Letter 46: (The new Archbishop seems not to have been satisfied with the reasons given in Gregory's last letter; so the latter writes again.) How can any affairs of yours be mere grape-gleanings to me, O dear and sacred friend? What a word has escaped the fence of your teeth, or how could you dare to say such a thing, if I too may be somewhat daring? How c...
How could your affairs ever be mere scraps to me, my dear and sacred friend?
What a thing to say! How could you dare write such a thing — if I too may be a little daring? How could your mind form it, your ink write it, your paper receive it — you, of all people, with your education and Athens and all your learning!
You nearly drive me to write a tragedy with that letter.
Don't you know me? Don't you know yourself — you, the eye of the world, the great voice and trumpet and palace of learning? Your affairs, trifles to Gregory? Then what on earth could anyone admire, if Gregory doesn't admire you? There is one spring among the seasons, one sun among the stars, one heaven that embraces all — and your voice is unique among all voices, if I'm any judge of these things and not blinded by affection (and I don't think I am).
But if you're blaming me for not valuing you according to your full worth, then you'd have to blame all of humanity, because no one has or ever will appreciate you enough — unless it's you yourself and your own eloquence, if it were possible to praise oneself and if such were our custom.
Are you upset that I'm acting like a philosopher? Let me say it: this, and this alone, is higher even than your conversation.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.
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Every bishop is a thing out of which it is very hard to get anything. The further you have advanced beyond other people in learning, the more you make me afraid that you will refuse what I ask. I want some rafters.
Had you been for a long time considering how best you could reply to my letter about yours, you could not in my judgment have acquitted yourself better than by writing as you have written now. You call me a sophist, and you allege that it is a sophist's business to make small things great and great things small. And you maintain that the object ...
Now I recognise men's description of me! Basil has praised me, and I am hailed victor over all! Now that I have received your vote, I am entitled to walk with the proud gait of a man who haughtily looks down on all the world.
(At the request of Anthimus it would appear that S. Gregory wrote to S. Basil a letter, not now extant, proposing a conference between the rival Metropolitans.