The Life of the Holy Fathers

De Vitis Patrum (Vita Patris), Book Ia By Jerome, presbyter, and various others

Life No 1 The Life of St Paul, the first hermit, [Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on Jan 15] by Jerome, presbyter & divine [c.341 - 420. Biblical scholar and Doctor of the Church]

Prologue There is a controversy among many people about who was the first person to take to living in the desert as a hermit. Some point back as far as the blessed Elijah and John the Baptist as being among the first. Yet Elijah seems to us to have been more of a prophet than a monk, and as for John, he began to prophesy even before he was born! (Luke 1.44). Others say that Antony was the first, an opinion that is commonly held by the mass of the people, but that is only partly true. For it is not so much that he was the first as that he was the one who did so much to encourage others to do so. Indeed, even the disciples of Antony, Amathas and Macarius, the former of whom buried Antony's body, nowadays assert that Paul of Thebes was the pioneer of this kind of life. I incline to that opinion myself, although there are many who will repeat all sorts of stories as the whim takes them, such as that Paul was only a man covered in hair right down to his feet living in a hole in the ground, and other invented tales too tedious to trouble with. Such impudent lies need to be refuted. So then, seeing that Antony is now being diligently publicised both in Latin and Greek, [Athanasius' Life of Antony, written between 356 and 362, was widely circulated in the ancient world] I have decided to write something about the beginnings and end of Paul's life, not because I have any great confidence in my own ability, but simply because so far it has not been dealt with. What happened during the greater part of his life, or what battles with Satan he endured, it is not given to any man to know.

The Life Chapter I During the persecutions of Decius and Valerian a savage storm laid waste many of the churches of Egypt and the Thebaid. It was during this time that Cornelius at Rome and Cyprian at Carthage gloriously shed their blood. [Both celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on September 14. The year of their martyrdom was 253] To be put to the sword for the name of Christ was held to be a true Christian sacrifice. But the enemy wanted to subdue the soul even more than the body, and they invented ingenious, lingering ways of putting people to death. As Cyprian, who suffered like that, said, 'Although they wanted to die, death was withheld from them'. I shall give you a couple of examples of this so that the cruelty of it may be more thoroughly understood.

Chapter II There was one particular martyr who persevered victoriously in the faith through tortures by racks and hot metal plates, so they ordered him to be smeared all over with honey and laid him out in the heat of the sun with his hands tied behind his back, hoping that even though he had survived the hot frying pan he might succumb to the burning pain of the insect bites.

Chapter III They ordered another young man in the flower of his youth to be taken into a most pleasant little garden, with white lilies and red roses, and a gentle murmuring stream winding through it, and the wind making a sweet whisper though the leaves of the trees, where they made him lie down on a feather bed, and left him there, tied down with soft silken bonds to prevent him escaping. [They tried to bring a prostitute] in the hope of so inciting him to lust that she might win a shameless victory over him. I don't know how this soldier of Christ did it, or how he summoned up his resolve. But will pleasure be the victor where torments fail? For at length, inspired by heaven, he bit off his tongue and spat it in her face as she tried to kiss him. And so the immense pain which followed was stronger than the feeling of lust.

Chapter IV At the time when these things were happening Paul was about fifteen years old. He and his married sister had lost both their parents, who had left them a wealthy inheritance. He was highly educated in both Greek and Egyptian, a gentle soul, and a great lover of God. And when the storm of persecution exploded he fled secretly to a distant village. And then - 'how is it that you have such power over the human breast, O dedicated desire for gold?' -
[Virgil's Aeneid, Book 3]
his brother-in-law who should have sheltered him sought to betray him. The tears of his wife, their common family ties, not even God who sees all from on high could stop him in his wickedness. The pursuit of cruelty will drive people to extremes just as godliness does. But when that most prudent youth heard of it, he fled to the mountains in the desert until the persecutions should come to an end. But what had been forced upon him by necessity came to be something which he welcomed, and as he gradually moved away, bit by bit as necessary, over and over again, he came at last upon a rocky mountain with a large cave at the foot of it and a large stone over the entrance. After removing the stone and going in, eager to explore the unknown with a human curiosity, he found a spacious chamber, with an opening to the sky above covered over by spreading branches of an ancient palm tree. There was a sparkling spring there, from which a stream overflowed through a little opening, and soaked away into the earth. There were also a few little buildings near the foot of the mountain containing the knives and anvils and mallets used to strike coins; Egyptian writings tell us that this used to be the site of a secret minting factory at the time when Antony and Cleopatra were together.

Chapter V Accepting gratefully this dwelling which God had given him, he began to spend his time in prayer and solitude. The palm tree provided him with both food and clothing. And lest you think that is impossible, I call Jesus and his holy Angels to witness that in that part of the desert next to the Saracens of Syria I saw myself one of the monks who had been enclosed for thirty years living on barley bread and muddy water. There was another living in an old water cistern, in the pagan tongue of the Syrians known as a cuba, who survived on five dried figs a day. Such things might seem unbelievable to those outside the faith, but all things are possible to those who do believe.

Chapter VI But to return from where I had digressed, by the time Paul reached the age of a hundred and thirteen, the ninety-year-old Antony was still living in another part of the desert. Antony used to say that it then occurred to him to wonder whether there was any monk in the desert more perfect than he was, and it was revealed to him at night while sleeping that there was one much better than he further into the mountain, and that he ought to make haste to visit him. As dawn broke the venerable old man set out he knew not where, supporting his weak old limbs with the help of a staff. By the middle of the day with the sun hot overhead he was burning with the heat, but did not consider for a minute abandoning the journey once begun. "I believe in my God, " he said, "who will show me his servant as he has promised." He had no sooner spoken than he saw a creature half man, half horse, which in the opinion of the poets is called a Hippocentaur. As soon as he saw it he signed himself on the forehead with the cross. "You, there!" he cried, "Whereabouts in these parts does the servant of God live?" The creature made strange, half crazy noises, mangling words which meant nothing, with a face all covered with bristly hair, while fawningly trying to make itself understood. It then pointed with its right hand in the desired direction, raced over the open countryside with the speed of a bird and vanished from sight. I don't rightly know whether this was an apparition sent by the devil to terrify him, or simply an animal spawned by the desert, which is a breeding ground for all sorts of monstrous beasts.

Chapter VII Dumbfounded, Antony turned over in his mind what he had seen and went on a bit further. After a short time he saw a tiny little man in a stony hollow, with a hooked nose and horns on his forehead, with his lower parts ending in the hooves of a goat. Although apprehensive at this sight, Antony like the good warrior he was seized the shield of faith and the breastplate of hope (Ephesians 6.14). In spite of Antony's fears, this memorable creature by way of a peace offering offered him some dates as food for the journey, which he accepted and moved closer "What are you?" Antony asked. "I am mortal," he replied, "and one of those denizens of the desert which the pagans worshipped under the names of Fauns, Satyrs and Incubi. I come to you as an envoy from my people. We beseech you that you will pray for us to our common God, who we know came to save the world, and sends out his sound into all lands" (Psalms 19.4). At these words our long-lived traveller's face was freely furrowed with tears, indicating the depth of joy pouring into his heart. For he was rejoicing in the glory of Christ who has overcome Satan, at the same time giving thanks that he could understand what the creature was saying. He struck his staff on the ground and cried out. "Woe to you, Alexandria, who worship portents instead of God; woe to you, O city that has played the harlot, where demons congregate from all over the world! What can you say now? For the very beasts speak of Christ, while you still worship portents instead of Christ." He had hardly finished speaking when the horned animal fled as if it had wings. Lest anyone should be tempted to disbelieve any of this, remember that the whole world bears witness to the fact that during the reign of the Emperor Constantius [Died in 306. He was the father of Constantine the Great] .a living creature like this was put on show in Alexandria, providing the people with an extraordinary sight. And later its dead body was taken to Antioch, preserved in salt lest it rot in the heat, where the Emperor himself saw it.

Chapter VIII But to return to my story, Antony continued on his journey as he had begun, looking out for the tracks of wild beasts in the wide vastness of the desert. How he did it, and where his path took him, I know not. Another day had come to an end. finding him untroubled, as one who was confident that Christ would not desert him. He passed the second spell of darkness in prayer the whole night through, and in the dim light of dawn he saw a wolf, panting with a burning thirst, creeping towards the foot of a mountain. He watched where it went, and after it had reappeared out of a cave and gone away, he went towards the cave himself. He began to look inside, but could see nothing to satisfy his curiosity, for darkness obscured his vision. But as Scripture says, 'perfect love casts out fear' (I John 4.18), so he went in with slow steps and bated breath, like a skilled explorer. Little by little he went a bit further, with frequent pauses, until suddenly he heard a sound. And then through the oppressive sightless darkness he caught a glimpse of a light in the distance. He hastened towards it eagerly, and struck his foot against a stone, making another loud noise. When the blessed Paul heard this he closed the door which had been open, thinking that now he could shut the wolf out. Antony then walked about outside it until it was later than the sixth hour, begging for admittance. "You know who I am, where I came from, and why I have come," he said. "I know I don't deserve to see you. However, I shan't go away till I do. You take wild animals in to you. Why do you drive human beings away? I have searched for you and found you. I have knocked, so please open up! If I don't succeed I shall die right outside your own doorposts. And you will have to bury my body." 'He stayed there unmoving, persisting in bringing these things to mind. [Virgil's Aeneid, Book 2] To which the hero replied in a few words, thus'. [Virgil's Aeneid, Book 6 ] "Certainly, no one asks like that if he is about to threaten trouble," he said, "and no one who is weeping such tears is likely to do anyone any harm, but why should you wonder that I have not opened my door, since you yourself have said that you are coming here to die?" And Paul at last opened his door with a smile. They embraced each other, greeted each other by name, gave thanks to God together, gave each other a holy kiss, and sat down. "There now!" said Paul. "Just look at what you have gone to so much trouble to find: nothing but uncared for grey hairs covering limbs wasted with old age. See, I am nothing but a human being, and will soon be nothing but dust. But still, since 'charity beareth all things' (1 Corinthians 13.7), tell me how the human race is going on, whether new buildings have been going up in the ancient cities, how the world is governed, and if there is anyone left still under the power of the demons."

Chapter IX As they were speaking, they saw a raven coming to rest in the branches of the tree. It gently flew down and placed a whole loaf of bread before their wondering eyes before flying off again. "How marvellous!" said Paul. "The kind and most merciful Lord for the last sixty years has been sending me half a loaf of bread. And now because of your coming he has sent his servants a double measure!" They gave thanks for the works of the Lord and sat down by the side of the sparkling spring. From then until evening time they had an argument about who should break the bread. Paul said that the guest should do so, Antony said the elder should. At last they came to a compromise, that each should take hold of one end of the loaf and pull, with the result that each would have a portion of the loaf in his hands. Each of them then drank a little water lying face downwards, after which they spent the night in a vigil, offering God the sacrifice of praise.

Chapter X When day at last returned to the earth, Paul had this to say to Antony. "For a long time, brother, I have known that you lived in these parts. He promised me that one day he would send you to be my fellow servant. But the time of my going is at hand, and I have ever been longing to 'depart and be with Christ' (Phillipians 1.23). 'I have finished the course, there remains for me the crown of righteousness' (2 Timothy 4.7-8). The Lord has sent you to me to cover my body with earth. - yes, indeed, you will give back earth to earth." Antony wept and lamented at the thought of being thus deserted, and prayed that he might share such a journey with him. "You don't need to know your own end," said Paul, "but that of another. All you need to do is to follow the Lamb until the time comes for you to lay down the burden of the flesh, and it will be for other brothers to follow the example of what you are now about to do. Hasten, therefore, before it is too late, and bring me the cloak which Archbishop Athanasius gave you, so that you can wrap my body in it." Blessed Paul asked this not because he greatly cared whether his body would rot either clothed or naked, for he had been clothed anyway for a very long time in clothes made from palm leaves, but that Antony's sadness over his coming death would be lessened if he were to go away.

Chapter XI Antony was quite stunned by what Paul said about Athanasius and his cloak, but, as if he were listening to the words of Christ himself, with the fear of God in his heart, he did not dare do otherwise, but with silent tears he kissed Paul's eyes and hands, and returned to that monastery which later was occupied by the Saracens. His going was not to his liking, for his body was weak because of his age and his fasting, and yet his spirit enabled him to overcome the effects of age. His journey done, he arrived at last at his cell, tired out and panting for breath. The two disciples who had ministered to him for a very long time came running to meet him. "Where have you been all this time, father?" they asked. "Woe is me, a sinner," he replied. "It is deceitful for me to be called a monk. For I have seen Elijah, and John the Baptist in the desert, and truly, Paul in paradise." He said no more but beat his breast and took the cloak out of the cell. "Won't you tell us any more about what is going on?" the disciples asked. "'There is a time for speaking and a time for keeping quiet,'" (Ecclesiastes 3.7) he replied, and without taking even a small portion of food, went out and took the road by which he had just come, aching for Paul, longing to see him, making pictures of him in his mind. For he feared that in his absence he might have given up his spirit to Christ. Which was, in fact, what had happened.

Chapter XII For at the third hour of the next day he saw Paul, shining brightly in a robe as white as snow, ascending into heaven in the midst of choirs of prophets and angels, and immediately he fell on his face, threw sand all over his head, and wept and wailed. "Why have you left us, Paul?" he cried. "Why have you gone without bidding farewell? I have only now begun to know you; why have you so suddenly departed?" The blessed Antony said later that he ran the rest of the way so quickly that it was as if he were flying. And rightly so. For when he went in to the cave he found Paul on his knees with his head and arms stretched out, his body motionless. Thinking at first that Paul was praying he prayed also. But when he heard none of the usual responses being uttered, he rushed towards him with a tearful kiss, and realised that this was indeed the corpse of the holy man. And he offered the prayers for the dead to the God unto whom all things live.

Chapter XIII He wrapped the body up and dragged it outside, singing the traditional Christian hymns and psalms. He was worried that he had no spade to dig the ground with, and turned the problem over in his mind, weighing up the various possibilities. "If I go back to the monastery," he said, " it will be a three day journey. But if I stay here, there is nothing I can do. So then, let me die here, as is fitting. Let me take my last breath, O Christ, next to your warrior, Paul." In the midst of his perplexity he was suddenly aware of two lions bounding towards him out of the desert, their manes streaming out behind them. At first he was terrified, then turning his mind back towards God, he stood there quite calmly, as if it were only two doves he was looking at. The lions ran straight to the holy man's body, with their tails between their legs, lay down at his feet and roared loudly, so that Antony could not fail to understand that they were indeed mourning in the only way they knew how. Then they began to scrape away the earth at a little distance, hollowing out the sand to make a grave big enough for a human being. Then as if to seek a reward for their deed, they came towards Antony with their ears pricked up and their necks stretched out to lick his hands and feet. And he realised that they were asking for his blessing. Without delay he poured out praise to Christ that even dumb animals looked to God. "O God, without whom not a leaf flutters down from the tree and not a sparrow falls to the ground, (Matthew 10.29), be it unto these creatures according to your will." And he motioned with his hand for them to go. After they had gone he carried the body on his bent and aged shoulders and put it in the grave, covered it over with earth, and built a mound over it according to the custom. Another day dawned, and Antony, as the only heir of this man who had died intestate, took possession of the tunic which Paul had woven for himself out of palm leaves in a basket weave pattern. And so he went back to his monastery, where he gave his disciples an account of everything that had happened. And from then on he always wore the tunic of Paul on the solemn feasts of Easter and Pentecost.

Chapter XIV To conclude this little work, let me ask those who don't know the extent of their inheritance, who live in marble halls, and who make sure that an only son will benefit from all their wealth, whether this old man ever lacked anything in his nakedness. You drink from precious goblets, he was satisfied with his cupped hands, you wear tunics of golden thread, his clothing was rougher than that of your meanest slave. But to him in his deepest poverty the gates of paradise were opened, you with your gold will inherit hell. He, naked, was clothed with Christ, you in your silks have lost Christ's covering. Paul, buried in barren dust, will rise again in glory, you vaunting yourselves in sumptuous tombs, will burn with all your works. I beg you, share, share out at least some of your cherished riches. Why are your dead entombed in golden shrouds? How is it that your ambition is not slaked even in the midst of the tears of mourning? Do you imagine that the bodies of the dead will not rot if wrapped in silk? Whoever you are that reads this story, I beg that you will remember Jerome, a sinner, who if the Lord were to give him a choice, would much prefer the tunic of Paul with all its merit than the purple of kings and their kingdoms.

Life No 2 The Life of Antony by Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria

The life and conversation of our holy Father, Antony: written and sent to the monks in foreign parts by our Father among the Saints, Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria. Athanasius [1] the bishop to the brethren in foreign parts.

You have entered upon a noble rivalry with the monks of Egypt by your determination either to equal or surpass them in your training in the way of virtue. For by this time there are monasteries among you, and the name of monk receives public recognition. With reason, therefore, all men will approve this determination, and in answer to your prayers God will give its fulfilment. Now since you asked me to give you an account of the blessed Antony's way of life, and are wishful to learn how he began the discipline, who and what manner of man he was previous to this, how he closed his life, and whether the things told of him are true, that you also may bring yourselves to imitate him, I very readily accepted your behest, for to me also the bare recollection of Antony is a great accession of help. And I know that you, when you have heard, apart from your admiration of the man, will be wishful to emulate his determination; seeing that for monks the life of Antony is a sufficient pattern of discipline. Wherefore do not refuse credence to what you have heard from those who brought tidings of him; but think rather that they have told you only a few things, for at all events they scarcely can have given · circumstances of so great import in any detail. And because I at your request have called to mind a few circumstances about him, and shall send as much as I can tell in a letter, do not neglect to question those who sail from here: for possibly when all have told their tale, the account will hardly be in proportion to his merits. On account of this I was desirous, when I received your letter, to send for certain of the monks, those especially who were wont to be more frequently with him, that if I could learn any fresh details I might send them to you. But since the season for sailing was coming to an end and the letter-carrier urgent, I hastened to write to your piety what I myself know, having seen him many times, and what I was able to learn from him, for I was his attendant for a long time, and poured water on his hands [2]; in all points being mindful of the truth, that no one should disbelieve through hearing too much, nor on the other hand by hearing too little should despise the man.

I. Antony you must know was by descent an Egyptian: his parents were of good family and possessed considerable wealth [2a], and as they were Christians he also was reared in the same Faith. In infancy he was brought up with his parents, knowing nought else but them and his home. But when he was grown and arrived at boyhood, and was advancing in years, he could not endure to learn [2b] letters, not caring to associate with other boys; but all his desire was, as it is written of Jacob, to live a plain man at home [3]. With his parents he used to attend the Lord's House, and neither as a child was he idle nor when older did he despise them; but was both obedient to his father and mother and attentive to what was read, keeping in his heart what was profitable in what he heard. And though as a child brought up in moderate affluence, he did not trouble his parents for varied or luxurious fare, nor was this a source of pleasure to him; but was content simply with what he found nor sought anything further.

2. After the death of his father and mother he was left alone with one little sister: his age was about eighteen or twenty, and on him the care both of home and sister rested. Now it was not six months after the death of his parents, and going according to custom into the Lord's House, he communed with himself and reflected as he walked how the Apostles [4] left all and followed the Saviour; and how they in the Acts [5] sold their possessions and brought and laid them at the Apostles' feet for distribution to then needy, and what and how great a hope was laid up for them in heaven. Pondering over these things he entered the church, and it happened the Gospel was being read, and he heard the Lord saying to the rich man [6], 'If thou wouldest be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor; and come follow Me and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.' Antony, as though God had put him in mind of the Saints, and the passage had been read on his account, went out immediately from the church, and gave the possessions of his forefathers to the villagers--they were three hundred acres [7], productive and very fair --that they should be no more a clog upon himself and his sister [8]. And all the rest that was movable he sold, and having got together much money he gave it to the poor, reserving a little however for his sister's sake.

3. And again as he went into the church, hearing the Lord say in the Gospel [9], ' be not anxious for the morrow,' he could stay no longer, but went out and gave those things also to the poor. Having committed his sister to known and faithful virgins, and put her into a convent [10] to be brought up, he henceforth devoted himself outside his house to discipline [11], taking heed to himself and training himself with patience. For there were not yet so many monasteries [12] in Egypt, and no monk at all knew of the distant desert; but all who wished to give heed to themselves practised the discipline in solitude near their own village. Now there was then in the next village an old man who had lived the life of a hermit from his youth up. Antony, after he had seen this man, imitated him in piety. And at first he began to abide in places out side the village: then if he heard of a good man anywhere, like the prudent bee, he went forth and sought him, nor turned back to his own palace until he had seen him; and he returned, having got from the good man as it were supplies for his journey in the way of virtue. So dwelling there at first, he confirmed his purpose not to return to the abode of his fathers nor to the remembrance of his kinsfolk; but to keep all his desire and energy for perfecting his discipline. He worked, however. with his hands, having heard, 'he who is idle let him not eat [13],' and part he spent on bread and part he gave to the needy. And he was constant in prayer, knowing that a man ought to pray in secret unceasingly [14]. For he had given such heed to what was read that none of the things that were written fell from him to the ground, but he remembered all, and afterwards his memory served him for books.

4. Thus conducting himself, Antony was beloved by all. He subjected himself in sincerity to the good men whom he visited, and learned thoroughly where each surpassed him in zeal and discipline. He observed the graciousness of one; the unceasing prayer of another; he took knowledge of another's freedom from anger and another's loving-kindness; he gave heed to one as he watched, to another as he studied; one he admired for his endurance, another for his fasting and sleeping on the ground; the meekness of one and the long-suffering of another he watched with care, while he took note of the piety towards Christ and the mutual love which animated all. Thus filled, he returned to his own place of discipline, and henceforth would strive to unite the qualities of each, and was eager to show in himself the virtues of all. With others of the same age he had no rivalry; save this only, that he should not be second to them in higher things. And this he did so as to hurt the feelings of nobody, but made them rejoice over him. So all they of that village and the good men in whose intimacy he was, when they saw that he was a man of this sort, used to call him God-beloved. And some welcomed him as a son, others as a brother. 5. But the devil, who hates and envies what is good, could not endure to see such a resolution in a youth, but endeavoured to carry out against him what he had been wont to effect against others. First of all he tried to lead him away from the discipline, whispering to him the remembrance of his wealth, care for his sister, claims of kindred, love of money, love of glory, the various pleasures of the table and the other relaxations of life, and at last the difficulty of virtue and the labour of it; he suggested also the infirmity of the body and the length of the time. In a word he raised in his mind a great dust of debate, wishing to debar him from his settled purpose. But when the enemy saw himself to be too weak for Antony's determination, and that he rather was conquered by the other's firmness, overthrown by his great faith and falling through his constant prayers, then at length putting his trust in the weapons which are [15] 'in the navel of his belly' and boasting in them--for they are his first snare for the young--he attacked the young man, disturbing him by night and harassing him by day, so that even the onlookers saw the struggle which was going on between them. The one would suggest foul thoughts and the other counter them with prayers: the one fire him with lush the other, as one who seemed to blush, fortify his body with faith, prayers, and fasting. And the devil, unhappy wight, one night even took upon him the shape of a woman and imitated all her acts simply to beguile Antony. But he, his mind filled with Christ and the nobility inspired by Him, and considering the spirituality of the soul, quenched the coal of the other's deceit. Again the enemy suggested the ease of pleasure. But he like a man filled with rage and grief turned his thoughts to the threatened fire and the gnawing worm, and setting these in array against his adversary, passed through the temptation unscathed. All this was a source of shame to his foe. For he, deeming himself like God, was now mocked by a young man; and he who boasted himself against flesh and blood was being put to flight by a man in the flesh. For the Lord was working with Antony--the Lord who for our sake took flesh [16] and gave the body victory over the devil, so that all who truly fight can say [17], ' not I but the grace of God which was with me.'

6. At last when the dragon could not even thus overthrow Antony, but saw himself thrust out of his heart, gnashing his teeth as it is written, and as it were beside himself, he appeared to Antony like a black boy, taking a visible shape [17a] in accordance with the colour of his mind. And cringing to him, as it were, he plied him with thoughts no longer, for guileful as he was, he had been worsted, but at last spoke in human voice and said, 'Many I deceived, many I cast down; but now attacking thee and thy labours as I had many others, I proved weak.' When Antony asked, Who art thou who speakest thus with me ? he answered with a lamentable voice, 'I am the friend of whoredom, and have taken upon me incitements which lead to it against the young. I am called the spirit of lust. How many have I deceived who wished to live soberly, how many are the chaste whom by my incitements I have over-persuaded! I am he on account of whom also the prophet reproves those who have fallen, saying [17b], "Ye have been caused to err by the spirit of whoredom." For by me they have been tripped up. I am he who have so often troubled thee and have so often been overthrown by thee.' But Antony having given thanks to the Lord, with good courage said to him, ' Thou art very despicable then, for thou art black-hearted and weak as a child. Henceforth I shall have no trouble from thee [18], "for the Lord is my helper, and I shall look down on mine enemies."' Having heard this, the black one straightway fled, shuddering at the words and dreading any longer even to come near the man.

7. This was Antony's first struggle against the devil, or rather this victory was the Saviour's work in Antony [19], 'Who condemned sin in the flesh that the ordinance of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not after the flesh but after the spirit.' But neither did Antony, although the evil one had fallen, henceforth relax his care and despise him; nor did the enemy as though conquered tease to lay snares for him. For again he went round as a lion seeking some occasion against him. But Antony having learned from the Scriptures that the devices [20] of the devil are many, zealously continued the discipline, reckoning that though the devil had not been able to deceive his heart by bodily pleasure, he would endeavour to ensnare him by other means. For the demon loves sin. Wherefore more and more he repressed the body and kept it in subjection [1], lest haply having conquered on one side, he should be dragged down on the other. He therefore planned to accustom himself to a severer mode of life. And many marvelled, but he himself used to bear the labour easily; for the eagerness of soul, through the length of time it had abode in him, had wrought a good habit in him, so that taking but little initiation from others he shewed great zeal in this matter. He kept vigil to such an extent that he often continued the whole night without sleep; and this not once but often, to the marvel of other. He ate once a day, after sunset, sometimes once in two days, and often even in four. His food was bread and salt, his drink, water only. Of flesh and wine it is superfluous even to speak, since no such thing was found with the other earnest men. A rush mat served him to sleep upon, but for the most part he lay upon the bare ground. He would not anoint himself with oil, saying it behoved young men to be earnest in training and not to seek what would enervate the body; but they must accustom it to labour, mindful of the Apostle's words [2], ' when I am weak, then am I strong.' 'For,' said he, 'the fibre of the soul is then sound when the pleasures of the body are diminished.' And he had come to this truly wonderful conclusion, 'that progress in virtue, and retirement from the world for the sake of it, ought not to be measured by time, but by desire and fixity of purpose. He at least gave no thought to the past, but day by day, as if he were at the beginning of his discipline, applied greater pares for advancement, often repeating to himself the saying of Paul [3]: 'Forgetting the things which are behind and stretching forward to the things which are before.' He was also mindful of the words spoken by the prophet Elias [4], 'the Lord liveth before whose presence I stand to-day.' For he observed that in saying 'to-day' the prophet did not compute the time that had gone by: but daily as though ever commencing he eagerly endeavoured to make himself fit to appear before God, being pure in heart and ever ready to submit to His counsel, and to Him alone. And he used to say to himself that from the life of the great Elias the hermit ought to see his own as in a mirror.

8. Thus tightening his hold upon himself, Antony departed to the tombs, which happened to be at a distance from the village; and having bid one of his acquaintances to bring him bread at intervals of many days, he entered one of the tombs, and the other having shut the door on him, he remained within alone. And when the enemy could not endure it. but was even fearful that in a short time Antony would fill the desert with the discipline, coming one night with a multitude of demons, he so cut him with stripes that he lay on the ground speechless from the excessive pain. For he affirmed that the torture had been so excessive that no blows inflicted by man could ever have caused him such torment. But by the Providence of God--for the Lord never overlooks them that hope in Him--the next day his acquaintance came bringing him the loaves. And having opened the door and seeing him lying on the ground as though dead, he lifted him up and carried him to the church in the village, and laid him upon the ground. And many of his kinsfolk and the villagers sat around Antony as round a corpse. But about midnight he came to himself and arose, and when he saw them all asleep and his comrade alone watching, he motioned with his head for him to approach, and asked him to carry him again to the tombs without waking anybody.

9. He was carried therefore by the man, and as he was wont, when the door was shut he was within alone. And he could not stand up on account of the blows, but he prayed as he lay. And after he had prayed, he said with a shout, Here am I, Antony; I flee not from your stripes, for even if you inflict more nothing shall separate rues from the love of Christ. And then he sang, 'though a camp be set against me, my heart shall not be afraid [6].' These were the thoughts and words of this ascetic. But the enemy, who hates good, marvelling that after the blows he dared to return, called together his hounds and burst forth, 'Ye see,' said he, 'that neither by the spirit of lust nor by blows did we stay the man, but that he braves us, let us attack him in another fashion.' But changes of form for evil are easy for the devil, so in the night they made such a din that the whole of that place seemed to be shaken by an earthquake, and the demons as if breaking the four walls of the dwelling seemed to enter through them, coming in the likeness of beasts and creeping things. And the place was on a sudden filled with the forms of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, serpents, asps, scorpions, and wolves, and each of them was moving according to his nature. The lion was roaring, wishing to attack, the bull seeming to toss with its horns, the serpent writhing but unable to approach, and the wolf as it rushed on was restrained; altogether the noises of the apparitions, with their angry ragings, were dreadful. But Antony, stricken and goaded by them, felt bodily pains severer still. He lay watching, however, with unshaken soul, groaning from bodily anguish; but his mind was clear, and as in mockery he said, 'If there had been any power in you, it would have sufficed had one of you come, but since the Lord hath made you weak you attempt to terrify me by numbers: and a proof of your weakness is that you take the shapes of brute beasts.' And again with boldness he said, 'If you are able, and have received power against me, delay not to attack; but if you are unable, why trouble me in vain ? For faith in our Lord is a seal and a wall of safety to us.' So after many attempts they gnashed their teeth upon him, because they were mocking themselves rather than him.

10. Nor was the Lord then forgetful of Antony's wrestling, but was at hand to help him. So looking up he saw the roof as it were opened, and a ray of light descending to him. The demons suddenly vanished, the pain of his body straightway ceased, and the building was again whole. But Antony feeling the help, and getting his breath again, and being freed from pain, besought the vision which had appeared to him, saying, 'Where wert thou ? Why didst thou not appear at the beginning to make my pains to cease?' And a voice came to him, 'Antony, I was here, but I waited to see thy fight; wherefore since thou hast endured, and hast not been worsted, I will ever be a succour to thee, and will make thy name known everywhere.' Having heard this, Antony arose and prayed, and received such strength that he perceived that he had more power in his body than formerly.And he was then about thirty-five years old.

11. And on the day following he went forth still more eagerly bent on the service of God and having fallen in with the old man he had met previously, he asked him to dwell with him in the desert. But when the other declined on account of his great age, and because as yet there was no such custom, Antony himself set off forthwith to the mountain. And yet again the enemy seeing his zeal and wishing to hinder it, east in his way what seemed to be a great silver dish. But Antony, seeing the guile of the Evil One, stood, and having looked on the dish, he put the devil in it to shame, saying, 'Whence comes a dish in the desert ? This road is not well-worn, nor is there here a trace of any wayfarer; it could not have fallen without being missed on account of its size; and he who had lost it having turned back, to seek it, would have found it, for it is a desert place. This is some wile of the devil. O thou Evil One, not with this shalt thou hinder my purpose; let it go with thee to destruction. [3]' And when Antony had said this it vanished like smoke from the face of fire.

12. Then again as he went on he saw what was this time not visionary, but real gold scattered in the way. But whether the devil showed it, or some better power to try the athlete and show the Evil One that Antony truly cared nought for money, neither he told nor do we know. But it is certain that that which appeared was gold. And Antony marvelled at the quantity, but passed it by as though he were going over fire; so he did not even turn, but hurried on at a run to lose sight of the place. More and more confirmed in his purpose, he hurried to the mountain, and having found a fort, so long deserted that it was full of creeping things, on the other side of the river; he crossed over to it and dwelt there. The reptiles, as though some one were chasing them, immediately left the place. But he built up the entrance completely, having stored up loaves for six months--this is a custom of the Thebans, and the loaves often remain fresh a whole year--and as he found water within, he descended as into a shrine, and abode within by himself, never going forth nor looking at any one who came. Thus he employed a long time training himself, and received loaves, let down from above, twice in the year.

13. But those of his acquaintances who came, since he did not permit them to enter, often used to spend days and nights outside, and heard as it were crowds within clamouring, dinning, sending forth piteous voices and crying, 'Go from what is ours. What dost thou even in the desert? Thou canst not abide our attack.' So at first those outside thought there were some men fighting with him, and that they had entered by ladders; but when stooping down they saw through a hole there was nobody, they were afraid, accounting them to be demons, and they called on Antony. Them he quickly heard, though he had not given a thought to the demons, and coming to the door he besought them to depart and not to be afraid, 'for thus,' said he, 'the demons make their seeming onslaughts against those who are cowardly. Sign yourselves therefore with the cross [4], and depart boldly, and let these make sport for themselves.' So they departed fortified with the sign of the Cross. But he remained in no wise harmed by the evil spirits, nor was he wearied with the contest, for there came to his aid visions from above, and the weakness of the foe relieved him of much trouble and armed him with greater zeal. For his acquaintances used often to come expecting to find him dead, and would hear him singing [5], ' Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered, let them also that hate Him flee before His face. As smoke vanisheth, let them vanish; as wax melteth before the face of fire, so let the sinners perish from the face of God ;' and again, 'All nations compassed me about, and in the name of the Lord I requited them [6].' 14. And so for nearly twenty years he continued training himself in solitude, never going forth, and but seldom seen by any. After this when many were eager and wishful to imitate his discipline, and his acquaintances came and began to cast down and wrench off the door by force, Antony, as from a shrine, came forth initiated in the mysteries and filled with the Spirit of God. Then for the first time he was seen outside the fort by those who came to see him. And they, when they saw him, wondered at the sight, for he had the same habit of body as before, and was neither fat, like a man without exercise, nor lean from fasting and striving with the demons, but he was just the same as they had known him before his retirement, And again his soul was free from blemish, for it was neither contracted as if by grief, nor relaxed by pleasure, nor possessed by laughter or dejection, for he was not troubled when he beheld the crowd, nor overjoyed at being saluted by so many. But he was altogether even as being guided by reason, and abiding in a natural state. Through him the Lord healed the bodily ailments of many present, and cleansed others from evil spirits. And He gave grace to Antony in speaking, so that he consoled many that were sorrowful, and set those at variance at one, exhorting all to prefer the love of Christ before all that is in the world. And while he exhorted and advised them to remember the good things to come, and the loving-kindness of God towards us, 'Who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all [7],' he persuaded many to embrace the solitary life. And thus it happened in the end that cells arose even in the mountains, and the desert was colonised by monks, who came forth from their own people, and enrolled themselves for the citizenship in the heavens.

15. But when he was obliged to cross the Arsenoitic Canal [8]--and the occasion of it was the visitation of the brethren--the canal was full of crocodiles. And by simply praying, he entered it, and all they with him, and passed over in safety. And having returned to his cell, he applied himself to the same noble and valiant exercises; and by frequent conversation he increased the eagerness of those already monks, stirred up in most of the rest the love of the discipline, and speedily by the attraction of his words. cells multiplied, and he directed them all as a father. 16. One day when he had gone forth because all the monks had assembled to him and asked to hear words from him, he spoke to them in the Egyptian tongue as follows: 'The Scriptures are enough for instruction 9, but it is a good thing to encourage one another in the faith, and to stir up with words. Wherefore you, as children, carry that which you know to your father; and I as the elder share my knowledge and what experience has taught me with you. Let this especially be the common aim of all, neither to give way having once begun, nor to faint in trouble, nor to say: We have lived in the discipline a long time: but rather as though making a beginning daily let us increase our earnestness. For the whole life of man is very short, measured by the ages to come, wherefore all our time is nothing compared with eternal life. And in the world everything is sold at its price, and a man exchanges one equivalent for another; but the promise of eternal life is bought for a trifle. For it is written, "The days of our life in them are threescore years and ten, but if they are in strength, fourscore years, and what is more than these is labour and sorrow [10]. "Whenever, therefore, we live full fourscore years, or even a hundred in the discipline, not for a hundred years only shall we reign, but instead of a hundred we shall reign for ever and ever. And though we fought on earth, we shall not receive our inheritance on earth, but we have the promises in heaven; and having put off the body which is corrupt, we shall receive it incorrupt.

