking into deeper depravity. For when the first tiller of
paradise had been entangled by the serpent in his snaky coils, and had
been forced in consequence to migrate earthwards, although his
deathless state was changed for a mortal one, yet the sentence(1) of
man's curse was put off for nine hundred years, or even more, a period
so long that it may be called a second immortality.
Afterwards sin gradually grew more and more virulent, till the
ungodliness of the giants(2) brought in its train the shipwreck of the
whole world. Then when the world had been cleansed by
the baptism--if I may so call it--of the deluge, human life
was contracted to a short span. Yet even this we have
almost altogether wasted, so continually do our iniquities
fight against the divine purposes. For how few there are, either who go
beyond their hundredth year, or who, going beyond it, do not regret
that they have done so; according to that which the Scripture witnesses
in the book of Psalms: "the days of our years are threescore years and
ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yetis their
strength labor and sorrow."(3)
2. Why, say you, these opening reflections so remote
and so far fetched that one might use against them the Horatian
witticism: Back to the eggs which Leda laid for Zeus, The bard is fain
to trace the war of Troy?(4)
Simply that I may describe in fitting terms your
great age and hoary head as white as Christ's.(5) For see, the
hundredth circling year is already passing over you, and yet, always
keeping the commandments of the Lord, amid the circumstances of your
present life you think over the blessedness of that which is to come.
Your eyes are bright and keen, your steps steady, your hearing good,
your teeth are white, your voice musical, your flesh firm and full of
sap; your ruddy cheeks belie your white hairs, your strength is not
that of your age. Advancing years have not, as we too often see them
do, impaired the tenacity of your memory; the coldness of your blood
has not blunted an intellect at once warm and wary.(6) Your face is not
wrinkled nor your brow furrowed. Lastly, no tremors palsy your hand or
cause it to travel in crooked pathways over the wax on which you write.
The Lord shows us in you the bloom of the resurrection that is to he
ours; so that whereas in others who die by inches whilst yet living, we
recognize the results of sin, in your case we ascribe it
12
to righteousness that you still simulate youth at an age to which it is
foreign. And although we see the like haleness of body in many even of
those who are sinners, in their case it is a grant of the devil to lead
them into sin, whilst in yours it is a gift of God to make you rejoice.
3. Tully in his brilliant speech on behalf of
Flaccus(1) describes the learning of the Greeks as "innate frivolity
and accomplished vanity."
Certainly their ablest literary men used to receive
money for pronouncing eulogies upon their kings or princes. Following
their example, I set a price upon my praise. Nor must you suppose my
demand a small one. You are asked to give me the pearl of the
Gospel,(2) "the words of the Lord," "pure words, even as the silver
which from the earth is tried, and purified seven times in the
fire,"(3) I mean the commentaries of Fortunatian(4) and--for its
account of the persecutors--the History of Aurelius Victor,(5) and with
these the Letters of Novatian;(6) so that, learning the poison set
forth by this schismatic, we may the more gladly drink of the antidote
supplied by the holy martyr Cyprian. In the mean time I have sent to
you, that is to say, to Paul the aged, a Paul that is older still.(7) I
have taken great pains to bring my language down to the level of the
simpler sort. But, somehow or other, though you fill it with water, the
jar retains the odor which it acquired when first used.(8) If my little
gift should please you, I have others also in store which (if the Holy
Spirit shall breathe favorably), shall sail across the sea to you with
all kinds of eastern merchandise.
LETTER XI.
TO THE VIRGINS OF AEMONA.
AEmona was a Roman colony not far from Stridon,
Jerome's birthplace. The virgins to whom the note is addressed had
omitted to answer his letters, and he now writes to upbraid them for
their remissness. The date of the letter is 374 A. D.
This scanty sheet of paper shows in what a
wilderness I live, and because of it I have to say much in few words.
For, desirous though I am to speak to you more fully, this miserable
scrap compels me to leave much unsaid. Still ingenuity make up for lack
of means, and by writing small I can say a great deal. Observe, I
beseech you, how I love you, even in the midst of my difficulties,
since even the want of materials does not stop me from writing to you.
Pardon, I beseech you, an aggrieved man: if I speak
in tears and in anger it is because I have been injured. For in return
for my regular letters you have not sent me a single syllable. Light, I
know, has no communion with darkness,(1) and God's handmaidens no
fellowship with a sinner, yet a harlot was allowed to wash the Lord's
feet with her tears,(2) and dogs are permitted to eat of their masters'
crumbs.(3) It was the Saviour's mission to call sinners and not the
righteous; for, as He said Himself, "they that be whole need not a
physician.(4) He wills the repentance of a sinner rather than his
death,(6) and carries home the poor stray sheep on His own
shoulders.(6) So, too, when the prodigal son returns, his father
receives him with joy.(7) Nay more, the apostle says: "Judge nothing
before the time."(8) For "who art thou that judgest another man's
servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth."(9) And "let him
that standeth take heed lest he fall."(10) "Bear ye one another's
burdens."(11)
Dear sisters, man's envy judges in one way, Christ
in another; and the whisper of a corner is not the same as the sentence
of His tribunal. Many ways seem right to men which are afterwards found
to be wrong.(12) And a treasure is often stowed in earthen vessels.(13)
Peter thrice denied his Lord, yet his bitter tears restored him to his
place. "To whom much is forgiven, the same loveth much."(14) No word is
said of the flock as a whole, yet the angels joy in heaven over the
safety of one sick ewe.(15) And if any one demurs to this reasoning,
the Lord Himself has said: "Friend, is thine eye evil because I am
good?"(16)
LETTER XII.
TO ANTONY, MONK.
The subject of this letter is similar to that of the
preceding. Of Antony nothing is known except that some MSS. describe
him as "of AEmona." The date of the letter is 374 A.D.
While the disciples were disputing concerning
precedence our Lord, the teacher of
13
humility, took a little child and said: "Except ye be converted and
become as little children ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven."(1)
And lest He should seem to preach more than he practised, He fulfilled
His own precept in His life. For He washed His disciples' feet,(2) he
received the traitor with a kiss,(3) He conversed with the woman of
Samaria,(4) He spoke of the kingdom of heaven with Mary at His feet,(5)
and when He rose again from the dead He showed Himself first to some
poor women.(6) Pride is opposed to humility, and through it Satan
lost his eminence as an archangel. The Jewish people perished in their
pride, for while they claimed the chief seats and salutations in the
market place,(7) they were superseded by the Gentiles, who had before
been counted as "a drop of a bucket."(8) Two poor fishermen, Peter and
James, were sent to confute the sophists and the wise men of the world.
As the Scripture says: "God resisteth the proud and giveth grace to the
humble."(9) Think, brother, what a sin it must be which has God for its
opponent. In the Gospel the Pharisee is rejected because of his pride,
and the publican is accepted because of his humility.(10)
Now, unless I am mistaken, I have already sent you
ten letters, affectionate and earnest, whilst you have not deigned to
give me even a single line. The Lord speaks to His servants, but you,
my brother servant, refuse to speak to me. Believe me, if reserve did
not check my pen, I could show my annoyance in such invective that you
would have to reply--even though it might be in anger. But since anger
is human, and a Christian must not act injuriously, I fall back once
more on entreaty, and beg you to love one who loves you, and to write
to him as a servant should to his fellow-servant. Farewell in the Lord.
LETTER XIII.
TO CASTORINA, HIS MATERNAL AUNT.
An interesting letter, as throwing some light on
Jerome's family relations. Castorina, his maternal aunt, had, for some
reason, become estranged from him, and he now writes to her to effect a
reconciliation. Whether he succeeded in doing so, we do not know. The
date of the letter is 374 A. D.
