Ep. VI.
(Written about the same time, in a more serious
vein.)
What I wrote before about our stay in Pontus was
in joke, not in earnest; what I write now is very much in
earnest. O that one would place me as in the month of those
former days,4733
in which I
luxuriated with you in hard living; since voluntary
pain is more
valuable than involuntary
delight. O that one would give me back
those psalmodies and
vigils and those sojournings with
God in prayer, and that immaterial,
so to speak, and unbodied
life. O for the intimacy and
one-souledness of the
brethren who were by you divinized and
exalted: O for the contest and incitement of
virtue which we
secured by written Rules and Canons; O for the
loving labour in the
Divine Oracles, and the
light we found in them by the guidance of the
Holy
Ghost. Or, if I may speak of lesser and slighter matters, O
for the
daily courses and experiences; O for the gatherings of
wood,
and the cutting of
stone; O for the golden plane-
tree, more precious
than that of Xerxes, under which sat, not a King enfeebled by luxury,
but a Monk worn out by hard
life, which I
planted and
Apollos (I mean
your honourable self) watered;
4734
but
God gave the
increase to our honour, that a
memorial might remain among you of my
diligence, as in the
Ark we read and believe, did
Aaron’s
rod
that budded.
4735
To long for
all this is very easy, but it is not easy to attain it. But do
you come to me, and conspire with me in
virtue, and co-operate with me,
and aid me by your prayers to keep the
profit which we used to get
together, that I may not perish by little and little, like a shadow as
the day draws to its close. I would rather breathe you than the
air, and only live while I am with you, either actually in your
presence, or virtually by your likeness in your
absence.
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