17. ' Wherefore, children, let us not faint nor deem that the time is long, or that we are doing something great, "for the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to us-ward [11]" Nor let us think, as we look at the world, that we have renounced anything of much consequence, for the whole earth is very small compared with all the heaven. Wherefore if it even chanced that we were lords of all the earth and gave it all up, it would be nought worthy of comparison with the kingdom of heaven. For as if a man should despise a copper drachma to gain a hundred drachmas of gold; so if a man were lord of all the earth and were to renounce it, that which he gives up is little, and he receives a hundredfold. But if not even the whole earth is equal in value to the heavens, then he who has given up a few acres leaves as it were nothing; and even if he have given up a house or much gold he ought not to boast nor be low-spirited. Further, we should consider that even if we do not relinquish them for virtue's sake, still afterwards when we die we shall leave them behind--very often, as the Preacher saith [12], to those to whom we do not wish. Why then should we not give them up for virtue's sake, that we may inherit even a kingdom? Therefore let the desire of possession take hold of no one, for what gain is it to acquire these things which we cannot take with us? Why not rather get those things which we can take away with us--to wit, prudence, justice, temperance, courage, understanding, love, kindness to the poor, faith in Christ, freedom from wrath, hospitality? If we possess these, we shall find them of themselves preparing for us a welcome there in the land of the meek-hearted.

18. 'And so from such things let a man persuade himself not to make light of it, especially if he considers that he himself is the servant of the Lord, and ought to serve his Master. Wherefore as a servant would not dare to say, because I worked yesterday, I will not work today; and considering the past will do no work in the future; but, as it is written in the Gospel, daily shows the same readiness to please his master, and to avoid risk: so let us daily abide firm in our discipline, knowing that if we are careless for a single day the Lord will not pardon us, for the sake of the past, but will be wrath against us for our neglect. As also we have heard in Ezekiel [13]; and as Judas because of one night destroyed his previous labour.

19. 'Wherefore, children, let us hold fast our discipline, and let us not be careless. For in it the Lord is our fellow-worker, as it is written, "to all that choose the good, God worketh with them for good [14]." But to avoid being heedless, it is good to consider the word of the Apostle, "I die daily. [15].'' For if we too live as though dying daily, we shall not sin. And the meaning of that saying is, that as we rise day by day we should think that we shall not abide till evening; and again, when about to lie down to sleep, we should think that we shall not rise up. For our life is naturally uncertain, and Providence allots it to us daily. But thus ordering our daily life, we shall neither fall into sin, nor have a lust for anything, nor cherish wrath against any, nor shall we heap up treasure upon earth. But, as though under the daily expectation of death, we shall be without wealth, and shall forgive all things to all men, nor shall we retain at all the desire of women or of any other foul pleasure. But we shall turn from it as past and gone, ever striving and looking forward to the day of Judgment. For the greater dread and danger of torment ever destroys the ease of pleasure, and sets up the soul if it is like to fall.

20. 'Wherefore having already begun and set out in the way of virtue, let us strive the more that we may attain those things that are before. And let no one turn to the things behind, like Lot's wife, all the more so that the Lord hath said, "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and turning back, is fit for the kingdom of heavens [16]." And this turning back is nought else but to feel regret, and to be once more worldly-minded. But fear not to hear of virtue, nor be astonished at the name. For it is not far from us, nor is it without ourselves, but it is within us, and is easy if only we are willing. That they may get knowledge, the Greeks live abroad and cross the sea, but we have no need to depart from home for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, nor to cross the sea for the sake of virtue. For the Lord aforetime hath said, "The kingdom of heaven is within you [17].'' Wherefore virtue hath need at our hands of willingness alone, since it is in us and is formed from us. For when the soul hath its spiritual faculty in a natural state virtue is formed. And it is in a natural state when it remains as it came into existence. And when it came into existence it was fair and exceeding honest. For this cause Joshua, the son of Nun, in his exhortation said to the people," Make straight your heart unto the Lord God of Israel [18]," and John, "Make your paths straight [19]." For rectitude of soul consists in its having its spiritual part in its natural state as created. But on the other hand, when it swerves and turns away from its natural state, that is called vice of the soul Thus the matter is not difficult. If we abide as we have been made, we are in a state of virtue, but if we think of ignoble things we shall be accounted evil. If, therefore, this thing had to be acquired from without, it would be difficult in reality; but if it is in us, let us keep ourselves from foul thoughts. And as we have received the soul as a deposit, let us preserve it for the Lord, that He may recognise His work as being the same as He made it.

21. 'And let us strive that wrath rule us not nor lust overcome us, for it is written, "The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. And lust, when it hath conceived, beareth sin, and the sin when it is full grown bringeth forth death [20].'' Thus living, let us keep guard carefully, and as it is written, "keep our hearts with all watchfulness [1]." For we have terrible and crafty foes--the evil spirits--and against them we wrestle, as the Apostle said," Not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places [1a]." Great is their number in the air around us", and they are not far from us. Now there are great distinctions among them; and concerning their nature and distinctions much could be said, but such a description is for others of greater powers than we possess. But at this time it is pressing and necessary for us only to know their wiles against ourselves. 22. 'First, therefore, we must know this: that the demons have not been created like what we mean when we call them by that name for God made nothing evil, but even they have been made good. Having fallen, however, from the heavenly wisdom, since then they have been grovelling on earth. On the one hand they deceived the Greeks with their displays, while out of envy of us Christians they move all things in their desire to hinder us from entry into the heavens; in order that we should not ascend up thither from whence they fell. Thus there is need of much prayer and of discipline, that when a man has received through the Spirit the gift of discerning spirits, he may have power to recognise their characteristics: which of them are less and which more evil; of what nature is the special pursuit of each, and how each of them is overthrown and cast out. For their villainies and the changes in their plots are many. The blessed Apostle and his followers knew such things when they said, "for we are not ignorant of his devices [3];" and we, from the temptations we have suffered at their hands, ought to correct one another under them. Wherefore I, having had proof of them, speak as to children.

23. 'The demons, therefore, if they see all Christians, and monks especially, labouring cheerfully and advancing, first make an attack by temptation and place hindrances to hamper our way, to wit, evil thoughts. But we need not fear their suggestions, for by prayer, fasting, and faith in the Lord their attack immediately fails. But even when it does they cease not, but knavishly by subtlety come on again. For when they cannot deceive the heart openly with foul pleasures they approach in different guise, and thenceforth shaping displays they attempt to strike fear, changing their shapes, taking the forms of women, wild beasts, creeping things, gigantic bodies, and troops of soldiers. But not even then need ye fear their deceitful displays. For they are nothing and quickly disappear, especially if a man fortify himself beforehand with faith and the sign of the cross [4]. Yet are they bold and very shameless, for if thus they are worsted they make an onslaught in another manner, and pretend to prophesy and foretell the future, and to shew themselves of a height reaching to the roof and of great breadth; that they may stealthily catch by such displays those who could not be deceived by their arguments. If here also they find the soul strengthened by faith and a hopeful mind, then they bring their leader to their aid.

24. 'And he said they often appeared as the Lord revealed the devil to Job, saying, "His eyes are as the morning star. From his mouth proceed burning lamps and hearths of fire are east forth. The smoke of a furnace blazing with the fire of coals proceeds from his nostrils. His breath is coals and from his mouth issues flames." When the prince of the demons appears in this wise, the crafty one, as I said before, strikes terror by speaking great things, as again the Lord convicted him saying to Job, for "he counteth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood, yea he counteth the sea as a pot of ointment, and the depth of the abyss as a captive, and the abyss as a covered walk [6]." And by the prophet, "the enemy said, I will pursue and overtake [7]," and again by another, "I will grasp the whole world in my hand as a nest, and take it up as eggs that have been left [8]." Such, in a word, are their boasts and professions that they may deceive the godly. But not even then ought we, the faithful, to fear his appearance or give heed to his words. For he is a liar and speaketh of truth never a word. And though speaking words so many and so great in his boldness, without doubt, like a dragon he was drawn with a hook by the Saviour [9], and as a beast of burden he received the halter round his nostrils, and as a runaway his nostrils were bound with a ring, and his lips bored with an armlet [10]. And he was bound by the Lord as a sparrow, that we should mock him. And with him are placed the demons his fellows, like serpents and scorpions to be trodden underfoot by us Christians. And the proof of this is that we now live opposed to him. For he who threatened to dry the sea and seize upon the world, behold now cannot stay our discipline, nor even me speaking against him. Let us then heed not his words, for he is a liar: and let us not fear his visions, seeing that they themselves are deceptive. For that which appears in them is no true light, but they are rather the preludes and likenesses of the fire prepared for the demons who attempt to terrify men with those flames in which they themselves will be burned. Doubtless they appear; but in a moment disappear again, hurting none of the faithful, but bringing with them the likeness of that fire which is about to receive themselves. Wherefore it is unfitting that we should fear them on account of these things; for through the grace of Christ all their practices are in vain.

25. 'Again they are treacherous, and are ready to change themselves into all forms and assume all appearances. Very often also without appearing they imitate the music of harp and voice, and recall the words of Scripture. Sometimes, too, while we are reading they immediately repeat many times, like an echo, what is read. They arouse us from our sleep to prayers; and this constantly, hardly allowing us to sleep at all. At another time they assume the appearance of monks and feign the speech of holy men, that by their similarity they may deceive and thus drag their victims where they will. But no heed must be paid them even if they arouse to prayer, even if they counsel us not to eat at all even though they seem to accuse and cast shame upon us for those things which once they allowed. For they do this not for the sake of piety or truth, but that they may carry off the simple to despair; and that they may say the discipline is useless, and make men loathe the solitary life as a trouble and burden, and hinder those who in spite of them walk in it.

26. 'Wherefore the prophet sent by the Lord declared them to be wretched, saying: "Wo is he who giveth his neighbours to drink muddy destruction [11]." For such practices and devices are subversive of the way which leads to virtue. And the Lord Himself, even if the demons spoke the truth,--for they said truly "Thou art the Son of God [12]" --still bridled their mouths and suffered them not to speak lest haply they should sow their evil along with the truth, and that He might accustom us never to give heed to them even though they appear to speak what is true. For it is unseemly that we, having the holy Scriptures and freedom from the Saviour, should be taught by the devil who hath not kept his own order but hath gone from one mind to another [13]. Wherefore even when he uses the language of Scripture He forbids him, saying: "But to the sinner said God, Wherefore dost thou declare My ordinances and takest My covenant in thy mouth [14]?" For the demons do all things --they prate, they confuse, they dissemble, they confound--to deceive the simple. They din, laugh madly, and whistle; but if no heed is paid to them forthwith they weep and lament as though vanquished.

27. 'The Lord therefore, as God, stayed the mouths of the demons: and it is fitting that we, taught by the saints, should do like them and imitate their courage. For they when they saw these things used to say: "When the sinner rose against me, I was dumb and humble, and kept silence from good words [15]." And again: "But I was as a deaf man and heard not, and as a dumb man who openeth not his mouth, and I became as a man who heareth not [16].'' So let us neither hear them as being strangers to us, nor give heed to them even through they arouse us to prayer and speak concerning fasting. But let us rather apply ourselves to our resolve of discipline, and let us not be deceived by them who do all things in deceit, even though they threaten death. For they are weak and can do nought but threaten. 28. 'Already in passing I have spoken on these things, and now I must not shrink from speaking on them at greater length, for to put you in remembrance will be a source of safety. Since the Lord visited earth [17], the enemy is fallen and his powers weakened. Wherefore although he could do nothing, still like a tyrant, he did not bear his fall quietly, but threatened, though his threats were words only. And let each one of you consider this, and he will be able to despise the demons. Now if they were hampered with such bodies as we are, it would be possible for them to say, "Men when they are hidden we cannot find, but whenever we do find them we do them hurt." And we also by lying in concealment could escape them, shutting the doors against them. But if they are not of such a nature as this, but are able to enter in, though the doors be shut, and haunt all the air, both they and their leader the devil, and are wishful for evil and ready to injure; and, as the Saviour said, "From the beginning the devil is a manslayer and a father of vice [18];" while we, though this is so, are alive, and spend our lives all the more in opposing him; it is plain they are powerless. For place is no hindrance to their plots, nor do they look on us as friends that they should spare us; nor are they lovers of good that they should amend. But on the contrary they are evil, and nothing is so much sought after by them as wounding them that love virtue and fear God. But since they have no power to effect anything, they do nought but threaten. But if they could, they would not hesitate, but forthwith work evil (for all their desire is set on this), and especially against us. Behold now we are gathered together and speak against them, and they know when we advance they grow weak. If therefore they had power they would permit none of us Christians to live, for godliness is an abomination to a sinner [19]. But since they can do nothing they inflict the greater wounds on themselves; for they can fulfil none of their threats. Next this ought to be considered, that we may be in no fear of them: that if they had the power they would not come in crowds, nor fashion displays, nor with change of form would they frame deceits. But it would suffice that one only should come and accomplish that which he was both able and willing to do: especially as every one who has the power neither slays with display nor strikes fear with tumult, but forthwith makes full use of his authority as he wishes. But the demons as they have no power are like actors on the stage changing their shape and frightening children with tumultuous apparition and various forms: from which they ought rather to be despised as shewing their weakness. At least the true angel of the Lord sent against the Assyrian had no need for tumults nor displays from without, nor noises nor rattlings, but in quiet he used his power and forthwith destroyed a hundred and eighty-five thousand. But demons like these, who have no power, try to terrify at least by their displays [20].

29. 'But if any one having in mind the history of Job [1] should say, Why then hath the devil gone forth and accomplished all things against him; and stripped him of all his possessions, and slew his children, and smote him with evil ulcers? let such a one, on the other hand, recognise that the devil was not the strong man, but God who delivered Job to him to be tried. Certainly he had no power to do anything, but he asked, and having received it, he hath wrought what he did. So also from this the enemy is the more to be condemned, for although willing he could not prevail against one just man. For if he could have, he would not have asked permission. But having asked not once but also a second time, he shows his weakness and want of power. And it is no wonder if he could do nothing against Job, when destruction would not have come even on his cattle had not God allowed it. And he has not the power over swine, for as it is written in the Gospel, they besought the Lord, saying, "Let us enter the swine [2]." But if they had power not even against swine, much less have they any over men formed [3] in the image of God.

30. 'So then we ought to fear God only, and despise the demons, and be in no fear of them. But the more they do these things the more let us intensify our discipline against them, for a good life and faith in God is a great weapon. At any rate they fear the fasting, the sleeplessness, the prayers, the meekness, the quietness, the contempt of money and vainglory, the humility, the love of the poor, the alms, the freedom from anger of the ascetics, and, chief of all, their piety towards Christ. Wherefore they do all things that they may not have any that trample on them, knowing the grace given to the faithful against them by the Saviour, when He says, "Behold I have given to you power to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and upon all the power of the enemy [4]."

31. 'Wherefore if they pretend to foretell the future, let no one give heed, for often they announce beforehand that the brethren are coming days after. And they do come. The demons, however, do this not from any care for the hearers, but to gain their trust, and that then at length, having got them in their power, they may destroy them. Whence we must give no heed to them, but ought rather to confute them when speaking, since we do not need them. For what wonder is it, if with more subtle bodies than men haves, when they have seen them start on their journey, they surpass them in speed, and announce their coming? Just as a horseman getting a start of a man on foot announces the arrival of the latter beforehand, so in this there is no need for us to wonder at them. For they know none of those things which are not yet in existence; but God only is He who knoweth all things before their birth [6]. But these, like thieves, running off first with what they see, proclaim it: to how many already have they announced our business--that we are assembled together, and discuss measures against them, before any one of us could go and tell these things. This in good truth a fleet-footed boy could do, getting far ahead of one less swift. But what I mean is this. If any one begins to walk from the Thebaid, or from any other district, before he begins to walk, they do not know whether he will walk. But when they have seen him walking they run on, and before he comes up report his approach. And so it falls out that after a few days the travellers arrive. But often the walkers turn back, and the demons prove false. 35. 'So, too, with respect to the water of the river, they sometimes make foolish statements, For having seen that there has been much rain in the regions of Ethiopia, and knowing that they are the cause of the flood of the river before the water has come to Egypt they run on and announce it. And this men could have told, if they had as great power of running as the demons. And as David's spy [7] going up to a lofty place saw the man approaching better than one who stayed down below, and the forerunner himself announced, before the others came up, not those things which had not taken place, but those things which were already on the way and were being accomplished, so these also prefer to labour, and declare what is happening to others simply for the sake of deceiving them. If, however, Providence meantime plans anything different for the waters or wayfarers--for Providence can do this--the demons are deceived, and those who gave heed to them cheated. 33. 'Thus in days gone by arose the oracles of the Greeks, and thus they were led astray by the demons. But thus also thenceforth their deception was brought to an end by the coming of the Lord [8], who brought to nought the demons and their devices. For they know nothing of themselves, but, like thieves, what they get to know from others they pass on, and guess at rather than foretell things. Therefore if sometimes they speak the truth, let no one marvel at them for this. For experienced physicians also, since they see the same malady in different people, often foretell what it is, making it out by their acquaintance with it. Pilots, too, and farmers, from their familiarity with the weather, tell at a glance the state of the atmosphere, and forecast whether it will be stormy or fine. And no one would say that they do this by inspiration, but from experience and practice. So if the demons sometimes do the same by guesswork, let no one wonder at it or heed them. For what use to the hearers is it to know from them what is going to happen before the time? Or what concern have we to know such things, even if the knowledge be true? For it is not productive of virtue, nor is it any token of goodness. For none of us is judged for what he knows not, and no one is called blessed because he hath learning and knowledge. But each one will be called to judgment in these points--whether he have kept the faith and truly observed the commandments.

34. 'Wherefore there is no need to set much value on these things, nor for the sake of them to practise a life of discipline and labour; but that living well we may please God. And we neither ought to pray to know the future, nor to ask for it as the reward of our discipline; but our prayer should be that the Lord may be our fellow-helper for victory over the devil. And if even once we have a desire to know the future, let us be pure in mind, for I believe that if a soul is perfectly pure and in its natural state, it is able [9], being clear-sighted, to see more and further than the demons--for it has the Lord who reveals to it--like the soul of Elisha, which saw what was done [10] by Gehazi, and beheld the hosts [11] standing on its side.

35. 'When, therefore, they come by night to you and wish to tell the future, or say, "we are the angels," give no heed, for they lie. Yea even if they praise your discipline and call you blessed, hear them not, and have no dealings with them; but rather sign yourselves and your houses, and pray, and you shall see them vanish. For they are cowards, and greatly fear the sign of the Lord's Cross, since of a truth in it the Saviour stripped them, and made an example of them [11a]. But if they shamelessly stand their ground, capering and changing their forms of appearance, fear them not, nor shrink, nor heed them as though they were good spirits. For the presence either of the good or evil by the help of God can easily be distinguished. The vision of the holy ones is not fraught with distraction: "For they will not strive, nor cry, nor shall any one hear their voice [12]." But it comes so quietly and gently that immediately joy, gladness and courage arise in the soul. For the Lord who is our joy is with them, and the power of God the Father. And the thoughts of the soul remain unruffled and undisturbed, so that it, enlightened as it were with rays, beholds by itself those who appear. For the love of what is divine and of the things to come possesses it, and willingly it would be wholly joined with them if it could depart along with them. But if, being men, some fear the vision of the good, those who appear immediately take fear away; as Gabriel [13] did in the case of Zacharias, and as the angel [14] did who appeared to the women at the holy sepulchre, and as He did who said to the shepherds in the Gospel, "Fear not." For their fear arose not from timidity, but from the recognition of the presence of superior beings. Such then is the nature of the visions of the holy ones.

36. 'But the inroad and the display of the evil spirits is fraught with confusion, with din, with sounds and cryings such as the disturbance of boorish youths or robbers would occasion. From which arise fear in the heart, tumult and confusion of thought, dejection, hatred towards them who live a life of discipline, indifference, grief, remembrance of kinsfolk and fear of death, and finally desire of evil things, disregard of virtue and unsettled habits. Whenever, therefore, ye have seen ought and are afraid, if your fear is immediately taken away and in place of it comes joy unspeakable, cheerfulness, courage, renewed strength, calmness of thought and all those I named before boldness and love toward God,--take courage and pray. For joy and a settled state of soul show the holiness of him who is present. Thus Abraham beholding the Lord rejoiced [14]; so also John [15] at the voice of Mary, the God-bearer [16], leaped for gladness. But if at the appearance of any there is confusion, knocking without, worldly display, threats of death and the other things which I have already mentioned, know ye that it is an onslaught of evil spirits.

37. 'And let this also be a token for you: whenever the soul remains fearful there is a presence of the enemies. For the demons do not take away the fear of their presence as the great archangel Gabriel did for Mary and Zacharias, and as he did who appeared to the women at the tomb; but rather whenever they see men afraid they increase their delusions that men may be terrified the more; and at last attacking they mock them, saying, "fall down and worship." Thus they deceived the Greeks, and thus by them they were considered gods, falsely so called. But the Lord did not suffer us to be deceived by the devil, for He rebuked him whenever he framed such delusions against Him, saying: "Get behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve [17]." More and more, therefore, let the deceiver be despised by us; for what the Lord hath said, this for our sakes He hath done: that the demons hearing like words from us may be put to flight through the Lord who rebuked them in those words.

38. 'And it is not fitting to boast at the casting forth of the demons, nor to be uplifted by the healing of diseases: nor is it fitting that he who casts out devils should alone be highly esteemed, while he who casts them not out should be considered nought. But let a man learn the discipline of each one and either imitate, rival, or correct it. For the working of signs is not ours but the Saviour's work: and so He said to His disciples: "Rejoice not that the demons are subject to you, but that your names are written in the heavens [18]." For the fact that our names are written in heaven is a proof of our virtuous life, but to cast out demons is a favour of the Saviour who granted it. Wherefore to those who boasted in signs but not in virtue, and said: "Lord, in Thy name did we not cast out demons, and in Thy name did many mighty works [19]?" He answered, "Verily I say unto you, I know you not;" for the Lord knoweth not the ways of the wicked. But we ought always to pray, as I said above, that we may receive the gift of discerning spirits; that, as it is written [20], we may not believe every spirit.

39. 'I should have liked to speak no further and to say nothing from my own promptings, satisfied with what I have said: but lest you should think that I speak at random and believe that I detail these things without experience or truth; for this cause even though I should become as a fool, yet the Lord who heareth knoweth the clearness of my con science, and that it is not for my own sake, but on account of your affection towards me and at your petition that I again tell what I saw of the practices of evil spirits. How often have they called me blessed and I have cursed them in the name of the Lord! How often have they predicted the rising of the river, and I answered them, "What have you to do with it?" Once they came threatening and surrounded me like soldiers in full armour. At another time they filled the house with horses, wild beasts and creeping things, and I sang: "Some in chariots and some in horses, but we will boast in the name of the Lord our God [1];" and at the prayers they were turned to flight by the Lord. Once they came in darkness, bearing the appearance of a light, and said, "We are come to give thee a light, Antony." But I closed my eyes and prayed, and immediately the light of the wicked ones was quenched. And a few months after they came as though singing psalms and babbling the words of Scripture, "But I like a deaf man, heard not [2]." Once they shook the cell [3] with an earthquake, but I continued praying with unshaken heart. And after this they came again making noises, whistling and dancing. But as I prayed and lay singing psalms to myself they forthwith began to lament and weep, as if their strength had failed them. But I gave glory to the Lord who had brought down and made an example of their daring and madness.

40. 'Once a demon exceeding high appeared with pomp, and dared to say, "I am the power of God and I am Providence, what dost thou wish that I shall give thee?" But I then so much the more breathed upon him [3a], and spoke the name of Christ, and set about to smite him. And I seemed to have smitten him, and forthwith he, big as he was, together with all his demons, disappeared at the name of Christ. At another time, while I was fasting, he came full of craft, under the semblance of a monk, with what seemed to be loaves, and gave me counsel, saying, "Eat and cease from thy many labours. Thou also art a man and art like to fall sick." But I, perceiving his device, rose up to pray; and he endured it not, for he departed, and through the door there seemed to go out as it were smoke. How often in the desert has he displayed what resembled gold, that I should only touch it and look on it. But I sang psalms against him, and he vanished away. Often they would beat me with stripes, and I repeated again and again, "Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ [4]," and at this they rather fell to beating one another. Nor was it I that stayed them and destroyed their power, but it was the Lord, who said, "I beheld Satan as lightning fall from Heavens; [5]" but I, children, mindful of the Apostle's words, transferred [6] this to myself, that you might learn not to faint in discipline, nor to fear the devil nor the delusions of the demons.

41. 'And since I have become a fool in detailing these things, receive this also as an aid to your safety and fearlessness; and believe me for I do not lie. Once some one knocked at the door of my cell, and going forth I saw one who seemed of great size and tall. Then when I enquired, "Who art thou?" he said, "I am Satan." Then when I said, "Why art thou here?" he answered, "Why do the monks and all other Christians blame me undeservedly? Why do they curse me hourly?" Then I answered, "Wherefore dost thou trouble them?" He said, "I am not he who troubles them, but they trouble themselves, for I am become weak. Have they not read [7], "The swords of the enemy have come to an end, and thou hast destroyed the cities ?" I have no longer a place, a weapon, a city. The Christians are spread everywhere, and at length even the desert is filled with monks. Let them take heed to themselves, and let them not curse me unreservedly." Then I marvelled at the grace of the Lord, and said to him: "Thou who art ever a liar and never speakest the truth, this at length, even against thy will, thou hast truly spoken. For the coming of Christ hath made thee weak, and He hath cast thee down and stripped thee." But he having heard the Saviour's name, and not being able to bear the burning from it, vanished.

42. 'If, therefore, the devil himself confesses that his power is gone, we ought utterly to despise both him and his demons; and since the enemy with his hounds has but devices of this sort, we, having got to know their weakness, are able to despise them. Wherefore let us not despond after this fashion, nor let us have a thought of cowardice in our heart, nor frame fears for ourselves, saying, I am afraid lest a demon should come and overthrow me; lest he should lift me up and cast me down; or lest rising against me on a sudden he confound me. Such thoughts let us not have in mind at all, nor let us be sorrowful as though we were perishing; but rather let us be courageous and rejoice always, believing that we are safe Let us consider in our soul that the Lord is with us, who put the evil spirits to flight and broke their power. Let us consider and lay to heart that while the Lord is with us, our foes can do us no hurt. For when they come they approach us in a form corresponding to the state in which they discover us [8], and adapt their delusions to the condition of mind in which they find us. If, therefore, they find us timid and confused, they forthwith beset the place, like robbers, having found it unguarded; and what we of ourselves are thinking, they do, and more also. For if they find us faint-hearted and cowardly, they mightily increase our terror, by their delusions and threats; and with these the unhappy soul is thenceforth tormented. But if they see us rejoicing in the Lord, contemplating the bliss of the future, mindful of the Lord, deeming all things in His hand, and that no evil spirit has any strength against the Christian, nor any power at all over any one--when they behold the soul fortified with these thoughts--they are discomfited and turned backwards. Thus the enemy, seeing Job fenced round with them, withdrew from him; but finding Judas unguarded, him he took captive. Thus if we are wishful to despise the enemy, let us ever ponder over the things of the Lord, and let the soul ever rejoice in hope. And we shall see the snares of the demon are like smoke, and the evil ones themselves flee rather than pursue For they are, as I said before, exceeding fearful, ever looking forward to the fire prepared for them.

43. 'And for your fearlessness against them hold this sure sign--whenever there is any apparition, be not prostrate with fear, but whatsoever it be, first boldly ask, Who art thou? And from whence comest thou? And if it should be a vision of holy ones they will assure you, and change your fear into joy. But if the vision should be from the devil, immediately it becomes feeble, beholding your firm purpose of mind. For merely to ask, Who art thou [9]? and whence comest thou? is a proof of coolness. By thus asking, the son of Nun learned who his helper was; nor did the enemy escape the questioning of Daniel [10].'

44. While Antony was thus speaking all rejoiced; in some the love of virtue increased, in others carelessness was thrown aside, the self-conceit of others was stopped; and all were persuaded to despise the assaults of the Evil One, and marvelled at the grace given to Antony from the Lord for the discerning of spirits. So their cells were in the mountains, like filled with holy bands of men who sang psalms, loved reading, fasted, prayed, rejoiced in the hope of things to come, laboured in alms-giving, and preserved love and harmony one with another. And truly it was possible, as it were, to behold a land set by itself, filled with piety and justice. For then there was neither the evil-doer, nor the injured, nor the reproaches of the tax-gatherer: but instead a multitude of ascetics; and the one purpose of them all was to aim at virtue. So that any one beholding the cells again, and seeing such good order among the monks, would lift up his voice and say, 'How goodly are thy dwellings, O Jacob, and thy tents, O Israel; as shady glens and as a garden [11] by a river; as tents which the Lord hath pitched, and like cedars near waters [12].'

45. Antony, however, according to his custom, returned alone to his own cell increased his discipline, and sighed daily as he thought of the mansions in Heaven, having his desire fixed on them, and pondering over the shortness of man's life. And he used to eat and sleep, and go about all other bodily necessities with shame when he thought of the spiritual faculties of the soul. So often, when about to eat with any other hermits, recollecting the spiritual food, he begged to be excused, and departed far off from them, deeming it a matter for shame if he should be seen eating by others. He used, however, when by himself, to eat through bodily necessity, but often also with the brethren; covered with shame on these occasions, yet speaking boldly words of help. And he used to say that it behoved a man to give all his time to his soul rather than his body, yet to grant a short space to the body through its necessities; but all the more earnestly to give up the whole remainder to the soul and seek its profit, that it might not be dragged down by the pleasures of the body, but, on the contrary, the body might be in subjection to the soul. For this is that which was spoken by the Saviour: 'Be not anxious for your life what ye shall eat, nor for your body what ye shall put on. And do ye seek not what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, and be not of a doubtful mind. For all these things the nations of the world seek after. But your Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. Howbeit seek ye first His Kingdom, and all these things shall be added unto you [13].'

46. After this the Church was seized by the persecution which then [14] took place under Maximinus, and when the holy martyrs were led to Alexandria, Antony also followed, leaving his cell, and saying, Let us go too, that if called, we may contend or behold them that are contending. And he longed to suffer martyrdom, but not being willing to give himself up, he ministered to the confessors in the mines and in the prisons. And he was very zealous in the judgment hall to stir up to readiness those who were summoned when in their contest, while those who were being martyred he received and brought on their way until they were perfected. The judge, therefore, beholding the fearlessness of Antony and his companions, and their zeal in this matter, commanded that no monk should appear in the judgment hall, nor remain at all in the city. So all the rest thought it good to hide themselves that day, but Antony gave so little heed to the command that he washed his garment, and stood all next day on a raised place before them, and appeared in his best before the governor. Therefore when all the rest wondered at this, and the governor saw and passed by with his array, he stood fearlessly, shewing the readiness of us Christians. For, as I said before, he prayed himself to be a martyr, wherefore he seemed as one grieved that he had not borne his witness. But the Lord was keeping him for our profit and that of others, that he should become a teacher to many of the discipline which he had learned from the Scriptures. For many only beholding his manner of life were eager to be imitators of his ways. So he again ministered as usual to the confessors, and as though he were their fellow captive he laboured in his ministry.

47. And when at last the persecution ceased, and the blessed Bishop Peter [15] had borne his testimony; Antony departed, and again withdrew to his cell, and was there daily a martyr to his conscience, and contending in the conflicts of faith. And his discipline was much severer, for he was ever fasting, and he had a garment of hair on the inside, while the outside was skin, which he kept until his end. And he neither bathed his body with water to free himself from filth, nor did he ever wash his feet nor even endure so much as to put them into water, unless compelled by necessity. Nor did any one even see him unclothed, nor his body naked at all, except after his death, when he was buried.

48. When therefore he had retired and determined to fix a time, after which neither to go forth himself nor admit anybody, Martinian, a military officer, came and disturbed Antony. For he had a daughter afflicted with an evil spirit. But when he continued for a long while knocking at the door, and asking him to come out and pray to God for his child, Antony, not bearing to open, looked out from above and said, 'Man, why dost thou call on me? I also am a man even as you. But if you believe on Christ whom I serve, go, and according as you believe, pray to God, and it shall come to pass.' Straightway, therefore, he departed, believing and calling upon Christ, and he received his daughter cleansed from the devil. Many other things also through Antony the Lord did, who saith, 'Seek and it shall be given unto you [16].' For many of the sufferers, when he would not open his door, slept outside his cell, and by their faith and sincere prayers were healed.

49. But when he saw himself beset by many, and not suffered to withdraw himself according to his intent as he wished, fearing because of the signs which the Lord wrought by him, that either he should be puffed up, or that some other should think of him above what he ought to think, he considered and set off to go into the upper Thebaid, among those to whom he was unknown. And having received loaves from the brethren, he sat down by the bank of the river, looking whether a boat would go by, that, having embarked thereon, he might go up the river with them. While he was considering these things, a voice came to him from above, 'Antony, whither goest thou and wherefore?' But he no way disturbed, but as he had been accustomed to be called [16a] often thus, giving ear to it, answered, saying, 'Since the multitude permit me not to be still, I wish to go into the upper Thebaid on account of the many hindrances that come upon me here, and especially because they demand of me things beyond my power.' But the voice said unto him, 'Even though you should go into the Thebaid, or even though, as you have in mind, i you should go down to the Bucolia [17], you will have to endure more, aye, double the amount of toil. But if you wish really to be in quiet, depart now into the inner desert.' And when Antony said, 'Who will show me the way for I know it not?' immediately the voice pointed out to him Saracens about to go that way. So Antony approached, and drew near them, and asked that he might go with them into the desert. And they, as though they had been commanded by Providence, received him willingly. And having journeyed with them three days and three nights, he came to a very lofty mountain, and at the foot of the mountain ran a clear spring, whose waters were sweet and very cold; outside there was a plain and a few uncared-for palm trees.

50. Antony then, as it were, moved by God, loved the place [18], for this was the spot which he who had spoken with him by the banks of the river had pointed out. So having first received loaves from his fellow travellers, he abode in the mountain alone, no one else being with him. And recognising it as his own home, he remained in that place for the future. But the Saracens, having seen the earnestness of Antony, purposely used to journey that way, and joyfully brought him loaves, while now and then the palm trees also afforded him a poor and frugal relish. But after this, the brethren learning of the place, like children mindful of their father, took care to send to him. But when Antony saw that the bread was the cause of trouble and hardships to some of them, to spare the monks this, he resolved to ask some of those who came to bring him a spade, an axe, and a little corn. And when these were brought, he went over the land round the mountain, and having found a small plot of suitable ground, tilled it; and having a plentiful supply of water for watering, he sowed. This doing year by year, he got his bread from thence, rejoicing that thus he would be troublesome to no one, and because he kept himself from being a burden to anybody. But after this, seeing again that people came, he cultivated a few pot-herbs, that he who came to him might have some slight solace after the labour of that hard journey. At first, however, the wild beasts in the desert, coming because of the water, often injured his seeds and husbandry. But he, gently laving hold of one of them, said to them all, 'Why do you hurt me, when I hurt none of you? Depart, and in the name of the Lord come not nigh this spot.' And from that time forward, as though fearful of his command, they no more came near the place.

51. So he was alone in the inner mountain, spending his time in prayer and discipline. And the brethren who served him asked that they might come every month and bring him olives, pulse and oil, for by now he was an old man. There then he passed his life, and endured such great wrestlings, 'Not against flesh and blood [19],' as it is written, but against opposing demons, as we learned from those who visited him. For there they heard tumults, many voices, and, as it were, the clash of arms. At night they saw the mountain become full of wild beasts, and him also fighting as though against visible beings, and praying against them. And those who came to him he encouraged, while kneeling he contended and prayed to the Lord. Surely it was a marvellous thing that a man, alone in such a desert, feared neither the demons who rose up against him, nor the fierceness of the four-footed beasts and creeping things, for all they were so many. But in truth, as it is written, 'He trusted in the Lord as Mount Sion [20],' with a mind unshaken and undisturbed; so that the demons rather fled from him, and the wild beasts, as it is written [21], 'kept peace with him.'