The apostle and evangelist John rightly says, in his
first epistle, that "whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer."(1)
For, since murder often springs from hate, the hater, even though he
has not yet slain his victim, is at heart a murderer. Why, you ask, do
I begin in this style? Simply that you and I may both lay aside past
ill feeling and cleanse our hearts to be a habitation for God. "Be ye
angry," David says, "and sin not," or, as the apostle more fully
expresses it, "let not the sun go down upon your wrath."(2) What then
shall we do in the day of judgment, upon whose wrath the sun has
gone down not one day but many years? The Lord says in the Gospel: "If
thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy
brother hath aught against thee; leave there thy gift before the altar,
and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and
offer thy gift."(3) Woe to me, wretch that I am; woe, I had
almost said, to you also. This long time past we have
either offered no gift at the altar or have offered it whilst
cherishing anger "without a cause." How have we been able in our
daily prayers to say "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our
debtors,"(4) whilst our feelings have been at variance with our
words, and our petition inconsistent with our conduct? Therefore I
renew the prayer which I made a year ago in a previous letter,(5) that
the Lord's legacy of peace(6) may be indeed ours, and that my desires
and your feelings may find favor in His sight. Soon we shall stand
before His judgment seat to receive the reward of harmony restored or
to pay the penalty for harmony broken. In case you shall prove
unwilling--I hope that it may not be so--to accept my advances, I for
my part shall be free. For this letter, when it is read, will insure my
acquittal.
LETTER XIV.
TO HELlODORUS, MONK.
Heliodorus, originally a soldier, but now a
presbyter of the Church, had accompanied Jerome to the East, but, not
feeling called to the solitary life of the desert, had returned to
Aquileia. Here be resumed his clerical duties, and in course of time
was raised to the episcopate as bishop of Altinum.
The letter was written in the first bitterness of
separation and reproaches Heliodorus for having gone back from the
perfect way of the ascetic life. The description given of this is
highly colored and seems to have produced a great impression in the
West. Fabiola was so much enchanted by it that she learned the letter
by heart.(7) The date is 373 or 374 A.D.
1. SO conscious are you of the affection which
exists between us that you cannot but
14
recognize the love and passion with which I strove to prolong our
common sojourn in the desert. This very letter--blotted, as you see,
with tears--gives evidence of the lamentation and weeping with which I
accompanied your departure. With the pretty ways of a child you then
softened your refusal by soothing words, and I, being off my guard,
knew not what to do. Was I to hold my peace? I could not conceal my
eagerness by a show of indifference. Or was I to entreat you yet more
earnestly? You would have refused to listen, for your love was not like
mine. Despised affection has taken the one course open to it. Unable to
keep you when present, it goes in search of you when absent. You asked
me yourself, when you were going away, to invite you to the desert when
I took up my quarters there, and I for my part promised to do so.
Accordingly I invite you now; come, and come quickly. Do not call to
mind old ties; the desert is for those who have left all. Nor let the
hardships of our former travels deter you. You believe in Christ,
believe also in His words: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all
these things shall be added unto you."(1) Take neither scrip nor staff.
He is rich enough who is poor--with Christ.
2. But what is this, and why do I foolishly
importune you again? Away with entreaties, an end to coaxing words.
Offended love does well to be angry. You have spurned my petition;
perhaps you will listen to my remonstrance. What keeps you, effeminate
soldier, in your father's house? Where are your ramparts and trenches?
When have you spent a winter in the field? Lo, the trumpet sounds from
heaven! Lo, the Leader comes with clouds!(2) He is armed to subdue the
world, and out of His mouth proceeds a two-edged sword(3) to mow down
all that encounters it. But as for you, what will you do? Pass straight
from your chamber to the battle-field, and from the cool shade into the
burning sun? Nay, a body used to a tunic cannot endure a buckler; a
head that has worn a cap refuses a helmet; a hand made tender by disuse
is galled by a sword-hilt.(4) Hear the proclamation of your King: "He
that is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth not with me
scattereth."(5) Remember the day on which you enlisted, when, buried
with Christ in baptism, you swore fealty to Him, declaring that for His
sake you would spare neither father nor mother. Lo, the enemy is
striving to slay Christ in your breast. Lo, the ranks of the foe sigh
over that bounty which you received when you entered His service.
Should your little nephew(1) hang on your neck, pay no regard to him;
should your mother with ashes on her hair and garments rent show you
the breasts at which she nursed you, heed her not; should your father
prostrate himself on the threshold, trample him under foot and go your
way. With dry eyes fly to the standard of the cross. In such cases
cruelty is the only true affection.
3. Hereafter there shall come--yes, there shall
come--a day when you will return a victor to your true country, and
will walk through the heavenly Jerusalem crowned with the crown of
valor. Then will you receive the citizenship thereof with Paul.(2) Then
will you seek the like privilege for your parents. Then will you
intercede for me who have urged you forward on the path of victory.
I am not ignorant of the fetters which you may
plead as hindrances. My breast is not of iron nor my heart of stone. I
was not born of flint or suckled by a tigress.(3) I have passed through
troubles like yours myself. Now it is a widowed sister who throws her
caressing arms around you. Now it is the slaves, your foster-brothers,
who cry, "To what master are you leaving us?" Now it is a nurse bowed
with age, and a body-servant loved only less than a father, who
exclaim: "Only wait till we die and follow us to our graves." Perhaps,
too, an aged mother, with sunken bosom and furrowed brow, recalling the
lullaby(4) with which she once soothed you, adds her entreaties to
theirs. The learned may call you, if they please,
The sole support and pillar of your house.(5) The
love of God and the fear of hell will easily break such bonds.
Scripture, you will argue, bids us obey our
parents.(6) Yes, but whoso loves them more than Christ loses his own
soul.(7) The enemy takes sword in hand to slay me, and shall I think of
a mother's tears? Or shall I desert the service of Christ for the sake
of a father to whom, if I am Christ's servant, I owe no rites of
burial,(8) albeit if I am Christ's true servant I owe these to all?
Peter with his cowardly advice was an offence to the Lord on the eve of
His passion;(9) and to the breth-
15
ren who strove to restrain him from going up to Jerusalem, Paul's one
answer was: "What mean ye to weep and to break my heart? For I am ready
not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the
Lord Jesus."(1) The battering-ram of natural affection which so often
shatters faith must recoil powerless from the wall of the Gospel. "My
mother and my brethren are these whosoever do the will of my Father
which is in heaven."(2) If they believe in Christ let them bid me
God-speed, for I go to fight in His name. And if they do not believe,
"let the dead bury their dead."(3)
4. But all this, you argue, only touches the case of
martyrs. Ah! my brother, you are mistaken, you are mistaken, if you
suppose that there is ever a time when the Christian does not suffer
persecution. Then are you most hardly beset when you know not that you
are beset at all. "Our adversary as a roaring lion walketh about
seeking whom he may devour,"(4) and do you think of peace? "He sitteth
in the lurking-places of the villages: in the secret places doth he
murder the innocent; his eyes are privily set against the poor. He
lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den; he lieth in wait to catch
the poor;"(5) and do you slumber under a shady tree, so as to fall an
easy prey? On one side self-indulgence presses me hard; on another
covetousness strives to make an inroad; my belly wishes to be a God to
me, in place of Christ,(6) and lust would fain drive away the Holy
Spirit that dwells in me and defile His temple.(7) I am pursued, I say,
by an enemy
Whose name is Legion and his wiles untold;(8) and, hapless wretch that
I am, how shall I hold myself a victor when I am being led away a
captive?
5. My dear brother, weigh well the various forms of
transgression, and think not that the sins which I have mentioned are
less flagrant than that of idolatry. Nay, hear the apostle's view of
the matter. "For this ye know," he writes, "that no whore-monger or
unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any
inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God."(9) In a general way
all that is of the devil savors of enmity to God, and what is of the
devil is idolatry, since all idols are subject to him. Yet Paul
elsewhere lays down the law in express and unmistakable terms, saying:
"Mortify your members, which are upon the earth, laying aside
fornication, uncleanness, evil concupiscence and covetousness, which
are(1) idolatry, for which things' sake the wrath of God cometh."(2)
Idolatry is not confined to casting incense upon an
altar with finger and thumb, or to pouring libations of wine out of a
cup into a bowl. Covetousness is idolatry, or else the selling of the
Lord for thirty pieces of silver was a righteous act.(3) Lust involves
profanation, or else men may defile with common harlots(4) those
members of Christ which should be "a living sacrifice acceptable to
God."(5) Fraud is idolatry, or else they are worthy of imitation who,
in the Acts of the Apostles, sold their inheritance, and because they
kept back part of the price, perished by an instant doom.(6) Consider
well, my brother; nothing is yours to keep. "Whosoever he be of you,"
the Lord says, "that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my
disciple."(7) Why are you such a half-hearted Christian?
