To Olympias. (From Arabissus, A.D. 406. Ὀλυμπίαδι, Xv., T. Iii., P. 601.)
Would you, who have given proof of so much mortification from your youth upwards, and have trodden human pride under foot, expect to live a quiet life without combat? How should this be? For if men who are fighting other men receive a thousand wounds in combats and wars, you who have been armed against principalities, and powers, and the lords of darkness in this world, against spiritual forces of wickedness, who have fought thus valiantly, and set up victorious trophies, and thus vexed the devil,—how should you hope to lead a peaceful and untroubled life? Therefore you should not be disquieted because battles, and agitation, and fears assail you on every side. You should wonder, on the contrary, if none of these things came to pass. Labour and peril are the lot of goodness. You knew this well enough before my letter, and do not need to learn it from others. I write this, then, since I am not instructing one who is ignorant. For we know that neither banishment from our country nor the loss of money, though insupportable to most men—neither contempt nor any other suffering of the kind, will be able to disturb you. For if the companions of those who have suffered these things have become enviable, how much more those who are actually suffering them? Therefore, on both accounts, Paul proclaims believers amongst the Hebrews, saying: Call to mind the former days, wherein, being illuminated, you endured a great fight of afflictions, and on the one hand, indeed, by reproaches and tribulations, were made a gazing-stock, and on the other became companions of them that were used in such sort. Therefore, there is no need for me to write a long letter. No man, indeed, goes to offer assistance to a conqueror who holds a splendid trophy of victory in his hands, but only praise. I, too, know how much interior spirit you have shown in what has befallen you. I account you blessed, and admire you for your patience in the present, as well as for the rewards which it will bring to you. I am well aware, however, that you wish to hear how I am getting on, for I have been silent for a very long time. I have thrown off the violence of my illness, but still feel its effects. I have had excellent physicians, yet the want of necessaries destroys the good of my cure. For not only are there no remedies here, and no one of the things required for a suffering body, but both famine and pestilence are imminent.