52. The devil, therefore, as David says in the Psalms [1], observed Antony and gnashed his teeth against him. But Antony was consoled by the Saviour and continued unhurt by his wiles and varied devices. As he was watching in the night the devil sent wild beasts against him. And almost all the hyenas in that desert came forth from their dens and surrounded him; and he was in the midst, while each one threatened to bite. Seeing that it was a trick of the enemy he said to them all: 'If ye have received power against me I am ready to be devoured by you; but if ye were sent against me by demons, stay not, but depart, for I am a servant of Christ.' When Antony said this they fled, driven by that word as with a whip.

53. A few days after, as he was working (for he was careful to work hard), some one stood at the door and pulled the plait which he was working, for he used to weave baskets, which he gave to those who came in return for what they brought him. And rising up he saw a beast like a man to the thighs but having legs and feet like those of an ass. And Antony only signed himself and said, 'I am a servant of Christ. If thou art sent against me, behold I am here.' But the beast together with his evil spirits fled, so that, through his speed, he fell and died. And the death of the beast was the fall of the demons. For they strove in all manner of ways to lead Antony from the desert and were not able.

54. And once being asked by the monks to come down and visit them and their abodes after a time, he journeyed with those who came to him. And a camel carried the loaves and the water for them. For all that desert is dry, and there is no water at all that is fit to drink, save in that mountain from whence they drew the water, and in which Antony's cell was. So when the water failed them on their way, and the heat was very great, they all were in danger. For having gone round the neighbour-hood and finding no water, they could walk no further, but lay on the ground and despairing of themselves, let the camel go. But the old man seeing that they were all in jeopardy, groaning in deep grief, departed a little way from them, and kneeling down he stretched forth his hands and prayed. And immediately the Lord made water to well forth where he had stood praying, and so all drank and were revived. And having filled their bottles they sought the camel and found her, for the rope happened to have caught in a stone and so was held fast. Having led it and watered it they placed the bottles on its back and finished their journey in safety. And when he came to the outer cells all saluted him, looking on him as a father. And he too, as though bringing supplies from the mountain, entertained them with his words and gave them a share of help. And again there was joy in the mountains, zeal for improvement and consolation through their mutual faith. Antony also rejoiced when he beheld the earnestness of the monks, and his sister grown old in virginity, and that she herself also was the leader of other virgins.

55. So after certain days he went in again to the mountain. And henceforth many resorted to him, and others who were suffering ventured to go in. To all the monks therefore who came to him, he continually gave this precept: 'Believe on the Lord and love Him; keep yourselves from filthy thoughts and fleshly pleasures, and as it is written in the Proverbs, be not deceived "by the fulness of the belly [a]." Pray continually; avoid vainglory; sing psalms before sleep and on awaking; hold in your heart the commandments of Scripture; be mindful of the works of the saints that your souls being put in remembrance of the commandments may be brought into harmony with the zeal of the saints.' And especially he counselled them to meditate continually on the apostle's word, 'Let not the sun go down upon your wrath? And he considered this was spoken of all commandments in common, and that not on wrath alone, but not on any other sin of ours, ought the sun to go down. For it was good and needful that neither the sun should condemn us for an evil by day nor the moon for a sin by night, or even for an evil thought. That this state may l be preserved in us it is good to hear the apostle and keep his words, for he says, 'Try your own selves and prove your own selves [4].' Daily, therefore, let each one take from himself the tale of his actions both by day and night; and if he have sinned, let him cease from it; while if he have not, let him not be boastful. But let him abide in that which is good, without being negligent, nor condemning his neighbours, nor justifying himself, 'until the Lord come who searcheth out hidden things [5],' as saith the blessed apostle Paul. For often unawares we do things that we know not of but the Lord seeth all things. Wherefore committing the judgment to Him, let us have sympathy one with another. Let us bear each other's burdens [6]: but let us examine our own selves and hasten to fill up that in which we are lacking. And as a safeguard against sin let the following be observed. Let us each one note and write down our actions and the impulses of our soul as though we were going to relate them to each other. And be assured that if we should be utterly ashamed to have them known, we shall abstain from sin and harbour no base thoughts in our mind. For who wishes to be seen while sinning? or who will not rather lie after the commission of a sin, through the wish to escape notice? As then while we are looking at one another, we would not commit carnal sin, so if we record our thoughts as though about to tell them to one another, we shall the more easily keep ourselves free from vile thoughts through shame lest they should be known. Wherefore let that which is written be to us in place of the eyes of our fellow hermits, that blushing as much to write as if we had been caught, we may never think of what is unseemly. Thus fashioning ourselves we shall be able to keep the body in subjection, to please the Lord, and to trample on the devices of the enemy.

56. This was the advice he gave to those who came to him. And with those who suffered he sympathised and prayed. And oft-times the Lord heard him on behalf of many: yet he boasted not because he was heard, nor did he murmur if he were not. But always he gave the Lord thanks and besought the sufferer to be patient, and to know that healing belonged neither to him nor to man at all, but only to the Lord, who doeth good when and to whom He will. The sufferers therefore used to receive the words of the old man as though they were a cure, learning not to be downhearted but rather to be long-suffering. And those who were healed were taught not to give thanks to Antony but to God alone.

57. Wherefore a man, Fronto by name, who was an officer of the Court and had a terrible disease, for he used to bite his own tongue and was in danger of injury to his eyes, having come to the mountain, asked Antony to pray for him. But Antony said to him, 'Depart and thou shalt be healed.' But when he was violent and remained within some days, Antony waited and said, 'If thou stayest here, thou canst not be healed. Go, and having come into Egypt thou shall see the sign wrought in thee.' And he believed and went. And as soon as he set eyes on Egypt his sufferings ceased, and the man became whole according to the word of Antony, which the Saviour had revealed to him in prayer.

58. There was also a maiden from Busiris Tripolitana, who had a terrible and very hideous disorder. For the runnings of her eyes, nose, and ears fell to the ground and immediately became worms. She was paralysed also and squinted. Her parents having heard of monks going to Antony, and believing on the Lord who healed [7] the woman with the issue of blood, asked to be allowed, together with their daughter, to journey with them. And when they suffered them, the parents together with the girl, remained outside the mountain with Paphnutius, the confessor and monk; but the monks went in to Antony. And when they only wished to tell about the damsel, he anticipated them, and detailed both the sufferings of the child and how she journeyed with them. Then when they asked that she should be admitted, Antony did not allow it, but said, 'Go, and if she be not dead, you will find her healed: for the accomplishment of this is not mine, that she should come to me, wretched man that I am, but her healing is the work of the Saviour, who in every place sheweth His pity to them that call upon Him. Wherefore the Lord hath inclined to her as she prayed, and His loving-kindness hath declared to me that He will heal the child where she now is.' So the wonder took place; and going out they found the parents rejoicing and the girl whole.

59. But when two brethren were coming to him, the water failed on the way, and one died and the other was at the point of death, for he had no strength to go on, but lay upon the ground expecting to die. But Antony sitting in the mountain called two monks, who chanced to be there, and urged them saying, 'Take a pitcher of water and run on the road towards Egypt. For of two men who were coming, one is already dead and the other will die unless you hasten. For this has been revealed to me as I was praying.' The monks therefore went, and found one lying dead, whom they buried, and the other they restored with water and led him to the old man. For it was a day's journey [7a]. But if any one asks, why he did not speak before the other died, the question ought not to be asked. For the punishment of death was not Antony's but God's, who also judged the one and revealed the condition of the other. But the marvel here was only in the case of Antony: that he sitting in the mountain had his heart watchful, and had the Lord to show him things afar off.

60. And this is so, for once again he was sitting on the mountain, and looking up saw in the air some one being borne upwards, and there was much joy among those who met him. Then wondering and deeming a company of that kind to be blessed, he prayed to learn what this might be. And immediately a voice came to him: 'This is the soul of Amun, the monk at Nitria.' Now Amun had persevered in the discipline up to old age; and the distance from Nitria to the mountain where Antony was, was thirteen days' journey. The companions of Antony therefore, seeing the old man amazed, asked to learn, and heard that Amun was just dead [8]. And he was well known, for he had stayed there very often, and many signs had been wrought by his means. And this is one of them. Once when he had need to cross the river called Lycus (now it was the season of the flood), he asked his comrade Theodorus to remain at a distance, that they should not see one another naked as they swam the water. Then when Theodorus was departed he again felt ashamed even to see himself naked. While, therefore, he was pondering filled with shame, on a sudden he was borne over to the other side. Theodorus, therefore, himself being a good man, approached, and seeing Amun across first without a drop of water falling from him, enquired how he had got over. And when he saw that Amun was unwilling to tell him, he held him by the feet and declared that he would not let him go before he had learned it from him. So Amun seeing the determination of Theodorus especially from what he had said, and having asked him to tell no man before his death, told him that he had been carried and placed on the further side. And that he had not even set foot on the water, nor was that possible for man, but for the Lord alone and those whom He permits, as He did for the great apostle Peter [9]. Theodorus therefore told this after the death of Amun. And the monks to whom Antony spoke concerning Amun's death marked the day; and when the brethren came up from Nitria thirty days after, they enquired of them and learned that Amun had fallen asleep at that day and hour in which the old man had seen his soul borne upwards. And both these and the others marvelled at the purity of Antony's soul, how he had immediately learned that which was taking place at a distance of thirteen days' journey, and had seen the soul as it was taken up.

61. And Archelaus too, the Count, on a time having found him in the outer mountain, asked him merely to pray for Polycratia of Laodicea, an excellent and Christian [9a] maiden, for she suffered terribly in the stomach and side through over much discipline, and was altogether weakly of body. Antony prayed therefore, and the Count noted the day in which the prayer was made, and having departed to Laodicea he found the maiden whole. And having enquired when and on what day she was relieved of her infirmity, he produced the paper on which he had written the time of the prayer, and having read it he immediately shewed the writing on the paper. And all wondered when they knew that the Lord had relieved her of pain at the time when Antony was praying and invoking the goodness of the Saviour on her behalf.

62. And concerning those who came to him, he often foretold some days or sometimes a month beforehand what was the cause of their coming. For some came only for the sake of seeing him, others through sickness, and others suffering from evil spirits. And all thought the labour of the journey neither trouble nor loss. For each one returned aware that he had received benefit. But though saying such things and beholding such sights, he used to ask that no one should wonder at him for this; but should rather marvel at the Lord for having granted to us men to know Him as far as our powers extended.

63. Afterwards, on another occasion, having descended to the outer cells, he was asked to enter a vessel and pray with the monks, and he alone perceived an exceedingly unpleasant smell. But those on board said that the stench arose from the fish and salt meat in the ship. He replied however, the smell was different from that; and while he was speaking, a youth with an evil spirit, who had come and hidden himself in the ship, cried out. But the demon being rebuked in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ departed from him, and the man became whole. And all knew that the evil smell arose from the demon.

64. And another, a person of rank, came to him, possessed by a demon; and the demon was so terrible that the man possessed did not know that he was coming to Antony. But he even ate the excreta from his body. So those who brought him besought Antony to pray for him. And Antony pitying the young man prayed and kept watch with him all the night. And about dawn the young man suddenly attacked Antony and gave him a push. But when those who came with him were angry, Antony said, 'Be not angry with the young man, for it is not he, but the demon which is in him. And being rebuked and commanded to go into dry places, the demon became raging mad, and he has done this. Wherefore give thanks to the Lord, for his attack on me thus is a sign of the departure of the evil spirit.' When Antony had said this, straightway the young man had become whole, and having come at last to his right mind, knew where he was, and saluted the old man and gave thanks to God.

65. And many monks have related with the greatest agreement and unanimity that many other such like things were done by him. But still these do not seem as marvellous as certain other things appear to be. For once, when about to eat, having risen up to pray about the ninth hour, he perceived that he was caught up in the spirit, and, wonderful to tell, he stood and saw himself, as it were, from outside himself, and that he was led in the air by certain ones. Next certain bitter and terrible beings stood in the air and wished to hinder him from passing through. But when his conductors opposed them, they demanded whether he was not accountable to them. And when they wished to sum up the account from his birth, Antony's conductors stopped them, saying, 'The Lord hath wiped out the sins from his birth, but from the time he became a monk, and devoted himself to God, it is permitted you to make a reckoning.' Then when they accused him and could not convict him, his way was free and unhindered. And immediately he saw himself, as it were, coming and standing by himself, and again he was Antony as before. Then forgetful of eating, he remained the rest of the day and through the whole of the night groaning and praying. For he was astonished when he saw against what mighty opponents our wrestling is, and by what labours we have to pass through the air. And he remembered that this is what the Apostle said, 'according to the prince of the power of the air [10].' For in it the enemy hath power to fight and to attempt to hinder those who pass through. Wherefore most earnestly he exhorted, 'Take up the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day [11],' that the enemy, 'having no evil thing to say against us, may be ashamed [12].' And we who have learned this, let us be mindful of the Apostle when he says, 'whether in the body I know not, or whether out of the body I know not; God knoweth [13].' But Paul was caught up unto the third heaven, and having heard things unspeakable he came down; while Antony saw that he had come to the air, and contended until he was free.

66. And he had also this favour granted him. For as he was sitting alone on the mountain, if ever he was in perplexity in his meditations, this was revealed to him by Providence in prayer. And the happy man, as it is written, was taught of God [14]. After this, when he once had a discussion with certain men who had come to him concerning the state of the soul and of what nature its place will be after this life, the following night one from above called him, saying, 'Antony, rise, go out and look.' Having gone out therefore (for he knew whom he ought to obey) looking up, he beheld one standing and reaching to the clouds, tall, hideous, and fearful, and others ascending as though they were winged. And the figure stretched forth his hands, and some of those who were ascending were stayed by him, while others flew above, and having escaped heavenward, were borne aloft free from care. At such, therefore, the giant gnashed his teeth, but rejoiced over those who fell back. And forthwith a voice came to Antony, 'Understandest thou what thou seest?' And his understanding was opened, and he understood that it was the passing of souls, and that the tall being who stood was the enemy who envies the faithful. And those whom he caught and stopped from passing through are accountable to him, while those whom he was unable to hold as they passed upwards had not been subservient to him. So having seen this, and as it were being reminded, he struggled the more daily to advance towards those things which were before. And these visions he was unwilling to tell, but as he spent much time in prayer, and was amazed, when those who were with him pressed him with questions and forced him, he was compelled to speak, as a father who cannot withhold ought from his children. And he thought that as his conscience was clear, the account would be beneficial for them, that they might learn that discipline bore good fruit, and that visions were oftentimes the solace of their labours.

67. Added to this he was tolerant in disposition and humble in spirit. For though he was such a man, he observed the rule of the Church most rigidly, and was willing that all the clergy should be honoured above himself [17]. For he was not ashamed to bow his head to bishops and presbyters,and if ever a deacon came to him for help he discoursed with him on what was profitable, but gave place to him in prayer, not being ashamed to learn himself. For often he would ask questions, and desired to listen to those who were present, and if any one said anything that was useful he confessed that he was profited. And besides, his countenance had a great and wonderful grace. This gift also he had from the Saviour. For if he were present in a great company of monks, and any one who did not know him previously, wished to see him, immediately coming forward he passed by the rest, and hurried to Antony, as though attracted by his appearance. Yet neither in height nor breadth was he conspicuous above others, but in the serenity of his manner and the purity of his soul. For as his soul was free from disturbances, his outward appearance was calm; so from the joy of his soul he possessed a cheerful countenance, and from his bodily movements could be perceived the condition of his soul, as it is written, 'When the heart is merry the countenance is cheerful, but when it is sorrowful it is cast down [18].' Thus Jacob recognised the counsel Laban had in his heart, and said to his wives, 'The countenance of your father is not as it was yesterday and the day before [19].' Thus Samuel recognised David, for he had mirthful eyes, and teeth white as milk. Thus Antony was recognised, for he was never disturbed, for his soul was at peace; he was never downcast, for his mind was joyous.

68. And he was altogether wonderful in faith and religious, for he never held communion with the Meletian schismatics, knowing their wickedness and apostasy from the beginning; nor had he friendly dealings with the Manichaeans or any other heretics; or, if he had, only as far as advice that they should change to piety. For he thought and asserted that intercourse with these was harmful and destructive to the soul. In the same manner also he loathed the heresy of the Arians, and exhorted all neither to approach them nor to bold their erroneous belief. And once when certain Arian madmen came to him, when he had questioned them and learned their impiety, he drove them from the mountain, saying that their words were worse than the poison of serpents.

69. And once also the Arians having lyingly asserted that Antony's opinions were the same as theirs, he was displeased and wroth against them. Then being summoned by the bishops and all the brethren, he descended from the mountain, and having entered Alexandria [19a], he denounced the Arians, saying that their heresy was the last of all and a forerunner of Antichrist. And he taught the people that the Son of God was not a created being, neither had He come into being from non-existence, but that He was the Eternal Word and Wisdom of the Essence of the Father. And therefore it was impious to say, 'there was a time when He was not,' for the Word was always co-existent with the Father. Wherefore have no fellowship with the most impious Arians. For there is no communion between light and darkness [20]. For you are good Christians, but they, when they say that the Son of the Father, the Word of God, is a created being, differ in nought from the heathen, since they worship that which is created, rather than God the creator [1]. But believe ye that the Creation itself is angry with them because they number the Creator, the Lord of all, by whom all things came into being, with those things which were originated.

70. All the people, therefore, rejoiced when they heard the anti-Christian heresy anathematised by such a man. And all the people in the city ran together to see Antony; and the Greeks and those who are called their Priests, came into the church, saying, 'We ask to see the man of God,' for so they all called him. For in that place also the Lord cleansed many of demons, and healed those who were mad. And many Greeks asked that they might even but touch the old man, believing that they should be profited. Assuredly as many became Christians in those few days as one would have seen made in a year. Then when some thought that he was troubled by the crowds, and on this account turned them all away from him, he said, undisturbedly, that there were not more of them than of the demons with whom he wrestled in the mountain.

71. But when he was departing, and we were setting him forth on his way, as we [2] arrived at the gate a woman from behind cried out, 'Stay, thou man of God, my daughter is grievously vexed by a devil. Stay, I beseech thee, lest I too harm myself with running.' And the old man when he heard her, and was asked by us, willingly stayed. And when the woman drew near, the child was cast on the ground. But when Antony had prayed and called upon the name of Christ, the child was raised whole, for the unclean spirit was gone forth. And the mother blessed God, and all gave thanks. And Antony himself also rejoiced, departing to the mountain as though it were to his own home.

72. And Antony also was exceeding prudent, and the wonder was that although he had not learned letters, he was a ready-witted and sagacious man. At all events two Greek philosophers once came, thinking they could try their skill on Antony; and he was in the outer mountain, and having recognised who they were from their appearance, he came to them and said to them by means of an interpreter, 'Why, philosophers, did ye trouble yourselves so much to come to a foolish man?' And when they said that he was not a foolish man, but exceedingly prudent, he said to them, ' If you came to a foolish man, your labour is superfluous; but if you think me prudent become as I am, for we ought to imitate what is good. And if I had come to you I should have imitated you; but if you to me, become as I am, for I am a Christian.' But they departed with wonder, for they saw that even demons feared Antony.

73. And again others such as these met him in the outer mountain and thought to mock [3], him because he had not learned letters. And Antony said to them, 'What say ye? which is first, mind or letters? And which is the cause of which--mind of letters or letters of mind?' And when they answered mind is first and the inventor of letters, Antony said, 'Whoever, therefore, hath a sound mind hath not need of letters.' This answer amazed both the bystanders and the philosophers, and they departed marvelling that they had seen so much understanding in an ignorant man. For his manners were not rough as though he bad been reared in the mountain and there grown old, but graceful and polite, and his speech was seasoned with the divine salt, so that no one was envious, but rather all rejoiced over him who visited him.

74. After this again certain others came; and these were men who were deemed wise among the Greeks, and they asked him a reason for our faith in Christ. But when they attempted to dispute concerning the preaching of the divine Cross and meant to mock, Antony stopped for a little, and first pitying their ignorance, said, through an interpreter, who could skilfully interpret his words, 'Which is more beautiful, to confess the Cross or to attribute to those whom you call gods adultery and the seduction of boys? For that which is chosen by us is a sign of courage and a sure token of the contempt of death, while yours are the passions of licentiousness. Next, which is better, to say that the Word of God was not changed, but, being the same, He took a human body for the salvation and well-being of man, that having shared in human birth He might make man partake in the divine and spiritual nature [4]; or to liken the divine to senseless animals and consequently to worship four-footed beasts, creeping things and the likenesses of men? For these things, are the objects of reverence of you wise men. But how do you dare to mock us, who say that Christ has appeared as man, seeing that you, bringing the soul from heaven, assert that it has strayed and fallen from the vault of the sky into body [5]? And would that you had said that it had fallen into human body alone, and not asserted that it passes and changes into four-footed beasts and creeping things. For our faith declares that the coming of Christ was for the salvation of men. But you err because you speak of soul as not generated. And we, considering the power and loving-kindness of Providence, think that the coming of Christ in the flesh was not impossible with God. But you, although calling the soul the likeness of Mind [6], connect it with falls and feign in your myths that it is changeable, and consequently introduce the idea that Mind itself is changeable by reason of the soul. For whatever is the nature of a likeness, such necessarily is the nature of that of which it is a likeness. But whenever you think such a thought concerning Mind, remember that you blaspheme even the Father of Mind Himself [7].

75. But concerning the Cross, which would you say to be the better, to bear it, when a plot is brought about by wicked men, nor to be in fear of death brought about under any form whatever [8]; or to prate about the wanderings of Osiris and Isis, the plots of Typhon, the flight of Cronos, his eating his children and the slaughter of his father. For this is your wisdom. But how, if you mock the Cross, do you not marvel at the resurrection? For the same men who told us of the latter wrote the former, Or why when you make mention of the Cross are you silent about the dead who were raised, the blind who received their sight, the paralytics who were healed, the lepers who were cleansed, the walking upon the sea, and the rest of the signs and wonders, which shew that Christ is no longer a man but God? To me you seem to do yourselves much injustice and not to have carefully read our Scriptures. But read and see that the deeds of Christ prove Him to be God come upon earth for the salvation of men.

76. But do you tell us your religious beliefs. What can you say of senseless creatures except senselessness and ferocity? But if, as I hear, you wish to say that these things are spoken of by you as legends, and you allegorize the rape of the maiden Persephone of the earth; the lameness of Hephaestus of fire; and allegorize the air as Hera, the sun as Apollo, the moon as Artemis, and the sea as Poseidon; none the less, you do not worship God Himself, but serve the creature rather than God who created all things. For if because creation is: beautiful you composed such legends, still it was fitting that you should stop short at admiration and not make gods of the things created; so that you should not give the honour of the Creator to that which is created. Since, if you do, it is time for you to divert the honour of the master builder to the house built by him; and of the general to the soldier. What then can you reply to these things, that we may know whether the Cross hath anything worthy of mockery?'

77. But when they were at a loss, turning hither and thither, Antony smiled and said--again through an interpreter--'Sight itself carries the conviction of these things. But as you prefer to lean upon demonstrative arguments, and as you, having this art, wish us also not to worship God, until after such proof, do you tell first how things in general and specially the recognition of God are accurately known. Is it through demonstrative argument or the working of faith? And which is better, faith which comes through the inworking (of God) or demonstration by arguments?' And when they answered that faith which comes through the inworking was better and was accurate knowledge, Antony said, 'You have answered well, for faith arises from disposition of soul, but dialectic from the skill of its inventors. Wherefore to those who have the inworking through faith, demonstrative argument is needless, or even superfluous. For what we know through faith this you attempt to prove through words, and often you are not even able to express what we understand. So the inworking through faith is better and stronger than your professional arguments.

78. 'We Christians therefore hold the mystery not in the wisdom of Greek arguments, but in the power of faith richly supplied to us by God through Jesus Christ. And to show that this statement is true, behold now, without having learned letters, we believe in God, knowing through His works His providence over all things. And to show that our faith is effective, so now we are supported by faith in Christ, but you by professional logomachies. The portents of the idols among you are being done away, but our faith is extending everywhere. You by your arguments and quibbles have converted none from Christianity to Paganism. We, teaching the faith on Christ, expose your superstition, since all recognise that Christ is God and the Son of God. You by your eloquence do not hinder the teaching of Christ. But we by the mention of Christ crucified put all demons to flight, whom you fear as if they were gods. Where the sign of the Cross is [9], magic is weak and witchcraft has no strength.

79. ' Tell us therefore where your oracles are now? Where are the charms of the Egyptians? Where the delusions of the magicians? When did all these things cease and grow weak except when the Cross of Christ arose? Is It then a fit subject for mockery, and not rather the things brought to nought by it, and convicted of weakness? For this is a marvellous thing, that your religion was never persecuted, but even was honoured by men in every city, while the followers of Christ are persecuted, and still our side flourishes and multiplies over yours. What is yours, though praised and honoured, perishes, while the faith and teaching of Christ, though mocked by you and often persecuted by kings, has filled the world. For when has the knowledge of God so shone forth? or when has self-control and the excellence of virginity appeared as now? or when has death been so despised except when the Cross of Christ has appeared? And this no one doubts when he sees [10] the martyr despising death for the sake of Christ, when he sees for Christ's sake the virgins of the Church keeping themselves pure and undefiled.

80. 'And these signs are sufficient to prove that the faith of Christ alone is the true religion. But see! you still do not believe and are seeking for arguments. We however make our proof "not in the persuasive words of Greek wisdom [11]" as our teacher has it, but we persuade by the faith which manifestly precedes argumentative proof. Behold there are here some vexed with demons ;'--now there were certain who had come to him very disquieted by demons, and bringing them into the midst he said,--'Do you cleanse them either by arguments and by whatever art or magic you choose, calling upon your idols, or if you are unable, put away your strife with us and you shall see the power of the Cross of Christ.' And having said this he called upon Christ, and signed the sufferers two or three times with the sign of the Cross. And immediately the men stood up whole, and in their right mind, and forthwith gave thanks unto the Lord. And the philosophers, as they are called, wondered, and were astonished exceedingly at the understanding of the man and at the sign which had been wrought. But Antony said, 'Why marvel ye at this? We are not the doers of these things, but it is Christ who worketh them by means of those who believe on Him. Believe, therefore, also yourselves, and you shall see that with us there is no trick of words, but faith through love which is wrought in us towards Christ; which if you yourselves should obtain you will no longer seek demonstrative arguments, but will consider faith in Christ sufficient.' These are the words of Antony. And they marvelling at this also, saluted him and departed, confessing the benefit they had received from him [12].

81. And the fame of Antony came even unto kings. For Constantine Augustus, and his sons Constantius and Constans the Augusti wrote letters to him, as to a father, and begged an answer from him. But he made nothing very much of the letters, nor did he rejoice at the messages. but was the same as he had been before the Emperors wrote to him. But when they brought him the letters he called the monks and said, 'Do not be astonished if an emperor writes to us, for he is a man; but rather wonder that God wrote the Law for men and has spoken to us [13] through His own Son.' And so he was unwilling to receive the letters, saying that he did not know how to write an answer to such things. But being urged by the monks because the emperors were Christians, and lest they should take offence on the ground that they had been spurned, he consented that they should be read, and wrote an answer approving them because they worshipped Christ, and giving them counsel on things pertaining to salvation: 'not to think much of the present, but rather to remember the judgment that is coming, and to know that Christ alone was the true and Eternal King.' He begged them to be merciful and to give heed to justice and the poor. And they having received the answer rejoiced. Thus he was dear to all, and all desired to consider him as a father.

82. Being known to be so great a man, therefore, and having thus given answers to those who visited him, he returned again to the inner mountain, and maintained his wonted discipline. And often when people-came to him, as he was sitting or walking, as it is written in Daniel [14], he became dumb, and after a season he resumed the thread of what he had been saying before to the brethren who were with him. And his companions perceived that he was seeing a vision. For often when he was on the mountains he saw what was happening in Egypt, and told it to Sera-pion the bishop [15], who was indoors with him, and who saw that Antony was wrapped in a vision. Once as he was sitting and working, he fell, as it were, into a trance, and groaned much at what he saw. Then after a time, having turned to the bystanders with groans and trembling, he prayed, and falling on his knees remained so a long time. And having arisen the old man wept. His companions, therefore, trembling and terrified, desired to learn from him what it was. And they troubled him much, until he was forced to speak. And with many groans he spake as follows: 'O, my children, it were better to die before what has appeared in the vision come to pass.' And when again they asked him, having burst into tears, he said, 'Wrath is about to seize the Church, and it is on the point of being given up to men who are like senseless beasts. For I saw the table of the Lord's House, and mules standing around it on all sides in a ring, and kicking the things therein, just like a herd kicks when it leaps in confusion. And you saw,' said he, 'how I groaned, for I heard a voice saying, "My altar shall be defiled."' These things the old man saw, and after two years the present [16] inroad of the Arians and the plunder of the churches took place, when they violently carried off the vessels, and made the heathen carry them; and when they forced the heathen from the prisons to join in their services, and in their presence did upon the Table as they would. Then we all understood that these kicks of the mules signified to Antony what the Arians, senselessly like beasts, are now doing. But when he saw this vision, he comforted those with him, saying, 'Be not downcast, my children; for as the Lord has been angry, so again will He heal us, and the Church shall soon again receive her own order, and shall shine forth as she is wont. And you shall behold the persecuted restored, and wickedness again withdrawn to its own hiding-place, and pious faith speaking boldly in every place with all freedom. Only defile [17] not yourselves with the Arians, for their teaching is not that of the Apostles, but that of demons and their father the devil; yea, rather, it is barren and senseless, and without light understanding, like the senselessness of these mules.'

83. Such are the words of Antony, and we ought not to doubt whether such marvels were wrought by the hand of a man. For it is the promise of the Saviour, when He saith, 'If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say to this mountain, remove hence and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto yours [18].' And again, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, if ye shall ask the father in My name He will give it you. Ask and ye shall receive [19].' And He himself it is who saith to His disciples and to all who believe on Him, ' Heal the sick, cast out demons; freely ye have received, freely give [20].'

84. Antony, at any rate, healed not by commanding, but by prayer and speaking the name of Christ. So that it was clear to all that it was not he himself who worked, but the Lord who showed mercy by his means and healed the sufferers. But Antony's part was only prayer and discipline, for the sake of which he stayed in the mountain, rejoicing in the contemplation of divine things, but grieving when troubled by much people, and dragged to the outer mountain. For all judges used to ask him to come down, because it was impossible for them to enter on account of their following of litigants. But nevertheless they asked him to come that they might but see him. When therefore he avoided it and refused to go to them, they remained firm, and sent to him all the more the prisoners under charge of soldiers, that on account of these he might come down. Being forced by necessity, and seeing them lamenting, he came into the outer mountain, and again his labour was not unprofitable. For his coming was advantageous and serviceable to many; and he was of profit to the judges, counselling them to prefer justice to all things; to fear God, and to know, 'that with what judgment they judged, they should be judged [1].' But he loved more than all things his sojourn in the mountain.

85. At another time, suffering the same compulsion at the hands of them who had need, and after many entreaties from the commander of the soldiers, he came down, and when he was come he spoke to them shortly of the things which make for salvation, and concerning those who wanted him, and was hastening away. But when the duke, as he is called, entreated him to stay, he replied that he could not linger among them, and persuaded him by a pretty simile, saying, 'Fishes, if they remain long on dry land, die. And so monks lose their strength if they loiter among you and spend their time with you. Wherefore as fish must hurry to the sea, so must we hasten to the mountain. Lest haply if we delay we forget the things within us.' And the general having heard this and many other things from him, was amazed and said, 'Of a truth this man is the servant of God. For, unless he were beloved of God, whence could an ignorant man have such great understanding?'

86. And a certain general, Balacius by name, persecuted us Christians bitterly on account of his regard for the Arians--that name of ill-omen. And as his ruthlessness, was so great that he beat virgins, and stripped and scourged monks, Antony at this time wrote a letter as follows, and sent it to him. 'I see wrath coming upon thee, wherefore cease to persecute the Christians, lest haply wrath catch hold of thee, for even now it is on the point of coming upon thee[2].' But Balacius laughed and threw the letter on the ground, and spit on it, and insulted the bearers, bidding them tell this to Antony: 'Since thou takest thought for the monks, soon I will come after thee also.' And five days had not passed before wrath came upon him. For Balacius and Nestorius, the Prefect of Egypt[3], went forth to the first halting-place from Alexandria, which is called Chaereu, and both were on horseback, and the horses belonged to Balacius, and were the quietest of all his stable. But they had not gone far towards the place when the horses began to frisk with one another as they are wont to do; and suddenly the quieter, on which Nestorius sat[4], with a bite dismounted Balacius, and attacked him, and tore his thigh so badly with its teeth that he was borne straight back to the city, and in three days died. And all wondered because what Antony had foretold had been so speedily fulfilled.

87. Thus, therefore, he warned the cruel. But the rest who came to him he so instructed that they straightway forgot their lawsuits, and felicitated those who were in retirement from the world. And he championed those who were wronged in such a way that you would imagine that he, and not the others, was the sufferer. Further, he was able to be of such use to all, that many soldiers and men who had great possessions laid aside the burdens of life, and became monks for the rest of their days. And it was as if a physician had been given by God to Egypt. For who in grief met Antony and did not return rejoicing? Who came mourning for his dead and did not forthwith put off his sorrow? Who came in anger and was not converted to friendship? What poor and low-spirited man met him who, hearing him and looking upon him, did not despise wealth and console himself in his poverty? What monk, having being neglectful, came to him and became not all the stronger? What young man having come to the mountain and seen Antony, did not forthwith deny himself pleasure and love temperance? Who when tempted by a demon, came to him and did not find rest? And who came troubled with doubts and did not get quietness of mind?

88. For this was the wonderful thing in Antony's discipline, that, as I said before, having the gift of discerning spirits, he recognised their movements, and was not ignorant whither any one of them turned his energy and made his attack. And not only was he not deceived by them himself, but cheering those who were troubled with doubts, he taught them how to defeat their plans, telling them of the weakness and craft of those who possessed them. Thus each one, as though prepared by him for battle, came down from the mountain, braving the designs of the devil and his demons. How many maidens who had suitors, having but seen Antony from afar, remained maidens for Christ's sake. And people came also from foreign parts to him, and like all others, having got some benefit, returned, as though set forward by a father. And certainly when he died, all as having been bereft of a father, consoled themselves solely by their remembrances of him, preserving at the same time his counsel and advice.

89. It is worth while that I should relate, and that you, as you wish it, should hear what his death was like. For this end of his is worthy of imitation. According to his custom he visited the monks in the outer mountain, and having learned from Providence that his own end was at hand, he said to the brethren, 'This is my last visit to you which I shall make. And I shall be surprised if we see each other again in this life. At length the time of my departure is at hand, for I am near a hundred and five years old.' And when they heard it they wept, and embraced, and kissed the old man. But he, as though sailing from a foreign city to his own, spoke joyously, and exhorted them 'Not to grow idle in their labours, nor to become faint in their training, but to live as though dying daily. And as he had said before, zealously to guard the soul from foul thoughts, eagerly to imitate the Saints, and to have nought to do with the Meletian schismatics, for you know their wicked and profane character. Nor have any fellowship with the Arians, for their impiety is clear to all. Nor be disturbed if you see the judges protect them, for it shall cease, and their pomp is mortal and of short duration. Wherefore keep yourselves all the more untainted by them, and observe the traditions of the fathers, and chiefly the holy faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, which you have learned from the Scripture, and of which you have often been put in mind by me.'

90. But when the brethren were urging him to abide with them and there to die, he suffered. it not for many other reasons, as he showed by keeping silence, and especially for this:--The Egyptians are wont to honour with funeral rites, and to wrap in linen cloths at death the bodies of good men, and especially of the holy martyrs; and not to bury them underground, but to place them on couches, and to keep them in their houses, thinking in this to honour the departed. And Antony often urged the bishops to give commandment to the people on this matter. In like manner he taught the laity and reproved the women, saying, 'that this thing was neither lawful nor holy at all. For the bodies of the patriarchs and prophets are until now preserved in tombs, and the very body of the Lord was laid in a tomb, and a stone was laid upon it, and hid it until He rose on the third day[4a].' And thus saying, he showed that he who did not bury the bodies of the dead after death transgressed the law, even though they were sacred. For what is greater or more sacred than the body of the Lord? Many therefore having heard, henceforth buried the dead underground, and gave thanks to the Lord that they had been taught rightly.