6. See how Peter left his net;(8) see how the
publican rose from the receipt of custom.(9) In a moment he became an
apostle. "The Son of man hath not where to lay his head,"(10) and do
you plan wide porticos and spacious halls? If you look to inherit the
good things of the world you can no longer be a joint-heir with
Christ.(11) You are called a monk, and has the name no meaning? What
brings you, a solitary, into the throng of men? The advice that I give
is that of no inexperienced mariner who has never lost either ship or
cargo, and has never known a gale. Lately shipwrecked as I have been
myself, my warnings to other voyagers spring from my own fears. On one
side, like Charybdis, self-indulgence sucks into its vortex the soul's
salvation. On the other, like Scylla, lust, with a smile on her girl's
face, lures it on to wreck its chastity. The coast is savage, and the
devil with a crew of pirates carries irons to fetter his captives. Be
not credulous, be not over-confident. The sea may be as smooth
and smiling as a pond, its quiet surface may be scarcely ruffled by a
breath of air, yet sometimes its waves are as high as mountains. There
is danger in its depths, the foe is lurking there. Ease your sheets,
spread
16
your sails, fasten the cross as an ensign on your prow. The calm that
you speak of is itself a tempest. "Why so?" you will perhaps argue;
"are not all my fellow-townsmen Christians?" Your case, I reply, is not
that of others. Listen to the words of the Lord: "If thou wilt be
perfect go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and come and
follow me."(1) You have already promised to be perfect. For when you
forsook the army and made yourself an eunuch for the kingdom of
heaven's sake,(2) you did so that you might follow the perfect life.
Now the perfect servant of Christ has nothing beside Christ. Or if he
have anything beside Christ he is not perfect. And if he be not perfect
when he has promised God to be so, his profession is a lie. But "the
mouth that lieth slayeth the soul."(3) To conclude, then, if you are
perfect you will not set your heart on your father's goods; and if you
are not perfect you have deceived the Lord. The Gospel thunders forth
its divine warning: "Ye cannot serve two masters,"(4) and does any one
dare to make Christ a liar by serving at once both God and Mammon?
Repeatedly does He proclaim, "If any one will come after me let him
deny himself and take up his cross and follow me."(5) If I load myself
with gold can I think that I am following Christ? Surely not. "He that
saith he abideth in Him ought himself also so to walk even as He
walked."(6)
7. I know you will rejoin that you possess nothing.
Why, then, if you are so well prepared for battle, do you not take the
field? Perhaps you think that you can wage war in your own country,
although the Lord could do no signs in His?(7) Why not? you ask. Take
the answer which comes to you with his authority: "No prophet is
accepted in his own country."(8) But, you will say, I do not seek
honor; the approval of my conscience is enough for me. Neither did the
Lord seek it; for when the multitudes would have made Him a king he
fled from them.(9) But where there is no honor there is contempt; and
where there is contempt there is frequent rudeness; and where there is
rudeness there is vexation; and where there is vexation there is no
rest; and where there is no rest the mind is apt to be diverted from
its purpose. Again, where, through restlessness, earnestness loses any
of its force, it is lessened by what it loses, and that which is
lessened cannot be called perfect. The upshot of all which is that a
monk cannot be perfect in his own country. Now, not to aim at
perfection is itself a sin.
8. Driven from this line of defence you will appeal
to the example of the clergy. These, you will say, remain in their
cities, and yet they are surely above criticism. Far be it from me to
censure the successors of the apostles, who with holy words consecrate
the body of Christ, and who make us Christians.(1) Having the keys of
the kingdom of heaven, they judge men to some extent before the day of
judgment, and guard the chastity of the bride of Christ. But, as I have
before hinted, the case of monks is different from that of the clergy.
The clergy feed Christ's sheep; I as a monk am fed by them. They live
of the altar:(2) I, if I bring no gift to it, have the axe laid to my
root as to that of a barren tree.(3) Nor can I plead poverty as an
excuse, for the Lord in the gospel has praised an aged widow for
casting into the treasury the last two coins that she had.(4) I may not
sit in the presence of a presbyter;(5) he, if I sin, may deliver me to
Satan, "for the destruction of the flesh that the spirit may be
saved."(6) Under the old law he who disobeyed the priests was put
outside the camp and stoned by the people, or else he was beheaded and
expiated his contempt with his blood.(7) But now the disobedient person
is cut down with the spiritual sword, or he is expelled
from the church and torn to pieces by ravening demons. Should the
entreaties of your brethren induce you to take orders, I shall rejoice
that you are lifted up, and fear lest you may be cast down. You will
say: "If a man desire the office of a bishop, he desireth a good
work."(8) I know that; but you should add what follows: such an one
"must be blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, chaste,
of good behavior, given to hospitality, apt to teach, not given to
wine, no striker but patient."(9) After fully explaining the
qualifications of a bishop the apostle speaks of ministers of the third
degree with equal care. "Likewise must the deacons be grave," he
writes, "not double-tongued, not given to much wine, not greedy of
filthy lucre, holding the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience.
And let these also first be proved; then, let them minister, being
found blameless."(10) Woe to the man who goes in to the supper without
a wedding garment. Nothing remains for
17
him but the stern question, "Friend, how camest thou in hither?" And
when he is speechless the order will be given, "Bind him hand and foot,
and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be
weeping and gnashing of teeth."(1) Woe to him who, when he has received
a talent, has bound it in a napkin; and, whilst others make profits,
only preserves what he has received. His angry lord shall rebuke him in
a moment. "Thou wicked servant," he will say, "wherefore gavest thou
not my money into the bank that at my coming I might have required mine
own with usury?"(2) That is to say, you should have laid before the
altar what you were not able to bear. For whilst you, a slothful
trader, keep a penny in your hands, you occupy the place of another who
might double the money. Wherefore, as he who ministers well purchases
to himself a good degree,(3) so he who approaches the cup of the Lord
unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. (4)
9. Not all bishops are bishops indeed. You consider
Peter; mark Judas as well. You notice Stephen; look also on Nicolas,
sentenced in the Apocalypse by the Lord's own lips,(5) whose shameful
imaginations gave rise to the heresy of the Nicolaitans. "Let a man
examine himself and so let him come."(6) For it is not ecclesiastical
rank that makes a man a Christian. The centurion Cornelius was still a
heathen when he was cleansed by the gift of the Holy Spirit. Daniel was
but a child when he judged the elders.(7) Amos was stripping mulberry
bushes when, in a moment, he was made a prophet.(8) David was only a
shepherd when he was chosen to be king.(9) And the least of His
disciples was the one whom Jesus loved the most. My brother, sit down
in the lower room, that when one less honorable comes you may be bidden
to go up higher.(10) Upon whom does the Lord rest but upon him that is
lowly and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at His word?(11) To
whom God has committed much, of him He will ask the
more.(12) "Mighty men shall be mightily tormented."(13) No
man need pride himself in the day of judgment on merely physical
chastity, for then shall men give account for every idle word,(14) and
the reviling of a brother shall be counted as the sin of murder.(15)
Paul and Peter now reign with Christ, and it is not easy to take the
place of the one or to hold the office of the other. There may come an
angel to rend the veil of your temple,(1) and to remove your
candlestick out of its place.(2) If you intend to build the tower,
first count the cost.(3) Salt that has lost its savor is good for
nothing but to be cast out and to be trodden under foot of swine.(4) If
a monk fall, a priest shall intercede for him; but who shall intercede
for a fallen priest?
10. At last my discourse is clear of the reefs: at
last this frail bark has passed from the breakers into deep water. I
may now spread my sails to the breeze; and, as I leave the rocks of
controversy astern, my epilogue will be like the joyful shout of
mariners. O desert, bright with the flowers of Christ! O solitude
whence come the stones of which, in the Apocalypse, the city of the
great king is built!(5) O wilderness, gladdened with God's especial
presence! What keeps you in the world, my brother, yon who are above
the world?(6) How long shall gloomy roofs oppress you? How long shall
smoky cities immure you? Believe me, I have more light than you. Sweet
it is to lay aside the weight of the body and to soar into the pure
bright ether. Do you dread poverty? Christ calls the poor blessed.(7)
Does toil frighten you? No athlete is crowned but in the sweat of his
brow. Are you anxious as regards food? Faith fears no famine. Do you
dread the bare ground for limbs wasted with fasting? The Lord lies
there beside you. Do you recoil from an unwashed head and uncombed
hair? Christ is your true head.(8) Does the boundless solitude of the
desert terrify you? In the spirit you may walk always in paradise. Do
but turn your thoughts thither and you will be no more in the desert.
