Letter 7: 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 (§4), and attacks the conduct of Lupicinus, Bishop of Stridon (§5). 1.

Letter 7: To Chromatius, Jovinus, and Eusebius (374 AD) [Addressed to three of Jerome's former companions from his religious community. Two of them are brothers (hence the reference to natural connection). The letter praises the hermit Bonosus, asks guidance for Jerome's sister, and attacks Lupicinus, the bishop of their hometown Stridon.] 1. People bound together by mutual affection shouldn't be separated on the written page. So I won't divide my words among you, sending some to one and some to another. The love that binds you three together is so strong that the bond of friendship among all of you is no less close than the natural tie of blood between the two of you who are brothers. If the conventions of letter-writing allowed it, I'd fuse your names into a single symbol. The very letter I received from you challenges me to see all three in each of you, and each of you in all three. When the reverend Evagrius forwarded it to me here in the stretch of desert between Syria and the Saracen territory [the semi-arid steppe east of Antioch], my joy was immense — it utterly surpassed what Rome must have felt when the disaster of Cannae [216 BC, Rome's worst defeat by Hannibal] was avenged and Marcellus at Nola cut Hannibal's forces to pieces [in 215 BC, one of Rome's first successes against Hannibal]. Evagrius comes to see me often and cherishes me in Christ as his own flesh and blood. Yet since a long distance separates us, his departure always leaves me as much sadness as his arrival brings joy. 2. I hold conversation with your letter; I embrace it; to me it speaks. It's the only thing here that speaks Latin. Because in this region, you either learn a barbarous jargon or keep your mouth shut. Every time those lines — traced in a familiar hand — bring back the faces I love, either I'm no longer here, or you are here with me. But now, right at the start, let me ask one slightly petulant question: why, when we're separated by such a huge expanse of land and sea, did you send me such a short letter? Is it because I deserved no better, not having written to you first? I can't believe you ran out of paper — not as long as Egypt keeps supplying its goods. Even if a Ptolemy had closed off the seas, King Attalus would still have sent you parchment from Pergamum [the city of Pergamum, in Asia Minor, was famous for producing parchment — the very word derives from the city's name], so you could have made up for the lack of papyrus with animal skins. So what happened? Was the messenger in a hurry? Even the longest letter can be written in a single night. Were you too busy? No obligation comes before that of friendship. Two options remain: either you didn't feel like writing, or I didn't deserve a letter. Of the two, I'd rather accuse you of laziness than condemn myself as unworthy. Neglect is easier to fix than the absence of love. 3. You tell me that Bonosus, like a true son of the Fish [an early Christian symbol — the Greek word for fish, ICHTHYS, was read as an acronym for "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior"], has taken to the water. As for me, still foul with my old stains, I haunt the dry places like a basilisk or a scorpion [Deuteronomy 8:15]. Bonosus already has his heel on the serpent's head, while I am still food for the serpent that by divine decree devours the earth [Genesis 3:14]. He's already climbing that ladder of which the Psalms of Ascent [Psalms 120-134] are a type; while I, still weeping on the first step, barely know if I'll ever be able to say: "I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from which comes my help" [Psalm 121:1]. Amid the threatening waves of the world, he sits safe in the shelter of his island — that is, within the church's protection — and perhaps even now, like John on Patmos, he's being called to eat God's book [Revelation 10:9-10]; while I, still lying in the tomb of my sins, bound by the chains of my iniquities, wait for the Lord's command from the Gospel: "Jerome, come forth!" [John 11:43] But Bonosus has done even more than this. Like the prophet Jeremiah [Jeremiah 13:4-5], he has carried his belt across the Euphrates (for all the devil's strength is in the loins), hidden it in a crevice in the rock, and then, finding it rotted away, has sung: "O Lord, you have mastered my desires. You have broken my bonds. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving" [Psalm 116:16-17]. But as for me — Nebuchadnezzar has dragged me in chains to Babylon, to the babel of a distracted mind. There he has laid the yoke of captivity on me. There, pushing an iron ring through my nose [2 Kings 19:28], he has ordered me to sing one of the songs of Zion. I answer him: "The Lord frees the prisoners; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind" [Psalm 146:7-8]. To sum up my comparison in a single sentence: while I pray for mercy, Bonosus expects a crown. 4. My sister's conversion is the fruit of the saintly Julian's efforts [the recipient of Letter 6]. He planted; it's for you to water; and the Lord will give the increase [1 Corinthians 3:6]. Jesus Christ has given her back to me as consolation for the wound the devil inflicted on her. He has restored her from death to life. But in the words of the pagan poet: There is no safety that I do not fear. You know yourselves how slippery the path of youth is — a path on which I myself have fallen, and which you are now walking not without fear. She, as she sets out on it, needs the advice and encouragement of all of you. She needs frequent letters from you, my reverend brothers. And — since love endures all things [1 Corinthians 13:7] — I beg you to obtain from Pope Valerian [the Bishop of Aquileia — "pope" here is used in its older, broader sense of "father," applied to any bishop, not just the Bishop of Rome] a letter to confirm her resolution. A young woman's courage, as you know, is strengthened when she realizes that important people take an interest in her. 5. The fact is, my homeland [Stridon, Jerome's birthplace, on the border of Dalmatia and Pannonia] is a prey to barbarism. There, men's only god is their belly [Philippians 3:19]. They live only for the present, and the richer a man is, the holier he's considered. And to use a well-worn proverb, the dish has a cover worthy of it: Lupicinus is their bishop. As the saying goes, like lips, like lettuce — it's the only joke, as Lucilius tells us [the Roman satirist, c. 180-103 BC], at which Crassus ever laughed. (He was thinking of a donkey eating thistles.) What I mean is: an incompetent pilot is steering a leaky ship, and the blind are leading the blind straight into the ditch [Matthew 15:14]. The ruler is just like the ruled. 