Letter 10: Jerome writes to Paul of Concordia, a centenarian (§2), and the owner of a good theological library (§3), to lend him some commentaries. In return he sends him his life (newly written) of Paul the hermit. The date of the letter is 374 A.D.

Letter 10: To Paul, an Old Man of Concordia (374 AD) [Jerome writes to Paul of Concordia, a remarkable centenarian who owned a good theological library, asking to borrow some commentaries. In return, he sends his newly written Life of Paul the Hermit — Jerome's first hagiographical work.] 1. The shortness of human life is the punishment for human sin. The fact that even on the very threshold of existence, death constantly snatches away newborn children proves that the times keep sinking into deeper depravity. When the first gardener of Paradise [Adam] got himself tangled in the serpent's coils and was consequently evicted earthward, his deathless state was changed to a mortal one, yet the sentence of the curse was deferred for nine hundred years or more — a span so long it might be called a second immortality. After that, sin grew progressively more virulent, until the ungodliness of the giants [Genesis 6:4] brought on the shipwreck of the entire world. Then, when the world had been cleansed by the baptism (if I may call it that) of the flood, human life was contracted to a brief span. And even this we've almost entirely wasted, so constantly do our sins fight against divine purposes. For how few people either pass their hundredth year, or, having passed it, don't regret doing so? As the psalm says: "The days of our years are seventy; and if by reason of strength they reach eighty, yet their best is but toil and sorrow" [Psalm 90:10]. 2. Why, you ask, these opening reflections so roundabout that someone could throw Horace's joke at me: "Back to the eggs that Leda laid for Zeus / the bard insists on tracing the Trojan War"? [i.e., starting the story ridiculously far back] Simply so I can properly celebrate your great age and your head as white as Christ's own [Revelation 1:14]. A hundredth year is already passing over you, and yet, always keeping the Lord's commandments, amid the circumstances of your present life you think constantly about the blessedness of the life to come. Your eyes are bright and keen, your step is steady, your hearing sharp, your teeth white, your voice musical, your flesh firm and full of vitality. Your ruddy cheeks belie your white hair. Your strength defies your age. The advancing years haven't — as we so often see them do — impaired your memory; the cooling of your blood hasn't blunted an intellect that's both warm and shrewd. Your face isn't wrinkled, your brow isn't furrowed. No tremor shakes your hand or sends it wandering in crooked paths over the wax [writing tablets]. The Lord is showing us in you a preview of the resurrection that awaits us all. In others who die by inches while still living, we see the wages of sin; in your case, we credit your continuing youth at such an age to righteousness. And although we see similar physical health in many sinners too, in their case it's a gift from the devil to lead them into sin, while in yours it's a gift from God to make you rejoice. 3. Cicero, in his brilliant speech defending Flaccus, describes the learning of the Greeks as 'innate frivolity and accomplished vanity.' And certainly their cleverest literary men used to accept payment for delivering eulogies of kings and princes. Following their example, I'm setting a price on my praise. And don't think my demand is modest. What I'm asking for is the pearl of the Gospel [Matthew 13:46], the words of the Lord — "pure words, like silver tried in the earth and refined seven times in the fire" [Psalm 12:6]. Specifically: the commentaries of Fortunatianus [bishop of Aquileia, mid-4th century, who wrote a commentary on the Gospels], the History of Aurelius Victor [a 4th-century Roman historian] for its account of the persecutors, and the Letters of Novatian [a 3rd-century Roman schismatic who founded a rival church], so that by learning the poison spread by this schismatic, we may drink all the more gladly of the antidote supplied by the holy martyr Cyprian [bishop of Carthage, d. 258, who wrote extensively against schism]. In the meantime, I've sent to you — that is, to Paul the Old Man — a Paul who is even older [his Life of Paul the Hermit, traditionally considered the first Christian hermit, who supposedly lived to be 113]. I've taken great pains to bring my language down to a simpler level. But somehow, no matter how much water you pour in, the jar retains the flavor it absorbed when first used [a proverb from Horace — once formed, habits stick]. If my little gift pleases you, I have others in reserve which, if the Holy Spirit blows favorably, will sail across the sea to you loaded with all kinds of Eastern merchandise.