Is your skin rough and scaly because you no longer
bathe? He that is once washed in Christ needeth not to wash again.(9)
To all your objections the apostle gives this one brief answer: "The
sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with
the glory" which shall come after them, "which shall be revealed
in us."(10) You are too greedy of enjoyment, my brother, if you wish to
rejoice with the world here, and to reign with Christ hereafter.
11. it shall come, it shall come, that day when this
corruptible shall put on incorrup-
18
tion, and this mortal shall put on immortality.(1) Then shall that
servant be blessed whom the Lord shall find watching.(2) Then at the
sound of the trumpet(3) the earth and its peoples shall tremble, but
you shall rejoice. The world shall howl at the Lord who comes to judge
it, and the tribes of the earth shall smite the breast. Once mighty
kings shall tremble in their nakedness. Venus shall be exposed, and her
son too Jupiter with his fiery bolts will be brought to trial; and
Plato, with his disciples, will be but a fool. Aristotle's arguments
shall be of no avail. You may seem a poor man and country bred, but
then you shall exult and laugh, and say: Behold my crucified Lord
behold my judge. This is He who was once an infant wrapped in swaddling
clothes and crying in a manger.(4) This is He whose parents were a
workingman and a working-woman.(5) This is He, who, carried into Egypt
in His mother's bosom, though He was God, fled before the face of man.
This is He who was clothed in a scarlet robe and crowned with
thorns.(6) This is He who was called a sorcerer and a man with a devil
and a Samaritan.(7) Jew, behold the hands which you nailed to the
cross. Roman, behold the side which you pierced with the spear. See
both of you whether it was this body that the disciples stole secretly
and by night.(8) For this you profess to believe.
My brother, it is affection which has urged me to
speak thus; that you who now find the Christian life so hard may have
your reward in that day.
LETTER XV.
TO POPE DAMASUS.
This letter, written in 376 or 377 A.D., illustrates
Jerome's attitude towards the see of Rome at this time held by Damasus,
afterwards his warm friend and admirer. Referring lo Rome as the scene
of his own baptism and as a church where the true faith has remained
unimpaired ( 1), and laying down the strict doctrine of salvation only
within the pale of the church ( 2), Jerome asks "the successor of the
fisherman" two questions, viz.:(1) who is the true bishop of the three
claimants of the see of Antioch, and(2) which is the correct
terminology, to speak of three "hypostases" in the Godhead, or of one?
On the latter question he expresses fully his own opinion.
1. Since the East, shattered as it is by the
long-standing feuds, subsisting between its peoples, is bit by bit
tearing into shreds the seamless vest of the Lord, "woven from the top
throughout,"(1) since the foxes are destroying the vineyard of
Christ,(2) and since among the broken cisterns that hold no water it is
hard to discover "the sealed fountain" and "the garden inclosed,"(3) I
think it my duty to consult the chair of Peter, and to turn to a church
whose faith has been praised by Paul.(4) I appeal for spiritual food to
the church whence I have received the garb of Christ.(5) The wide space
of sea and land that lies between us cannot deter me from searching for
"the pearl of great price."(6) "Wheresoever the body is, there will the
eagles be gathered together."(7) Evil children have squandered their
patrimony; you alone keep your heritage intact. The fruitful soil of
Rome, when it receives the pure seed of the Lord, bears fruit an
hundredfold; but here the seed corn is choked in the furrows and
nothing grows but darnel or oats.(8) In the West the Sun of
righteousness(9) is even now rising; in the East, Lucifer, who fell
from heaven,(10) has once more set his throne above the stars.(11) "Ye
are the light of the world,"(12) "ye are the salt of the earth,"(13) ye
are "vessels of gold and of silver." Here are vessels of wood or of
earth,(14) which wait for the rod of iron,(15) and eternal fire.
2. Yet, though your greatness terrifies me, your
kindness attracts me. From the priest I demand the safe-keeping of the
victim, from the shepherd the protection due to the sheep. Away with
all that is overweening; let the state of Roman majesty withdraw. My
words are spoken to the successor of the fisherman, to the disciple of
the cross. As I follow no leader save Christ, so I communicate with
none but your blessedness, that is with the chair of Peter. For this, I
know, is the rock on which the church is built!(16) This is the house
where alone the paschal lamb can be rightly eaten.(17) This is the ark
of Noah, and he who is not found in it shall perish when the flood
prevails.(18) But since by reason of my sins I have betaken myself to
this desert which lies between Syria and the uncivilized waste, I
cannot, owing to the great distance between us, always ask of your
sanctity the holy thing of the Lord.(19) Con-
19
sequently I here follow the Egyptian confessors(1) who share your
faith, and anchor my frail craft under the shadow of their great
argosies. I know nothing of Vitalis; I reject Meletius; I have nothing
to do with Paulinus.(2) He that gathers not with you scatters;(3) he
that is not of Christ is of Antichrist.
3. Just now, I am sorry to say, those Arians, the
Campenses,(4) are trying to extort from me, a Roman Christian, their
unheard-of formula of three hypostases.(5) And this, too, after the
definition of Nicaea(6) and the decree of Alexandria,(7) in which the
West has joined. Where, I should like to know, are the apostles of
these doctrines? Where is their Paul, their new doctor of the Gentiles?
I ask them what three hypostases are supposed to mean. They reply three
persons subsisting. I rejoin that this is my belief. They are not
satisfied with the meaning, they demand the term. Surely some secret
venom lurks in the words. "If any man refuse," I cry, "to acknowledge
three hypostases in the sense of three things hypostatized, that is
three persons subsisting, let him be anathema." Yet, because I do not
learn their words, I am counted a heretic. "But, if any one,
understanding by hypostasis essence,(8) deny that in the three persons
there is one hypostasis, he has no part in Christ." Because this is my
confession I, like you, am branded with the stigma of Sabellianism.(9)
4. If you think fit enact a decree; and then I shall
not hesitate to speak of three hypostases. Order a new creed to
supersede the Nicene; and then, whether we are Arians or orthodox, one
confession will do for us all. In the whole range of secular learning
hypostasis never means anything but essence. And can any one, I ask, be
so profane as to speak of three essences or substances in the Godhead?
There is one nature of God and one only; and this, and this alone,
truly is. For absolute being is derived from no other source but is all
its own. All things besides, that is all things created, although they
appear to be, are not. For there was a time when they were not, and
that which once was not may again cease to be. God alone who is
eternal, that is to say, who has no beginning, really deserves to be
called an essence. Therefore also He says to Moses from the bush, "I am
that I am," and Moses says of Him, "I am hath sent me."(1) As the
angels, the sky, the earth, the seas, all existed at the time, it must
have been as the absolute being that God claimed for himself that name
of essence, which apparently was common to all. But because His nature
alone is perfect, and because in the three persons there subsists but
one Godhead, which truly is and is one nature; whosoever in the name of
religion declares that there are in the Godhead three elements, three
hypostases, that is, or essences, is striving really to predicate three
natures of God. And if this is true, why are we severed by walls from
Arius, when in dishonesty we are one with him? Let Ursicinus be made
the colleague of your blessedness; let Auxentius be associated with
Ambrose.(2) But may the faith of Rome never come to such a pass! May
the devout hearts of your people never be infected with such unholy
doctrines! Let us be satisfied to speak of one substance and of three
subsisting persons--perfect, equal, coeternal. Let us keep to one
hypostasis, if such be your pleasure, and say nothing of three. It is a
bad sign when those who mean the same thing use different words. Let us
be satisfied with the form of creed which we have hitherto used. Or, if
you think it right that I should speak of three hypostases, explaining
what I mean by them, I am ready to submit. But, believe me, there is
poison hidden under their honey; the angel of Satan has transformed
himself into an angel of light.(3) They give a plausible explanation of
the term hypostasis; yet when I profess to hold it in the same sense
they count me a heretic. Why are they so tenacious of a word? Why do
they shelter themselves under ambiguous language? If their belief
corresponds to their explanation of it, I do not condemn them for
keeping it. On the other hand, if
20
my belief corresponds to their expressed opinions, they should allow me
to set forth their meaning in my own words.
