Letters

^1. Your letter which has suddenly arrived was not expected by me, and coming in an unlooked for way it has helped to rouse me from my torpor by the glad tidings which it conveys. I hasten to embrace with the arms of love one whom my eyes have never seen, and silently say to myself:— '“oh that I had wings like a dove! For then would I flee away and be at rest.”' Then would I find him “whom my soul loves.” In you the Lord's words are now truly fulfilled: “many shall come from the east and west and shall sit down with Abraham.” In those days the faith of my Lucinius was foreshadowed in Cornelius, “centurion of the band called the Italian band.” And when the apostle Paul writes to the Romans: “whenever I take my journey into Spain I will come to you: for I trust to see you in my journey, and to be brought on my way thitherward by you;” he shows by the tale of his previous successes what he looked to gain from that province. Laying in a short time the foundation of the gospel “from Jerusalem and round about unto Illyricum,” he enters Rome in bonds, that he may free those who are in the bonds of error and superstition. Two years he dwells in his own hired house that he may give to us the house eternal which is spoken of in both the testaments. The apostle, the fisher of men, has cast forth his net, and, among countless kinds of fish, has landed you like a magnificent gilt-bream. You have left behind you the bitter waves, the salt tides, the mountain-fissures; you have despised Leviathan who reigns in the waters. Your aim is to seek the wilderness with Jesus and to sing the prophet's song: “my soul thirsts for you, my flesh longs for you in a dry and thirsty land where no water is; to see your power and your glory, so as I have seen you in the sanctuary,” or, as he sings in another place, “lo, then would I wander far off and remain in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.” Since you have left Sodom and are hastening to the mountains, I beseech you with a father's affection not to look behind you. Your hands have grasped the handle of the plough, the hem of the Saviour's garment, and His locks wet with the dew of night; do not let them go. Do not come down from the housetop of virtue to seek for the clothes which you wore of old, nor return home from the field. Do not like Lot set your heart on the plain or upon the pleasant gardens; for these are watered not, as the holy land, from heaven but by Jordan's muddy stream made salt by contact with the Dead Sea.