To Paul, an Old Man of Concordia Jerome writes to Paul of Concordia, a centenarian (§2), and the owner of a good theological library (§3), to lend him some commentaries. In return he sends him his life (newly written) of Paul the hermit. The date of the letter is 374 A.D. 1. The shortness of man's life is the punishment for man's sin; and the fact that even on the very threshold of the light death constantly overtakes the new-born child proves that the times are continually sinking into deeper depravity. For when the first tiller of paradise had been entangled by the serpent in his snaky coils, and had been forced in consequence to migrate earthwards, although his deathless state was changed for a mortal one, yet the sentence of man's curse was put off for nine hundred years, or even more, a period so long that it may be called a second immortality. Afterwards sin gradually grew more and more virulent, till the ungodliness of the giants Genesis 6:4 brought in its train the shipwreck of the whole world. Then when the world had been cleansed by the baptism— if I may so call it — of the deluge, human life was contracted to a short span. Yet even this we have almost altogether wasted, so continually do our iniquities fight against the divine purposes. For how few there are, either who go beyond their hundredth year, or who, going beyond it, do not regret that they have done so; according to that which the Scripture witnesses in the book of Psalms: the days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow. 2. Why, say you, these opening reflections so remote and so far fetched that one might use against them the Horatian witticism: Back to the eggs which Leda laid for Zeus, The bard is fain to trace the war of Troy? Simply that I may describe in fitting terms your great age and hoary head as white as Christ's. Revelation 1:14 For see, the hundredth circling year is already passing over you, and yet, always keeping the commandments of the Lord, amid the circumstances of your present life you think over the blessedness of that which is to come. Your eyes are bright and keen, your steps steady, your hearing good, your teeth are white, your voice musical, your flesh firm and full of sap; your ruddy cheeks belie your white hairs, your strength is not that of your age. Advancing years have not, as we too often see them do, impaired the tenacity of your memory; the coldness of your blood has not blunted an intellect at once warm and wary. Your face is not wrinkled nor your brow furrowed. Lastly, no tremors palsy your hand or cause it to travel in crooked pathways over the wax on which you write. The Lord shows us in you the bloom of the resurrection that is to be ours; so that whereas in others who die by inches while yet living, we recognize the results of sin, in your case we ascribe it to righteousness that you still simulate youth at an age to which it is foreign. And although we see the like haleness of body in many even of those who are sinners, in their case it is a grant of the devil to lead them into sin, while in yours it is a gift of God to make you rejoice. 3. Tully in his brilliant speech on behalf of Flaccus describes the learning of the Greeks as innate frivolity and accomplished vanity. Certainly their ablest literary men used to receive money for pronouncing eulogies upon their kings or princes. Following their example, I set a price upon my praise. Nor must you suppose my demand a small one. You are asked to give me the pearl of the Gospel, Matthew 13:46 the words of the Lord, pure words, even as the silver which from the earth is tried, and purified seven times in the fire, I mean the commentaries of Fortunatian and — for its account of the persecutors — the History of Aurelius Victor, and with these the Letters of Novatian; so that, learning the poison set forth by this schismatic, we may the more gladly drink of the antidote supplied by the holy martyr Cyprian. In the mean time I have sent to you, that is to say, to Paul the aged, a Paul that is older still. I have taken great pains to bring my language down to the level of the simpler sort. But, somehow or other, though you fill it with water, the jar retains the odor which it acquired when first used. If my little gift should please you, I have others also in store which (if the Holy Spirit shall breathe favorably), shall sail across the sea to you with all kinds of eastern merchandise. 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/3001010.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.