5. I implore your blessedness, therefore, by the
crucified Saviour of the world, and by the consubstantial trinity, to
authorize me by letter either to use or to refuse this formula of three
hypostases. And test the obscurity of my present abode may baffle the
bearers of your letter, I pray you to address it to Evagrius, the
presbyter, with whom you are well acquainted. I beg you also to signify
with whom I am to communicate at Antioch. Not, I hope, with the
Campenses;(1) for they--with their allies the heretics of
Tarsus(2)--only desire communion with you to preach with greater
authority their traditional doctrine of three hypostases.
LETTER XVI.
TO POPE DAMASUS.
This letter, written a few months after the
preceding, is another appeal to Damasus to solve the writer's doubts.
Jerome once more refers to his baptism at Rome, and declares that his
one answer to the factions at Antioch is, "He who clings to the chair
of Peter is accepted by me." Written from the desert in the year 377 or
378.
1. By her importunity the widow in the gospel at
last gained a hearing,(3) and by the same means one friend induced
another to give him bread at midnight, when his door was shut and his
servants were in bed.(4) The publican's prayers overcame God,(5)
although God is invincible. Nineveh was saved by its tears from the
impending ruin caused by its sin.(6) To what end, you ask, these
far-fetched references? To this end, I make answer; that you in your
greatness should look upon me in my littleness; that you, the rich
shepherd, should not despise me, the ailing sheep. Christ Himself
brought the robber from the cross to paradise,(7) and, to show that
repentance is never too late, He turned a murderer's death into a
martyrdom. Gladly does Christ embrace the prodigal son when he returns
to Him;(8) and, leaving the ninety and nine, the good shepherd carries
home on His shoulders the one poor sheep that is left.(9) From a
persecutor Paul becomes a preacher. His bodily eyes are blinded to
clear the eyes of his soul,(10) and he who once haled Christ's servants
in chains before the council of the Jews,(1) lives afterwards to glory
in the bonds of Christ.(2)
2. As I have already written to you,(3) I, who have
received Christ's garb in Rome, am now detained in the waste that
borders Syria. No sentence of banishment, however, has been passed upon
me; the punishment which I am undergoing is self-inflicted. But, as the
heathen poet says:
They change not mind but sky who cross the sea.(4) The untiring foe
follows me closely, and the assaults that I suffer in the desert are
severer than ever. For the Arian frenzy raves, and the powers of the
world support it. The church is rent into three factions, and each of
these is eager to seize me for its own. The influence of the monks is
of long standing, and it is directed against me. I meantime keep
crying: "He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me."
Meletius, Vitalis, and Paulinus(6) all profess to cleave to you, and I
could believe the assertion if it were made by one of them only. As it
is, either two of them or else all three are guilty of falsehood.
Therefore I implore your blessedness, by our Lord's cross and passion,
those necessary glories of our faith, as you hold an apostolic office,
to give an apostolic decision. Only tell me by letter with whom I am to
communicate in Syria, and I will pray for you that you may sit in
judgment enthroned with the twelve;(6) that when you grow old, like
Peter, you may be girded not by yourself but by another,(7) and that,
like Paul, you may be made a citizen of the heavenly kingdom.(8) Do not
despise a soul for which Christ died.
LETTER XVII.
TO THE PRESBYTER MARCUS.
In this letter, addressed to one who seems to have
had some pre-eminence among the monks of the Chalcidian desert, Jerome
complains of the hard treatment meted out to him because of his refusal
to take any part Z in the great theological dispute then raging in
Syria. He protests his own orthodoxy, and begs permission to remain
where he is until the return of spring, when he will retire from "the
inhospitable desert," Written in A.D. 378 or 379.
1. I had made up my mind to use the words of the
psalmist: "While the wicked
21
was before me I was dumb with silence; I was humbled, and I held my
peace even from good :"(1) and "I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was
as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth. Thus I was as a man that
heareth not."(2) But charity overcomes all things,(3) and my regard for
you defeats my determination. I am, indeed, less careful to retaliate
upon my assailants than to comply with your request. For among
Christians, as one has said,(4) not he who endures an outrage is
unhappy, but he who commits it.
2. And first, before I speak to you of my belief
(which you know full well), I am forced to cry out against the
inhumanity of this country. A hackneyed quotation best expresses my
meaning:
What savages are these who will not grant
A rest to strangers, even on their sands!
They threaten war and drive us from their coasts.(5)
I take this from a Gentile poet that one who disregards the peace of
Christ may at least learn its meaning from a heathen. I am called a
heretic, although I preach the consubstantial trinity. I am accused of
the Sabellian impiety, although I proclaim with unwearied voice that in
the Godhead there are three distinct,(6) real, whole, and perfect
persons. The Arians do right to accuse me, but the orthodox forfeit
their orthodoxy when they assail a faith like mine. They may, if they
like, condemn me as a heretic; but if they do they must also condemn
Egypt and the West, Damasus and Peter.(7) Why do they fasten the guilt
on one and leave his companions uncensured? If there is but little
water in the stream, it is the fault, not of the channel, but of the
source. I blush to say it, but from the caves which serve us for cells
we monks of the desert condemn the world. Rolling in sack-cloth and
ashes,(8) we pass sentence on bishops. What use is the robe of a
penitent if it covers the pride of a king? Chains, squalor, and long
hair are by right tokens of sorrow, and not ensigns of royalty. I
merely ask leave to remain silent. Why do they torment a man who does
not deserve their ill-will? I am a heretic, you say. What is it to you
if I am? Stay quiet, and all is said. You are afraid, I suppose, that,
with my fluent knowledge of Syriac and Greek, I shall make a tour of
the churches, lead the people into error, and form a
schism! I have robbed no man of anything; neither have I taken what I
have not earned. With my own hand(1) daily and in the sweat of my
brow(2) I labor for my food, knowing that it is written by the apostle:
"If any will not work, neither shall he eat."(3)
3. Reverend and holy father, Jesus is my witness
with what groans and tears I have written all this. "I have kept
silence, saith the Lord, but shall I always keep silence? Surely
not."(4) I cannot have so much as a corner of the desert. Every day I
am asked for my confession of faith; as though when I was regenerated
in baptism I had made none. I accept their formulas, but they are still
dissatisfied. I sign my name to them, but they still refuse to believe
me. One thing only will content them, that I should leave the country.
I am on the point of departure. They have already torn away from me my
dear brothers, who are a part of my very life. They are, as you see,
anxious to depart--nay, they are actually departing; it is preferable,
they say, to live among wild beasts rather than with Christians such as
these. I myself, too, would be at this moment a fugitive were I not
withheld by physical infirmity and by the severity of the winter. I ask
to be allowed the shelter of the desert for a few months till spring
returns; or if this seems too long a delay, I am ready to depart now.
"The earth is the Lord' s and the fulness thereof."(5) Let them climb
up to heaven alone;(6) for them alone Christ died; they possess all
things and glory in all. Be it so. "But God forbid that I should glory
save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is
crucified unto me and I unto the world."(7)
4. As regards the questions which you have thought
fit to put to me concerning the faith, I have given to the reverend
Cyril(8) a written confession which sufficiently answers them. He who
does not so believe has no part in Christ. My faith is attested
both by your ears and by those of your blessed brother, Zenobius, to
whom, as well as to yourself, we all of us here send our best greeting.
22
LETTER XVIII. TO POPE DAMASUS.
This (written from Constantinople in A.D. 381) is
the earliest of Jerome's expository letters. In it he explains at
length the vision recorded in the sixth chapter of Isaiah, and enlarges
upon its mystical meaning. "Some of my predecessors," he writes, "make
'the Lord sitting upon a throne' God the Father, and suppose the
seraphim to represent the Son and the Holy Spirit. I do not agree with
them, for John expressly tells us(1) that it was Christ and not the
Father whom the prophet saw." And again, "The word seraphim means
either ' glow ' or ' beginning of speech,' and the two seraphim thus
stand for the Old and New Testaments.(2) 'Did not our heart burn within
us,' said the disciples, 'while he opened to us the Scriptures?'(3)
Moreover, the Old Testament is written in Hebrew, and this
unquestionably was man's original language." Jerome then speaks of the
unity of the sacred books. "Whatever," he asserts, "we read in the Old
Testament we find also in the Gospel; and what we red in the Gospel is
deduced from the Old Testament.(4) There is no discord between them, no
disagreement. In both Testaments the Trinity is preached."