91. But he, knowing the custom, and fearing that his body would be treated this way, hastened, and having bidden farewell to the monks in the outer mountain entered the inner mountain, where he was accustomed to abide. And after a few months he fell sick. Having summoned those who were there--they were two in number who had remained in the mountain fifteen years, practising the discipline and attending on Antony on account of his age--he said to them, 'I, as it is written[5], go the way of the fathers, for I perceive that I am called by the Lord, And do you be watchful and destroy not your long discipline, but as though now making a beginning, zealously preserve your determination. For ye know the treachery of the demons, how fierce they are, but how little power they have Where fore fear them not, but rather ever breathe Christ, and trust Him. Live as though dying daily. Give heed to yourselves, and remember the admonition you have heard from me. Have no fellowship with the schismatics, nor any dealings at all with the heretical Arians. For you know how I shunned them on account of their hostility to Christ, and the strange doctrines of their heresy. Therefore be the more earnest always to be followers first of God and then of the Saints; that after death they also may receive you as well-known friends into the eternal habitations. Ponder over these things and think of them, and if you have any care for me and are mindful of me as of a father, suffer no one to take my body into Egypt, lest haply they place me in the houses[6], for to avoid this I entered into the mountain and came here. Moreover you know how I always put to rebuke those who had this custom, and exhorted them to cease from it. Bury my body, therefore, and hide it underground yourselves, and let my words be observed by you that no one may know the place[6a] but you alone. For at the resurrection of the dead I shall receive it incorruptible from the Saviour. And divide my garments. To Athanasius the bishop give one sheepskin and the garment whereon I am laid, which he himself gave me new, but which with me has grown old. To Serapion the bishop give the other sheepskin, and keep the hair garment yourselves[7]. For the rest fare ye well, my children, for Antony is departing, and is with you no more.'

92. Having said this, when they had kissed him, he lifted up his feet, and as though he saw friends coming to him and was glad because of them--for as he lay his countenance appeared joyful--he died and was gathered to the fathers. And they afterward, according to his commandment, wrapped him up and buried him, hiding his body underground. And no one knows to this day where it was buried, save those two only. But each of those who received the sheepskin of the blessed Antony and the garment worn by him guards it as a precious treasure. For even to look on them is as it were to behold Antony; and he who is clothed in them seems with joy to bear his admonitions. 93. This is the end of Antony's life in the body and the above was the beginning of the discipline. Even if this account is small compared with his merit, still from this reflect how great Antony, the man of God, was. Who from his youth to so great an age preserved a uniform zeal for the discipline, and neither through old age was subdued by the desire of costly food, nor through the infirmity of his body changed the fashion of his clothing, nor washed even his feet with water, and yet remained entirely free from harm. For his eyes were undimmed and quite sound and he saw clearly; of his teeth he had not lost one, but they had become worn to the gums through the great age of the old man. He remained strong both in hands and feet; and while all men were using various foods, and washings and divers garments, he appeared more cheerful and of greater strength. And the fact that his fame has been blazoned everywhere; that all regard him with wonder, and that those who have never seen him long for him, is clear proof of his virtue and God's love of his soul. For not from writings, nor from worldly wisdom, nor through any art, was Antony renowned, but solely from his piety towards God. That this was the gift of God no one will deny. For from whence into Spain and into Gaul, how into Rome and Africa, was the man heard of who abode hidden in a mountain, unless it was God who maketh His own known everywhere, who also promised this to Antony at the beginning? For even if they work secretly, even if they wish to remain in obscurity, yet the Lord shows them as lamps to lighten all, that those who hear may thus know that the precepts of God are able to make men prosper and thus be zealous in the path of virtue.

94. Read these words, therefore, to the rest of the brethren that they may learn what the life of monks ought to be; and may believe that our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ glorifies those who glorify Him: and leads those who serve Him unto the end, not only to the kingdom of heaven, but here also--even though they hide themselves and are desirous of withdrawing from the world--makes them illustrious and well known everywhere on account of their virtue and the help they render others. And if need be, read this among the heathen, that even in this way they may learn that our Lord Jesus Christ is not only God and the Son of God, but also that the Christians who truly serve Him and religiously believe on Him, prove, not only that the demons, whom the Greeks themselves think to be gods, are no gods, but also tread them under foot and put them to flight, as deceivers and corrupters of mankind, through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.



Life No 3 The Life of Saint Hilarion, Monk [Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on October 21] by Jerome, presbyter & divine

Prologue I beg that you will remember me in your holy prayers, Dame Asella (nonna Asella), glory and ornament of virgins that you are. [She was the sister of Marcella whose Life appears in Book 1d of the Vitae. She had lived a virgin life on the Aventine in Rome from the age of ten] And as I begin to write about the life of the blessed Hilarion, I call upon the holy Spirit, who dwelt in him and showered him with virtues, to inspire me likewise with the words to describe him, so that my words may do justice to his deeds. For (as Crispus says) [Gaius Sallustius Crispus, a Roman historian, 86-34 BC] those who live virtuously are praised only in so far as there are talented writers to sing their praises. When Alexander the Great of Macedon, whom Daniel calls brass (Daniel 2.35), leopard (ibid. 7.6) and he-goat (ibid. 8.5), came to Achilles' tomb, he addressed him thus: "Blessed are you, O hero forever young, for your merits have been extolled by no less than Homer himself." Just so may I sing the life and deeds of this great man as if it were Homer still with us to understand him and fall under his spell. I know that the holy Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis in Cyprus, was an associate of Hilarion for a very long time, and has written a short letter in his praise which has had some circulation, but it is one thing to praise the dead in a general sort of way, and quite another to praise his virtues in serious detail. I begin this work about him not to diminish him but to extol him, and so I condemn those grumblers who, not content with criticising my account of Paul, now complain about Hilarion. Some cavil at his solitariness, others at his gregariousness. It is as if someone who was perpetually hidden away did not really exist, whereas someone in full view of many can only expect to be vilified. The Pharisees of old did exactly the same and more, criticising both John the Baptist fasting in the desert, and our Lord and Saviour eating and drinking in the midst of much company (Matthew 11.18-19). I block my ears to those rabid dogs, and, notwithstanding, set my hand to bringing this work to fruition. And I pray, O most holy Virgin, that you may be ever in Christ and mindful of me in your prayers.

The Life [Appears as a separate work in Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Oxford, 1893, not as a letter addressed to anyone in particular. Written probably in 390.]

Chapter I Hilarion came from the village of Thabatha, which is about five miles from the town of Gaza in southern Palestine. Born of parents who worshipped idols, he was the rose among the thorns. They sent him to Alexandria to study with a Grammarian, and the records show that at each stage of his life there he was both clever and well behaved. In short, he was skilled in speaking and popular with all. His belief in the Lord Jesus was greater than anyone's. He took no pleasure in the bloodstained sand and cruelty of the circus, nor in the decadence of the theatres. He was totally committed to the congregation of the Church.

Chapter II Having heard of the celebrated name of Antony, which was being noised abroad among all the peoples of Egypt, he was seized with a desire to live like him and made his way to the desert. Once he had seen him he changed his lifestyle completely. He stayed with Antony for two months, observing his way of life and the integrity of his character. How instant in prayer he was, how humble in his dealings with the brothers, how severe in reproof, how eager in giving encouragement! Not even illness could make him break the accustomed severity of his abstinence from food. But then Hilarion found himself unwilling to put up any longer with the numbers of people coming to Antony seeking help to overcome their passions and various attacks of the demons. He said that as he was a desert dweller it was not right that he should be surrounded by crowds of city people. So Hilarion all the more decided that just as Antony was now a strong man enjoying the rewards of victory, so it behoved him to start as Antony had done. He had not yet done any military service, so he returned to his native land with one or two monks. His parents were now dead, and he gave part of his inheritance to his brothers, setting aside some for the poor, but keeping back nothing for himself, fearing the example of the punishment given to Ananias and Sapphira in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 5.1-5). And he was even more mindful of the words of the Lord: 'He who has not renounced everything he has cannot be my disciple' (Luke 14.33). He was fifteen years old. Stripped of his possessions, clothed only in the armour of Christ, he went along the coast into the desert which begins on the left of the seventh milestone from Maiuma, the market town of Gaza, as you go down to Egypt. This was a dangerous place because of robbers, and his friends and relations had warned him about it, but his way of avoiding death was simply to despise death. Such bravery at such a young age would have been quite unbelievable had it not been for the flame burning in his breast which showed itself in the light of faith sparkling in his eyes. His cheeks were smooth, his body slender and delicate, but he cared not for any discomforts either of cold or of heat.

Chapter III He wore a tunic of sackcloth, with an over-garment of skins which Antony had given him as a parting present, and he also had a rough blanket. He lived in this vast and terrible solitude between the marshes and the sea, subsisting on fifteen figs a day, eaten after sunset. And because, as I have said, it is a region noted for its robbers, there was no one living there. When the devil noticed his presence he agonised about what he might do to convert this young man to himself. 'I shall ascend into the heavens, and set my throne above the stars, and I shall be like unto the Most High' had once been his boast (Isaiah 14.13), but now he could see himself being beaten by a mere boy. To avoid being trampled on, he knew what youthful sin he could tempt him with. He tickled his senses, suggesting how his pubescent body could be aflame with unlooked for pleasures. This little Christian novice was compelled to think about things which he had never thought about before, and a whole parade of ideas flooded through his mind about things of which he had had no experience. He got angry with himself and beat his breast with his fists as if he could drive his thoughts away by physical blows. "You little donkey!" he said to his body, "I'll see to it that you don't trample me underfoot. I'll not give you any barley. Nothing but chaff! I will tame you by means of hunger and thirst, I will weigh you down with heavy burdens, I will subject you to both cold and heat! So you will end up thinking of nothing but food instead of lust!" Every three or four days he maintained life in his gradually weakening body by the juice of herbs and a few figs. He prayed and sang psalms constantly, and cultivated the earth with a mattock, matching the labour of his fasting to the labour of his physical work. He also wove baskets from rushes, in imitation of the monks of Egypt and the saying of the Apostle: 'Whoso will not work, let him not eat' (2 Thessalonians 3.10). His flesh became so dry and wasted that it scarcely cleaved to his bones.

Chapter IV At night he began to hear squalling babies, bleating sheep, bellowing cattle, wailing women, roaring lions, marching armies, and the noise as of an approaching horde of barbarians, striking terror into the heart just from the sound of it, even before coming into sight. But he understood that these were all tricks of the demons, and he flung himself down, making the sign of the cross of Christ on his forehead. Protected by that helmet and by the breastplate of faith he battled all the more strongly as he lay there, looking about here and there, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was so frightening to listen to. Suddenly, without any warning, he could see in the light of the moon a four-wheeled chariot with frenzied horses bearing down upon him. He called on Jesus, and suddenly the whole terrifying spectacle was swallowed up into a hole in the ground before his very eyes. "'The horse and his rider he has cast into the sea'" (Exodus 15.21), he said, "and 'Some put their trust in chariots, some in horses, but we will rejoice in the name of our God' (Psalms 20.7)." Many were his temptations, and various the tricks of the devil, night and day. This book would not be big enough for me to relate them all. How many naked women did he see lying about? How many large banquet tables appeared to him as he fasted? Sometimes a howling wolf and a little barking fox jumped out at him as he prayed; a gladiator fight made a fine show in front of him as he sang psalms, and a slaughtered man fell at his feet, begging for burial. He put his forehead in the dust as he prayed, but he could not concentrate; his mind, following a natural human bent, strayed away to think about I know not what. A charioteer jumped on his back, kicked him in the ribs and belaboured his shoulders with a riding-whip. "Come on!" he shouted. "Gallop! Wake up! You want to get your barley, don't you?"

Chapter V From the age of sixteen till he was twenty the sun and the rain kept on beating down on the little shelter he had made for himself out of reeds and grasses. Then he made a little cell for himself, which remains to this day, four feet wide and five feet high. That was much lower than his own height, though it was a bit longer than his body fully stretched out. As you can imagine, it was more like a coffin than a house. He did cut his hair, to be sure, once a year at Eastertide, but to the day of his death he slept on a bed of rushes laid upon the bare earth. Once he had put his sackcloth on he never washed it. It was quite superfluous to wash your clothes, he said. Nor did he change his other garment until it had been reduced to rags. When not reciting the prayers and psalms as if he were in the presence of God, he kept the holy Scriptures in his mind. But since there is a lot to tell you about his great deeds through all the stages of his life, I will first of all summarise his various regimes for you, before returning to the order of my tale.

Chapter VI From the age of twenty-one to twenty-seven, he ate half a pint of lentils soaked in cold water for the first three years, and dry bread with salt and water for the next three. From twenty-seven to thirty he subsisted on wild herbs and the raw roots of certain bushes. From thirty to thirty-five his food was half a loaf of barley-bread and a little bit of vegetable cooked without any oil. At this point he found that his eyes were becoming misty and his whole body began to burn with a sort of rough and scabrous impetigo, so he added a little oil to his diet and continued in this abstemious regime till the age of sixty-three, with no fruit, no pulse or anything tasty. When he felt that his body was getting weaker and the end of his life was getting near, he gave up bread, so that from his sixty-fourth year till the age of eighty, with incredible strength of mind, it was as if he were coming anew to the service of God, at an age when others begin to be a bit more relaxed. He would make a sort of weak broth of flour mingled with oil, and weight out about five ounces of it, to serve for both food and drink. And he went on like this, never eating before sunset, never relaxing his fasting, not even for holy days or when he was ill.

Chapter VII But now I must return to my story. One night when he was aged eighteen and still living under his rough shelter, a band of robbers came, perhaps because they thought he might have something which they could steal, or else simply because they thought they might be held in contempt if they were not able to instil fear in such a mere boy. They ran about between the sea and the marshes from dusk to sunrise without being able to find where he was sleeping. It was not until the day had dawned that they were able to find him. "What would you do," they asked him, half jokingly, "if robbers came to visit you?" "Nakedness fears no robbery," he replied. "Yes, but you might easily get killed." "Possibly, possibly, but I'm still not afraid of robbers, for I'm quite prepared to die." They could not but admire the firmness of his faith, and after admitting to him how they had been blindly stumbling about all night, they promised to amend their ways in future.

Chapter VIII By the time he was twenty-two years old his reputation was widely known through all the towns of Palestine, including Eleutheropolis, [A town about one day's journey from Jerusalem on the road to Ascalon.] where there was a woman who felt herself to be despised by her husband, because although they had been married for fifteen years she had not borne him any children. She was the first person bold enough to invade the privacy of the blessed Hilarion. Without fear or mistrust she embraced his knees. "Forgive my boldness," she said, "but please listen to my troubles. Why are you looking away? Why try to run away from someone who needs your help? Don't look at me as a woman, but just as someone utterly miserable. Don't forget that it was my sex who gave birth to the Saviour, and 'it is not the healthy who need a physician but the sick' (Mark 2.17)". This was the first time he had seen a woman in all that time, but he stopped resisting and asked her why she had come and why she was weeping. After learning the cause of her distress, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, urged her to have faith, and shed tears himself as she departed. After a year had passed she had a son.

Chapter IX That was the first of the signs he did. A much greater one made him even more widely known. Aristaeneta was the wife of Elpidius who later became commander-in-chief of the praetorian guard. She was highly regarded among their colleagues and even more so among the Christians. She and her husband and three children were returning to Palestine from a visit to Antony when they stopped at Gaza, where her three children all fell ill of a fever and were given up for dead by the doctors. The poor woman wept, inconsolable, running from one son to another, scarcely knowing which one to grieve for first. The disease may have been caused by something in the air, or perhaps (as was afterwards made plain) simply in order that the name of Hilarion, the servant of God, might be glorified. For when she was told that there was a monk in the neighbouring desert, she hardly needed any persuasion from her husband to lay aside all her dignity of state and act simply like a mother. She mounted a mule, and accompanied by servants and eunuchs made her way to Hilarion. "In the name of the cross and blood of Jesus, our most merciful God," she cried to Hilarion, "I beg that God may send the servant of God to Gaza, that my three sons may be restored to me, that the name of the Lord our Saviour may be glorified in that city of the gentiles, and the temples of the ungodly be cast down." "No, I can't do that," he replied. "I never leave my cell. I never go into the villages, let alone the cities." She flung herself to the ground. "Hilarion, servant of God," she cried over and over again, "restore my three sons to me! Antony welcomed us in Egypt. We need you to care for us in Syria." Everyone there dissolved into tears. Hilarion wept in spite of himself. What more can I say? The woman would not go until Hilarion had promised that after sunset he would go into Gaza. When he got there he went to the beds of each one of them, and saw their dry and feverish limbs. He called upon the name of Jesus, and - O marvellous wonder! - sweat burst forth from them like three fountains. Within the hour they had taken food, recognised their grieving mother, and blessing God, had kissed the hands of the holy man. When this became known far and wide, people from Syria and Egypt flocked to him, and many believed in Christ and formed a monastery. For at that time there were no monasteries in Palestine, no monk in Syria before Hilarion. He was the first, the founder and teacher of this way of life in the province. The Lord Jesus had the old man Antony in Egypt; in Palestine he had the young Hilarion.

Chapter X Facidia is a village near the town of Rhinocorura in Egypt. Ten years ago a blind woman was brought from this village to Hilarion by a number of monks who were with her. They told Hilarion that she had spent all her money on doctors. "If you had given to the poor," said the holy man, "what you have spent on doctors, you would have been cured by the true doctor, Jesus." She cried, and begged for mercy, whereupon Hilarion, following the example of the power of the Saviour, spat in her eyes and her sight was restored.

Chapter XI There was a charioteer in Gaza who was struck by a demon so that he could move none of his limbs nor turn his head. He was carried to Hilarion in a litter, the only movement possible for him being that of his tongue which he used to pray for help. He was told that he could not be healed unless he believed in Jesus and promised to give up his former profession. He believed, he promised, he was cured, rejoicing more in the salvation of his soul than in that of his body.

Chapter XII Another example: There was a very strong young man called Marsitas in the region of Jerusalem who had such confidence in his own strength that he was able to carry about three hundred pounds [quindeceim modios A 'modium' equals approximately one peck. A peck of water weighs about 20 lbs] on his shoulders for quite a long time. This would win a prize in a weightlifting contest, as it was more than a beast of burden could carry. This man became infested with a malicious demon; chains, fetters, even locked doors proved no obstacle to him. He attacked many people by biting off their noses or ears, he broke the feet of some, and the jaws of others. Everyone was so terrified of him that they treated him like a wild bull and tied him up with chains and ropes which they wound around him in every possible way. They took him to the monastery where the Brothers took one look at him and were petrified with fear (for he was enormously large), and went to tell the Father [i.e. Hilarion.] about him. He sat down and ordered Marsitas to be brought to him and loosed of his bonds. "Bow your head, and come here," he said. Trembling, the poor wretch bent his head and dared not disobey. All the aggression drained out of him, and he began to lick Hilarion's feet as he sat there. Hilarion spoke words of power to the demon infesting the young man, and twisted it out of him, so that at the end of seven days it had completely departed. Chapter XIII (continued), Life of St Hilarion, Book 1a We must also tell the story of Orion, the wealthy chief citizen of the town of Haila near the Red Sea. Possessed by demons he was brought to Hilarion with chains around his hands, neck, sides and feet, his staring eyes threatening savage violence. The Saint was walking with the Brothers discussing some portion of Scripture, when Orion burst free from the hands of those holding him, ran to the holy Hilarion, grasped him from behind, and lifted him off the ground. Everyone cried out in alarm; they were frightened that he would break Hilarion's bones, weakened as they were by fasting. But the Saint just smiled, lifted his hands above his shoulders, found the man's head, grasped his hair, and pulled him down in front of him, causing both his hands to lose their grasp. He planted the soles of his feet on each side of the man's feet and cried out "Twist yourselves out, you crowd of demons!" he shouted. "Twist yourselves out!" Orion howled, bent his neck and touched the ground with the top of his head. "Lord Jesus!" he cried. "Release me from my misery! You are Lord of one and all!" I tell you now something unheard of: from out of the mouth of this one man issued a multitude of voices, as of a confused crowd of people. And he was cured. Not long after this he came to the monastery with his wife and children to give thanks, bringing a number of gifts. "Haven't you read what happened to Gehazi and Simon?" asked the Saint. "One of them accepted payment for the sake of base reward (2 Kings 5.22-27), the other offered payment to buy the grace of the holy Spirit (Acts 8.18)." "Well, take it and give it to the poor," said Orion, weeping. "You would have done better to distribute your own goods," he replied. "You are familiar with your town. You know who are the poor. As for myself, I have renounced everything. Why should I seek what belongs to someone else? In the eyes of many people the poor are people to be exploited without pity. But you can't do better than to be generous without seeking any benefit for yourself." Orion lay prostrate on the sand, weeping.. "Don't be sad," Hilarion continued. "What I have done was for my own benefit as well as yours. And if I were to accept these gifts, not only would I be offending God, but the legion of devils would return to torment you."

Chapter XIV And who could remain silent about Maiumites of Gaza? He was gathering stones for building from the seashore not very far away from the monastery, when he suddenly became completely paralysed. His working companions carried him to the Saint and he was then able to return to work immediately! Remember also the beach along the border between Palestine and Egypt. Although naturally soft, it had become hardened by the grains of sand solidifying into small stones. But little by little, although it still looked like gravel it no longer felt like gravel.

Chapter XV Thjere was an Italian citizen of Haila, a Christian, who kept horses and chariots to race against those of the two chief citizens of Gaza, a town given to the veneration of the image of Marnas. Marnas (or Consus, the god of secret plans) [Consus was also the god of agricultural fertility. The festival of the Consuelia, supposed to have been instituted by Romulus, was on August 31] .had been venerated in Roman towns since the time of Romulus, who won victory over the Sabines and seized their women, by means of his chariots racing round them seven times and overcoming the horses of the enemy. This Italian's rival used an evil magician, who by demonic incantations slowed down the Italian's horses, while improving the performance of his own. The Italian came to the blessed Hilarion, begging for help, not to cause injury to his opponent but to seek a defence against his spells. "Wouldn't it be better to sell your horses," said Hilarion with a smile, "and give the money to the poor for the sake of your own salvation?" "But the horses are state property," he replied. "I can't deal with them as I want, but only as I am told. And as a Christian man I can't make use of magic arts. I prefer to seek help from a servant of Christ, especially against the people of Gaza who are the enemies of God, not for my own sake so much as for the sake of the Church of Christ which they revile." Hilarion asked the Brothers present for the clay beaker which he usually drank from, filled it with water and gave it to the Italian, who took it away and sprinkled it over the stable, the horses, the charioteers, the chariots, and the bars of the starting gates. His rival made a great joke out of this, much to the excited interest of the people, for he publicly promised victory for himself and failure for the Italian. The signal was given, the Italian's horses flew like the wind and the wheels of their chariots were just a blur, the other horses struggled to keep up and were left far behind. The crowd gave vent to a great shout, with even the opponents joining in: MARNAS HAS BEEN BEATEN BY CHRIST! The losing team were furious and demanded that Hilarion, the Christian magician, should be punished. But it could not be denied that the victory here, and in many Circuses thereafter, brought many people to the faith.

Chapter XVI In the market town of Gaza a young man was madly in love with his neighbour, a virgin of God. He tried various tactics, jokes, nods and whistles, and other such things by which it is hoped to make a conquest of someone's virginity, but to no avail. So he went to Memphis, where he hoped to be able to tell someone of his problem and go back to the virgin armed by magic arts. He spent a year under the tutelage of the priests of Aesculapius, which rather sent him further towards perdition than made him into a better person. Glorying in the disgraceful course upon which he had embarked, he pushed lascivious letters and suggestive images inscribed on sheets of Cyprian copper under the virgin's door, which inflamed her on the spot, so that she stripped off her head covering, cried piteously and gnashed her teeth while calling out the young man's name. The strength of her passion had turned her raving mad. Her parents brought her to the old man at the monastery, where the demon in her immediately howled and gave himself away. "I can't put up with this," it shouted. "I have been carried off here against my will, just when I was beautifully deceiving humans with the dreams of Memphis. O the pains, the tortures I am suffering! You are trying to drive me out, but I am beholden to none except those very spells and charms which were put under the door. I cannot go out unless commanded by the one who put me in here." "How exceedingly bold you are!" said Hilarion. "And yet you admit you are controlled by those spells and charms. Tell me, why did you dare to enter this child of God?" "To be a servant to that virgin." "You, a servant? Protector of chastity, are you? Why not rather enter the one who sent you?" "How could I enter him, when he already had my colleague the love-demon in him?" Now the Saint had set his face against curing the virgin or the young man by attempting to order the demons out by dramatic actions, lest it should appear that he was using incantations himself and accommodating his faith to suit the words of the demons. The demons were masters of deceit, he said, and extremely skilled in dissimulation. Instead he restored the virgin to sanity by scolding her, and making her see what it was in her that had enabled the demon to gain entry.

Chapter XVII His fame began to spread further, not only in Palestine and the neighbouring cities of Egypt and Syria, but also into distant provinces. For the Emperor Constantine had among his staff a tutor, with the red hair and fair complexion that showed where he came from (for he was one of the Saxons or Alamanni, called Germanics in the past, but now Franks). From an early age he had been possessed by a demon which at night compelled him to howl and groan and gnash his teeth. He quite frankly told the Emperor about this and asked for leave of absence, which was granted to him. He was given letters of introduction to the Consul in Palestine, from where he was conducted with great honour and a large retinue to Gaza. There he asked the local senators how to find Hilarion. They were absolutely terrified, thinking he had been specially sent by the Emperor, but took him to the monastery, showing him every respect in the hope that if the Emperor had taken offence at any past insults to Hilarion, they might be able to atone for them by their new-found attentiveness. Hilarion was walking about on the sand, saying some psalms. Seeing this large crowd coming towards him he stood still. They all greeted each other and he blessed them. After an hour he told everyone to go away except the tutor, his personal servants, and clerical staff. He could tell by looking at his eyes and face why he had come. He asked him why nevertheless, and the tutor sprang up on tiptoe and answered with a great roar in the Syrian language - and you would have heard someone who knew only Frankish and Latin speaking pure Syrian, with not an accent, not an aspirate, not a Palestinian idiom out of place in his speech! The unclean spirit then confessed in that language the means by which he had gained entry, but so that the interpreters who knew both Greek and Latin would understand, Hilarion asked him to speak in Greek. "Many spells and incantations were needed," confessed the spirit, "and I needed the services of many magic arts." "I don't much care how you got in," replied Hilarion, "but I command that you now go, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." He was cured, and with a kind of rustic simplicity he offered Hilarion ten pounds of gold. Hilarion immediately offered him some barley bread. "Anyone content with barley bread," said Hilarion, "has no more use for gold than for mud."

Chapter XVIII So much for talking about humans, it was unmanageable brute beasts also who were brought to him daily. One such animal was an enormous Bactrian camel who had injured many people. It took thirty men or more to restrain it with strong ropes and bring it to Hilarion. Its eyes were bloodshot, it frothed at the mouth, its swollen tongue rolled about, and its ear-splitting roar struck terror into all around. The old man ordered it to be untied. To a man, they all fled, those who had brought it as well as those who were with Hilarion, till there was only Hilarion standing in front of it. "You devil in such a great shapeless mass," said Hilarion, "you don't frighten me! Camels and little foxes (Song of Songs 2.15) are, after all, exactly the same." And he just stood there, with his hand stretched out. The raging beast rushed towards him, as if about to devour him, then suddenly stopped and lowered its head to the ground, to the astonishment of all the onlookers that such a fierce beast could be reduced to such gentleness. "It is because of human beings that the devil can corrupt even the beasts of burden," Hilarion told them. "The devils are filled with such hatred of human beings that they long to destroy not only them but also everything that belongs to them. As evidence of this, note that before the devil was allowed to put Job to the test he destroyed everything he possessed (Job 1.12). And let no one object that it was by order of the Lord himself that two thousand swine were sent to their death by the devils (Mark 5.13). For those who witnessed the event would not have been convinced that so many demons could have been expelled out of one man unless an equal number of swine had all perished together as if each one were being individually driven."

Chapter XIX Time does not allow me to narrate all the signs done by this man. God gave him so much glory that when the blessed Antony heard about him he wrote to him, and was delighted to receive letters from him in return. And if anyone from the Syrian regions brought their troubles to Antony he would say to them, "Why have you taken the trouble to make such a long journey, when you have got my son Hilarion so close to you?" Following Hilarion's example monasteries were springing up everywhere throughout the whole of Palestine, and zealous monks were flocking to them. When Hilarion recognised this he praised the grace of God and urged that each soul should make progress, reminding them that this world is passing away (1 Corinthians 7.31), but that the true life could only be purchased by doing violence to our lives in this world. He set an example of humility and service by visiting the cells of all the brothers on certain set days before the grape harvest. When his own Brothers realised what he was doing they joined in with him, and they visited all the monasteries, each one taking with him food for the journey. Sometimes there would be as many as two thousand men gathered together. And as time went on each little hamlet would offer food to the monks, glad to cast in their lot with the Saints.

Chapter XX He was so conscientious that no brother, however humble, however poor, was overlooked. So it happened that as he was on his way to visit a brother living in the desert of Kadesh, he and a great company of monks entered the town of Eleusa on a day when by chance the whole population were gathered together in the temple of Venus for an annual feast in honour of Lucifer, whom the whole Saracen nation worshipped. (This town was generally regarded as being semibarbarous, because of its isolated locality.) Now many of the Saracens there had been delivered from demons by Hilarion, and when they heard that he was there they all rushed to see him, along with their wives and children. They bent their heads before him crying 'Barech', that is, 'Bless', He received them all gently and humbly, and urged them to worship the true God rather than stone idols. Weeping freely, he gazed up to heaven and assured them that if they believed in Christ he would surely come to them. And by the marvellous grace of God, before he was permitted to continue on his way they had marked out a site for a future church, and their Priest was signed with the cross as though he was being crowned.

Chapter XXI In another year, when about to go out to visit the monasteries, they were drawing up a list of whom they could stay with and whom they would simply visit in passing, when some of the monks suggested that they stay with a certain brother whom they knew to be rather niggardly, hoping thereby to cure him of his fault. "Why are you showing yourselves up in such a bad light," asked Hilarion, "in your desire to irritate your brother?" The brother in question understood what was being said, blushed furiously and somewhat unwillingly was overcome by the force of public opinion and asked for his name to be put on the list of places where the visitors might stay. When they arrived at his place on the tenth day, they found that there were guards on his vineyard armed with slings and stones and clods of earth to keep off intruders, as if it belonged to somebody else. Without picking any grapes they departed the next day, but Hilarion had a slight smile on his lips, pretending not to know what was going on. And when they went to the next monk whose name was Sabas (we don't mind naming him as he was generous, though we would not dream of naming the niggardly one), they were all invited into the vineyard to refresh themselves with some grapes after the trials of their journey. Now it was Sunday and long before the usual hour for taking food. "We can't approve of refreshing the body before seeing to the needs of the soul," said Hilarion. "Let us pray, let us sing psalms, let us offer God service, and then let us enjoy your hospitality." When the service was over, he stood by the vineyard and blessed it and dismissed his flock to their pasture. There must have been at least three thousand of them. The usual estimate for this vineyard was that it would produce a hundred bottles, but on the twentieth day after this it was found to have produced three hundred! The niggardly brother was accustomed to producing much less, but he was distressed to find that even what he had produced had turned to vinegar. And this is what Hilarion had predicted to many of the brothers beforehand.

Chapter XXII What he detested above all was the way some monks lacked faith in their future, and saved up their possessions, worrying too much about how much their clothing was going to cost, or any other such transitory worldly item. So he ceased to look kindly upon one of the monks, who lived about five miles away, because he knew that this monk had acted far too timidly and cautiously in the management of his little garden, through which he had saved up a little bit of money. This monk wanted to be restored to the old man's favour. He often visited the brothers, especially Hesychius, of whom he was very fond, so one day he brought with him a packet of green chickpeas which Hesychius put on the table as part of the evening meal. "This stuff smells absolutely rotten," exclaimed the old man. "Where did it come from?" "A brother brought it as a gift of first fruits for the monastery," replied Hesychius. "Can't you smell how terribly rotten it is?" he asked. "And what these chickpeas stink of is avarice! Give it to the oxen, give it to the brute beasts, and see whether they will eat it." He did as he was told and put it in the manger. The oxen were terrified, lowed unusually loudly, broke their tethers and fled. The old man had this gift of being able to tell from the smell of anyone's body or clothing or anything that he had touched what sort of demon or vice was lurking underneath.

Chapter XXIII In the sixty-third year of his life he looked about him and saw this great monastery and the large number of brothers living with him, and saw how many of them had attracted to themselves various degenerate and unclean spirits. The desert round about was filled with all kinds of people, so that he wept daily and was filled with an overwhelming nostalgia for his earliest way of life. The brothers asked him what was the matter, what was troubling him. "I have returned to the world," he said, " and I have received my reward in this life. All Palestine and the neighbouring provinces think I am somebody important, and I, under the excuse of building a monastery for the use of the brothers, possess a large mansion and everything that goes with it." The brothers tended him with extra care, especially Hesychius, whose veneration and love for him knew no bounds.

Chapter XXIV After he had mourned like that for two years Aristaeneta came to visit him. She was the wife of the Prefect whom we have already mentioned, [See Chapter IX, above] though without the Prefect's vaunting ambition. She told Hilarion that she was intending to visit Antony. "That is where I would like to go, too," he said, weeping, "if I weren't held prisoner shut up in this monastery, and if it were any use to do so. For in two days' time the world will be deprived of this great father." She believed him and went no further. In a few days someone brought the news that Antony had indeed fallen asleep.

Chapter XXV Marvellous were the signs and portents which he did, marvellous his incredible abstinence, his knowledge, his humility. I am never so overcome with amazement as when I think how he was completely unaffected by all the glory and honour paid to him. For bishops flocked to him, presbyters, crowds of clerics and monks, Christian matrons (a great source of temptation!), crowds of ordinary people from the towns and countryside, judges and people in high places, all wanting to receive from him a portion of blessed bread or oil. But he thought continually of nothing else but solitude. One day he suddenly made up his mind to set out. He saddled an ass and set out on his journey (for he was so wasted by fasting that he could hardly walk). When it was rumoured about that he was leaving Palestine for the desert vastness, more than ten thousand people of all ages and sexes gathered together in an attempt to stop him. He was unmoved by their prayers as he talked with them, stirring up the sand with his staff. "I will not make God a liar," (1 John 1.10) he said, "but I shall not see the overthrow of the Churches, the altars broken, or the blood of my sons." Those who heard him say this understood that some secret message had been revealed to him which he did not want to reveal in total, but nevertheless they surrounded him to prevent him going on any further. In a loud voice he argued with them, saying that he would take no food or drink until they let him pass. After seven days, growing weaker because of his fasting he was allowed to say farewell to most of them and move on to the town of Bethelia, still accompanied by quite a crowd. There he succeeded in persuading the crowds to turn back, but chose forty monks to stay with him who carried with them food for the journey and who were practised in fasting, that is, refraining from food till after sunset.

Chapter XXV (continued), Life of St Hilarion, Book 1a On the fifth day he arrived at Pelusium and visited the Brothers in a neighbouring desert place called Lychnos. Three days later he arrived at the fortress of Thebatum where he saw Dracontius, the bishop and confessor who was in exile there. He was incredibly delighted at meeting such a great man. After another three days he arrived at Babylon, where he met bishop Philo, who was also a confessor. They had both been exiled to these places by the Emperor Constantius, who favoured the Arian heresy. Two days after leaving there he got to the town of Aphroditos, where he met up with the deacon Baisanes. Here he obtained camels, the only possible means of transport through the waterless desert, for he now told his brothers that he intended to observe the anniversary of Antony's death by keeping a night's vigil in the place where he died. After three further days in the vast and horrible wilderness he arrived at Antony's high mountain where he found two monks, Isaac and Pelusianus, Antony's interpreter.

