I have had a strong desire to meet you, but from time to time some hindrance has supervened and prevented my fulfilling my purpose.  I have either been hindered by sickness, and you know well how, from my early manhood to my present old age, this ailment has been my constant companion, brought up with me, and chastising me, by the righteous judgment of God, Who ordains all things in wisdom; or by the cares of the Church, or by struggles with the opponents of the doctrines of truth.  [Up to this day I live in much affliction and grief, having the feeling present before me, that you are wanting to me.  For when God tells me, who took on Him His sojourn in the flesh for the very purpose that, by patterns of duty, He might regulate our life, and might by His own voice announce to us the Gospel of the kingdom,—when He says, ‘By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another,’ and whereas the Lord left His own peace to His disciples as a farewell gift, ἑξιτήριον δῶρον.  cf. note on p. 46. when about to complete the dispensation in the flesh, saying, ‘Peace I leave with you, My peace I give you,’ I cannot persuade myself that without love to others, and without, as far as rests with me, peaceableness towards all, I can be called a worthy servant of Jesus Christ.  I have waited a long while for the chance of your love paying us a visit.  For ye are not ignorant that we, being exposed to all, as rocks running out in the sea, sustain the fury of the heretical waves, which, in that they break around us, do not cover the district behind.  I say “we” in order to refer it, not to human power, but to the grace of God, Who, by the weakness of men shows His power, as says the prophet in the person of the Lord, ‘Will ye not fear Me, who have placed the sand as a boundary to the sea?’ for by the weakest and most contemptible of all things, the sand, the Mighty One has bounded the great and full sea.  Since, then, this is our position, it became your love to be frequent in sending true brothers to visit us who labour with the storm, and more frequently letters of love, partly to confirm our courage, partly to correct any mistake of ours.  For we confess that we are liable to numberless mistakes, being men, and living in the flesh.]