The letter is noticeable for the evidence it affords
of the thoroughness of Jerome's studies. Not only does he cite the
several Greek versions of Isaiah in support of his argument, but he
also reverts to the Hebrew original. So far as the West was concerned
be may be said to have discovered this anew. Even educated men like
Augustine had ceased to look beyond the LXX., and were more or less
aghast at the boldness with which Jerome rejected its time-honored but
inaccurate renderings.(6)
The letter also shows that independence of judgment
which always marked Jerome's work. At the time when he wrote it he was
much under the sway of Origen. But great as was his admiration for the
master, he was not afraid to discard his exegesis when, as in the
case of the seraphim, he believed it to be erroneous.
LETTER XIX.
FROM POPE DAMASUS.
A letter from Damasus to Jerome, in which he asks
for an explanation of the word "Hosanna" (A.D. 383).
LETTER XX.
TO POPE DAMASUS.
Jerome's reply to the foregoing. Exposing the error
of Hilary of Poitiers, who supposed the expression to signify
"redemption of the house of David," he goes on to show that in the
gospels it is a quotation from Ps. cxviii. 25 and that its true meaning
is "save now" (so A.V.). "Let us," he writes, "leave the streamlets of
conjecture and return to the fountain-head. It is from the Hebrew
writings that the truth is to be drawn." Written at Rome A.D. 383.
LETTER XXI. TO DAMASUS.
In this letter Jerome, at the request of Damasus,
gives a minutely detailed explanation of the parable of the prodigal
son.
LETTER XXII.
TO EUSTOCHIUM.
Perhaps the most famous of all the letters. In it
Jerome lays down at great length(1) the motives which ought to actuate
those who devote themselves to a life of virginity, and(2) the rules by
which they ought to regulate their daily conduct. The letter contains a
vivid picture of Roman society as it then was--the luxury, profligacy,
and hypocrisy prevalent among both men and women, besides some graphic
autobiographical details (? 7, 30), and concludes with a full account
of the three kinds of monasticism then practised in Egypt (
34-36). Thirty years later Jerome wrote a similar letter to Demetrias
(CXXX.), with which this ought to be compared. Written at Rome 384 A.D.
1. "Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline
thine ear; forget also thine own people and thy father's house, and the
king shall desire thy beauty."(1) In this forty-fourth(2) psalm God
speaks to the human soul that, following the example of Abraham,(3) it
should go out from its own land and from its kindred, and should leave
the Chaldeans, that is the demons, and should dwell in the country of
the living, for which elsewhere the prophet sighs: "I think to see the
good things of the Lord in the land of the living."(4) But it is not
enough for you to go out from your own land unless you forget your
people and your father's house; unless you scorn the flesh and cling to
the bridegroom in a close embrace. "Look not behind thee," he says,
"neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain lest thou
be consumed."(5) He who has grasped the plough must not look behind
him(6) or return home from the field, or having Christ's garment,
descend from the roof to fetch other raiment.(7) Truly a marvellous
thing, a father charges his daughter not to remember her father. "Ye
are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father it is your
will to do."(8) So it was said to the Jews. And in another place, "He
that committeth sin is of the devil."(9) Born, in the first instance,
of such parentage we are naturally black, and even when we have
repented, so long as we have not scaled the heights of virtue, we may
still say: "I am black but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem."(10)
But you will say to me, "I have left the home of my childhood; I have
forgotten my father, I am born anew in Christ. What reward do I receive
for this?" The context shows--"The king shall desire thy beauty." This,
then, is the great mystery. "For this cause shall
23
a man leave his father and his mother and shall be joined unto his
wife, and they two shall be" not as is there said, "of one flesh,"(1)
but "of one spirit." Your bridegroom is not haughty or disdainful; He
has "married an Ethiopian woman."(2) When once you desire the
wisdom of the true Solomon and come to Him, He will avow all His
knowledge to you; He will lead you into His chamber with His royal
hand;(3) He will miraculously change your complexion so that it shall
be said of you, "Who is this that goeth up and hath been made white?"(4)
2. I write to you thus, Lady Eustochium (I am bound
to call my Lord's bride "lady"), to show yon by my opening words that
my object is not to praise the virginity which you follow, and of which
you have proved the value, or yet to recount the drawbacks of marriage,
such as pregnancy, the crying of infants, the torture caused by a
rival, the cares of household management, and all those fancied
blessings which death at last cuts short. Not that married women are as
such outside the pale; they have their own place, the marriage that is
honorable and the bed undefiled.(6) My purpose is to show you that you
are fleeing from Sodom and should take warning by Lot's wife.(6) There
is no flattery, I can tell you, in these pages. A flatterer's words are
fair, but for all that he is an enemy. You need expect no rhetorical
flourishes setting you among the angels, and while they extol virginity
as blessed, putting the world at your feet.
3. I would have you draw from your monastic vow not
pride but fear.(7) You walk laden with gold; you must keep out of the
robber's way. To us men this life is a race-course we contend here, we
are crowned elsewhere. No man can lay aside fear while serpents and
scorpions beset his path. The Lord says: "My sword hath drunk its fill
in heaven,"(8) and do you expect to find peace on the earth? No, the
earth yields only thorns and thistles, and its dust is food for the
serpent.(9) "For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but
against the principalities, against the powers, against the
world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of
wickedness in the heavenly places."(10) We are hemmed in by hosts of
foes, our enemies are upon every side. The weak flesh will soon be
ashes: one against many, it fights against tremendous odds. Not till it
has been dissolved, not till the Prince of this world has come and
found no sin therein,(1) not till then may you safely listen to the
prophet's words: "Thou shall not be afraid for the terror by night nor
for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the trouble which haunteth
thee in darkness; nor for the demon and his attacks at noonday. A
thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousand at thy right hand; but
it shall not come nigh thee."(2) When the hosts of the enemy distress
you, when your frame is fevered and your passions roused, when you say
in your heart, "What shall I do?" Elisha's words shall give you your
answer, "Fear not, for they that be with us are more than they that be
with them."(3) He shall pray," Lord, open the eyes of thine handmaid
that she may see." And then when your eyes have been opened you shall
see a fiery chariot like Elijah's waiting to carry you to heaven,(4)
and shall joyfully sing: "Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the
snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken and we are escaped."(5)
4. So long as we are held down by this frail body,
so long as we have our treasure in earthen vessels;(6) so long as the
flesh lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh,(7)
there can be no sure victory. "Our adversary the devil goeth about as a
roaring lion seeking whom he may devour."(8) "Thou makest darkness,"
David says, "and it is night: wherein all the beasts of the forest do
creep forth. The young lions roar after their prey and seek their meat
from God."(9) The devil looks not for unbelievers, for those who are
without, whose flesh the Assyrian king roasted in the furnace.(10) It
is the church of Christ that he "makes haste to spoil."(11) According
to Habakkuk, "His food is of the choicest."(12) A Job is the victim of
his machinations, and after devouring Judas he seeks power to sift the
[other] apostles.(13) The Saviour came not to send peace upon the earth
but a sword.(14) Lucifer fell, Lucifer who used to rise at dawn;(15)
and be who was bred up in a paradise of delight had the well-earned
sentence passed upon him, "Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and
though thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee
down, saith the Lord."(16) For he had said in his heart, "I will exalt
my throne above the stars of God," and "I will be like the Most
High."(17) Wherefore God says
24
every day to the angels, as they descend the ladder that Jacob
saw in his dream,(1) "I have said ye are Gods and all of you are
children of the Most High. But ye shall die like men and fall like one
of the princes."(2) The devil fell first, and since "God standeth in
the congregation of the Gods and judgeth among the Gods,"(3) the
apostle writes to those who are ceasing to be Gods--" Whereas there is
among you envying and strife, are ye not carnal and walk as men?"(4)
5. If, then, the apostle, who was a chosen vessel(5)
separated unto the gospel of Christ,(6) by reason of the pricks of the
flesh and the allurements of vice keeps under his body and brings it
into subjection, lest when he has preached to others he may himself be
a castaway;(7) and yet, for all that, sees another law in his members
warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to
the law of sin;(8) if after nakedness, fasting. hunger, imprisonment,
scourging and other torments, he turns back to himself and cries "Oh,
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this
death?"(9) do you fancy that you ought to lay aside apprehension? See
to it that God say not some day of you: "The virgin of Israel is fallen
and there is none to raise her up."(10) I will say it boldly, though
God can do all things He cannot raise up a virgin when once she has
fallen. He may indeed relieve one who is defiled from the penalty of
her sin, but He will not give her a crown. Let us fear lest in us also
the prophecy be fulfilled, "Good virgins shall faint."(11) Notice that
it is good virgins who are spoken of, for there are bad ones as well.