Chapter XXVI Now that we have got to this point in our story, and the occasion presents itself, it seems right to describe briefly the place where the great man lived. It is a rocky mountain about a mile high, with a spring of water at the base of it. Some of the water soaks away into the sand, but the rest of it falls away to form a small stream. On either bank there are a great number of palm trees, lending charm to the place as well as usefulness. Antony's disciples took the old man with them here and there to show him everything. "This is where he would sing his psalms", they said, "here he would pray, here work, here he would rest when tired. These vines he planted himself, as well as these little trees. He made this garden bed with his own hands. Much sweat went into the making of this pond, which irrigates his little garden. And here is the hoe which he used for many years to cultivate the ground with." Hilarion lay down on Antony's bed, and embraced the covers as if they were still warm. This was in a little cell, square-shaped, just big enough for a man to stretch out in and lie down. There were two other cells of the same size at the top of the mountain, which could only be reached by climbing up like a snail with a great deal of effort. Antony used to escape here to get away from visitors and the common life of his disciples. These cells had been cut out of the living rock, though extra porchways had been added on. The disciples then led him to the orchard. "See these fruit-bearing trees in the midst of the others?" said Isaac. "About three years ago a herd of wild donkeys caused great damage to them. Antony ordered the leader of them to stand still, belaboured him with his stick and asked it how it dared to eat that which it had not sowed. After that they often came to drink from the stream but never touched the trees or the fruit." Hilarion asked them if they could show him Antony's burial place. They came a little closer to him and said it was not possible either to show him or not to show him, for in accordance with Antony's instructions, the grave was kept secret to prevent a local very rich man called Pergamius from coming to take the body to his villa and making a martyr's shrine for it.

Chapter XXVII He returned to Aphroditos, and, keeping only two of the brothers with him, remained nearby in the desert for a while, using such abstinence and silence as if he were only just beginning to serve Christ. The surrounding country had been suffering from a drought for the previous three years, and the people said that even the elements were mourning the death of Antony. Hilarion's fame was well known to the farmers round about, and both men and women, their lips bloodless and their bodies wasted with hunger, urgently begged the servant of Christ, as the successor of the blessed Antony, to pray for rain. Seeing their plight, Hilarion was filled with compassion, and raising his eyes to heaven and stretching out both his hands he immediately prayed for what they had asked. The rains fell on the dry and thirsty land, suddenly bringing forth a multitude of serpents and poisonous beasts, which bit a great number of people. If they had not run immediately to Hilarion for help they would have died, for he anointed the wounds of the shepherds and farmers with blessed oil and restored them to health.

Chapter XXVIII He was showered with praise as a result, so he fled to Alexandria, intending to go on from there to the desert of Oasis [About 40 miles west of Alexandria]. But since he had never stayed in a city in all the time since he had become a monk, he went on to certain brothers whom he knew in Bruchium, not far from Alexandria, who received him with great joy. It was not long before night began to fall, when they suddenly saw Hilarion's disciples saddling the donkey and preparing for departure. They fell at Hilarion's feet, begging him not to go. They lay down across their doorway, saying that they would rather die than be held guilty of such a grievous lack of hospitality. "I was just thinking that I had better move on," said Hilarion, "lest I cause you a great deal of trouble. Future events will show you that I was right to leave so suddenly." He knew that next day people would come from Gaza with the Prefect's lictors and search the monastery looking for him. "Isn't it true what we have heard about him?" they said, when the found no trace of him. "He is a magician, and can tell the future!" For after Hilarion had left Palestine Julian had succeeded as Emperor, and the people of Gaza had destroyed his monastery and begged the new Emperor that Hilarion and Hesychius be put to death. It was decreed that both should be sought for throughout the whole world. But he had already left Bruchium and set out for Oasis through the trackless desert. He stayed there for about a year, but even there his fame had preceded him. There seemed to be nowhere in the East where he could hide, and he considered the possibility of sailing to some desert island. Even though there was nowhere to hide on land, he thought that perhaps the sea might be able to conceal him.

Chapter XXIX But just then Hadrianus his disciple came from Palestine, saying that Julian had been killed, [363 AD. The new Emperor was Jovian]. that a Christian Emperor now reigned, and that he ought to return to what was left of his monastery. But Hilarion would hear none of it, and instead went westward on a camel to the seaside town of Paretonium in Libya, where Hadrianus, in an ill-fated desire to return to Palestine, betrayed Hilarion grievously. For he thought to acquire for himself some of the glory which had earlier belonged to his master, and packed up all the goods which the brothers had put in his care and set off without Hilarion's knowledge. This is a convenient place for me to relate something which might strike terror into the hearts of those who do not respect their masters, for it was not long after this that Hadrianus was stricken with jaundice.

Chapter XXX He still had with him Zananus, and together they took ship for Sicily, knowing he could pay for the passage by selling a copy of the Gospels, which he had copied out himself as a young man. In the middle of the Adriatic the captain's son was possessed by a demon and began to shout loudly: "Hilarion, servant of God, why can't we even be safe from you in the middle of the sea? Give me a bit of breathing space till we get to land, lest you cast me out and I fall into the abyss." "If my God allows you to stay," said Hilarion, "well, stay! But if he casts you out, why should you blame me, penniless sinner that I am?" He said this to discourage the sailors, as well as the merchants who were aboard, from handing him over when they got to land. The boy was purged of the demon not long after that, and his father and the others who were there gave their word that that they would not mention his name to anyone at a later date. When they docked at Cape Pachynum in Sicily he offered the Gospel to the captain as payment for his passage, but he would not accept it, especially as he could see that apart from that book and the clothes they stood up in they possessed absolutely nothing. But the old man was quite happy to put his faith in being poor, rejoicing all the more in possessing nothing of this world, and that he should be thought a beggar by those he came into contact with. On the other hand he feared lest the merchants from the East might make his name known, so he fled from the coast twenty miles away to a lonely spot where he collected bundles of wood each day and loaded up his disciple with them. By selling these in a nearby village he was able to provide for his needs and also offer a little bread to anyone who might come to him.

Chapter XXXI But, indeed, as it is written in Scripture, 'a city set on a hill cannot be hidden' (Matthew 5.14). A certain Scutarius, tormented by a demon, cried out in the basilica of the blessed Peter in Rome, "A few days ago Hilarion, the servant of Christ, arrived in Sicily and no one recognised him. He thought he was safe, but I am going there to reveal where he is." Accompanied by a youthful retinue, he straightaway went to the harbour and took ship for Pachymum, where, driven by the demon, he prostrated himself outside Hilarion's dwelling. Hilarion immediately cured him. This beginning of signs in Sicily prompted a great multitude of sick people to seek him out, as well as many of the ordinary faithful. Among the first who came to him was one suffering from dropsy, who was cured on that same day. He offered to reward the Saint with a large gift, only to hear him repeat the saying of the Saviour: 'Freely have you received, freely give' (Matthew 10.8).

Chapter XXXII While this had been going on in Sicily, his disciple Hesychius had been searching everywhere trying to find him. He searched the coasts and he went into the deserts, buoyed up by the conviction that wherever Hilarion went he could not possibly go unnoticed. After three years' wandering he heard from a Jew in Messina, 'a city selling the people cheap trash', [Horace, Letters 1.vii] that a Christian prophet had appeared in Sicily, doing so many signs and miracles that he was thought to be one of the Saints of old time. But he was unable to get any answers to his questions about how he was dressed, how old he was, what language he spoke or his means of travel. His informant could tell him only that a great number of people had mentioned his fame to him. Hesychius went to Adria and took a quick passage to Pachynum, where in all the little villages along the coast he heard about the old man's fame. Everyone he spoke to knew where he was and what he was doing, and were never so full of admiration for him as for his not accepting from anybody in any of those places so much as a crust of bread by way of a reward for his many signs and miracles.

Chapter XXXIII To cut a long story short, the holy Hesychius fell on his knees before the Master, watering his feet with his tears. The old man lifted him up and they spoke together for two or three days, until Zananus told Hesychius that the old man could no longer live in these parts, but wanted to go to some of the more barbarian places where his name and reputation were unknown. So they went to Epidaurus, a town in Dalmatia, but after having lived in a quiet little spot near the town for a few days, he found he could no longer remain hidden away. For a beast of enormous size was laying the district waste. The local people called these beasts 'cattlers' [boas] because they were able to swallow up cattle [boves] in one gulp. It could devour not only plough oxen and store cattle but also farmers and shepherds, who were irresistibly dragged towards it by the fascination of its power. Hilarion caused a pyre to be built, prayed to Christ, summoned the beast and made it ascend to the top of the pile of wood. And then, as all the people looked on, he set fire to the pyre and cremated the enormous beast. He began to wonder what he should do next, and where he should turn to, and prepared to flee once more, wanting desperately to be able to wander the earth alone, regretting that people were already spreading the news about how he had performed a miracle without even saying anything at all. In the tempestuous earthquake which followed the death of Julian, the sea burst its bounds as if God were threatening the whole world with another flood, or reducing everything to a state of primeval chaos. Ships were smashed and carried up on to the hillsides where they were left stranded. The people of Epidaurus were terrified that the size and violent movement of the waves with their mountainous whirlpools would suck away the beaches, and they were frightened that the foundations of the town would be washed away, which they had already seen happen once before. They ran to the old man, and made him go to the seashore, in the very forefront of the battle. He made the sign of the cross three times in the sand and stretched out his hands. Incredible to relate, a high and swelling wall of water stopped still in front of him, and gradually subsided back into itself. To this day, the people of Epidaurus, and the whole region round about, talk about this event. Mothers tell their children about it, and so the memory of it is transmitted to posterity. What was said to the Apostles is absolutely true: 'If you have faith you shall say to this mountain, be cast into the sea, and it shall be done' (Matthew 17.20). This can be fulfilled quite literally, if anyone has faith such as that which the Lord commanded that the Apostles should have. There is not a great deal of difference, after all, between a mountain being removed into the sea, and, on the other hand, mountainous waves suddenly being arrested and gently subsiding in front of the rock-like presence of one old man. The whole region wondered, and this remarkable sign was noised abroad as far as Salon.

Chapter XXXIV When the old man realised this, he fled by night, and after two days boarded a merchant ship going to Cyprus. When they were half way between the islands of Malea and Cythera, pirates left the shore in two fast warships, sweeping the waves with their oars, striking fear into the occupants of the merchant ship. They wept, they ran about panic-stricken, they prepared what weapons they had, and cried out to Hilarion that pirates were coming, as if he did not know already. He had already seen them in the distance, smiled, and said to his disciples, "'O ye of little faith, what are you frightened of?' (Matthew 8.26). Are these greater than the armies of Pharaoh? Yet by the will of God they were all drowned" (Exodus 14.27). As he was speaking the hostile ships with foaming prows were only a stone's throw away. But he stood in the bows of the ship, and thrust his hand out towards them. "Thus far and no farther!" he shouted. Miracle of faith! The ships stopped, and quite contrary to the movement of the oars, began to go backwards. The pirates were stunned. They had no desire to go back to shore, but in spite of everything they could do, toiling away trying to make the ships go forward, they went back more quickly than they had come.

Chapter XXXV I pass over the rest of the voyage, lest my narrative get too big for one volume. Suffice it to say that they sailed safely past the Cyclades, from whence they heard the voices of unclean spirits arising from the towns and villages, spreading down even as far as the coast, and arrived at last at the port of Paphus in Cyprus, a town celebrated in the songs of the poets. Here they saw the ruins of what once used to be, destroyed by the frequency of the earthquakes, and took up a humble existence about two miles from the city, rejoicing greatly at being able to remain in silence for a few days. But not twenty full days later, anyone throughout the whole island who was possessed by unclean spirits began to shout: "Hilarion the servant of Christ is here!" and felt compelled to seek him out. The people of Salamina, Cyrium, Lapetha and other towns all had the same cry, some of them shouting that they themselves were Hilarion, the servant of God, without knowing where he really was! Nevertheless, before a month had passed there were already about two hundred people, both men and women, gathered about him. He gazed at them, grieving that he was not being allowed to stay in silence, but nevertheless did violence to his own inclinations by belabouring them with urgent prayer, such that some of them were cured immediately, some within two or three days, and all of them by the end of a week.

Chapter XXXVI He stayed there for two years, constantly wondering where he could fly to next. He sent Hesychius to Palestine to send greetings to the brothers and inspect the ashes of his monastery, telling him to return in Spring. When Hesychius returned, Hilarion then thought of going to Bucolia in Egypt, for the reason that there were no Christians there, only a wild and barbarous people, but Hesychius persuaded him it would be better simply to go to a more secret spot without leaving the island. He searched about in many directions, and at last took Hilarion to a place about twelve miles inland among steep and deserted mountains which it was hardly possible to climb up on hands and knees. Once there he could take comfort in being in a remote and daunting environment, surrounded by trees, and yet with a stream flowing down from the upper slopes, an area which had obviously once been cultivated and had fruit bearing trees in abundance - from which however he never picked any fruit! There were the ruins of an ancient temple nearby, from which numberless voices of demons emanated night and day, so much so that you might have thought an army was approaching (so he said, and his disciples bore this out). Being able to battle against the enemy at such close quarters pleased him, and he stayed there five years, with Hesychius keeping a constant eye on him. In this last phase of his life he was able to refocus himself, for only very rarely was anyone willing and able to seek him out because of the severe difficulties involved in getting there. Besides which the ordinary people were convinced that the place was haunted by ghosts.

Chapter XXXVII One day he went out into the garden and found a man totally paralysed lying just outside. He asked Hesychius who he was and how he had got there. "He is the bailiff of this estate," he replied, "which includes the garden we are in." Hilarion wept and stretched out his hand. "In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ," he said, stand up and walk!" Amazing speed! The words had hardly come out of his mouth before the man's limbs regained their strength and enabled him to stand up. After this became widely known, many people in need refused to let a difficult and trackless journey deter them, and they found that there was nothing about the place which would enable him to escape from them. He began to drop hints that he would not be able to stay there much longer, not because of any thoughtless, childish pique, but because he shunned popularity, which he hated. He never desired anything other than to live humbly and in silence.

Chapter XXXVIII In the eightieth year of Hilarion's age, while Hesychius was away, he wrote with his own hand a letter by way of making a will, leaving Hesychius everything he possessed, that is, a book of the Gospels, a sackcloth tunic, a cowl and a cloak. He became very ill, and many religious men came from Paphus to see him, many of whom heard him say that he was about to depart to the Lord, liberated from the chains of the flesh. A certain holy woman called Constantia, whose niece Hilarion had saved from death by anointing her with oil, urged them all not to delay for a minute after his death before covering him with earth in the garden, clothed in his hairshirt, his cowl and his sackcloth. While there was still a little warmth left in his body, and before his living human senses had departed from him, he opened his eyes and spoke: "Go, what have you to fear?" he said. "Go, my soul, why do you hesitate? Nearly seventy years you have served Christ, how can you be frightened of death?" With these words he gave up his spirit. He was buried at once in the earth, before the news of his death was announced in the city. When the holy Hesychius heard in Palestine, he hurried back to Cyprus, making out that he wanted to live in that same garden, in order to ease the plight of a faithful farmer who in great peril of his life had been guarding it, and had concealed the body there for nearly ten months. He took it back to Maiuma, in the presence of a great crowd of monks and townspeople, where he laid him to rest in his old monastery, clothed in his old ragged tunic and cowl and sackcloth. His body was as incorrupt as if he were still alive, and gave off a sweet smell as if he had been anointed with perfumes.

Chapter XXXIX As this little book draws to a close I must not keep silent about the devotion of that holy woman Constantia. When she was told the news that the body of Hilarion was in Palestine, the breath left her body, showing her love for the servant of God even in death. For she had been accustomed to spending nights in vigil as if present at his tomb, talking to him as if he were present and begging for his prayers. Even today, there is still a great rivalry between the Palestinians and the Cyprians, the former boasting of his body, but the latter quite certain that it was they who possessed his spirit. And yet it is in both places that great signs are to be seen daily, but especially in that little garden in Cyprus, a place which perhaps he had loved above all.







Life No 4, Book 1a The Life of Saint Malchus, (Also St Onuphrius, further down page) [Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on October 21. This Life appears in Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers, op.cit. not as a letter addressed to anyone in particular. Written probably in 391.] Monk and Captive by Jerome, presbyter

Prologue Sailors contemplating a naval battle first of all steer their ship into the calm waters of a harbour, ship the oars, get the grappling hooks ready, arrange the troops in order, take up their station, accustom themselves to stand firm as the ship glides on, so that what they learn in a simulated battle will hold no fears for them when it comes to the real thing. So, seeing that I have been silent for a long time (for the person who complained about my writings made me keep silent), I thought perhaps I might get in some practice, by writing just a brief article, before engaging in a longer history. If the Lord gives me time, and if my enemies won't follow me now that I am a fugitive and enclosed in a monastery, I plan to cover events from the coming of the Saviour until the present age, that is, from the Apostles to the latest minute of our time, how and by whom the Church was born and nourished, how it suffered under persecutions and has been crowned with martyrs, after which we come to the age of Christian princes, greater in power and riches, but meaner in virtues. But that can await another time. [This project apparently never came to fruition, though doubtless these Lives would have formed part of it.] For the present, let us do as we have just said.

The Life Chapter I Maronias is a quite unimportant little village about thirty miles to the east of Antioch in Syria. When I was a youth in Syria it used to be ruled by many different masters or patrons until it came into the possession of Pope Evagrius, [Bishop of Antioch at that time, well known to Jerome.] a necessary move in my opinion. I mention this to prove how I know the details of what I am writing about. In those days there was an old man called Malchus, of Syrian nationality and language and, as I understand, a native of that place. I suppose in the Latin language 'Malchus' would become 'King'. There was an old woman who was associated with him, very infirm, not far away from death, as it seemed, and both of them were very devout in their religious practices. They spent so much time in the church that you would have thought they were another Zacharias and Elisabeth as described in the Gospel (Luke 1.5), except that there wasn't any John in evidence. I asked some of the local people about them, curious about their links with each other, whether they were actually married, or related, or just soul-mates. Everyone I asked declared with one voice that they were holy and pleasing to God and had done who knows how many miracles. Devoured with curiosity I went to see the man himself, hoping to find out the truth of the matter. This is what he told me:

Chapter II I was born in the hamlet of Nisibenus, the only child of my parents. Because I was the heir and the only hope of the family name continuing, they wanted me to marry, but I told them that I would rather become a monk. My father threatened me, my mother tried to soft-soap me into losing my virginity, which resulted in my running away from both home and family. I could not go east to Persia because it was occupied by the Roman army, so I went west, carrying with me a little food to keep me from starvation. I arrived at length at a desert near Chalcidos [a town in Syria], between Beroea and Imma, and slightly to the south of them. Here I found some monks, and I gave myself over into their governance, earning my bread by the labour of my hands and curbing my youthful lusts by fasting.

Chapter III Many years later, thoughts of returning to my native land began to come into my mind, for I had heard that my father had died, though my mother was still alive. I thought I might care for her in her widowed state, and eventually sell the property, give some to the poor, build a monastery with some and keep enough to live on. How I blush to confess this faithlessness! My Abbot objected that this was a temptation of the devil. It was an occasion of sin presented by the ancient enemy under the guise of a good intention. It would be like a dog returning to his own vomit (Proverbs 26.11). Many monks were deceived in this way, for the devil never betrayed anyone by a frontal attack. He put many examples from Scripture before me, Adam and Eve to start with (Genesis 3.5), who were brought down by expecting to become gods. When he could not dissuade me by argument he went down on his knees and begged me not to desert him, not to lose my own soul, for, having put my hand to the plough, I ought not to look back (Luke 9.62). Miserable wretch that I am, the worst possible course of action won the day, for I thought he was simply seeking his own advantage, not my own welfare at all. He followed me out of the monastery as if he were at a funeral paying his last respects. "I see you, my son," he cried, "caught up in the snares of the devil. I brook no argument, I accept no excuses. He who leaves the sheepfold can expect to get bitten by wolves!"

ChapterIV On the way from Beroea to Edessa, the public pathway passes through a deserted region, where the Saracens emerge from various hidden dens to make raids here and there. The risk they pose leads travellers to band together in these places, in order to minimise the danger. In the group that I was with there were men, women, old and young, as well as little children, to the number of about seventy. Suddenly there appeared a band of half naked Ishmaelites, riding camels and horses, wearing headbands, trailing long scarves behind them, quiverfuls of arrows hanging from their shoulders, and waving long bows and spears. They had come not to kill but to rob. They seized us, divided us up into small groups, and carried us off in various different directions. So there was I, already repenting of my plans, heir to a considerable property, finding my only inheritance was to be slavery, in which I found my chance companion was to be a young woman. We were led, or rather carried on camels, through a vast desert, hanging on to them rather than just sitting on them, frightened of falling off. Our food was half-cooked meat, our drink camel's milk. We came at last to a wide river, over which we crossed to an inner desert, where, according to their custom, we were made to bow our heads before their leader, who was a woman, and her children. We had to learn how to accept that we were prisoners, with different clothing, that is, we were left almost bare, apart from a loincloth, such was the climate of the place. I was put in charge of keeping the sheep, which was a great comfort to me in my misfortune, for it meant that I saw my masters and fellow slaves only rarely. It seemed to me that I had something in common with holy Jacob (Genesis 29). I also remembered Moses, both of whom in former times tended cattle in the desert. I was fed on cheese and milk. I prayed diligently, I sang the psalms which I had learned in the monastery. I began to enjoy my captivity, and I was glad of the judgment of God, in that the monastic life which I have been about to lose in my native land I had found again in the desert.

Chapter V But one is never safe from the devil. O, the multiplicity and unexpectedness of his tricks! A malicious disaster was lying in wait for me. Now I had been following the precepts of the Apostle by faithfully serving my master as I would God (Ephesians 6.5, Colossians 3.22), and when my master saw that his flock was flourishing and that there was no deceit in me, he decided to reward me by giving me the woman with whom I had been taken captive. Now this woman's husband had also been taken captive, but had been given to a different master. So I refused his gift, telling him that as a Christian it was not lawful for me to have the wife of a man still living. My master changed in an instant from someone magnanimous to someone in a rage, and came at me with drawn sword. If I had not hastily taken the woman's gentle hand, blood would have flowed. A deeper darkness, gloomier than ever, had come upon me. I was forced to take my new wife into my rough shelter, both of us filled with misery rather than nuptial joy, each of us detesting the other, neither of us speaking. Now I felt the full force of my captivity, and I threw myself on the ground and mourned the monastic life which I had lost. "How did I get into this miserable plight? Is this what my sins have brought me to, that I, a virgin, should now have my hair grow grey as a husband? If I do that now, what point was there in giving up parents, native land and family life for the sake of the Lord? For I gave those things up for the very purpose of not following that course. Perhaps it is because I gave in to a desire to seek my native land again that I am suffering these things now. What are you going to do, O my soul? Are you going to perish, or conquer? Wait for the hand of the Lord, or dig a grave for yourself with your own sword? Turn the sword against yourself; the death of your soul is more to be feared than the death of your body. Shamefastness has brought its own martyrdom. Let this unsung witness to Christ lie here in the desert. I shall be my own persecutor and martyr." And then in my darkness I drew a gleaming sword and turned the point against myself. "Farewell, unhappy woman," I said. "You now have a martyr instead of a husband." She threw herself at my feet. "I beg you in the name of Jesus Christ," she said, "There is no need for your blood to be mingled with mine. Better for you to delay a while and turn the sword against me, that we may be united in that way. For even if my own husband is reunited with me I would still preserve the chastity that I have learned about in captivity. I would rather die than perish eternally. Why do you delay being joined to me? Take me as a wife of chastity, joined together in soul but not in body. Our masters can believe we are married, Christ knows you are my brother. They will easily be convinced that we are married, when they see how much we love each other." I was absolutely dumbfounded, I can tell you, lost in admiration for the virtue of this woman, whom I have loved even more as wife. I have never seen her naked, I have never laid a finger on her, fearing even in times of peace to lose sight of the goals I have striven after in the time of battle. Many days passed by in this 'marriage', and by our appearing to be married our masters looked upon us with greater favour. There was no question of my trying to escape, though sometimes I would spend as much as a whole month in solitude looking after the sheep.

Chapter VI After having been alone in the desert for quite some time with nothing to see apart from earth and sky, I began to turn things over in my mind, especially thinking of the monastic community I had left. I envisaged the features of my spiritual father who had instructed me, cherished me, and lost me. As I was thinking, I noticed some ants swarming out of a narrow cleft in the rock, dealing with burdens bigger than their own bodies. Some were dragging grass seeds in their pincers, others digging earth out of their narrow entrance and heaping it up into ramparts intended to keep out water. They were obviously mindful of the coming winter, and were making sure their storehouses would not be damp and encourage seeds to germinate. Others were having a funeral, dragging along an ant's dead body. And what was even more wonderful to me was that those going out did not get in the way of those going in, and if one of them was struggling under the weight of its burden, another would come and lend extra strength. What a beautiful sight that day brought to my eyes! I thought of Solomon, urging us to consider the industry of the ant as an example to stir up sluggish minds (Proverbs 6.6), and I began to feel weary of my captivity, longing for the monastic cell and the sort of care shown for each other by those ants, where all work is undertaken together, no one has any private property, and everything belongs to all. My wife met me as I returned home, unable to conceal the sadness in my face. She asked why I looked so depressed. When I told her, she did not laugh me to scorn but suggested that we should escape. "Hush, hush!" I said. "Though I must say I admire your faith." And we whispered together half way between hope and fear.

Chapter VII There were two wonderfully large he-goats in my flock. I slaughtered them both, made bags out of their skins, and prepared the meat as food for the journey. Early one evening, when our masters thought we had gone to sleep, we began our journey, carrying the bags and some of the meat. When we came to the river, ten miles away, we inflated the bags, grasped hold of them, and entrusted ourselves to the waters, paddling with our feet, so that little by little the stream would carry us to a place on the opposite bank a long way further down than the place where we entered, in the hope that any pursuers would lose the trail. Our meat got thoroughly soaked while we were doing this, besides which we dropped some of it, so that we scarcely had three days food left. Mindful that we might be thirsty later on, we drank till we could drink no more, and fled as fast as we could, constantly looking over our shoulders. We moved mostly at night, not only because of the burning heat of the sun, but also because of the ever-present threat of wandering Saracens. I tremble miserably even to think of it, and even though I am now quite secure, my whole body shudders.

Chapter VIII On the third day we could just about make out two men on camels, following us quickly in the distance. Night was beginning to fall, we were terrified, we thought it must be our master, we thought we must be near death. Our fear was increasing as we thought of our footprints plainly there in the sand, when we noticed a cave on our right, going back into the cliff. We went inside, in spite of our fears that poisonous beasts might be seeking the shadows there as daylight faded - vipers, spiders, scorpions and such like. Just inside the entrance we took refuge in a side passage on the left. Going in any further would be in vain, for by fleeing from death we could equally easily be running to meet death. With that thought in mind we knew that if the Lord takes pity on miserable wretches we would be safe, though if he condemns the sinner we were in our tomb. Imagine our state of mind, imagine our terror, when we saw our master and another of his slaves not far away outside the cave, and led by our footprints approaching our hiding place. We knew we could expect a fate far more awful than death. With stammering tongue I breathed a prayer to the Lord in great fear, not daring to move. He sent his slave in to drag us out of the cave, while he held on to the camels with drawn sword, waiting for us to come out. The servant went in for about three or four cubits. We could see his back as we looked out of our hiding place. He sent his voice echoing down the passage. "Come out, you wretches, come out, you gallows fodder, come out and die! Don't just stand there. What are you waiting for? It is your lord and master who summons you." He had hardly spoken when suddenly we saw a lioness rush out of the darkness, grip the man by the throat, and drag him back all covered in blood. O good Jesus! What was our terror! And yet what was our joy! We had seen our enemy perish without the master being aware of it. The master began to wonder why the servant was taking so long, and thought that perhaps there was a fight of two against one going on. Unable to restrain his anger any longer he entered the cave, trusting in his drawn sword, berating furiously his servant's stupidity, until he too was laid low by the wild beast, which had evidently been hiding there before us. Who ever would have believed that a beast would have fought for us before our very eyes!

Chapter IX With a second slaughter having taken place before our eyes we were still very frightened, wondering whether it was really safer to be threatened by a raving lioness than by an angry human. We were inwardly shattered, and dared not move, waiting to see what would happen in the midst of such great danger, but trusting in our own innocence as a wall of defence. In the morning the lioness picked up her cub in her mouth and went out, very cautiously, as if in danger, as if she were being observed. We were left in sole possession of our guesthouse. We could not believe it firmly enough to come out of our hiding place. We hesitated for a long time, wondering whether to go on, imagining that we might still be attacked again.

Chapter X We spent the whole day in fear before we finally emerged and found the camels outside, chewing the cud. We mounted them, refreshed ourselves by a new supply of food, and on the tenth day of our journey through the desert arrived at a Roman fort. We reported to the tribune, to whom we gave a full account of what had happened to us. He sent us to Sabianus, the duke of Mesopotamia. Here we sold the camels. I found that my old abbot had fallen asleep in the Lord, but I rejoined the monks of his community. I saw my 'wife' safely into a community of virgins, caring for her as I would for a sister, though I would not have trusted myself to live with her as a sister.

* * * * * * *

Chapter XI So that was what Malchus told me when I was young. I am telling you the story now I am old, a celibate man expounding a story of chastity. I urge all virgins to preserve their chastity. And tell those who come after you how modesty was never compromised in the midst of swords and deserts and beasts, and how a man dedicated to Christ can die but can never be overcome.

Life No5 The Life of Saint Onuphrius, Hermit [Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on June 12.] by Abba Paphnutius translated anonymously into Latin from the Greek

Prologue by the anonymous translator. Quite recently in looking through some Greek writings I came across this Life of Onuphrius. I already knew about it from what I was told by Gregory, that venerable and most prudent man. Having found it, I translated it by the grace of God into Latin, so that his commendable life, as far as my own powers might allow, should be better known, and provide an object of admiration and imitation for the reader. I beg you to overlook my untutored style, and exercise some forbearance as you ponder how great a labour the man of God patiently and generously took upon himself, as he spurned all the glory of worldly vanity, and by the straitness of his living gained for himself the inheritance of the kingdom of heaven.

The Life Paphnutius of blessed memory reveals some of his private acts and thoughts as follows: Chapter I One day as I, Paphnutius, was meditating in solitude and silence, it came into my mind that I should make a visit to all the places in the desert where there were holy monks, to shed light on how they habitually lived their lives of devotion, and learn to understand the way in which they served God. So it was that I quietly began my journey, eager to make this pleasurable venture into the desert. I carried some bread and water with me to sustain me in the labour of my journey, but by the end of the fourth day it had all gone. My limbs were beginning to lose their strength for lack of sustenance. However by the light of divine grace my imminent death was staved off, and gathering up my strength I resumed my journey, carrying on for another four days, eating nothing. At the end of this I was completely exhausted, and lay prostrate on the ground as if dead. And suddenly I was gladdened by help from heaven, for I saw a man in front of me who was unbelievably glorious, splendidly terrifying, impressively beautiful, colossally tall, illustrious of appearance. I was powerfully overcome at the sight, but with untroubled countenance he came close to me, and touched first my hands and then my lips. My strength flowed back strongly into me, and I rose to my feet immediately. By God's good favour I kept on going through the desert for seventeen days, to arrive at whatsoever place the Lord wished to show me, unworthy servant though I am, until such time as I might cease from my labour.

Chapter II As I was wearily resting, and thinking of how I had struggled to arrive at where I was, I saw in the distance a man terrible to behold. He was covered all over in hair like a wild beast. His hair was so thick that it completely concealed the whole of his body. His only clothing was a loincloth of leaves and grasses. The very sight of him filled me with awe, whether from fear or wonder I was not quite sure. I had never before set eyes on such an extraordinary sight in human shape. I didn't know what to do, but as I valued my life I took refuge





Chapter II (continued), Life of St Onuphrius, Book 1a

in flight, and clambered hastily up a nearby cliff face. In trembling haste I hid myself under some thick leafy plants, breathing heavily. Age and abstinence had nearly become the death of me. The man saw me on the cliff and cried out to me in a loud voice. "Come down from the mountainside, you man of God. Don't be afraid. I am just a frail mortal man like you." Reassured by these words I recovered my wits and came down, and going up to the holy man, hesitantly prostrated myself at his feet. "Get up, get up," he said. "You mustn't kneel before me. You too are a servant of God and your name is Paphnutius, beloved of the Saints." I got up at once, and although I was very tired it was with great joy that I sat down in front of him, with a keen desire to know who he was, and what sort of a life he lived. "God who has guided me through the desert has fulfilled my heart's desire," I said. "My limbs and joints which were almost disintegrating already begin to feel refreshed. But my mind still thirsts for enlightenment. Tell me, reverend sir, with a fervent heart I beg you, I appeal to you in the name of him for the sake of whose love you inhabit the lonely wastes of this desert, whence did you come, what is your name, how long have you been here. I beg you, tell me plainly." He could obviously see how keenly I wanted to know about the purpose of his life, and he gave me his answer.

Chapter III "I can see how earnestly you wish to know about the tribulations of my long life, beloved brother. Have no fear, I shall tell you everything, right from the beginning. I am called Onuphrius, an unworthy sinner, and I have been living my laborious life in this desert for nearly seventy years. I have the wild beasts for company, my regular food is fruit and herbs, I lay my miserable body down to sleep in mountainsides, in caves, and in valleys. Throughout all these years I have seen no one except you, and I have not been supplied with food by any human being. "I was brought up in the monastery of Hermopolis in the Thebaid, where there were about a hundred monks. Their life was such that they lived equably with each other in will and in deed. They were of one heart and one spirit, bowing their heads under the yoke and discipline of a holy rule, unworried by the ups and downs of life in the world. What pleased one pleased all. They walked before God with holy minds, pure faith, and perfect charity. Night and day they never ceased serving him with meekness and patience. They had such a love of silence, as part of their abstinence, that no one dared say a word, except by way of asking a necessary question or giving an apposite answer. I too received there the food of holy doctrine in my youth, there I learned from the brothers the model of a regular life. I was secure in the love they had for me, and they diligently instructed me how I ought to serve the commandments of God.

Chapter IV "Above all I frequently heard the venerable brothers praising the life of our holy father Elias, who disciplined himself in the desert with such abstinence and prayer that the Lord found him worthy to be given exceedingly great virtues. As he was carried away in a chariot of fire, he imparted his gifts of the holy Spirit to his disciple, and in his old age he did not see death (2 Kings 2.12). Then they would go on to the example of the blessed John Baptist who shines brightly through the pages of the New Testament. Throughout a period of many years he had been called aside for a special divine purpose, disciplining his body until such time as he was counted worthy to baptise the Redeemer of the world, when he pointed up to the heavens and declared him to be the Lamb of God.

Chapter V "As I listened to them talking of such things, I found I had questions to ask. "'Why do you stand in such awe of their life and miracles, good sirs,' I asked, 'and why do you rehearse their deeds so zealously? Are you not as strong as they were, living in the desert as you do? Or are you of less account than them?' "'My son', they replied, 'those who live without the help of any other human being are much stronger than we are. Each one of us is constantly being observed by everyone else, we all share in the celebration of the divine office, our food is ready for us at meal time, if anyone of us is ill or suffers from any other kind of human disability, the brothers are there to care for us with all kindness. We live in spacious buildings which shelter us from the summer heat and from the rain in winter. We are protected from the turbulence of wind and tempest. But the monks in the desert have no comfort except in God. If at any time they are suffering trials and tribulations, or if they begin to wage war with the devil, that ancient enemy of the human race, who is there for them? Who can help them? But when human help is lacking, divine help is always present. And if they are hungry, who will feed them? If thirsty, who will give them water where there is no food or water? "'It is beyond all doubt that desert places demand the maximum amount of labour, for the necessities of life are not readily available. The first essential for anyone deciding to live in solitude, therefore, is to be certain of standing firmly in the fear of God. They crucify their bodies in hunger and thirst, in labour and suffering. They fight manfully against the wiles of the devil, and against the fiery darts of the wicked they conquer with the sword of the spirit. That ancient enemy, the fount of all evil, strives always to bring them to ruin and enrol them in the company of the wicked, by undermining the good will with which they set out, by ensnaring their minds in thoughts of worldly pleasures, and making them weary of persevering in the work they have begun. "'But the Almighty God never abandons those who put their trust in him, for he surrounds them with the armour of his power, and the attacks of Satan have no power against them, for they are protected by divine mercy from on high. They are constantly under the protection of the Angels of God who habitually bring them everything they need. They drink water from the stony rock (Psalms 78.15), which, being interpreted, is Christ. For it is written: "The holy ones who trust in the Lord will be strong, they shall rise up with wings as eagles, they shall fly and shall not fall, they shall run and not be weary" (Isaiah 40.31). And again: "Those who thirst shall be refreshed by heavenly fountains, and green leaves shall melt in their mouths like honey" (cf. Exodus 16.31). "'Whenever the devil gathers his forces against them, they arise and lift up their hands to God, faithfully pouring out their prayers before the divine majesty. Help from heaven is there for them immediately, and the crafty arrows of the enemy are straightway destroyed. Have you not understood, my son, what is written in the Psalms? "He forgets not the suffering of the poor without end; the longsuffering of the poor will not last for ever" (Psalms 9.12). And again: "The Lord will hear them in the time of trouble, and will deliver them in the narrow places" (Psalms 107.19). "Truly each one shall receive his reward according to his labour" (1 Corinthians 3.8). "Blessed is the man who is always fearful" (Proverbs 28.14), who seeks the will of God in this present life, and takes care of the weak. Rest assured, my son, that the Angels of God are always round about the righteous, and are ever enlightening their bodies and souls with power from above.'

