Spuria

A. Letter to His Daughter Abra. To his most beloved daughter Abra, Hilary sends greetings in the Lord. I have received your letter. I understand that you long for me, and indeed I hold it so, for I perceive how desirable the presence of those who love is. And because I knew that my absence is grievous to you, lest you perhaps think me impious toward you for being away from you so long, I wished to explain to you both my journey and my delays, so that you might understand that I am absent from you not impiously, but usefully. For since I hold you, daughter, as an only child, and, as far as it depends on me, as of one mind with me, and I wish you to live as the most beautiful and healthiest of all, (2) it was reported to me that there is a certain young man possessing a pearl and a garment of inestimable price, which if anyone could obtain from him, he would be both rich and safe beyond human riches and health. To this man, therefore, having heard these things, I set out. When I had come to him through many long and difficult roads, upon seeing him I immediately prostrated myself. For he is so beautiful a young man that no one dares to stand before his countenance.

When he saw that I had fallen down, he ordered me to be asked what I wanted and what I was seeking. And I replied that I had heard about his garment and pearl and had come, and that if he deigned to grant it to me, I had a daughter whom I loved very much, for whom I was seeking this garment and pearl. And amid these things, prostrate on my face, I weep very much and, groaning night and day, I beg that he might deign to hear my prayer. After these things, because he is a good young man and there is nothing better than him, he said to me: "Do you know this garment and this pearl, which you, weeping, beg from me to grant to your daughter?" And I replied to him: "Lord, I have learned of them by hearing and have believed by faith, and I know that they are the best, and that it is true salvation to use this garment and to be adorned with this pearl." And immediately he commanded his servants to show me both this garment and the pearl, and it was done at once. I first saw this garment; I saw—I saw what I cannot express. Was not silk compared to its fineness like esparto grass? Did not snow compared to its whiteness grow black? Did not gold next to its splendor not become tarnished? For it itself is many-colored, and absolutely nothing compared to it could be equaled.

After I saw the pearl, at the sight of which I immediately fell down, for my eyes could not sustain so great a radiance of it. For neither the appearance of the sky, nor of light, nor of the sea, nor of the earth could be compared to its beauty. And as I lay prostrate, one of those standing by said to me: 'I see that you are a solicitous and good father and that you desire this garment and this pearl for your daughter, but, that you may desire it more, I will show you what further good this garment and this pearl possess. This garment is never eaten by moths, is not worn out by use, is not stained by filth, is not torn by force, is not lost by damage, but always remains as it is. This pearl, however, has this power, that if anyone is clothed with it, he does not fall ill, does not grow old, does not die. It has in itself nothing at all that is subject to the body, but nothing happens to the one who uses it that either brings death or changes age or hinders health.' When I heard this, daughter, I began to be more faint with desire for the pearl and this garment, and, as I lay prostrate, with unceasing weeping and earnest prayer I began to beseech the young man, saying: 'Holy lord, have mercy on my prayer and have mercy on the anxiety of my life; for if you do not grant me this garment and this pearl, I will be wretched: I will lose my daughter while she lives. I wish to go into exile for the sake of this pearl and garment. You know, lord, that I do not lie to you.

After it heard my voice, it bade me rise and said to me: 'Your prayers and tears have moved me, and it is well that you believed this. And because you said that for this pearl you were willing to spend your very life, I cannot deny it to you, but you must know my intention and will. The garment which I shall give is such that, if anyone wishes to use another colored, silken, and gold-embroidered garment, he cannot take this garment of mine. But I shall give it to that one who is content to be clothed in a serious habit and in natural colors and in unexpensive fabric, so that, by custom, the garment may have a very narrow purple stripe, but not that the purple itself be spread throughout the garment. The pearl, however, which you seek from me is of such a nature that no one can possess it who has had another pearl, because other pearls are either from the earth or from the sea, but mine, as you yourself see, is beautiful and precious, incomparable and celestial; it does not deign to be there where others are. For my things do not accord with the things of man, because he who uses my garment and my pearl is forever healthy, does not burn with fever, is not open to wounds, is not changed by years, is not dissolved by death—he is equal, eternal. Yet I shall give this garment and this pearl of mine to you who ask, that you may bring them to your daughter. But first you must know what your daughter wishes.

if she makes herself worthy of this garment and my pearl, that is, if she is unwilling to have silken, gilded, and dyed garments, if she hates every other pearl, then I will grant you what you ask of me.' After that voice, my daughter, I rose up joyful, and having privacy, I wrote this letter to you, beseeching you with many tears of mine that you reserve yourself for this garment and pearl and not make a wretched old man suffer such a loss through you, if you do not have this garment and this pearl. Moreover, I call to witness for you, my daughter, the God of heaven and earth, that nothing is more precious than this pearl and this garment, and it is within your power to have them. Only, when another garment is offered to you, whether dyed or silken or gilded, say to the one who offers it: 'I await another garment, for which my father has been so long away from me, which he seeks for me, which I cannot have if I have this one. The wool of my sheep suffices me, the color that nature gave suffices me, the inexpensive weave suffices me. But I desire that garment which is said not to be consumed, not to be worn out, not to be torn.' But if a pearl is offered to you, either to be hung around the neck or fitted on a finger, say this: 'Let these useless and filthy pearls not be an impediment to me; I await that most beautiful, most precious, and most useful one—I trust my father, because he also trusted the one who promised it to him—for which he indicated to me that he was willing even to die.