"Whosoever looketh on a woman," the Lord says, "to lust after her hath
committed adultery with her already in his heart."(12) So that
virginity may be lost even by a thought. Such are evil virgins, virgins
in the flesh, not in the spirit; foolish virgins, who, having no oil,
are shut out by the Bridegroom.(13)
6. But if even real virgins, when they have other
failings, are not saved by their physical virginity, what shall become
of those who have prostituted the members of Christ, and have changed
the temple of the Holy Ghost into a brothel? Straightway shall they
hear the words: "Come down and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of
Babylon, sit on the ground; there is no throne, O daughter of the
Chaldaeans: for thou shalt no more be called tender and delicate.
Take the mill-stone and grind meal; uncover thy locks, make bare the
legs, pass over the rivers; thy nakedness shall be uncovered, yea, thy
shame shall be seen."(1) And shall she come to this after the
bridal-chamber of God the Son, after the kisses of Him who is to her
both kinsman and spouse?(2) Yes, she of whom the prophetic
utterance once sang, "Upon thy right hand did stand the queen in a
vesture of gold wrought about with divers col ours,"(3) shall be made
naked, and her skirts shall be discovered upon her face.(4) She shall
sit by the waters of loneliness, her pitcher laid aside; and shall open
her feet to every one that passeth by, and shall be polluted to the
crown of her head.(5) Better had it been for her to have submitted to
the yoke of marriage, to have walked in level places, than thus,
aspiring to loftier heights, to fall into the deep of hell. I pray you,
let not Zion the faithful city become a harlot:(6) let It not be that
where the Trinity has been entertained, there demons shall dance and
owls make their nests, and jackals build.(7) Let us not loose the belt
that binds the breast. When lust tickles the sense mad the soft fire of
sensual pleasure sheds over us its pleasing glow, let us immediately
break forth and cry: "The Lord is on my side: I will not fear what the
flesh can do unto me."(8) When the inner man shows signs for a time of
wavering between vice and virtue, say: "Why art thou cast down, O my
soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I
shall yet praise Him who is the health of my countenance and my
God."(9) You must never let suggestions of evil grow on you, or a babel
of disorder win strength in your breast. Slay the enemy while he
is small; and, that you may not have a crop of tares, nip the
evil in the bud. Bear in mind the warning words of the Psalmist:
"Hapless daughter of Babylon, happy shall he be that
rewardeth thee as thou hast served us. Happy shall he be that taketh
and dasheth thy little ones against the stones."(10) Because natural
heat inevitably kindles in a man sensual passion, he is praised and
accounted happy who, when foul suggestions arise in his mind, gives
them no quarter, but dashes them instantly against the rock. "Now the
Rock is Christ."(11)
7. How often, when I was living in the desert, in
the vast solitude which gives to hermits a savage dwelling-place,
parched by a burning sun, how often did I fancy myself
25
among the pleasures of Rome! I used to sit alone because I was filled
with bitterness. Sackcloth disfigured my unshapely limbs and my skin
from long neglect had become as black as an Ethiopian's. Tears and
groans were every day my portion; and if drowsiness chanced to overcome
my struggles against it, my bare bones, which hardly held together,
clashed against the ground. Of my food and drink I say nothing: for,
even in sickness, the solitaries have nothing but cold water, and to
eat one's food cooked is looked upon as self-indulgence. Now, although
in my fear of hell I had consigned myself to this prison, where I had
no companions but scorpions and wild beasts, I often found myself amid
bevies of girls. My face was pale and my frame chilled with fasting;
yet my mind was burning with desire, and the fires of lust kept
bubbling up before me when my flesh was as good as dead. Helpless, I
cast myself at the feet of Jesus, I watered them with my tears, I wiped
them with my hair: and then I subdued my rebellious body with weeks of
abstinence. I do not blush to avow my abject misery; rather I lament
that I am not now what once I was. I remember how I often cried aloud
all night till the break of day and ceased not from beating my breast
till tranquillity returned at the chiding of the Lord. I used to dread
my very cell as though it knew my thoughts; and, stern and angry with
myself, I used to make my way alone into the desert. Wherever I saw
hollow valleys, craggy mountains, steep cliffs, there I made my
oratory, there the house of correction for my unhappy flesh. There,
also--the Lord Himself is my witness--when I had shed copious tears and
had strained my eyes towards heaven, I sometimes felt myself among
angelic hosts, and for joy and gladness sang: "because of the savour of
thy good ointments we will run after thee."(1)
8. Now, if such are the temptations of men who,
since their bodies are emaciated with fasting, have only evil thoughts
to fear, how must it fare with a girl whose surroundings are those of
luxury and ease? Surely, to use the apostle's words, "She is dead while
she liveth."(2) Therefore, if experience gives me a right to advise, or
clothes my words with credit, I would begin by urging you and warning
you as Christ's spouse to avoid wine as you would avoid poison. For
wine is the first weapon used by demons against the young. Greed does
not shake, nor pride puff up, nor ambition infatuate so much as this.
Other vices we easily escape, but this enemy is shut up within us, and
wherever we go we carry him with us. Wine and youth between them kindle
the fire of sensual pleasure. Why do we throw oil on the flame--why do
we add fresh fuel to a miserable body which is already ablaze. Paul, it
is true, says to Timothy "drink no longer water, but use a little wine
for thy stomach's sake, and for thine often infirmities."(1) But notice
the reasons for which the permission is given, to cure an aching
stomach and a frequent infirmity. And lest we should indulge ourselves
too much on the score of our ailments, he commands that but little
shall be taken; advising rather as a physician than as an apostle
(though, indeed, an apostle is a spiritual physician). He evidently
feared that Timothy might succumb to weakness, and might prove unequal
to the constant moving to and fro involved in preaching the Gospel.
Besides, he remembered that he had spoken of "wine wherein is
excess,"(2) and had said, "it is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink
wine."(3) Noah drank wine and became intoxicated; but living as he did
in the rude age after the flood, when the vine was first planted,
perhaps he did not know its power of inebriation. And to let you see
the hidden meaning of Scripture in all its fulness (for the word of God
is a pearl and may be pierced on every side) after his drunkenness came
the uncovering of his body; self-indulgence culminated in lust.(4)
First the belly is crammed; then the other members are roused.
Similarly, at a later period, "The people sat down to eat and to drink
and rose up to play."(5) Lot also, God's friend, whom He saved upon the
mountain, who was the only one found righteous out of so many
thousands, was intoxicated by his daughters. And, although they may
have acted as they did more from a desire of offspring than from love
of sinful pleasure--for the human race seemed in danger of
extinction--yet they were well aware that the righteous man would not
abet their design unless intoxicated. In fact he did not know what he
was doing, and his sin was not wilful. Still his error was a grave one,
for it made him the father of Moab and Ammon,(6) Israel's enemies, of
whom it is said: "Even to the fourteenth generation they shall not
enter into the congregation of the Lord forever."(7)
9. When Elijah, in his flight from Jezebel,
26
lay weary and desolate beneath the oak, there came an angel who raised
him up and said, "Arise and eat." And he looked, and behold there was a
cake and a cruse of water at his head.(1) Had God willed it, might He
not have sent His prophet spiced wines and dainty dishes and flesh
basted into tenderness? When Elisha invited the sons of the prophets to
dinner, he only gave them field-herbs to eat; and when all cried out
with one voice: "There is death in the pot," the man of God did not
storm at the cooks (for he was not used to very sumptuous fare), but
caused meal to be brought, and casting it in, sweetened the bitter
mess(2) with spiritual strength as Moses had once sweetened the waters
of Mara.(3) Again, when men were sent to arrest the prophet, and were
smitten with physical and mental blindness, that he might bring them
without their own knowledge to Samaria, notice the food with which
Elisha ordered them to be refreshed. "Set bread and water," he said,
"before them, that they may eat and drink and go to their master."(4)
And Daniel, who might have had rich food from the king's table,(5)
preferred the mower's breakfast, brought to him by Habakkuk,(6) which
must have been but country fare. He was called "a man of desires,"(7)
because he would not eat the bread of desire or drink the wine of
concupiscence.