Chapter VI "This was the instruction carefully given me in the monastery by the holy Fathers, and I began to picture silently the glorious bliss enjoyed in heaven, by those who for the love of God have endured great trials here on earth. My heart burned within me, my mind began to be set on spurning worldly joys completely, and seeking my heavenly father with all my might, as the psalmist says: 'It is good for me to cleave unto God and put my hope in the Lord my God' (Psalms 73.28)

Chapter VII As a result of carefully thinking these things over I was moved to get up quietly in the middle of the night, take some bread and enough pulse to last me for a few days, and I set off, trusting in the guidance and goodness of God to show me a place where I might live. As I went from that monastery in the mountains into the desert where I intended to remain, I suddenly saw a shining light in front of me on the way, which filled me with fear to such an extent that I thought I had better go back to the monastery whence I had come. Then suddenly I saw a man of most beautiful appearance come towards me out of that ray of shining light. "'Fear not,' he said, 'I am your guardian Angel, whom God has assigned to you right from the beginning, to be with you by God's command and to lead you into the desert. Be perfected, walk humbly with God, labour joyfully, keep guard over your heart at all times, live uncomplainingly, persevere in good works. Rest assured I shall never leave you until such time as I shall bear you up into the presence of his Majesty most high.' "Thus spoke the Angel, who became my companion at the beginning of my journey.

Chapter VIII "We went on for about six or seven miles until we came to a rather insignificant looking cave. I went closer to see if there were anyone inside, and as is the custom of monks I humbly called out to ask a blessing. I suddenly saw a most holy man emerge, and I prostrated myself on the ground before him. But he stretched out his hands, lifted me up and offered me the kiss of peace. "'Come inside, my son,' he said. 'You are my brother in the life of the desert. God grant that you remain always in his fear, and that all your doings may be pleasing in his sight.' "I went in and stayed with him for many days, eager to know what he did, wanting to find out about his solitary life. He knew what it was I wanted to know, and in words of most loving kindness gave me some wonderful advice about how to counter the snares of the devil. "'Arise, my son,' he urged me, after I had spent some days with him. 'Depart from me now. It is time for you to go into the inner desert, and there dwell alone in some other cave. Fight bravely, and you will overcome all the temptations of the devil. It is God's will that you be tested in this desert, to see whether you can fulfil all his commandments. "For his commandments are faithful and will endure for ever, grounded in truth and justice." (Psalms 111.7-8)' "Having said this, the holy man arose and came with me, and travelled with me for four days into the inner desert. On the fifth day we came to a place in Calidiomea where there were some palm trees. "'See, brother,' said the man of God, 'here is the place which God has prepared for you.' "And he stayed with me for a further thirty days, teaching me how to serve the teachings of God's commandments with watchful diligence. At last he commended me to God in his holy prayers, and went back to his own place. He continued to visit me once a year, and never ceased to admonish me with his godly words about how to live in simplicity and diligence.

Chapter IX "There came a time when he visited me as usual and fell down to the ground as he greeted me. He had given up his soul to the Lord and had fallen asleep. I was overcome with grief, and flung myself down, weeping floods of tears which rose up from within me. And then I took up his body and committed it to the earth of Calidiomea."

Chapter X "Holy Father," I said, in reply to all that the most holy Onuphrius had said to me, "I sense that you must have persevered through some rather difficult adversities in this desert in the name of Christ." "Believe me, beloved brother," the holy man replied, "I have endured such things in this desert that I have often thought I was very near death. There have been so many times in my life when hope has failed me and I have scarcely had any breath left in my body. Scorched by day in the heat and burning fire of the sun, exposed to dew and hoar frost by night, fainting from hunger and thirst - O how many such things have I suffered! I cannot tell you how many wounds and hard knocks must be suffered by anyone who is willing to die for the love of God, nor would it be right to do so. But the Lord rewards the labours of his Saints (Wisdom 10.17), for his riches are beyond telling, nor can they be diminished. Through all the manifold pains and torments that I have suffered, cold and heat, hunger and thirst, his power has strengthened me with the heavenly riches of the company of Angels. By spurning food for the body I have been found worthy to receive the bread of heaven. My holy Angel has daily brought me bread, and water in due measure, to refresh my body lest it faint, that I might continue in the praise of God. "The palm trees have this property that the dates ripen twelve times a year. I picked them daily and ate them together with green herbs, and they were in my mouth as the honey and the honeycomb. In the Gospel it is written, 'Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God' (Matthew 4.4). Brother Paphnutius, if you wish to fulfil the will of God, everything necessary is ready for you. For the Truth himself counsels you, 'Take no thought for what you shall eat, or what you shall drink, or what you shall wear, for your heavenly Father knows that you have need of all these things. Wherefore seek first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you'" (Matthew 6 31-33).

Chapter XI I was lost in admiration for what this blessed man Onuphrius was telling me about his deeds and labours. "Tell me, good Father," I asked, "do you receive Communion from anyone on the Sabbath, or Day of the Lord?" "I find every Sabbath or Day of the Lord that the Angel of the Lord has prepared the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring me. With his own hand he gives me these precious gifts, for the everlasting salvation of my life. Indeed all the monks who lead a spiritual life in the desert share in this joy. If perchance any holy hermit living in solitude has a desire to see another human being he is carried up hence by an Angel into heaven where he can contemplate the vision of the souls of the righteous, shining like the sun in the kingdom of the Father. There, in the company of Angels, they see their own souls joined together with the souls of the blessed. And all who struggle in the battle with their whole mind, their whole heart and all their strength abound in good works in order that they may be found worthy to share in the glory of that heavenly country with Christ and all his Saints." As I listened to all these things that the venerable Onuphrius was telling me at the top of his little mountain where he met me, I was filled with such great joy that every hardship which I had suffered on my journey was banished into oblivion.

Chapter XII "Father," I said, "I count myself to be numbered among the blessed for having been found worthy to meet you, and to hear of all your wonderful works. What you have told me is so beautiful, so honey-sweet, and my heart is so pierced to the core, that I can truly say with the Psalmist, 'How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb in my mouth.'" (Psalms 119.103). "Come with me, my son," he said. "Come and see where I live. No more words for the moment." He got up immediately, moved away, and I followed him. He led me on for about three miles until we arrived at his spiritual home in Calidiomea, a pleasing spot among the palm trees. We first poured out prayers to God, then sat and conversed together on spiritual themes. At the precise moment of sunset I noticed some bread and a little water. The man of God could see how wearied I was. "Come now, my son," he said, "I can see that you are almost about to faint unless you take some food. So come and eat." "As the Lord liveth, (1 Kings 17.12) and as the Lord my God is blessed in whose sight we live," I said, "I will neither eat nor drink unless we both eat together in perfect charity." I was only just able to persuade him to do as I asked. But when he saw I was serious he broke the bread and shared it with me, and we ate and were satisfied; in fact there were some fragments left over from our meal. We passed almost the whole night without sleep as we offered up divine praise.

Chapter XIII After we had observed the hours of prayer next morning, I noticed that he had gone very pale. "Is there something the matter with you?" I asked. "Don't be over alarmed, brother Paphnutius," he said, "but I think that the omnipotent God has directed your footsteps into this desert that you may give me an honourable burial, and commit my body to the earth. For this is the hour when my soul is to be released from its earthly chains and carried away to its creator in the kingdom of heaven. I know what you intend to do, my beloved brother, so when you go back to Egypt, tell all your brothers and all the worshippers of Christ about me. I have made a request to God which he has granted me: If anyone offers the holy sacrifice for the love of my name in the sight of our Lord Jesus Christ and gives himself wholly to the praise of God, he will be able to resist all the temptations of the devil and will be freed from all the chains of human wickedness, and will be able to enjoy the inheritance of the kingdom of heaven with the holy Angels for ever. "And anyone who is not authorised to make the offering or who cannot afford to pay for it, let him give an alms to the poor in the name of the Lord and in his honour, and I will pray for him in the sight of God that he may be found worthy to enjoy the life above in the heavenly realms. "If there is anyone who cannot offer the sacrifice or give alms, let him offer sweet smelling incense to the Lord our God for love of me, and I will ask that he enjoy perpetual bliss." "Do not be angry with me, Father," I said, "if I ask you what if there is someone who has no incense, and no money to offer to God. How should he call upon you so that he will not suffer from the lack of your blessing?" "If there is any poor person in the desert or in any other place who cannot offer the sacrifice, or give alms or incense, let him arise and stretch out his hands before the Lord and say the Paternoster, the Lord's prayer, three times, keeping me firmly in his mind, and let him sing a psalm in the name of the holy Trinity. And I will truly pray for him to the Lord that he may be found worthy to partake in the life of heaven with all the Saints of God."

Chapter XIV I had a further request to make to him. "If you think I am worthy, and if you could find it in your heart to make me a gift, let me have this place to live in after your death." "No, that cannot be granted you," he said. "God did not guide your journey through this desert in order for you to find a place to live in, but that you should enjoy the company of the righteous in the desert, and then take pains to tell the world about what you have learnt in the desert. Go back to Egypt. Live there for the rest of your life. Be perfect in good works, and you will enjoy the crown of perpetual glory."

Chapter XV In response to what the man of God was saying I fell down at his feet. "Beloved Father," I said, "I know that whatever you ask of God, the Lord will grant you because of the immense labour of the long struggle that you have endured by disciplining your body for seventy years in the name of the Lord. Grant me the gift of your holy blessing, that I may be like you in virtue, and that my spirit may always be guided by your intercessions, and that I may be found worthy to share with you in the life to come." "Paphnutius," he replied, "do not worry. The Lord will grant that your desire will stand firm. Stand in faith, act manfully (1 Corinthians 16.13), keep your eyes and your mind always on God, keep the commandments, do not be weary in well-doing, grasp hold of eternal life. May the Angels of God protect you and keep you from every working of wickedness, that you may be found pure and spotless before God in the day of judgment." Weeping, he prayed to the Lord, bent his knees and said, "Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." As he said this, a brilliant light surrounded him, and his holy soul left his body in a flash of blinding light. [Probable date, c.400, according to Butler, Lives of the Saints, 6th Edition, A & C Black (Publishers) Ltd. 1989]

Chapter XVI And I suddenly heard the voice of a multitude of Angels praising God as the most holy soul of Saint Onuphrius departed, and that angelic song resounded with ineffable joy among all the stars of the universe, while the heavenly armies carried the soul of this distinguished warrior up to heaven. I wept profusely, I groaned inwardly, rivers of tears flowed down, I beat my breast over and over again. I complained in sadness that hardly had I met him than I was no longer able to enjoy his company.







Chapter XVI (continued), Life of St Onuphrius, Book 1a (Also St Pachomius, further down this page)

I tore my tunic in half, keeping half to cover my body and using half in which to wrap his blessed body. I buried him in the natural tomb of a cave in the solid rock. I was alone, I wept afresh. Still weeping, I made as if to enter the cave where he had lived, but as I stood in front of it, it collapsed with a mighty roar, and the palm trees were torn up by the roots and lay prostrate. And then I knew that it was not God's will that I, Paphnutius, should live in that place. I returned to Egypt, and there I told the Church all that I had seen and heard. The holy Onuphrius died on the eleventh day of June, that is the third day before the Ides. His blessings are with us to this present day to the praise and glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be all honour and power unto the ages of ages. Amen. Life No 6 The Life of Saint Pachomius, [c.290 - 346. Feast Day May 14.] Abbot of Tabennisi by an unknown Greek Author translated into Latin from the Greek by Dionysius Exiguus, Abbot of Rome. [A Scythian monk who lived in Rome c.500 - 550. 'Exiguus' was the name he gave himself. It carries the meaning of 'small, poor, unimportant']

Prologue by Dionysius Dionysius Exiguus to my revered Lady, the glorious handmaid of Christ: [Rosweyde conjectures that this was a Roman widow called Galla, who according to Gregory the Great lived the life of a recluse on the Vatican Hill. She died in 550, and is celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on October 5.]

I reply to your respected request, and the valued opportunity it offers, by offering you the Life of Saint Pachomius, faithfully translated into Latin from its Greek source. Your initiative has long been reproaching me for my delay in fulfilling the promise I had made, so it would not be right for me to delay any longer, especially when you are someone who is accustomed to expect a solemn promise rather than a mere good intention. You have eagerly desired to learn more about the disciplines of the blessed Fathers, and by the grace of Christ there is a great number of stories which are there to be read and imitated. Because of the great interest you have shown in gathering together the deeds of each one of them, the credit for this document as a divine gift for future ages is yours. You have said that you pay a great deal of attention to the virtues you admire so much in the lives of the Saints. Indeed, you have become one with them by the illustrious quality of your own deeds. For it is no use admiring virtue unless you aspire to it yourself. It is by living like the Saints that you show your union with them, just as on the contrary a life at odds with the Saints is like a great family disruption. It frequently gives rise to terrible family hatreds, senseless disputes, blind and stupid malice which can lead even to the shedding of blood, with the wicked at odds with the good, the avaricious with the generous, the turbulent with the peaceful, the lazy with the industrious, the angry with the placid, the rough with the gentle, the brazen with the modest, the stupid with the wise, the crafty with the simple, the overbearing with the meek. But the Apostle of the Gentiles sounds a trumpet call even more effectively about the nature of these people when he inveighs against the dangers of these present times in the following words: 'For these men are lovers of self, greedy, puffed up, proud, blasphemous, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, impious, without affection, without peacefulness, wrongdoers, incontinent, ungentle, unkind, betrayers, violent, arrogant, who love pleasure more than they love God' (2 Timothy 3.2-3). Here the most blessed Paul sums up in a few wonderful words what I was saying earlier in a great many words, for he shows how those who love pleasure become captive to the most vicious desires. All sorts of evils arise when God is despised and pleasures are loved. Through a love of pleasure the devil entices and deceives, he titillates in order to bring about ruin, he flatters in order to destroy. To prevent future joy being preferred to the present, heavenly things to earthly, eternal things to transitory, he says, 'Those who love pleasures more than God, although they may have the appearance of piety, deny the power of all virtue' (Ibid. 5). In other words they are Christians in name but not in deed, and do more damage as enemies in our midst than enemies from outside; as part of the Church they disfigure the members of the Church. The Apostle gives us a forthright warning that we should avoid their company, and be separated from them not just by physical space but by our different standards of behaviour. Nor should anyone be surprised that these vermin are the enemies of the righteous when miserably and deceitfully they don't even spare each other, but quarrel fiercely among themselves. Your holy and glorious father, whose servant I am, has not only proved worthy to endure their attacks patiently and bravely but by his blessed death has triumphed over the whole world for the sake of the Truth who is Christ. He followed in almost every point the perfect rule of life of the Saints, and I earnestly desire to write learnedly and fluently about those rules so that it may be known in every place how your father came to be so famous and glorious, and how the human virtues of someone of this present day are to be admired. By the grace of Christ you stand in his inheritance, and may bequeath it to posterity in the shape of a book.

The Prologue of the Author Our Lord Jesus Christ, the fount of wisdom and light of true knowledge, the true Word of God the father, by whom all things were made, is aware of our weakness and how prone we are to fall headlong into sin, but of his goodness he has offered us many remedies. Abraham our father was obedient to the commands of God, and in offering his own son as a sacrifice was found pleasing to God. And God swore by himself: 'In blessing I will bless you, and in multiplying I will multiply you, as many as the stars of heaven in number, and numberless as the sands of the seashore. And in your seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed' (Genesis 22.17-18). And the Apostle has lessons for us concerning this seed, for he says, 'I don't say seeds, in the plural, but seed, in the singular. And this seed is Christ' (Galatians 3.16). And all the holy Prophets foresaw by the inspiration of the holy Spirit the hidden things of our salvation. Knowing that God cannot lie, they announced beforehand the heavenly medicines that would be available for our illnesses, and prayed continuously that he might look favourably on the human race. And the merciful Lord, who always anticipates our godly desires, never deserts those who seek him with their whole heart, but has fulfilled those promises in these last days by sending his only Son, born of a woman, born under the law (Galatians 4.4), who suffered in the likeness of our mortal flesh, and by his death destroyed him who had the power of death (Hebrews 2.14). And while in his divinity it remained impossible for him to suffer, he redeemed us from corruption and destruction. He completed the work of redemption for all people by washing us in the forgiveness of sins and giving us life, drawing every one towards the true faith by means of the teaching of the Apostles. As it says in the Gospel, 'Go and teach all nations and baptise them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit' (Matthew 28.19), so he has enfolded us into the bosom of his infinite love. But as the proclamation of the Gospel has shone forth in all lands, and many by the grace of Christ have been adopted as sons, so the enemy of the human race has burned with rage, and waged much more severe and testing battles against the servants of God than he used to. Accursed and faithless, he has striven to do everything he can to obstruct the peacefulness of our journey to the heavenly realms. But his intentions have been foiled and brought to naught, as by the help of the gifts of God his own crafty tricks have been turned against him, bringing confusion to himself and eternal glory to the servants of Christ. For when by the Lord's permission, the pagan Emperors rose up and brought savage and stormy persecutions against Christians everywhere who were battling faithfully and patiently in spiritual warfare, many in Egypt became holy Martyrs, through all kinds of tortures enduring unto death in the name of Christ, and along with Peter the bishop of Alexandria, [Martyred in 311. Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on November 26.] gained an eternal crown and obtained the reward of immortality. And the multitude of the faithful began to increase daily, growing wonderfully in every place. Many churches flourished in zealous memory of the Martyrs, and monasteries most often among that number, practising abstinence as they renounced the world and adorned the secret places of solitude. People from all nations who had begun to believe in Christ were inspired by the sufferings of the Martyrs who had not wavered in their confession of Christ, and by the grace of the Lord they began to imitate the Saints in their life and discipline. They took to themselves this saying of the Apostle, 'They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, needy, straitened, afflicted, of whom the world was not worthy, wandering alone among the mountains, in caves and holes in the earth' (Hebrews 11.37-38). They sought the quietness of solitude, and by looking for the joyous divine gift of their own salvation through faith, they have furnished an example to others of a more sublime and sacred life. Freed from all earthly cares, they emulated the holiness of the Angels while still living in this mortal flesh. They scaled the heights of virtue, their brilliance was beyond belief, they were manifestly in no way inferior to the Fathers of antiquity, and their merits were the equal of those who have striven even unto death in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. For they have undermined all the powers of those invisible enemies of whom the Apostle speaks, 'For we fight not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world and spiritual wickedness in high places' (Ephesians 6.12). By forestalling the multiform attacks of the ancient serpent they trod his head underfoot, and obtained those eternal rewards of which it is written, 'Eye has not seen, nor has ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of humankind, what God has prepared for those who love him' (Isaiah 64.4 & 1 Corinthians 2.9).

The Life Chapter I Throughout the whole of that time the outstanding life of blessed Antony was held up as an example for all to follow. He stood out as emulating the examples of Elijah and Elisha and the holy John Baptist, seeking with single-minded zeal the hidden places of the inner desert, where in his love for virtue he lived the life of heaven. The holy Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, bore witness to him with his own pen. He was a worthy and perceptive interpreter of Antony's way of life. At the request of his brothers in Christ he wrote the Life of Antony for the edification of many, and as a model for spiritual men. In the course of that work he also makes mention of Ammon [Vita Antonii cap.xxxii] who by the grace of God laid the foundations of the life now lived by those brothers in Mount Nitria. He also told us something of how that holy man Theodore, [ibid ] when he was with Antony, overcame the multifarious deceits of the devil with single-minded purpose and faith unfeigned before God. And thus in the overflowing grace of God he openly proclaimed what is celebrated in the Psalms, 'You have visited the earth and watered it, you have multiplied its riches' (Psalms 65.10). For joy and gladness has arisen in place of sadness and groaning, happiness and security in place of anxiety and misery. Hence it is that those wonderful men, our monastic Fathers, have emerged in almost every region. Their names are written in the book of life. At that time there were very few monks in Egypt and the Thebaid, but after the persecutions of those cruel princes Diocletian and Maximian, a multitude of the Gentiles came in, as God had fore-ordained (Romans 11.25). The fertility of the Church was shown forth by its abundant fruitfulness, as the holy bishops with their Apostolic teachings led the way in the journey of faith by the integrity of their own lives.

Chapter II And it was at this time that Pachomius, who lived in the Thebaid, by the grace of God became a Christian. He came of pagan parents and religion, and is said to have sought after virtue even as an adolescent by means of rigorous fasting. I mention this fact for the glory of Christ who has called us out of darkness into light, and for the benefit of those who may be reading this. For his beginnings in a strict way of life as a young person go a long way towards explaining his later perfection.

Chapter III While he was still a boy he went with his parents to offer a sacrifice to an idol on the banks of the river Nile. But when the filthy pagan priest tried to perform his usual sacrilegious rites, the presence of Pachomius prevented the usual manifestations of the demon from happening. The priest stood as motionless as the idol he was worshipping, unable to understand why the demons were not giving their usual response, until at last an evil spirit revealed to him that it was because of Pachomius that the demons had been unusually silent. "Why has this enemy of the gods come here?" he shouted frantically. "Drive him out! Get rid of him!" When his parents heard this, they realised that he was parting company with them, and they were grievously upset, not least because he had been declared so forcefully an enemy of the gods. They were at their wits' end to know what to do with him, because he had spat out the wine of the demons' sacrifice before he had even tasted it. They knew that they could not understand it at all, but they just kept quiet. They saw to it that he was instructed in Egyptian learning and moulded in the study of the ancients.

Chapter IV It was at this time, after the persecutions, that Constantine won supreme command [312 AD] and carried out a campaign against the tyranny of Maxentius. He issued a royal decree that selected youths should be conscripted into military service, among whom was Pachomius, then aged twenty, as he himself later confirmed. As he was being carried off with others on board ship to foreign parts, they docked one evening in a certain port where the citizens, on seeing how strictly the raw recruits were being guarded, enquired what their situation was, and motivated by the commandments of Christ, took great pity on their miserable plight and brought them some refreshments. Pachomius was very surprised at what they were doing and asked who these men were who were so eager and willing to perform such humble acts of mercy. He was told they were Christians, who were in the habit of doing acts of kindness to everyone, but especially towards travellers. He learned also what it meant to be called a Christian. For he was told that they were godly people, followers of a genuine religion, who believed in the name of Jesus Christ the only begotten son of God, who were well disposed to all people, and hoped that God would reward them for all their good works in the life to come. Pachomius' heart was stirred on hearing this, and, illumined by the light of God, he felt a great attraction towards the Christian faith. The fear of God was ignited in him, and drawing aside a little from his companions he lifted up his hands to the heavens. "O Almighty God who made heaven and earth," he said, "if you will hearken to my prayer and show me how to order my life according to your holy name, and free me from my oppressive shackles, then I pledge myself to your service all the days of my life. I will turn my back on the world and cleave only to you." He returned to his companions and the next day they set sail from that country. As they sailed about from place to place, Pachomius never succumbed to any of the illicit pleasures of the body or the world which might have tempted him. He was ever mindful of his promise and vow to serve God. By the help of divine grace he had been a lover of chastity from his earliest days.

Chapter V Once the Emperor Constantine by his godliness and faith in Christ had won the victory over his enemies, he ordered the raw recruits to be released. So Pachomius obtained the freedom he longed for and returning straight away to the lower Thebaid he went to the church in the village of Chinoboscium, where he became a catechumen, and not long after received the grace of being bathed in the life-giving water. On the very night when he was initiated into the sacred mysteries he saw in his dreams a heavenly dew falling on to his right hand and turning into the thickness of honey. And he heard a voice saying to him. 'Take thought, Pachomius, for what this means. It is a sign of grace given to you by Christ.' From then on he was inflamed with desire for God and grievously pierced by the saving dart of divine love, which impelled him to give himself entirely to the disciplines and precepts of God.

Chapter VI He came to hear about a certain anchorite called Palaemon serving the Lord in a remote part of the desert. He sought him out in the hope of being able to live with him. He knocked on his door, asking to be let in. After a while the old man opened up to him. "What do you want? Who are you looking for?" he asked. He was of a rather intimidating appearance because of the life of strict solitude he had been living for such a long time. "God has sent me to you," replied Pachomius, "so that I may become a monk." "You would not be able to become a monk here. It is no light matter to entertain the idea of the chaste life of the true monk. There are many who have come in the past and have soon got wearied, strangers to the virtue of perseverance." "Not everybody is like that", said Pachomius. "So I beg you, take me in, and in the course of time make trial of my will, and see what I shall be capable of." "I have already told you, you can't become a monk here. Go rather to another monastery, and when you have learnt enough about how to live a life of abstinence come back, and then I might take you in. Listen carefully to what I am saying. I live an exceedingly abstemious life, my son. I punish my body with a most severe and difficult discipline. I eat nothing but bread and salt. I abstain from oil and wine completely. I keep vigil for half the night, spending some of that time in formal prayer and some in reading and meditating on the Scriptures. Sometimes, indeed, I keep vigil the whole night through." This filled Pachomius with the sort of fear a small boy has in the presence of his teacher, but strengthened by the grace of the Lord he was determined to submit himself to hard work. "If I have the aid of your prayers," said Pachomius, "I trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, who has given me an example of fortitude and patience, that I shall be made worthy of persevering in your holy way of life for all the rest of my days on this earth."

Chapter VII With spiritual insight Palaemon then discerned the depth of Pachomius' faith, and at last opened the door to him, took him in, and clothed him in the monastic habit. And so they lived together in the observance of abstinence and prayer. They also wove baskets and worked with their hands as the Apostle instructed (Ephesians 4.28), not only to earn their own living but so that they might have something to give to those in need. When they were keeping vigil and offering their nightly prayers, if the old man saw Pachomius about to be overcome by sleep, he would take him outside and make him carry loads of sand from one place to another, and by this exercise deliver his mind from the danger of being oppressed by the burden of sleep. He would instruct him as he did this, teaching him how to be diligent in prayer. "Work hard, Pachomius," he would say. "Watch and pray lest the tempter draw us aside (which God forbid) from this work to which we have put our hand and cause all our work to be in vain." Pachomius obediently and diligently submitted to all this, daily increasing more and more in the practice of holy abstinence, and giving the keenest joy to the old man, who never ceased to give thanks to God for the way Pachomius was living his life.

Chapter VIII In due course the most holy day of Easter arrived. "This feast is celebrated by all Christians," the old man said to Pachomius. "Let us get ready for it ourselves, according to our custom." Always prompt to obey, Pachomius did what he was asked and contrary to their usual custom took some oil and mixed it with some crushed salt. As well as the oil he prepared lapsanum, that is, wild olives and herbs. "I have done what your asked, father," said Pachomius, when all was ready. After the usual prayers, the blessed Palaemon came to the table, but when he saw the oil mixed with the salt, he clapped his hands to his head and wept copiously. "My Lord has been crucified, and am I now to eat olive oil?" he said. "Can you not just eat a little bit of it? asked Pachomius "I can in no way do that," he replied. So bread and salt was brought for the meal and they sat down together. The old man blessed the food with the sign of the Cross of Christ, and they both humbly gave thanks to God for the food they ate.







Chapter IX (continued), Life of St Pachomius, Book 1a One day, as Palaemon and Pachomius were about to light the fire before the vigil, a brother arrived wanting to stay with them. After they had received him they conversed for a while as usual, when he suddenly stood up and said, "If you have any faith at all, let fire fall upon this charcoal!" And he began to recite the Lord's Prayer slowly, a bit at a time. "Stop this madness, brother!" cried Palaemon, who had sensed that the brother was deceived and puffed up by pride. "Do not say anything more!" But the brother took no notice of the old man's reproof. Carried away even more by his own pomposity, he became quite out of control and brazenly stood on the fire. The fire affected him not one bit, and it was obvious that with the Lord's permission, he was under the influence of the enemy of the human race. What he was thus doing with impunity served only to make his madness worse. As the Scripture says, 'The Lord has sent them into the paths of iniquity' (Proverbs 28.10 & Ecclesiastes 2.16). Next morning he departed quite early, not without giving them a parting reproof. "Where is your faith?" he cried. But not long after this the devil saw that this brother had given himself into his hands, and that it would be easy to drive him into whatever evil deeds he wished. So he changed himself into the appearance of a beautiful woman clothed in the most beautiful garments, and knocked vigorously on the door of the brother's cell. The brother opened the door. "I beg you for help," said the devil disguised as a woman. "I am being pursued by my creditors, and I am afraid they will do me great harm. Please take me into your cell, for I am not able to pay my debts. How grateful I shall be if you let me hide here, for it is the Lord who has guided me to you." Darkened and mentally blind, totally unable to discern who it was who was saying these things to him, he took the devil inside. The enemy of our existence could see that he was susceptible to all kinds of depravity, and began to put lustful thoughts into his mind. Before very long he gave in to them, and begged her for her womanly embraces, whereupon the unclean spirit flooded into him and dashed him savagely to the floor. He rolled about there for a while, then lay there as if dead. It was several days before he came to himself, feeling frantically sorry for his acts of madness. He came back immediately to the holy Palaemon and with floods of tears told him what had happened. "I know, Father," he cried, "I know that I am the cause of my own perdition. You did well to reprove me, and I am cursed for not listening to you. But I pray you, give me the help of your holy prayers, and prevent the enemy from driving me completely to ruin, placed as I am in such great danger." As he thus poured out his laments and tears, both the holy Palaemon and the blessed Pachomius wept in sympathy, but he was suddenly convulsed by the evil spirit, fled from their presence and rushed out headlong through the desert. When he came to a town called Panos, in his madness he threw himself into the furnace of a bath-house and so came to a miserable end in the flames.

Chapter X When Pachomius heard about this, he set himself to hold on even more closely to the practice of abstinence, and to remain vigilant in everything that he did, but especially in his prayers, in accordance with what is written, 'Keep custody of your heart with all diligence' (Proverbs 4.23). The old man was amazed that he not only kept outwardly to his accustomed rule of abstinence, but that he strove inwardly to purify his mind into a heavenly pattern, as the blessed Apostle says, 'Our glory is the testimony of a good conscience' (2 Corinthians 1.12), sure that in this a reward was being prepared for him in heaven. In reading Scripture he endeavoured to commit it to memory, but not indiscriminately. He would dwell on some particular precept, turning it over devoutly in his mind, and then would endeavour to put into practice day by day what his memory had retained. Above all he strove to excel in the gifts of patience and humility, and most of all in purest love towards God. We learned about these things, and many others, from holy men of God who dwelt with him at many different times. He provided them with an example of godly life, and after reading the divine scriptures he would diligently point out to them the pieces which were relevant to the edification of their souls. There are so many examples of this that it is beyond my powers to describe them, so that I will write no more about them in these present writings. I have not sufficient eloquence to do justice to the merits of such a man.

Chapter XI Near the mountain where these holy men dwelt there was a desert place where many thornbushes grew. Pachomius often went there to gather firewood, treading on the thorns with his bare feet. But he rejoiced that his feet were pierced with thorns, remembering how graciously our Lord was fixed to the cross with nails. He was greatly attracted to solitude, and would frequently spend long hours by himself in prayer, beseeching God to deliver him from any suspicion of self-deception.

Chapter XII It chanced one day that Pachomius wandered a long way off from his cell and came to a hamlet called Tabennisi, where hardly anybody lived. After he had spent a long time in prayer in that place, according to his usual custom, he heard a voice from heaven: "Stay here, Pachomius, and build a monastery. For many will come to you seeking to profit from your instruction. You shall guide them in accordance with a rule with which I will provide you." And an Angel of the Lord appeared to him, with tablets in his hand, in which were laid down all the details of the sort of life which he was to teach to those who came to submit themselves to his direction. Tabennisi still keeps to this same rule today, using the same diet and wearing the same habit, and observing carefully the same discipline. The monks who live there come from many different places, and differ greatly in stature and culture; it follows then that they need a Rule different from what they have been used to. Divine grace and the integrity of his own life had together brought this voice to him, and Pachomius listened to it with sincerity of heart, in the sure knowledge that it came from God. He eagerly accepted the divine Rule. Returning to the venerable old man, Palaemon, he recounted what he had been charged to do by the divine voice, and begged him to come back with him to that place, where they might fulfil the commandments of the Lord together. Not willing to disappoint a beloved son in anything he might be asked to do, Palaemon yielded to his prayers, and they both went back to that hamlet where they built a cell, rejoicing in the Lord and waiting for the fulfilment of his promises. After some time, Palaemon made a proposition to Pachomius: "I am very much aware that the grace of God has been conferred upon you, and that you will always order your life accordingly; let us then make a pact between us that we should never leave each other, so that for as long as we still live in the light of day we should be able to encourage each other with tireless mutual support." They were both pleased with this idea, and for as long as they lived the blessed old man and Pachomius together took care to abide by this agreement.

Chapter XIII Soon after this the venerable Palaemon began to suffer from kidney trouble, brought on by his practices of abstinence, and his whole body began to suffer with a most debilitating illness. For sometimes he had been eating while abstaining from drinking anything, and at others he would drink without eating anything. There were some other brothers with them who had come on a visit, and they advised him to cease from the daily offices, in order to give his body some rest, and that he should take up a more suitable diet to build up his wasted limbs and prevent his body from being totally ruined. But he would not agree to this regime for very long. His illness became even worse, and feeling that this new diet was an extravagance, he reverted to his old ways without any relaxation. "The Martyrs of Christ," he said, "were some of them torn to pieces, some decapitated, some burnt in the fire, but endured bravely to the end for the sake of their faith, and should I, then, impatiently scorn what rewards might come to me through suffering, and give in to these insignificant discomforts, by becoming attached to this present life and frightened of a few momentary pains? I agreed to your persuasion and adopted a diet which I was not used to, and it made my illness even worse than it was before, rather than giving me any relief. So I go back to my former regime, and I will not give up my battle for continence, in which I am certain lies all peace and true joy, except for the peace and joy we will find in God. I have not taken up arms in this battle to please human beings; I have set myself to strive for the love of Christ" So he carried on manfully, but within a month he became exceedingly weak. Pachomius attended him, caring for him as a father, kissing his feet and embracing him, in the knowledge that he was in the process of saying farewell. And the venerable old man, laden with every virtue, gently rested in peace. Holy Pachomius buried his body, and choirs of Angels lifted his soul and carried it up to heaven. Pachomius carried on with his own path of pilgrimage.

Chapter XIV Not long after this his own brother, John, came to join him, having heard about everything he was doing. This gave Pachomius the greatest possible joy, for out of all those baptised Christians who had chosen the solitary life, he had up till then not found anyone from his own family. So John, Pachomius' true brother, followed in his footsteps and stayed with him, following the same rule, united with him in the same love for God. They meditated on the law of God day and night (Psalms 1.2), their minds undistracted by any worldly cares. Whatever was left over from what they produced by their manual work they gave to the poor and gave no thought to the morrow, in obedience to the precepts of the Lord Jesus Christ (Matthew 6.34). They kept to the use of only one lebiton [sleeveless tunic] until it got to be so dirty that it had to be washed. This lebiton was a linen garment, similar to the colobium [long tunic] and is still worn today by the monks of the Thebaid and Egypt. But the blessed Pachomius preferred to mortify his own body and generally wore only a cilicium. [Shirt of goat's hair.] He lived for fifteen years like this, in laborious toil and sweat, in vigils and abstinence. He did not lie down to sleep at night, but sat in the middle of his cell without even learning against the wall for support. He did not find that an easy practice, but bore it quite cheerfully, in anticipation of the eternal rest being prepared for him in heaven. He studied the injunctions of many of the fathers, endeavouring always, with his brother, to rise to the very heights of virtue. They worked hard at it, and each of them lived to the utmost of their ability in the greatest humility and patience and in faith unfeigned (1 Timothy 1.5).