I wait for her, I long for her, who will bring me salvation and eternity. Be, my daughter, a help to my anxiety, and always read this letter of mine, and reserve yourself for this garment and pearl. And you yourself, without asking me any questions, write back to me in whatever letters you can, whether you reserve yourself for this garment and pearl, so that I may know what to answer that young man, and so that, if you long for her, if you wait for her, I may be able to think joyfully about returning to you. But when you have written back to me, then I too will tell you who this young man is, and what he is like, and what he wants, and what he promises, and what he can do. Meanwhile, I have sent you a morning and evening hymn, so that you might always be mindful of me. But if, because of your age, you understand the hymn and the letter less well, ask your mother, who wishes that she has borne you by her character for God. May God, who begot you, keep you here and in eternity, I wish, my most beloved daughter. Amen.

Spurious Hymns. I. The Splendid Giver of Light. Splendid giver of light, by the light of whose word, after the fallen times of night, the day, poured back, is spread open, You are the true light-bringer of the world, not that one, who, as the herald of a small star of the coming light, shines with a narrow light, But brighter than the whole sun, light itself, whole and day, illuminating the inmost recesses of our breast. Be present, creator of things, glory of the paternal light, without whose withdrawn grace our bodies tremble. And, full of your spirit, bearing God within themselves, lest they lie open to the dreadful deceits of the faithless snatcher, So that among the acts of the age, which the custom of life demands, lacking all crime, we may live by your laws. May the chastity of the mind overcome the shameful lusts of the flesh, and may the spirit preserve the holy temple of the pure body. These are the hopes of the praying soul, these are the votive gifts, that the morning light may be for us a guard in the night. Glory to you, Lord, glory to the only-begotten, with the Paraclete Spirit, now and for every age. Amen.

II. Verses on Penitence. I am not worthy to lift my unhappy eyes to the bright stars of heaven, weighed down by the heavy burden of sins. Spare me, Redeemer! I neglected to do the good I ought to have done; I committed shameful crimes without end; I perpetrated wickedness bounded by no limit. Help me, Christ! All the sands that are on the salt shore of the sea, mixed with purple shells, cannot equal my vices, I confess, in evil. I grieve, pierced by many darts of sins from a bow which Venus of lust, smeared with the arrows of deadly gall, abundant, shot. The demon poured forth from his quiver flaming arrows; over my wound he immediately inflicted wounds, most foul, with wrinkled brow. I have become vile, beyond all vile things. Pride came secretly with a sword; it fixed the point of a blade in the middle of my heart with a bloody hand. The race of the serpent, envy, was present, bearing cups of pestilential poison; it gave me to drink; the author of death was a foul plague.

A terrifying discord, bearing a torch in her face, set it alight with sulphurous flame and placed it beneath my breast, and boiled me bitterly. Among these things, too, empty glory, wearing feathered wings, flew past in haste, and tried to destroy me suddenly with a windy deceit. Gluttony came, piping on a reed, thrusting forward the good things of the present time, stretched my belly, made me drunk, and mingled laughter. Now allow me, Lord, to mourn the evils I have done, guilty from infancy; grant me tears, by your grace, from the depths of my heart. For my vices, I think, the torments of Tartarus cannot suffice, unless your mercy, Christ, comes to my aid, wretched as I am. No sin upon the face of the earth, nor any crime that can be found, from whose filth I am not stained—unhappy me. Sunrise, sunset, the north wind, the north, sky and earth, sea, springs, rivers, mountains and hills, fields, lilies mingled with little roses—weep! Lament with me, you glittering stars; roar with me, you beasts of the forest; say: "You are wretched, who groan under impious crime." Who can snatch me from the hand of fire-belching Cocytus, except the only Son of the Father, who redeemed the world with his precious blood, by right? Redeemer of the world, only hope of all, equal to the Father and the Holy Spirit, threefold and one God, invisible—come to my aid! If you weigh me on a subtle balance, no hope of trust remains in me, but I beg, save me by your power, Son of God.

Remove sin, wash away crimes, cleanse the filth, and with the gift of the charisms kindly restore my little breast by your gift. I seek pardon, trusting not in my own merits, but certain of your mercy, you who, with your customary piety, freely bestow good things upon the guilty. Christ, always with right faith on my lips, I have confessed you in my heart as orthodox, I have rejected the wicked dogma of heretics with a pure breast. With a faithful throat modulating a hymn, I spurn Arius, the barking Sabellius, I have never assented to the grunting Simon with a whispering throat. I have been zealous with zeal for the name of Christ, for holy mother church nourished me with catholic milk through all time at her sacred breast. Glory to the one and only holy Trinity—to God the Father, the Son, the Paraclete—let my praise resound in my mouth through the ages always to the Lord.