Letter 99: Jerome forwards to Theophilus a translation of the latter's paschal letter for 404 A.D. and apologizes for his delay in sending it, on the ground that ill-health and grief for the death of Paula have prevented him from doing literary work. The date of the letter is 404 A.D.

JeromeTheophilus|c. 403 AD|jerome
education booksgrief deathillnessproperty economics
Military conflict; Literary culture; Economic matters

Jerome to the most blessed Pope Theophilus — greetings.

From the moment I received Your Holiness's letters, along with the paschal treatise, until this very day, I have been so overwhelmed by grief and mourning, by anxiety, and by the conflicting reports arriving from every direction about the state of the Church, that I have barely been able to complete the translation of your volume into Latin. The old saying is true: grief chokes utterance. It is doubly true when mental anguish is compounded by bodily illness. I have spent five days in bed with a burning fever. It is only by a great effort that I am even now able to dictate this letter.

But I want to convey to Your Holiness, in at least a few words, what pains I have taken in this translation — my effort to carry across into Latin something of the charm and precision that marks every sentence of your Greek original.

You open with the language of philosophy, and — without appearing to name anyone — you destroy one man's position while instructing all. In the remaining sections (a task of extraordinary difficulty) you weave together philosophy and rhetoric, giving us Demosthenes and Plato in a single piece of cloth. What a polemic you have launched against self-indulgence! What eulogies of continence! With what hidden reserves of wisdom you have written of the alternation of day and night, the courses of the moon, the laws of the sun, the nature of our world — always anchoring everything in Scripture, so that in a paschal letter not a single borrowing from secular sources need be admitted.

In short: I am afraid to praise you adequately, lest I seem to flatter you — and your virtues, I assure you, need no flattery from me.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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