Chapter XV During this time Pachomius was given more divine guidance about the Rule which was to be observed by those who because of him would put their trust in the Lord. He began to make additions to the building in which he and his brother lived, and he constructed other buildings as well in order to accommodate all those who would undoubtedly be renouncing the world and coming to serve Christ. He constructed enough accommodation for a great number of people. But while the holy Pachomius had been widening the area over which the monastery extended, as we have said, and increasing the number of buildings, his brother had been thinking about solitude and the life of an anchorite. He loved the smallness of his dwelling place. He was the elder of the two, and had no hesitation in making his views known to Pachomius. "You should give up this idea," he said. "Why are you doing all this unnecessary work? It's stupid to extend yourself like this." Pachomius took this reproach hard; he wasn't used to being criticised, but nevertheless said nothing in reply, kept calm and continued with what he was doing. But next night he went into the smallest room of a house that he had built himself, prostrated himself in prayer and wept bitterly. "Woe is me!" he cried. "For fleshly prudence has bought itself a foothold in me! I am still walking according to the flesh, as I have just discovered. For I have taken on all this activity, and it is not right that sometimes it makes me impatient, sometimes gloomy, sometimes furious, even though I might have cause to be angry. Have mercy on me, O Lord, lest I perish, lest I succumb to the deceits of the devil. For if your grace has deserted me, and the enemy has discovered in me some share in his own evil deeds, then I must have become a slave to his own demands, as it is written, 'You are designated a slave of whomsoever it is that overpowers you' (2 Peter 2.19). And again it is written, 'If someone who is bound to fulfil the whole law offends in only one particular he is guilty of the whole' (James 2.10). "I believe, O Lord, that your mercies are without number. They support me and help me for no merit of mine. Enlightened by you I shall walk in the way of your saints, and 'looking towards what is before I shall forget what is behind' (Philippians 3.13). It is thus that the company of your servants who have pleased you from the beginning, protected by your help, have evaded the attacks of the devil and have shone resplendent far and wide for the salvation of the many. But how should I, O Lord, presume to train in the monastic life others whom you might send to me, when I have not yet conquered the passions of the flesh myself, nor kept your commandments with a spotless mind? And yet I put my trust in you, O Christ, that your power may come to my aid in everything that happens, so that what I do may be pleasing in your sight. O most merciful God, forgive, forgive I pray, all my sins, and purify my heart by your visitation." He persevered all night with tears and weeping in this prayer to the Lord. He poured out so many tears and so much sweat (for it was summer time) that the floor on which he was praying became so wet that you would think it had had water poured out all over it. When he stood in prayer he was accustomed to stretching out his hands for several hours without lowering them while keeping his body still as if fixed to the cross, and by keeping this up for long periods at a time he spurred on his soul to be vigilant in prayer. And although he was powerfully endowed with all kinds of virtue, he showed incredible humility and the greatest gentleness in the way he lived with his brother, whom he supported always without fail. Not long after this his brother came to the end of his earthly life, and Pachomius celebrated his funerary rites with due honour. He spent a whole night keeping vigil by his body with psalms and hymns, commended his soul to the God in whom they had both put their trust, and reverently gave him burial.

Chapter XVI Unwearyingly, he continued to discipline himself in his strait and narrow way of life, striving for integrity and purity in all things. When illicit thoughts assailed him he straightaway put them to flight with the help of God, and kept on going, rooted in the fear of the Lord. He was ever mindful of eternal punishment and never ending grief, where the worm does not die and the fire is unquenchable (Mark 9.44). While Pachomius was thus abstaining from forbidden practices and progressing onwards to better things, he was all the time taking great pains in extending his monastery in preparation for receiving many others. And the devil began to obstruct him fiercely, gnashing his teeth at him like a wild beast, stirring him up with all kinds of temptations in the hope of finding some opening for his deceits to enter. But protected by the shield of faith he vigilantly warded off the attacks of the enemy, and sang the holy Scriptures which he had committed to memory.

Chapter XVII One day when Pachomius was beseeching the Lord and bending his knee in prayer, a great pit appeared in front of him by means of the devil's tricks. The enemy of the human race showed him a crowd of strange and meaningless shapes tumbling about in it, trying by stealth and deception to distract the mind at prayer from its proper intention, so that it was no longer able to offer prayer to the Lord in purity. By the revelation of Christ Pachomius recognised the stratagems of the demons and held them in contempt, gaining a great increase in faith thereby. In this kind of conflict he was constantly giving thanks and blessing the Lord. One of his customs was to go off to places some distance from the monastery to pray. On his way back the unclean spirits would often amuse themselves by forming into a troupe and disporting themselves in front of him, urging each other on as if they were clearing a path for some great official, by shouting out, "Make way for the man of God!" But Pachomius, armed with the hope of Christ our Redeemer, poured scorn on their ridiculous playacting, and held them to be as futile as barking dogs. They soon found that the great constancy of this man prevented them from being able to break down his defences by any number of these games, so they formed themselves into a great phalanx and rushed in upon him to surround his house and shake the foundations to such an extent that the holy man thought the whole place was about to fall in. But he remained undaunted, and as usual plucked the strings of his spiritual harp, by declaiming in a loud voice, "God is our refuge and strength, our help in the troubles which come upon us. Therefore we shall not fear though the earth be shaken" (Psalms 46.1-2). His psalmody brought immediate peace, and the attacks of the enemy vanished like smoke. But they only retreated for a little while, just like dogs who will leave off what they are doing when they get tired of it, but come back more aggressively than ever later on. For when the holy man after his prayers sat down to his work as usual, the enemy appeared in the shape of an enormous cock in the midst of his hens, crowing repeatedly, and making other unusual noises, before jumping on him and tearing him grievously with its claws. He made the sign of the Cross on his forehead and blew at the cock, putting it to flight. He became familiar with all the shapes which the enemy could take, but forearmed with the fear of God he made sure their deceits were of no effect. Frequently attacked, he never wearied, but like an impregnable fortress endured every struggle with the greatest patience. On some occasions the demonic army busied themselves by tempting the holy servant of God with what are called phantasms. Many of them would gather themselves together into a massed attack, seemingly as many as the leaves on a tree, and drag him into a mighty struggle, with their cohorts arrayed on the right hand and on the left. They would urge each other on, and strenuously oppress him so that he felt as if the weight of an enormous stone was moving against him. The wicked spirits carried on like this in the hope that they could so unnerve him that his mind would relax into some kind of mockery, through which they might find some way of giving him a mortal wound. But Pachomius discerned their impudence, and had recourse to the Lord as usual in prayer. By the power of Christ their attack was brought to naught. When he sat down to eat giving thanks to God, the demons would frequently appear in front of him looking like beautiful women of various shapes and sizes, decked out in scandalously shameless scanty clothing, seeming to sit down next to him and come close to him and touch him. Our strong and sturdy athlete was much troubled by this, but nevertheless closed his outward eyes and turned his inward eye upon the Lord, whereby he was able to trample their best endeavours underfoot. For the mercy of the Lord was with him, deigning always to come to the aid of those with an upright and contrite heart, according to his promise, 'Fear not, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world' (Matthew 28.20).

Chapter XVIII On another occasion the devil began a most severe campaign against him, and attacked him so fiercely that from evening to morning his whole body was lacerated with many stripes. But although he was being crucified in immense pain, he never gave way to despair, but was mindful of the Lord who never deserts his servants in the time of trial. It was at this time that a monk called Apollo came to visit him. As Pachomius was conversing with him on the subject of salvation and recounting the manifold ways in which the devil attacks, he began to tell Apollo about all the ways in which he himself had been attacked, and in particular how bitter had been the beating that he had suffered. "Keep on fighting manfully," said Apollo, "and be strong in heart, venerable Father. For the devil knows that if you fall victim to his devices, he will also be easily able to overcome us as well. We rely for strength on living under the shadow of your contests, and we look to you as the greatest possible example of virtue. So don't cease from fighting vigorously. You are strong in the protection of the Lord; be strong in his power, lest you are called to account for us as well, which God forbid. For if you, who stand out among us all, grow slack in any way, you will become a cause and occasion of ruin for many." To hear this gave Pachomius great encouragement in his battle with the demons. He glorified God for the company of this brother, and begged him not to desert him. Apollo kept that in mind and often thereafter came to visit the old man. Shortly afterwards, however, when paying a visit to Pachomius for a few days, he was struck with an illness which put him beyond any human help, and to Pachomius' dismay completed the course of his life. He buried him with his own holy hands, singing the usual psalms and hymns and spiritual songs.







Chapter XIX (continued), Life of Pachomius, Book 1a

After this the blessed Pachomius grew so much in confidence before God, and flourished so magnificently in divine hope, that time beyond number he would tread upon serpents and scorpions without coming to the slightest harm (cf. Luke 10.19). Even crocodiles would most meekly submit to him, and transport him across the river when he had need, and take him to wherever he wanted on the other side. For all these things he constantly gave thanks to God who had protected him from all the wiles of the enemy. "Blessed are you, Lord God of our fathers," he prayed, "for you have not despised my humble estate, nor allowed me to be deceived in my great weakness by the deceitful frauds of the devil. You have mercifully dispersed the darkness of my ignorance and taught me how to do your will. For whereas I was weak and puny, and hardly aware of what my life should be, you have enlarged me with a sense of awe in your sight, so that I am saved from outer darkness and eternal punishment, and have been brought to a knowledge that you are the true light and eternal joy."

Chapter XX (This chapter also in III.35) Seeing that he seemed to be pursued so assiduously by the demon, our bold athlete strove even more vigorously for a holy life by asking God that if it were possible he might be allowed to exceed the normal limits of human endurance and overcome the necessity of having to waste time in sleeping. So he kept vigil day and night until he had cast down the attacks of the devil, as it is written, 'I shall afflict them till they cannot stand. They shall fall under my feet, for you have girded me with power for the battle' (Psalms 18. 38-39) This petition was granted, to the limit of what the human condition would allow, and he endured against the enemy as if he were actually visible, and persevered in driving himself in eloquent outpourings to heaven. His prayers were unceasing that the will of God should be done in all things.

Chapter XXI And as Pachomius was thus watching in prayer, an Angel of the Lord appeared to him "The will of the Lord, Pachomius," said the Angel, "is that you serve him with a pure mind, and gather together a great number of monks, who may strive to serve God by keeping all the rules in the book which has been shown to you". [See Chapter XII.] For he had already recently been given tablets on which the following words were inscribed:

Chapter XXII Let each one eat and drink according to their strength, and let them work according to what they eat. Don't forbid them either to fast or to eat in moderation, but give harder work to those who are strong and eat more, lighter work to the weak and those who fast. Build a number of different cells, and put them three to a cell. Let all the food be prepared and eaten in the one place. At night let them wear linen lebitons [see Chapter XIV), girded about the loins, and let them each have a melote, that is a goat skin dyed white, without which they should neither eat nor sleep. When they come to the Communion of the Sacraments of Christ let them loosen their belts and take off their melotes, and wear only their cowls. It was also decreed that the monks should be divided up into twenty-four groups according to the letters of the Greek alphabet, that is from  through to So that when the archimandrite [This word was used in the Eastern Church from the 4th century for the head of a monastery, and is thus the equivalent of an "abbot". Later it was used to designate a ruler over several monasteries. It is still used in the Eastern Church today.] is asked about any particular person he can be given an easy one word answer about what he is like by saying or and again or or ,so that whatever letter you give to a group signifies its grading. You could give the single-minded and innocent the letter  or the difficult and complex ones the letter  so that each letter would indicate each group according to its behaviour and serious intent. Only the spiritual leaders would know what each letter meant. It was also written down in the tablets that if a pilgrim from another monastery should come wearing a different habit no one should eat with him, unless he were on a journey, in which case this rule should be waived. Anyone coming to the monastery with the intention of staying permanently should be trained in his holy duties for three years and given the more straightforward tasks, before letting him enter into the field of battle. At mealtimes let them conceal their faces in their cowls so that a brother cannot see any other brother eating. And let them stay silent and not let their eyes wander about. The Angel who spoke with Pachomius also laid down that there should be twelve prayers for the daytime, twelve for the evening and twelve for the night. When Pachomius remarked at how few that was, the Angel replied: "It has been set at that number so that the weaker won't find the task too difficult. But the perfect need not feel deprived by this rule, for in the privacy of their own cells they can go on praying if they are being nourished by divine contemplation in purity of mind." After saying all this the heavenly messenger departed, and Pachomius gave thanks to God, for it was now by a threefold revelation that his vision was confirmed. He began to receive all who offered themselves to the mercy of God through penitence, and after a long trial of the life, they were enrolled into the family of monks. He urged them to flee from the immorality of the world, and to cleave always to the holy rules. He warned them that the overall rule according to the Gospel was that the monk renounces first the whole world, then his family, and lastly denies himself, so that he may take up his cross and follow in the footsteps of Christ (Luke 14.26-7). Instructed in that sort of teaching by the blessed old man, they soon brought forth most worthy fruits of penitence. Although he was now of advanced age he pursued the purpose of the spiritual life with undiminished zeal. He not only committed himself to a stricter rule but took upon himself the control and care of the whole monastery, aiming to be a servant of all even if it were beyond his strength. He punctually prepared the common meal for the brothers and performed the usual offices. He gathered the vegetables from the garden which he had watered with his own hands. When anyone knocked at the monastery door he would be the one who went to open it and give a ready response. He nursed the sick day and night. In all these things he gave a most excellent example to his disciples. Newcomers to the service of the Lord were thus more readily drawn into the duties of devotion. Not yet able to enjoy the gift of matching his standard of care, but free from all distraction, they were gently admonished by the old man: "In so far as you are called 'brothers', take your cue from that. Say the psalms and other books, and especially commit the holy Gospel to memory. Thus, serving the Lord, and binding to yourselves each one of the commandments, you will become perfect, you will imbue all things with my own spirit, especially if you take care to observe all the heavenly precepts."

Chapter XXIII The first three men to join up with Pachomius were Psenthessus, Suris and Obsis. Pachomius constantly reminded them of the word of God as he gave them instruction and encouraged them to grow in the work of the spirit. For their part, as they contemplated the old man's life as a specimen of virtue, they were filled with admiration. "It is a big mistake," they said, "to think that human beings may live a life of blessedness because of some kind of privilege of birth, as if there were no such thing as free will. It is just as much a mistake to think that sinners cannot through penitence develop in virtue. Just look at how the Lord has manifestly enlarged this venerable father Pachomius, whose parents were pagan outsiders, and who has stretched himself to such an extent in the worship of God that he carries out all the commandments of God. "So then, we can be sure that any one of us who really wishes to, can by the help of God's grace follow the model of this holy man, and attain to the perfect life and holiness of the fathers. It is written in the Scriptures that Christ says, 'Come to me all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest' (Matthew 11.28). What does this mean except that we should cast off the heavy burdens which oppress the human race, and adhere to an unchanging good which does not perish? Let us persevere to the end with this old man, that we may be found worthy to be glorified with him in eternal bliss. For everything he teaches us is right, not only by his words but what is more effective still, by his own marvellous example." They went then to Pachomius and said to him, "Why is it, venerable father, that you take the whole responsibility of the monastery upon yourself?" "No one harnesses up beasts of burden," he replied, "and suddenly compels them to work with such a heavy load that they collapse under the strain, but he trains them little by little, getting them used to lighter loads until they are capable of taking on heavier. In the same way it is right that we should deal with you as Christ has dealt with us, and lead you on so that we may rejoice in your constancy in all things. May the most merciful God, who never despises the prayers of the humble, confirm his teaching in your heart, that you may carry out every good work with patience and longsuffering, following in the footsteps of the holy fathers, so that others may see how the integrity of your life is pleasing to God, and will come to the service of Christ and all take an equal share with the father in seeing to the needs of the monastery."

Chapter XXIV They accepted the regime he gave them, that is, that they should be sparing in what they ate, that their clothing should be of the cheapest, and that their sleep should be no more than adequate. And it came about that according to the will of the Lord, who wills the salvation of all human beings, and who blesses all their good works with increase, that many men came to join the old man and stay with him, among whom were Pecusius and Cornelius, Paul, and another Pachomius, and John, who freely embraced the spotless faith and saving teaching of the blessed father. He then decided that those with any competence should share in the duties of the monastery, and in a very short time the numbers of monks were multiplied. When a feast day required that they should participate in the holy mysteries, they asked presbyters from neighbouring villages to come and celebrate the feast of spiritual joy for them. For the old man would not allow any of their own number to perform the duties of the clergy. He maintained that it was much more fitting that monks should not seek for pre-eminent honour and glory, and that opportunities of that sort should be rooted out of coenobia, for they are often sources of futile strife and jealousy among the brothers. Just as a whole year's harvest can be destroyed if a spark falling into the fields is not quickly extinguished, so a deadly thought in the mind of a monk, ambitiously desiring leadership as a cleric, can destroy the modesty he has acquired so laboriously, if he does not forthrightly drive from his heart the incendiary nature of such a suggestion. So the communicants of Christ should respect the clerics in the church with all meekness and sincerity; it is not right that they should wish for any religious preferments themselves. "But if anyone among the monks has been previously ordained by a bishop," said Pachomius, "let us welcome his ministry. We find in the old Testament that not everyone was allowed to take clerical office; only those born among the tribe of Levi were allowed to offer the sacrifices. So if a brother of undisputed priestly status comes in from elsewhere, let us not denigrate him as if he were trespassing into sacred areas and had no right to exercise his ministry. How could we possibly think that about him, when at the same time we earnestly request him to celebrate the heavenly Sacraments for us? It is much more fitting that we respect him as a father following the footsteps of the Saviour, and who is doing what we have requested him to do, and that he should not cease from offering the sacrificial gifts to God, especially if his character is known and approved by all. "If he is thought to have been guilty of some offence, which God forbid, it is not for us to judge him. For God the just judge has set bishops to be the judges over such people. As successors and imitators of the blessed Apostles they have the power to examine the particulars of each single case, and give just judgment upon them. Let us concur with their judgments from the bottom of our hearts, for the Lord warns us to be merciful, and that we ought always to pray that we be not led into temptation" (Matthew 6.13). This renowned father spoke these words quite forcefully, but yet with a caring concern. And thus when any cleric came to him wanting to live under his Rule, he accorded him the honour which the church expects for one of that rank, but expected him to submit to the monastic rules with all humility.

Chapter XXV The blessed Pachomius loved all the servants of Christ, watching over them always with a father's care. He performed the works of mercy with his own hands for the old and for the sick, and even for the very young. Among other things he would always train their minds to be ready for spiritual warfare. Since many of them were making progress in their faith and in their work, and since their numbers were increasing, they were all becoming rather stretched in their pursuit of virtue. So he chose prefects (praepositi) from among them, who stood out as being able to assist in the development of the souls who daily came crowding in. There were so many coming in and increasing in the work of the spirit, that a great diversity was seen in their various spiritual states. So in accordance with the Rule given him by God, the old man, with the grace of Christ guiding him in everything, issued guidelines and schedules of work for all of them according to the strength and ability of each one. Some he set to grow food by manual labour, others were occupied in various common tasks, not that anyone was tied to any task at all times, for each one retained a certain amount of control over his own discipline according to his zeal and the sort of work he did. The general oversight of both brothers and visitors he committed to those who followed him in seniority. He urged all the monks, however, to be prompt in obedience, as a direct and easy path towards aspiring after the heights of perfection and diligently cultivating the fear of God in their hearts. For in humbly bringing forth the fruits of obedience they would be living their lives for God rather than self. This venerable father was mainly concerned with spiritual direction, but he was always ready to undertake any particular task if it so happened that for any reason the person to whom he had committed responsibility was not available. He truly regarded himself as the servant of all. And he did this quite unobtrusively and without any of the bluster which sometimes spoils the virtues of spiritual men. His manner of great humility infused everything that he did and built up everyone in the Lord. He visited each of the cells (monasteria) in turn, until his paternal affection led his footsteps back to those of his sons he had started with. He loved to find them earnestly vigilant in the work of God, and rejoiced greatly at the progress they were making.

Chapter XXVI It happened once that he became concerned that the neighbouring peasantry in caring for their flocks did not receive the communion of Christ's Sacraments nor hear the solemn reading of the divine books which solemnly took place everywhere on Saturdays and Sundays. So he consulted with the holy Aprius, bishop of Tentyri, with a view to building a church in what passed for their village centre to which they could all come and participate in the divine mysteries. This was done, but since there were no ordained clerics to celebrate the solemnities for the people, he would go there with some monks at the usual hour for churchgoing, and read some pages to the people with their messages of saving grace. As he said, no readers had as yet been appointed, nor any other clerics to celebrate the sacred mysteries. So for as long as there was no presbyter there, or any of the other members of the clerical order, Pachomius would come and carry out the duties of reader with such unashamed eagerness and with his mind and body so focussed, that when the people attended to him they might have thought they were looking not at a man but an Angel. As a result of this programme many were converted from error and became Christians. His love of neighbour was so advanced, and his compassion so great, that when he saw anyone deceived by the devil, worshipping not the true God but vain idols, he would groan loudly because they were lost, and pour forth floods of tears that they might be saved.

Chapter XXVII The holy Athanasius was bishop of Alexandria at that time, [He became bishop in 328.] a man outstanding in every virtue. He had been making a solemn visitation of all the churches in the upper Thebaid, building up the people's faith in Christ by his wholesome teachings, when his journeyings brought him to Tabennisi. As soon as Pachomius knew about it he went out to meet him with all his monks, leaping for joy in great happiness. They greeted this great pontiff of Christ with psalms and hymns, a vast multitude of brothers rejoicing in the Lord for his coming. But Pachomius did not introduce himself to this famous leader, but deliberately drew back and hid himself among the throng of monks. His reason for that was that the aforesaid bishop of Tentyri had often spoken about him to the holy Athanasius, suggesting that he was a marvellous man and a true servant of God worthy of being promoted to the honour of the priesthood. It was the knowledge of this that led Pachomius to make himself inconspicuous and hide himself away among the ranks of the monks until the bishop had gone. Pachomius respected Athanasius as being someone than whom there was no one more outstanding at that time. He had heard about his holy life and the persecutions he had suffered from the Arians because of his confession of Christ. He admired unreservedly the love which he showed to all but especially to monks, and respected him with his whole heart. But he accorded the greatest respect not only to Athanasius but to all men of true faith. He detested heretics completely, and had a particular horror of Origen as a blasphemous traitor and a precursor of Arius and Meletius. Arius had been expelled from the church by the venerable Heraclas, former bishop of Alexandria, because he had added many hateful and detestable things to the teachings of holy Scripture and thereby subverted quite a few souls. Just as poisoners disguise a bitter taste with honey, so did Origen bedaub the poison of his erroneous opinions with a most heavenly ability to write well, and so disseminated his pernicious doctrines among those who did not know any better. So Heraclas was careful to warn all the brothers not merely to refrain from reading any of Origen's commentaries, buts also to pay no heed to anyone who had read them. It is said that on one occasion he picked up a volume of Origen's and threw it into the sea. "If it weren't for the fact that I know that it contains the holy Name of God," he said as he did so, "I would have consigned all those outpourings of blasphemy to the flames!" Thus he loved the true faith and always sought for the truth. Just as he opposed the enemies of the church with unremitting detestation, so he acclaimed joyfully the increasing numbers of Catholics, and declared that he could discern Christ the redeemer of all speaking through the bishops (sacerdotes) in the royal power of the Church. If ever he heard of a brother slandering anyone on any matter, he not only stopped trusting him but avoided him as if he were a serpent, citing the Psalmist who said 'I will cut off him who secretly slanders his neighbour' (Psalms 101. 5). "No good person," he said, "allows evil to come out of his mouth and insult the holy fathers with venomous tongue. There are many places in the Scriptures showing how God is angry at such offences. Think of the example of Miriam who poured out disparaging remarks about Moses and became infected with leprosy (Numbers 12.10). She had no chance of avoiding the judgment of God." By this teaching he conferred great benefits upon his listeners.

Chapter XXVIII [This story of Pachomius' meeting with his sister is ascribed to Theodore in Book III, chapter 34.]

His sister had heard of the old man's deservedly famous institution, and journeyed to the monastery in order to see him. When Pachomius knew she was there he sent her this message by the doorkeeper: "Look, sister, you have heard that I am alive and well, so therefore depart in peace. Don't be sad that you have not been able to see me with your bodily eyes. But if you desire to follow the same sort of life as I am leading, so that you may find mercy from God, take diligent thought about it, and if you can assure me that this purpose has taken root in your heart I will bid my brothers to build you a house at some distance from here where you can live a disciplined and modest life. And I don't doubt that by your example God will call many to live with you and be counted worthy through you to gain the reward of everlasting salvation. For it is not possible for human beings to get any rest in this mortal flesh unless they please God by their dedication to a good life." His sister wept bitterly on hearing this, her conscience pricked by godly compunction, but she took his wholesome exhortations to heart and determined to set herself to follow Christ. When Pachomius realised his sister's intentions, he gave thanks to God who had so quickly strengthened her will, and gave orders to the more responsible of his brothers that they should build a cell for her at some distance. This was done, and she began to live the life in the fear of God. It was not long before many others gathered around her and she had become the mother of a great multitude. In her teaching she provided them with a means of openly renouncing all carnal desires in order to attain to heaven which perishes not, and she led the way on that journey as much by her living as by her teaching.



Chapter XXVIII (continued), Life of Pachomius, Book 1a

Pachomius appointed Peter, an outstanding monk of a venerable old age, to visit these sisters from time to time, so that he might support them with his holy instructions. He was a man who had mortified all his passions, and whose speech was well seasoned with salt, as the Apostle said (Colossians 4.6), and was most chaste in mind and body. Again and again he spoke to the virgins of Christ on the holy Scriptures, pointing out to them what was necessary for salvation. And Pachomius wrote Rules for them whereby they might together guide the direction of their lives. Except for the sheepskin cloak which women did not wear, the shape of their rules was exactly the same as for the monks. If one of the monks wanted to visit a sister or some other close relation in the women's monastery, an older monk of proven integrity was appointed to go with him. This man would first of all approach the woman in charge, after which, in the presence of them and other older women, the monk could then see his sister or relation in all propriety and holiness. They were not allowed to give each other anything, for neither of them had anything of their own to give. It was sufficient for them that they were able to visit each other and bear in mind the hope of future everlasting bliss. If the women needed any building work done by the monks, the work was entrusted to men of proven character who would oversee the brothers' work as they laboured in the fear of God. They would not be given anything to eat or drink by the women, but would return to their monastery when it was time to eat. There was only one Rule observed daily by both women and men, except for the sheepskin, as we have said. When any of the virgins died, the others carried out the necessary burial rites and carried the body down to the river which separated the two monasteries, singing the customary psalms. The monks then would cross the river bearing branches of palm and olive, and singing the psalms would carry her back to bury her with joy in their own cemetery.

Chapter XXIX This way of life began to be noised abroad far and wide, and the name of Pachomius became well known everywhere, giving rise to universal thanksgiving towards God. Numbers of people were renouncing the affairs of the world and turning to this extraordinary monastic way of life and its spiritual search. Theodore was numbered among them, and this is the story of his conversion. He was a young man of nearly fourteen years of age, of Christian parents, highly respected in the world. On the eleventh day of the Egyptian month Tybi, that is, the eighth day before the Ides of January, [Jan 6, at that time the feast of the Baptism of our Lord, sometimes associated with the Nativity. Today, the Feast of the Epiphany.] a certain Egyptian festival was being celebrated as usual. He was giving thanks to God, aware that he had a large and splendid house and an abundance of possessions of all kinds, when he suddenly felt compunction in his heart. "What will it profit you, O Theodore," he began to wonder, "if you gain the whole world (Mark 8.36) and enjoy all its worldly delights, at the price of being excluded from the good things of eternal and immortal life? No one who lives only for present pleasure can expect the reward of unending glory." In a great turmoil over these thoughts he went into an inner chamber of his house and fell weeping on his face. "Almighty God, who know the secrets of our hearts," he prayed, "you know that there is nothing in this world that is more important to me than your love. So I beg you in your mercy to guide me in your will and enlighten my miserable soul lest in the darkness of my sins I fall into eternal death. Grant that by the gift of your redemption I may praise and glorify you for ever. " As he was praying thus his mother came in and saw his eyes were full of tears. "Why are you so sad, my beloved son?" she asked. "And why are you hiding away from us? We have been worried and upset, looking for your everywhere so that you can share our festival banquet." "Go and have your banquet, mother," he said. "For my part I could not eat a thing." She continued to beg him, but in vain. He would not come and join them in the feast. Daily while going to school to learn his letters he began to fast at least until vespers, though he would often fast for two days at a time. He abstained from all rich and fancy foods for a period of two years, striving to attain to perfect continence, in so far as his young age would allow. He began to wonder whether he should seek out a monastery and bind himself to a holy Rule. He gave up all that he had and sought out some religious men living a godly life together, and went to live with them, progressing daily in the fear of God.

Chapter XXX These monks had a holy custom of gathering together after the evening prayers to meditate on the divine wisdom, and it so happened one evening that Theodore heard one of them talking of what the tabernacle of the old Testament and the holy of holies signified for people of the present day. "As regards those whose foreskins were circumcised," he said, "the outer court of the temple signified the early Jewish people, but the inner court, the holy of holies, prefigured the vocation of all the gentiles, that is, a vocation to be found worthy of entering into the more sacred place in order to participate in the greater mysteries. Instead of the animal sacrifices, the manna in the ark, the flowering rod of Aaron and the tables of the Law, the thurible, the table, and the propitiatory candelabra, God himself has mercifully made himself known to us in the person of his incarnate Word, and enlightened us with the light of his presence, and has become himself the propitiation for our sins. Instead of manna he has given us his own body for food. "This teaching I learned from our holy father Pachomius," this same brother went on to say. "He has begun to gather monks together in his monastery of Tabennisi, and by God's help I made great progress while I was among them. And I bear in mind that through this great man all my sins were forgiven." Theodore found his heart burning as he listened to this, and he prayed silently. "O Lord God, if this is what a righteous man on earth should be like, grant that I may see him and follow in his footsteps in obedience to all his commands, that so I may be found worthy to enjoy all those good things which you have promised to those who love you." And he wept freely, overcome by the wound of divine love. A few days later the venerable Pecusius, a man of a distinguished old age, came to visit them, desirous of knowing how they did. Theodore earnestly begged him to take him as his companion and guide him to the holy Pachomius. Without any argument he freely agreed to do so, and when they arrived there Theodore worshipped the Lord. "Blessed are you, O Lord," he said, "for answering so quickly the prayers of sinners. You have deigned to grant me what I asked." And as soon as he entered the monastery and saw Pachomius he wept for joy. "Don't weep, my son," the venerable father said, "for I am only a sinful human being, trying to do the work of God." Having said that, he introduced him into the monastery. Theodore's mind lit up when he saw how many brothers there were, and he flung himself with great zeal into the round of daily worship. In the course of time he made great strides in virtue. God showered great gifts upon him; he became practised both in good works and good words, with a wonderful humility and heartfelt contrition, meticulous in his fasting, wide awake in his vigils, earnest in prayer, losing no opportunity to seek after ever greater gifts of spiritual grace. He was able to give great comfort to those who were in some distress, and knew how to correct with humility and good will those who had strayed into some misdemeanour. Pachomius could see what a brilliant and shining example he was, and took him to his heart and loved him deeply.

Chapter XXXI As soon as his mother heard that he was with Pachomius, she got the bishops to write a letter requesting that she should be reunited with her son, and armed with this she hurried to visit him. She lodged with the virgins in the monastery which, as we have said, was at some distance from the men, and sent the bishops' letter to the holy Pachomius, with an earnest request that he would allow her to see her son. Pachomius summoned Theodore to him. "I have to tell you, my son," he said, "that your mother is here and wants to see you. She has even brought letters to us from the bishops. So make haste and satisfy your mother, especially seeing that she brings a letter which the holy bishops have written." "Venerable father," he replied, "I have gained some knowledge of spiritual things. Before I do as you ask please first assure me that if I do see her I will not have to answer for it in the day of judgment. Like anyone else in the world I have given her due respect according to the commandments of Christ. But in the times before the manifestation of Christ's grace, the sons of Levi turned their backs upon their own parents in order to fulfil the righteousness of the law (Exodus 32.26-28, Leviticus 21.11, Deuteronomy 33. 8-9). Is it not even more incumbent upon me, who have been made partaker of such great gifts, to put the love of God before love of parents? The Lord says in the Gospel, 'He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me' (Matthew 10.37) ". "If you have decided it would not be right to see her," Pachomius replied, "I will not bring any pressure to bear on you. Those who utterly renounce this world do need to deny themselves completely. Monks especially ought to flee from all idle and worldly meetings and meaningless conversations, and associate seriously only with those who are members of Christ. For if anyone governed by some worldly passion says, 'My parents are my flesh. Therefore I ought to love them', he should pay attention to what the blessed Peter the Apostle says, 'A man is in bondage to anyone who overcomes him' (2 Peter 2. 19)." When Theodore's mother realised that he was not going to meet her, she decided to stay permanently in the monastery with the virgins of Christ, saying to herself, "If the Lord wills, I may at least catch sight of him among the other monks, and I shall also bring benefits to my own soul for as long as I persevere in this way of life. It is certain that those who maintain a strict discipline for Christ's sake and not for the sake of vainglory will acquire virtue upon virtue, and in a short space of time will give offence to none."

Chapter XXXII We have shown his zeal in encouraging those who had a desire to seek after better things; so now we think it is right to describe those who were negligent, by way of a warning to our readers. For there were some monks living after the flesh and making no attempt to put off the old man (Colossians 3.9), about whom Pachomius was very worried. He frequently spoke to them with words of salutary advice, but could never see any signs of improvement in them. Worried and sad, he besought the Lord ever more earnestly. "O Lord, Ruler of all," he prayed, "You have commanded us that we love our neighbour as ourselves (Leviticus 19.18, Matthew 19.19). You know the secrets of our hearts. Turn not your face away from me as I cry out to you for their salvation. Have mercy on them, fill them with the fear of God, that knowing your power they may serve you truly, strengthened in all they do by hoping in your promises; for my soul is greatly troubled because of them, and my whole being is in distress." After a few days he could see that they had not improved a bit as a result of his prayers. Once more he stood in prayer, praying for them to the Lord, and he also gave them some private and personal rules of prayer and behaviour, in the hope that by applying themselves to obey rules like slaves they might little by little aspire to the gift of loving him as sons. They found that they were not going to be able to follow their own desires and went in mortal dread of Pachomius, inspired by fear of him rather than moved by his purity. They fell utterly into error and departed from the monastery, following Satan and rejecting the wonderful way of life followed by Pachomius. But once they had gone, the whole flock was restored to a state of integrity, increasing more and more in virtues, just as the good grain is able to flourish in the field when the weeds have been rooted out. I have told you all this to show you that although there is nothing against worldly people embracing a monastic life, nevertheless their venerable profession will be of no use to the monks if they persist in being negligent, for neither paternal prayer nor understanding will be able to help the idle.

Chapter XXXIII The sometime confessor Dionysus, presbyter and oeconomus (that is, steward) of the Church of Tentyri, was someone whom the holy Pachomius loved dearly. Learning from somebody that Pachomius would not allow people coming from another monastery to eat with his own brothers, but kept them separate in another place outside the monastery, he came to see Pachomius in some agitation. "It is not right, abba," he said, more in anger than in gentle admonition, "that you don't treat everyone with the impartial charity that brothers deserve." Pachomius took this reproof with great patience and resignation. "The Lord knows what my purpose is in doing this," he replied, "and your fatherly nature must also accept that I don't want to upset anybody, much less despise them. Why should I do that, provoking my Lord into being angry with me, when he has clearly said in the Gospel that 'what you do unto the least of these my brothers you do unto me' (Matthew 25.40)? So listen to my explanation, venerable father. It is not that I wish to shun or despise anyone who comes to me that I do what you say I do. My own flock are gathered together in the coenobium. I am aware that many of them are so far unlearned in the monastic way of life that they have not yet even received the monastic habit. Some of them are quite young, and so ignorant that they hardly know their right hand from their left. So I thought it better that brothers from another monastery should be received with all honour and respect in a different place. I hardly think that this constitutes any insult to fathers and brothers who change over to us. On the contrary they are received with more than due reverence, especially seeing that they come together with us at the regular hours to worship God, after which they each go to the place allotted to them, where they work in silence. I am careful before God to supply them with everything they need." Having listened to all this, Dionysius the presbyter agreed that Pachomius was worthy of great praise, and said that he was sure that everything was being done according to the will of God. Much enlightened by the explanation that the holy Pachomius had given him, he went back to his own place.