6. I salute your mother — who is mine as well [in the spiritual sense] — with the deep respect that, as you know, I feel toward her. United with you in a holy life, she has the advantage over you, her holy children, in that she is your mother. Her womb may truly be called golden. With her I salute your sisters, who ought to be welcomed everywhere they go, for they have triumphed over their sex and over the world, and await the Bridegroom's coming with their lamps filled with oil [Matthew 25:4, the parable of the wise and foolish virgins]. What a happy household — home to a widowed Anna, to prophetess-virgins, and to twin Samuels raised in the Temple [blending the figures of Anna the prophetess (Luke 2:36-38), the prophet Samuel raised in the temple, and the holy women and men of the household]! Fortunate the roof that shelters a mother of the Maccabees [2 Maccabees 7, where a mother watched her seven sons martyred rather than abandon their faith], surrounded by her children, each wearing a martyr's crown! For although you confess Christ every day by keeping his commandments, to this private glory you have added the public one of an open confession: it was through you that the poison of the Arian heresy [the theological movement that denied Christ's full divinity] was formerly driven from your city. You're probably surprised that I'm making a fresh start right at the end of my letter. But what can I do? I can't hold back my feelings. The narrow limits of a letter force me to be silent; my affection for you drives me to speak. I'm writing in haste; my language is jumbled and disorganized. But love knows nothing of order.

To Chromatius, Jovinus, and Eusebius. 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 (§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. 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 Cannæ 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. Yet as he is separated from me by a long distance, his departure has gener 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. 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. As for me who am still foul with my old stains, like the basilisk and the scorpion I haunt the dry places. Deuteronomy 8:15 Bonosus has his heel already on the serpent's head, while I am still as food to the same serpent which by divine appointment devours the earth. Genesis 3:14 He can scale already that ladder of which the psalms of degrees are a type; while I, still weeping on its first step, hardly know whether I shall ever be able to say: I will lift up my eyes unto the hills, from whence comes my help. Amid the threatening billows of the world he is sitting in the safe shelter of his island, 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; Revelation 10:9-10 while 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. John 11:43 But Bonosus has done more than this. Like the prophet Jeremiah 13:4-5 he has carried his girdle across the Euphrates (for all the devil's strength is in the loins ), and has hidden it there in a hole of the rock. Then, afterwards finding it rent, he has sung: O Lord, you have possessed my reins. You have broken my bonds in sunder. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving. 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, 2 Kings 19:28 he has commanded me to sing one of the songs of Zion. To whom I have said, The Lord looses the prisoners; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind. To complete my contrast in a single sentence, while 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. 1 Corinthians 3:6 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. You know yourselves how slippery is the path of youth — a path on which I have myself fallen, 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 endures all things, 1 Corinthians 13:7 — I beg you to get from Pope Valerian a letter to confirm her resolution. A girl's courage, as you know, is strengthened 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, 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. Like lips like lettuce, as the saying goes — the only one, as Lucilius tells us, 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, Matthew 25:4 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! Fortunate the roof which shelters the martyr-mother of the Maccabees, with her sons around her, each and all wearing the martyr's crown! 2 Maccabbees vii 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. About this page Source. Translated by W.H. Fremantle, G. Lewis and W.G. Martley. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 6. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1893.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3001007.htm>. Contact information. The editor of New Advent is Kevin Knight. My email address is feedback732 at newadvent.org. (To help fight spam, this address might change occasionally.) Regrettably, I can't reply to every letter, but I greatly appreciate your feedback — especially notifications about typographical errors and inappropriate ads.