10. There are, in the Scriptures, countless divine
answers condemning gluttony and approving simple food. But as fasting
is not my present theme and an adequate discussion of it would require
a treatise to itself, these few observations must suffice of the many
which the subject suggests. By them you will understand why the first
man, obeying his belly and not God, was cast down from paradise into
this vale of tears;(8) and why Satan used hunger to tempt the Lord
Himself in the wilderness;(9) and why the apostle cries: "Meats for the
belly and the belly for meats, but God shall destroy both it and
them;"(10) and why he speaks of the self-indulgent as men "whose God is
their belly."(11) For men invariably worship what they like best. Care
must be taken, therefore, that abstinence may bring back to Paradise
those whom satiety once drove out.
11. You will tell me, perhaps, that, high-born as
you are, reared in luxury and used to lie softly, you cannot do without
wine and dainties, and would find a stricter rule of life unendurable.
If so, I can only say: "Live, then, by your own rule, since God's rule
is too hard for you." Not that the Creator and Lord of all takes
pleasure in a rumbling and empty stomach, or in fevered lungs; but that
these are indispensable as means to the preservation of chastity. Job
was dear to God, perfect and upright before Him;(1) yet hear what he
says of the devil: "His strength is in the loins, and his force is in
the navel."(2)
The terms are chosen for decency's sake, but the
reproductive organs of the two sexes are meant. Thus, the descendant of
David, who, according to the promise is to sit upon his throne, is said
to come from his loins.(3) And the seventy-five souls descended from
Jacob who entered Egypt are said to come out of his thigh.(4) So, also,
when his thigh shrank after the Lord had wrestled with him, (5) he
ceased to beget children. The Israelites, again, are told to celebrate
the passover with loins girded and mortified.(6) God says to Job: "Gird
up thy loins as a man."(7) John wears a leathern girdle.(8) The
apostles must gird their loins to carry the lamps of the Gospel.(9)
When Ezekiel tells us how Jerusalem is found in the plain of wandering,
covered with blood, he uses the words: "Thy navel has not been
cut."(10) In his assaults on men, therefore, the devil's strength is in
the loins; in his attacks on women his force is in the navel.
12. Do you wish for proof of my assertions? Take
examples. Sampson was braver than a lion and tougher than a rock; alone
and unprotected he pursued a thousand armed men; and yet, in Delilah's
embrace, his resolution melted away. David was a man after God's own
heart, and his lips had often sung of the Holy One, the future Christ;
and yet as he walked upon his housetop he was fascinated by Bathsheba's
nudity, and added murder to adultery.(11) Notice here how, even in his
own house, a man cannot use his eyes without danger. Then repenting, he
says to the Lord: "Against thee, thee only, have I sinned and done this
evil in Thy sight."(12) Being a king he feared no one else. So, too,
with Solomon. Wisdom used him to sing her praise,(13) and he treated of
all plants "from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop
that springeth out of the wall;"(14) and yet he went back from God
because he was a lover of women.(15) And, as if to show that near
relationship is no safe-
27
guard, Amnon burned with illicit passion for his sister Tamar.(1)
13. I cannot bring myself to speak of the many
virgins who daily fall and are lost to the bosom of the church, their
mother: stars over which the proud foe sets up his throne,(2) and rocks
hollowed by the serpent that he may dwell in their fissures. You may
see many women widows before wedded, who try to conceal their miserable
fall by a lying garb. Unless they are betrayed by swelling wombs or by
the crying of their infants, they walk abroad with tripping feet and
heads in the air. Some go so fat as to take potions, that they may
insure barrenness, and thus murder human beings almost before their
conception. Some, when they find themselves with child through their
sin, use drugs to procure abortion, and when (as often happens) they
die with their offspring, they enter the lower world laden with the
guilt not only of adultery against Christ but also of suicide and child
murder. Yet it is these who say: "'Unto the pure all things are
pure;'(3) my conscience is sufficient guide for me. A pure heart is
what God looks for. Why should I abstain from meats which God has
created to be received with thanksgiving?"(4) And when they wish to
appear agreeable and entertaining they first drench themselves with
wine, and then joining the grossest profanity to intoxication, they say
"Far be it from me to abstain from the blood of Christ." And when they
see another pale or sad they call her "wretch" or "manichaean;"(5)
quite logically, indeed, for on their principles fasting involves
heresy. When they go out they do their best to attract notice, and with
nods and winks encourage troops of young fellows to follow them. Of
each and all of these the prophet's words are true: "Thou hast a
whore's forehead; thou refusest to be ashamed."(6) Their robes have but
a narrow purple stripe,(7) it is true; and their head-dress is somewhat
loose, so as to leave the hair free. From their shoulders flutters the
lilac mantle which they call "maforte;" they have their feet in cheap
slippers and their arms tucked up tight-fitting sleeves. Add to these
marks of their profession an easy gait, and you have all the virginity
that they possess. Such may have eulogizers of their own, and may fetch
a higher price in the market of perdition, merely because they are
called virgins. But to such virgins as these I prefer to be displeasing.
14. I blush to speak of it, it is so shocking; yet
though sad, it is true. How comes this plague of the agapetae(1) to be
in the church? Whence come these unwedded wives, these novel
concubines, these harlots, so I will call them, though they cling to a
single partner? One house holds them and one chamber. They often occupy
the same bed, and yet they call us suspicious if we fancy anything
amiss. A brother leaves his virgin sister; a virgin, slighting her
unmarried brother, seeks a brother in a stranger. Both alike profess to
have but one object, to find spiritual consolation from those not of
their kin; but their real aim is to indulge in sexual intercourse. It
is on such that Solomon in the book of proverbs heaps his scorn. "Can a
man take fire in his bosom," he says, "and his clothes not be burned?
Can one go upon hot coals and his feet not be burned?"(2)
15. We cast out, then, and banish from our sight
those who only wish to seem and not to be virgins. Henceforward I may
bring all my speech to bear upon you who, as it is your lot to be the
first virgin of noble birth in Rome, have to labor the more diligently
not to lose good things to come, as well as those that are present. You
have at least learned from a case in your own family the troubles of
wedded life and the uncertainties of marriage. Your sister, Blaesilla,
before you in age but behind you in declining the vow of virginity, has
become a widow but seven months after she has taken a husband. Hapless
plight of us mortals who know not what is before us! She has lost, at
once, the crown of virginity and the pleasures of wedlock. And,
although, as a widow, the second degree of chastity is hers, still can
you not imagine the continual crosses which she has to bear, daily
seeing in her sister what she has lost herself; and, while she finds it
hard to go without the pleasures of wedlock, having a less reward for
her present continence? Still she, too, may take heart and rejoice. The
fruit which is an hundredfold and that which is sixtyfold both spring
from one seed, and that seed is chastity.(9)
16. Do not court the company of married ladies or
visit the houses of the high-born. Do not look too often on the life
which you despised to become a virgin. Women of the world, you know,
plume themselves because their husbands are on the bench or in other
28
high positions. And the wife of the emperor always has an eager throng
of visitors at her door. Why do you, then, wrong your husband? Why do
you, God's bride, hasten to visit the wife of a mere man? Learn in this
respect a holy pride; know that you are better than they. And not only
must you avoid intercourse with those who are puffed up by their
husbands' honors, who are hedged in with troops of eunuchs, and who
wear robes inwrought with threads of gold. You must also shun those who
are widows from necessity and not from choice. Not that they ought to
have desired the death of their husbands; but that they have not
welcomed the opportunity of continence when it has come. As it is, they
only change their garb; their old self-seeking remains unchanged. To
see them in their capacious litters, with red cloaks and plump bodies,
a row of eunuchs walking in front of them, you would fancy them not to
have lost husbands but to be seeking them. Their houses are filled with
flatterers and with guests. The very clergy, who ought to inspire them
with respect by their teaching and authority, kiss these ladies on the
forehead, and putting forth their hands (so that, if you knew no better
you might suppose them in the act of blessing), take wages for their
visits. They, meanwhile, seeing that priests cannot do without them,
are lifted up into pride; and as, having had experience of both, they
prefer the license of widowhood to the restraints of marriage, they
call themselves chaste livers and nuns. After an immoderate supper they
retire to rest to dream of the apostles.(1)
17. Let your companions be women pale and thin with
fasting, and approved by their years and conduct; such as daily sing in
their hearts: "Tell me where thou feedest thy flock, where thou makest
it to rest at noon,"(2) and say, with true earnestness, have