Chapter XXXIV There was a woman in the city of Tentyri who suffered from an issue of blood and had struggled with this disability for many years. She had heard that Pachomius worshipped God in a most marvellous and holy way, and was moreover aware that Dionysius the presbyter was a dearly beloved friend of his. She begged him to have pity on her and ask Pachomius to come and visit him on some business or other. He was moved by the woman's prayers and acted without delay. When Pachomius came to the church and greeted Dionysius after the prayers, she was seated nearby. As they were talking to each other, she summoned up her faith, believing she could hear Christ saying, 'Be of good comfort, my daughter. Your faith has made you whole' (Matthew 9.22). She came up quietly behind him and touched the cowl with which he covered his head. Immediately she was cured. She fell face down and worshipped the Lord, glorifying his mercy that through his servants he bestowed such great benefits on those who believe in him. The holy Dionysius realised what had happened and gave a blessing to the woman, who forthwith went back to her home.

Chapter XXXV It was decided once that the monastery should be protected by being enclosed with a palisade and ditch, and Pachomius himself cheerfully played a great part in the work which the brothers undertook. A little later, a presbyter-monk who was the father of many brothers paid one of his frequent visits to the holy Pachomius, this time bringing with him a brother who was the cause of some dissension in their monastery. For this brother, since the time when he had arrived, had greatly pestered him to be given the dignity of being ordained but the presbyter judged him to be unworthy of such a gift, and had been putting him off with various excuses. It got to the point where he could no longer abide his importunity, and came to the holy Pachomius to lay the whole matter before him, confident that he was the only one who could settle such disputes. Once Pachomius had fully grasped what it was all about, he gave the presbyter his opinion. "Now you have come to me to discover what is the will of God, haven't you? My opinion is that you should give him what he asks and don't worry about it. It is quite probable that by exercising this office his soul will be freed from the power of the devil, for it often happens that when a bad man is given great blessings he amends his life. A desire for betterment is often the occasion for the growth of a genuine devotion and it becomes possible for at least some souls to cultivate the virtues which they have hitherto neglected through laziness. So I think it is right for the brother to do this, and it will be pleasing to God." The presbyter accepted this opinion and acted upon it. And the brother who had had his wish granted came to the blessed Pachomius in a most tranquil and self-effacing frame of mind and fell on his face before him. "O man of God," he said, "you stand most high in God's favour. For you have discerned what is necessary for salvation and turned evil into good. For if you had not been kind and understanding towards me but treated me sternly I might have discarded my habit and been lost to God for ever. But now, blessed are you in the Lord, for you have saved my soul." The old man lifted him up from the ground and earnestly entreated him to live worthy of the dignity which would be conferred upon him, lest being negligent he suffer the pains of future torment. He embraced him and went with him as far as the monastery gates before sending him on his way in peace

Chapter XXXVI While Pachomius was still standing there, a man who had come from some distance away ran towards him and followed after him, begging him for the love of Christ to cure his daughter who was possessed of a demon. Pachomius left him outside and sent back a message to him through the gatekeeper. "It is not our custom to speak with women," he said, "but if you have got any of her clothing with you, send it in to us and we will bless it in the name of the Lord and give it back to you straight away. We trust in Christ that by this means your daughter will be freed from the attacks of the enemy." A tunic belonging to the girl was brought to the holy man, which he examined very gravely. "This is not hers," he said. "Yes it is," said the father. "Truly it is." "Yes, I know it is really hers," said Pachomius. "But although she is a virgin dedicated to God, she has not maintained her holy purity. It was for this reason that having inspected her tunic, and sensing that she had been neglectful of her holy chastity, I declared that it was not hers. Let her promise to you in the sight of God that from now on she will be continent and Christ will have mercy on her and restore her to health." Grieving and angry, the father interrogated his daughter, and she at last confessed to him that it was even as the holy Pachomius had said. She swore with an oath that she would not ever behave like that again, and the blessed man prayed for her to the Lord and sent her some blessed oil. Anointing with the oil immediately effected a cure, and she glorified God anew for delivering her not only from the demon but also from a repugnant practice. And for the rest of her life by Christ's help she was liberated to practise continence.

Chapter XXXVII The reputation of this holy man was spreading everywhere so rapidly that it is not surprising that another man who had a son possessed by a demon should with great lamentation have begged Pachomius on bended knee to pray for his son to the almighty power of Christ. He was not able to bring his son to the monastery, but Pachomius prayed for him and gave him some blessed bread, with exact instructions that his son should take a little bit of this medicine before a meal. When it was time for his son to eat he gave him some of this bread, but the unclean spirit would not at all allow him to eat it, though he picked up other bread which was put in front of him and ate that. So the father broke the bread into smaller bits, took the stones out of some dates and put pieces of the bread inside them. He placed nothing else besides the dates in front of him, hoping that all unwittingly his son might receive a blessing. But he opened the dates up, pulled out the pieces of bread, cursed the dates and refused to eat anything at all. So the father kept him entirely without any food for several days, until at last, faint with hunger, he did eat some of the blessed bread. He immediately fell into a deep sleep, and was liberated from the evil spirit. And the father took the son with him to Pachomius, praising and glorifying God, who through his servants does such great and glorious things without number. This most blessed man did many other healings in the power of the holy Spirit, but never got conceited or took any credit to himself, for he had this gift from God that he always treated everyone the same, and never let his mind stray away from the discipline of Christ. And if he ever asked anything from God and his petition was not granted he was never in the least cast down but bore it patiently, knowing that whatever the divine mercy prescribed was right for him as well as for everybody else. Sometimes, with the best of intentions we ask for the wrong things, which are not granted because the goodness of God sees fit to overrule them. It is a great mercy of God not to grant our petitions when they are veiled in the night of our own ignorance.





Life of Pachomius, Book 1a (continued)

Chapter XXXVIII A certain young man named Silvanus gave up his life on the stage to live in the monastery with Pachomius. But after being received he continued living in the same disreputable worldly way, ignoring the disciplines of the Rule and neglectful of his own salvation. He spent his days in the ridiculous empty pastimes of his former life, and even achieved some following among the brothers persuading them to imitate him. Most of the brothers objected to this and urged the holy Pachomius to expel him from the monastery. But he would not agree to that, but bore it all with equanimity. He spoke to the brother, urging him to amend his ways and give up his former lifestyle. He prayed constantly to God for him, that out of the accustomed abundance of his mercy he might fill the young man's heart with compunction. But the youth persisted in his dissolute ways, an example of a lost soul if ever there was one, until at last everyone agreed that he should be cut off from the congregation as being completely unworthy. But Pachomius still begged to differ. He plied him with the most wise and gentle warnings, and gave him instructions in the wisdom of heaven, with the result that he began to burn so fiercely with the fear of God, and was filled with such trepidation about his future fate, that from then on he was completely unable to refrain from tears. Completely reformed, he became like a book in which everyone else could read what conversion really was. He wept continually wherever he was and whatever he was doing. Even when the brothers were eating he could not cease from lamentation. This annoyed many of the monks. "Stop your everlasting weeping," they said. "Please, just throw off these expressions of grief." "However much I try," he replied, "I simply cannot stop crying, as you ask. For my breast burns as if it is on fire, and gives me no peace." "Well weep privately, then, or if you must, during the prayers, but at least when we gather for a meal you ought to stop weeping and eat. For it is perfectly possible to maintain compunction in your soul without all these exterior manifestations of grief. Many of the brothers are quite put off their food when they see you weeping so freely. Tell us now, why is it that you can't moderate your tears?" "Would you not have me weep, when I am aware of how much I am supported by you holy brothers? I worship the dust under your feet and don't consider myself at all worthy of being part of your company. Should I not weep, when a man of the stage, guilty of many sins, receives such kindnesses? I go in constant fear lest like Dathan and Abiron I should be swallowed up in my wickedness by a hole in the earth (Numbers 16.32). Those men of unclean hands and deeds had attempted to take over power; and I who am so much aware of the gifts of God have likewise scorned my own salvation by reason of my disgraceful deeds. With this constantly in mind I am not ashamed to weep in front of you all. For I know what sins I am capable of, and I must needs expiate them by my constant fountains of tears. So if I pour out my soul in lamentations it is not really any great thing I am doing. Indeed, at this time I cannot think of any punishment adequate for my sins." This brother progressed to better things day by day and outstripped all his brothers in humility. So much so that the holy Pachomius had this to say about him in the presence of all the brothers: "I tell you my brothers and sons, before God and the holy Angels by whom this coenobium was founded, there is only one person that I know of who has followed my teachings on humility." Some of the brothers thought he was talking of Theodore, others of Petronius, others yet again of Orsesius. Theodore begged him to tell whom he was talking about, the holy man demurred, and Theodore asked him again more urgently. The greater part of the brothers also strongly urged him to say who it was who merited such praise. "Well, I wouldn't tell you," said Pachomius, "if I thought that the person of whom I have been speaking would succumb to vainglory, but I have not the slightest doubt that by the grace of Christ he would increase in humility however much he might be praised, so I need have no fear in openly singing his blessed praises. "Now you, Theodore, and others like you, have trapped the devil like a sparrow in a cage, and by the grace of God you have trampled him under your feet and crushed him to dust. But if, which God forbid, you are neglectful in anything he who is under your feet will rise up and rave against you with a terrible fury. But this young Silvanus, whom not long ago you wanted to drive out of the monastery, has put to death his own desires and laid the enemy so low that no one can compare with him. His humility is greater than anyone's. Indeed, whereas you, my brothers, derive satisfaction from the works of righteousness that you do, this young man judges himself to be lower than everyone, however hard he fights himself. With complete conviction he judges himself to be useless and lacking in every kind of virtue. That is why he cries so readily, because he lowers himself and humiliates himself, and does not reckon anything that he does to be important. There is nothing like the humility of a pure heart, together with amendment of life, to destroy the power of the devil." Silvanus valiantly fought under the banner of Christ for another eight years before coming to the end of his life in peace. The blessed Pachomius testified of his going that a host of holy Angels carried off his soul with great rejoicing, offering him up as a chosen vessel in the sight of Christ.

Chapter XXXIX At this time, the way in which Pachomius was presiding over such a remarkable way of life came to the attention of Varus, the bishop of the city of Panos. He was a man highly respected in all his doings, devoted to God, standing out as one who fervently loved the true faith. He sent letters to Pachomius, telling him at great length of his desire that Pachomius should come and build monastic cells (monasteria) near his city. For a number of reasons he agreed to the bishop's request, and as he set out on his journey he decided it would be right to visit on the way the monasteries under the bishop's pastoral care. As he approached one of these monasteries he met the funeral procession of one of the brothers who had recklessly taken his own life. The brothers of the monastery were conducting the funeral with all ceremony, singing the usual psalms, with the friends and relations of the dead person all present. When they saw Pachomius they set down the bier and asked him to pray for the dead man as well as for themselves. Having finished the required prayer he turned to the brothers. "Stop singing psalms," he said. "Take off those splendid vestments you have clothed him with, burn the lot of them, and take the corpse to be buried without any further psalm-singing." The parents of the dead man, the brothers, and everyone else that was there were thus suddenly confronted in utter astonishment with this unheard of situation. They begged the old man that at least they should be permitted to sing the usual psalms over him, but he wouldn't agree. "What is the idea of this new procedure?" the parents asked accusingly. "Who would not pay their respects to the dead, even if they are in disgrace? The tragedy of his death in itself is quite enough to bear. What you are doing is worse than behaving like a wild beast and does not say much for your reputation of holiness. Besides, our own reputation will become completely dishonoured, and we shall be suspected of all sorts of other hidden wickednesses. If only we had never come to this place; if only he had never become a monk! Don't inflict on us a grief which will never go away. We beg that you will restore the singing of the usual psalms for the dead." "Truly, my brothers and children," said Pachomius in reply, "I grieve for you in the presence of this dead person inasmuch as you are thinking only of what is visible and temporal. My concern is for his present state which we cannot see, which is why I have made these decisions. And you would be bringing even more grief upon him by these so-called honours. I want him to expiate his evil deed, in the hope that he might gain some small measure of eternal rest. I am not thinking of his bodily life. What I have decided is for the benefit of his immortal soul, which will be given back his flesh incorrupt and whole in the day of resurrection. If I were to agree to what you want I would be thought of as one who bowed to human judgment, but I scorn to be seen as one who seeks only to satisfy your wishes for this present moment, rather than seek the best interests of this man in the world to come. "Our God is the fountain of all goodness, and he seeks opportunities to pour out upon us the overflowing gifts of his own beneficence and to forgive us our sins, not only in this world but in the world to come. It says in the Gospel, 'Whoever blasphemes against the holy Spirit will not be forgiven, neither in this world or in the world to come' (Matthew 12.32), which means that there are some sins which undoubtedly can be forgiven if penance is done for them. We have been considered worthy by the power of Christ to administer the medicine prescribed by his godhead, and if we do not pronounce judgments appropriate for each particular case we shall fall into disrepute as despisers, as Scripture says, 'Behold, you despisers, and wonder, and perish' (Habakkuk 1.5 & Acts 13.41). So, therefore, I beg you to allow this dead person to be humiliated because of his sins, if only so that he may be found worthy of obtaining some measure of rest in the day of judgement. Bury him without the psalms, as I have said. Our kind and clement and most merciful God is well able to grant him eternal rest in response to our unadorned prayers." When he had finished, they all went on their way and did as the venerable father had said, burying him on the mountainside where his tomb had been prepared.

Chapter XL The holy man stayed with the monks for several days, and taught them first of all how each one should live in the fear of God, and then how they should fight against the devil, and by the grace of Christ turn away from his attacks. Messengers then came to tell him that a brother of the monastery of Chinobosci was seriously ill, and begged the blessing of a final prayer from Pachomius. The man of God immediately set off in all haste with the messengers, and as they were hurrying along about two or three miles from the monastery they were going to, he heard the most beautiful voice sounding in the air, and looking up saw that brother's soul being swiftly carried up to the blessed realms of everlasting life by Angels praising the Lord. Pachomius' companions neither heard nor felt anything at all, but only saw him gazing steadily towards the East. "Why are you just standing there, father?" they asked him. "We need to hurry if we are to get there in time." "There is no point in hurrying," he said. "What I have been gazing at for so long is the brother being taken up into the joys of eternity." They asked him to explain how he had seen the soul, and he told them what he had seen in as far as they could understand it. When they arrived at the monastery they asked what time the brother had fallen asleep, and found that everything they had learned from the holy man was true. I have told you about this for two reasons. Firstly, to show that this blessed old man had supersensitive sight and possessed the gift of prophecy, being able to see things at a distance by intellectual vision, and secondly, that we who follow in the footsteps of such men should carefully avoid the company of the wicked. And I think that I have now said enough about such things.

Chapter XLI When the holy Pachomius and the monks came at last to the bishop of Chinobosci, he was welcomed with the greatest of respect, and a great celebration was held because of his arrival. He was told the places where it was hoped that monastic cells would be built, as was stated in the letters some time before, and the venerable man set about building them immediately. In the process of building surrounding walls to prevent break-ins, some detestable people, blinded with envy by the devil, came by night and destroyed what had been built so far. The punishment for their wrongdoing was not long delayed. For while the old man was urging his disciples to put up with all this patiently, those wicked people came intending to finish the destruction which they had begun. But the Angel of the Lord immediately consumed them by fire, and they were reduced to nothing, like wax cast into the flames. The brothers then quickly finished the whole building, where Pachomius installed religious men as monks, and put Samuel in charge of them. He was a very pleasant man, endowed with a great gift of self-denial. Once the monastic cells had been built, the holy man decided to stay there for some time, until those whom he had brought together should become established in the gifts of Christ.

Chapter XLII During this time a philosopher of that same city came to visit them, having heard of their reputation as servants of God, wanting to know what they were like and what they thought they were doing. Seeing some of the monks he asked them to call the father, as he had several things he would like to discuss with him. When Pachomius knew it was a philosopher, he sent Cornelius and Theodore to him, telling them to answer his questions as prudently as they could. "We have heard many accounts," said the philosopher when they met, "of how you give yourselves to the study of wisdom, and that you are known to be able to give wise answers to anyone who enquires about your religion, for which you have a great love. I would like to ask you about what you have gathered in to your store of wisdom." "Ask what you like," said Theodore. "Would you settle the question for me about anything I might ask you?" "Tell me what you have in mind." "Who died without being born? Who was born but never died? Who died but did not suffer corruption?" "There is nothing very difficult about your questions, O philosopher. They can easily be answered. He who died without being born was Adam, the first man. He who was born but never died was Enoch, who pleased God and was translated (Genesis 5.24). The one who died but did not suffer corruption was Lot's wife who was turned into a pillar of salt, and remains there to this day as an example to all who do not believe (Genesis 19.26). And my advice to you, O philosopher, is that you give up your inept propositions and empty questions and turn without delay to the true God whom we worship, and receive remission of your sins to your eternal salvation." Quite confounded, the philosopher went away without asking any more questions, overcome with admiration at the sharpness of the reply which he got so quickly.

Chapter XLIII Pachomius spent several more days in these newly constructed cells before going on to another monastery under his control. As all the brothers hurried out to meet him with a great welcome, a little child from the congregation, running about among them, shouted out to Pachomius. "Truly, father, since the last time you were here there have not been any vegetables or pulses cooked for us." "Don't worry, my son," Pachomius replied kindly, "I will cook you some." He went into the monastery and after the prayers went to the kitchen where he found the brother in charge making psiathoi (that is, rush mats), known in the vernacular as mattae. "Tell me, brother," asked Pachomius, "how long is it since you cooked any vegetables or pulses for the brothers?" "Almost two months." "Why have you been acting like this against the Rule and depriving the brothers of this benefit?" "I had been trying daily, venerable father," he replied, making his humble excuses, "to carry out my duty, but whatever it was that I cooked did not get eaten because they were all fasting. The boys were the only ones who ate anything cooked. So in order not to waste this food prepared with so much labour and expense I just stopped cooking it. And to keep myself from idleness I have chosen to weave psiathoi with the brothers. Only one of my assistants is needed for preparing what little food the brothers want for their meals, that is olives and herbs." "And how many psiathoi do you reckon you have you made?" "Fifty." "Bring them out for me to see." And when they had been laid out in front of him, he immediately ordered them to be thrown into the fire! "Since you have despised the Rule given you of looking after the brothers, then I condemn your labours to be consumed by fire. For you must know how pernicious it is to break the rules set out by the fathers that provide for the salvation of souls. And are you not aware of what a glorious thing it always is to fast in this present life? The Lord greatly rewards anyone who, as far as he is able, fasts out of consideration for the love of God. But when he has no choice in the matter but is compelled to it by necessity, his forced abstinence is useless, and he can expect a reward in vain. But when there is a variety of dishes placed in front of them, by partaking sparingly of them they demonstrate that their whole hope is in God. If they don't see the food, if they are never given any chance of seeing it, how can they expect a reward from God for their abstinence? For the sake of a petty concern for cost the brothers ought not to be deprived of this opportunity."

Chapter XLIV As soon as he had finished speaking and correcting their errors the gatekeeper came to him in some haste, saying that certain highly respected anchorites had arrived wanting to see him. He said they were to be brought in, and after greeting them with due reverence and saying a prayer he showed them round the brothers' cells and all the other parts of the monastery. They then asked the old man if they could discuss certain matters with him, so he took them to his own cell and sat down with them. As they began a heated discussion about certain abstruse and arcane subjects Pachomius began to notice a terrible smell. It was so bad that he couldn't think, much less contribute to the discussion. When the time for the evening meal at the ninth hour drew near they stood up and said they must go. The holy man strongly invited them to stay for a meal, but they would not, saying that they had to return to their own place before sunset. They bade farewell and set out without delay. The holy Pachomius, wanting to know the cause of the smell, then prostrated himself in prayer, begging the Lord to reveal to him what kind of people these were. It was made known to him then that it was the impiety of the opinions which they held that had sent out such a stench from their hearts. Without delay he followed them and caught them up. "I would just like to ask you something," he said. "Ask, by all means." "You have been reading the Commentaries of Origen, haven't you." Of course, they denied it. "Before God I say to you that anyone who reads Origen and agrees with his depraved opinions will be sent to the lowest parts of Hell, where his inheritance will be worms and outer darkness, where the souls of the wicked suffer eternal punishment. See now, I have taken care to pronounce to you what has been revealed to me by God, so I am in the clear. You will know if you have spurned what is right. If you would agree with me and please God in all things, drown all the books of Origen in the river lest you be also drowned with them." Upon which he left them and went back to resume his accustomed life of virtue, where he found the brothers standing in prayer, and joined with them in singing the hymns and spiritual canticles.

Chapter XLV As the monks went to their meal Pachomius betook himself to his own cell where he was accustomed to pray to the Lord. Shutting the door he fell to earnest prayer as he thought of the vision which he had just seen. He begged the Lord to reveal to him what would be the future state of his monks and what would happen to his congregation after he was dead. He prayed from the ninth hour up to the time when the brother in charge of the night prayers called him to the usual offices, thus extending the time of his own supplications. As he persevered in prayer, suddenly about midnight he saw a vision in answer to his prayer, which enlightened him a great deal about the state of those who were to come after him. As his monastery grew in size he saw there would be many living devoutly and chastely, but also a great number living negligently who would completely lose their chance of salvation. He saw, so he told me, a crowd of monks in a deep and dark valley, with some of them trying to climb out of it but not being able to. They could not make each other out and so were running about bumping into each other, completely unable to find the way out of that deep and dark place. Some tried in vain because they became overcome with weariness and sank down to lower places still. Others were lying about, weeping with tearful voices. But there were others climbing up with an infinite labour, and as they climbed they were suddenly bathed in light, and gave thanks to God that they were able to escape.





Chapter XLV (continued) Life of Pachomius Book 1a

So Pachomius was given to understand what was to happen in the last days. He grieved for the blinded minds of some who were to come after him, and their erroneous beliefs and falling away from goodness. He grieved especially that the leaders among them (praepositi) would become negligent and idle, wearing the monastic habit but bringing forth no good works. For once the worst kind of people hold the leadership, ignorant of what holy living should be like, strifes and envyings must needs arise, and evil men will be preferred above good men; leaders will be chosen not because of their integrity of life but merely for their seniority, whence good men will have no confidence in speaking up for the good of the community but will be forced to keep silent, lest for their outspoken honesty they suffer great persecution. But what need to go into details of what might happen when everything covered by the holy rules is subverted by human wickedness? Pachomius tearfully cried out to the Lord: "Almighty God, if this is what is going to happen, why did you allow this coenobium to be founded? For if the leaders will be corrupt in those last times, what will they be like who are under their rule? 'If the blind lead the blind they will both fall into the ditch' (Matthew 15.14). Woe is me! I have laboured uselessly and in vain! Lord, be mindful of the zeal with which your gifts have enabled me to work. Be mindful of your servants who have served you with their whole heart. Be mindful of your promise that your testament will be observed till the end of the world by those who worship you (Matthew 15.20). You know, O Lord, that since the time when I took the monastic habit I have humbled myself exceedingly in your sight, nor have I ever indulged to excess in partaking of bread or water or any creature that you have made." And even as he spoke a voice came to him from heaven: "Don't boast, Pachomius. You are only a human being in need of mercy. Everything that I have created continues to exist only through my mercy." Pachomius immediately threw himself on the ground, seeking forgiveness: "Almighty God, let your mercy come upon me that I may live (Psalm 119.77). Take not your mercy from me, for your mercy and truth have sustained me. For I know, O Lord, that all things fall into nothingness without the protection of your help." Angels of light stood about him as he spoke, and a young man was in the midst of them who shone with an indescribable beauty and brilliance, sending forth rays of splendour like the sun, and wearing a crown of thorns upon his head "Pray tell me, O Lord," cried Pachomius, "was it I who crucified you?" "It wasn't you who crucified me," the Lord gently said, "but your parents. But be of good cheer and comfort your heart, for your posterity shall stand for ever, and shall not fail until the end of the world. Those who come after you shall be freed from deep darkness insofar as they have lived in abstinence and taken care for their own salvation. Only those who hold with you at this present time, following the example of your virtues, shine with a great light of grace. But those who after you become embroiled in the darkness of this world will climb out of that great darkness, serving justice and loving eternal life with all their heart, insofar as they shall prudently understand what is to be sought after and what is to be avoided, and are not willingly swayed by merely human considerations. Amen I say to you, they shall be granted the same salvation and eternal rest as those who are with you now in continence and radiant sanctity." Having spoken thus, the Lord ascended into heaven, as the sky was illuminated with such a splendour of light as no human tongue could possibly describe.

Chapter XLVI Pachomius, lost in wonder at what he had been shown, then went to the night office with all the brothers. And when the holy office was complete, the brothers according to their custom gathered round the old man to hear the word of God. And he opened his mouth and taught them: "My little children, with all the power of which you are capable strive bravely after your own salvation, and fight valiantly against the armed might of the enemy, before the time comes when we ourselves shall cry out in misery and lamentation as we grow weak and incapable. Let us not fritter away the days which the Lord has bestowed upon us, but let us develop our virtues with all zeal. For I say to you, if you knew the good things prepared for the saints in heaven, and the torments remaining for those who fall from virtue having known the truth and not embraced it, you would with all your strength flee from that eternal punishment and hasten to obtain that blessed inheritance which has been promised to the servants of God. It is only the evil and abandoned who shun and spurn such blessings, for they know not what they might be losing. It behoves them even now to cast off their worldly desires, weep constantly for their past offences, and seek for the mercy of God that they may turn to better things, and so direct their pathways that they may depart happy from this life and come rejoicing to the heavenly kingdom. "Having cast off its earthly tabernacle, the soul expands in the knowledge of its own inner existence (ad cognitionem suae substantiae properat), and accompanied by the celestial powers hastens to the presence of the Father of lights. Why do human beings exalt themselves in vainglory? Why should a creature of dust be raised up? What have earth and ashes to be proud about? Let us weep while we have time, so that when our long-delayed end comes upon each one of us, we may not then be found begging for a time of repentance when we no longer deserve to be given it. It is in this life that we are given to weep for our sins; as we learn from the holy prophet David: 'Who shall be able to cry to the Lord in hell' (Psalms 6.5)? Unhappy the soul, to be mourned with floods of tears, that having once renounced the world returns to the deeds of the world, that having but now been freed from worldly care returns once more to the service of slavery. So then, my beloved brothers, as the time is short before we are to pass from this fleeting world, let us not allow the perpetual life of blessedness to be taken away from us. "Our earthly parents, immersed as they are in the affairs of the world, and occupied with the business of this present life, are under the impression that we who have fled from the evils of the world already enjoy everlasting life. I tremble in great fear lest they condemn us under those very terms, saying to us, 'Why have you grown weary in your ways, beset with such misery as you are (Wisdom 5.7)? Your sad state is a great grief to us, your destructiveness only adds to our burdens. Our offspring have become quite useless, they do not produce the fruits of which their early flowering gave promise.' I greatly fear lest this prophecy becomes true for us, 'Our loved ones have fallen into disgrace, they have become abominable, the crown has been torn from their brows (Jeremiah 13.18). The cities of the south are closed to us, and there is no one who may open them up. Let the wicked perish and not see the glory of God' (Isaiah 26, according to Septuagint). Let us think on these things, my brothers, and strive with all our strength lest we be overcome by the enemy. For as he is ever on the alert to destroy us, so we must keep careful vigil that we be not destroyed by his deceits, which God forbid. "Above all, let us keep the last day before our eyes, and stand in dread each moment before the punishments of eternal pain. This will encourage the soul to grow in self-knowledge, and keep under the body by vigils and fasts. Persevere in grief and mourning, until you are set alight by the fire of the holy Spirit and are found worthy of the gift of heavenly contemplation, when freed from the contagion of earth you may be filled to overflowing with the words of God. He who at all times meditates upon these things obtains purity of mind and a humble heart; he rejects vainglory and turns his back on the wisdom of the world. "Let our spiritual souls, my brothers, reason daily against the crass matter of the flesh. Deal with it so thoroughly that it may cooperate in aspiring to better things. And when at night you seek your pillow, say to your bodily members, 'As long as we are together, obey me when I tell you what is best for you, and come along with me to serve the Lord with eagerness'. Say to your hands, 'The time will come when your expansive gestures will cease, when your angry pugilistic skills will no longer be, when your palms can no longer be thrust out to steal'. Say to your feet, 'The time will come when you will no longer have the strength to rush headlong into iniquity, when you will not be able to travel in the paths of depravity'. Speak also to all your members at once, and say to them, 'Before we are parted from each other by death, undergoing the punishment which fell upon us by the sin of the first human being, let us do battle bravely, stand unflinchingly, struggle boldly, serve the Lord without fear or hesitation, until he comes again to put an end to our earthly labour and lead us to the kingdom of immortality. Eyes, pour forth tears; flesh, show your nobility by being obedient, and work with me in prayer to my God, lest by preferring rest and sleep you procure for us eternal torment. Be watchful always in everything you do, for it is as you act in sobriety that you will receive an abundant reward of good things.' "But if you are neglectful, swarms of pitiable torments will come upon you, and then you will hear the moans of the soul complaining to the body, 'Woe is me that I am bound to you, undergoing the punishment of eternal condemnation because of you'. "Now, if we reason within ourselves like this, we shall become temples of the Lord, and the holy Spirit will dwell within us, nor shall any craft of Satan be able to encompass us round about. By means of meditations of this sort, the fear of the Lord can teach us more than the doctrines of ten thousand pedagogues and scholars, and the holy Spirit himself will breathe into us whatever we are unable to grasp by human perception. For we know not how to pray as we ought, as the blessed Apostle says, but the Spirit himself prays for us with groans which cannot be uttered (Romans 8.26). "There are many more things I might say to you, but lest I overburden you I will bring an end to my sermon here. Brothers, may the God of peace and grace give you strength and establish you in his fear. Amen" He finished speaking and straightway rose, commended us to God and departed.

Chapter XLVII As he was going back to the monastery of Tabennisi with Theodore and Cornelius and a number of the other brothers, he suddenly stood completely still for a little while in the course of the journey, as if he was having a secret conversation with somebody. He was being made spiritually aware that one of the rules he had made for the monastery was being neglected. For he had decreed that the brothers working in the bakehouse should not indulge in empty chatter when preparing the oblations [i.e. bread for the Eucharist.] but should limit the conversation to edifying topics. He summoned Theodore who was in charge of the monastery. "Make a few judicious and unobtrusive enquiries about any rude conversations the brothers might be indulging in when preparing the oblations," he said, "and make sure you tell me whatever it is that you find." He went away and made diligent enquires, reporting back to the holy Pachomius what he had discovered. "Now wouldn't you think," said Pachomius, "that the rules I gave them to keep were eminently sensible? Don't they realise that neglect of even the least important of rules lays them open to great danger? Didn't the Israelites gladly keep silence for seven days before the city of Jericho, until at the appointed time they all gave a great shout and the city was taken (Joshua 6.10)? Did any of them deceitfully disobey what was really a commandment from God, even though conveyed to them only by a human voice? The monks from now on must observe our rules, if their previous sins of negligence are to be forgiven. After all, we ourselves strictly observe the rules which we prescribe for others." He rejoined the monastery, and after the prayers he visited the brothers who were making psiathoi. [See Chapter XLIII, above.] He sat down with them and began to do some weaving himself. Now, there was a young lad watching him who had been appointed as his assistant for the week. "You are not doing it right, father," he said. "Abba Theodore told us a quite different method." "Show me how I ought to do it, then," said Pachomius. He submitted to the lad's teaching, and sat down again to his work with a perfectly cheerful mind, having banished the spirit of pride by what he had done. For if he had been wise according to the flesh to only the smallest degree, he would not have paid any attention to the instructions of a small boy, but rebuked him for presuming to speak out of turn.

Chapter XLVIII On one occasion when he shut himself away from everyone in solitude, the devil appeared and contended with him in a false guise. "Greetings, Pachomius," he said. "I am Christ paying you a visit, my faithful friend." But guided by the holy Spirit, he thought for a while, then spurned this vision of the enemy. "The coming of Christ always bring peace, and to see him is to be free from all fear and full of joy. Human reason is banished afar and gives way to a longing for heaven. But at this moment I am in a turmoil, gripped by a tumult of confusing thoughts." He rose up and signed himself with the cross, and stretching out his hands as if to seize him, he breathed upon him. "Devil, depart from me," he cried. "Cursed are you and your visions and your insidious arts. You have no place among the servants of God." He was turned to dust, filling the cell with a most foul smell, and Pachomius heard a loud voice shattering the silence: "I would have rewarded you greatly if I had persuaded you into my power. But the power of Christ is supreme, and I am always beaten by you. But make no mistake, I shall always continue to attack you. I am bound to carry out my task without ceasing." So Pachomius was strengthened by the holy Spirit, and put his trust in the Lord, giving thanks for the great gifts and blessings showered upon him.

Chapter XLIX While walking through the monastery one night with Theodore, he was suddenly aware of a great phantasm in the distance, of an immensely seductive appearance. It was dressed as a woman so much more beautiful than any human being could possibly be that it is impossible to portray what it looked like or describe the impression it made. As Theodore looked at it he became exceedingly agitated and the look on his face showed it. The venerable old man could see that Theodore was desperately anxious. "Put your trust in the Lord, Theodore," he said, "and don't be afraid." And he stood in prayer, beseeching the Lord that the presence of his divine majesty might put to flight this stupendous phantasm. As soon as he began to pray, this vision began to dissolve into what it had been before, that is, a multitude of demons. As Pachomius finished his prayers they came towards him and spoke. "Why do you labour in vain when you cannot do anything to harm me? For the Lord has given me power to put to the test anyone I like." "What are you after?" asked Pachomius. "Where do you come from, and who is it you are seeking to put to the test?" "I am the power of the devil," it replied, "and a horde of demons are mine to command. I am the one to cast a holy light upon the earth, disguising the darkness of a death-dealing voluptuousness. I was the one who deceived Judas, and deprived him of the dignity of being an Apostle. Therefore, O Pachomius, I have sought from the Lord that I might wage war against you without ceasing, for I cannot bear the reproaches of the demons any longer that you have show yourself more powerful than all my stratagems and attacks. There is no one like you for making me powerless. For young men and old and even young boys subvert me by your teaching. They almost tread me underfoot. They are so much part of a monastic army gathered against me, surrounded by the indestructible wall of the fear of God, that my servants have no power to seduce by their multiple deceits anyone of your people at all. This is what is happening to us because the word of God was made man, who gave power to you to drive our power far off." "What then?" said Pachomius. "Am I the only one you have come to tempt, or are there others?" "You and everyone like you." "Theodore too?" "I have sought after Theodore also, and power has been given me to put you both to the test, but the trouble is that I can't get anywhere near you!" "Oh, why not?" "In fighting against you both it would seem that I am doing you a favour, but especially you, Pachomius, because you have attained to such heavenly heights that you have been held worthy to see the glory of the Lord with your bodily eyes. But you won't always be with your monks, will you, protecting them with your prayers, and stiffening their resolve by your exhortations. The time will come after your death when I shall rave wildly among them as much as I like, and do with them whatever I please. For it is all your doing that at present I am trodden underfoot by your great congregation of monks." "You miserable idiot, don't you realise that it could well be that better people will come after me, serving Christ with a steadfast will, who will imbue with spiritual knowledge those who take refuge in the discipline of the Lord, and build them up by their godly examples." "My certainty is that you are simply lying, speaking against the mind of God." "No, it is you who are the father of lies, for there is no way that you are able to tell the future. Only God knows the future; it is for his power and majesty to have foreknowledge of all things." "As far as foreknowledge goes, I admit I don't know much but by means of divination I know a great deal." "What do you mean? Divination?" "I deduce the future from what has gone before." "How can you do that! Tell me!" "Every project in the beginning tends as time goes on to prosper, until eventually its impetus weakens. And so I discern that this divine vocation of yours has been strengthened in its beginnings by counsel from heaven, by signs and prodigies, full to overflowing with all kinds of powers. But when it gets a bit older, it will grow less quickly, it will get weary as time stretches out, it will begin to fail through laziness and negligence, and in this situation I shall begin to make some headway. But for the present my task is to overcome whomsoever I can, and I shall not cease to put you great men to the test." "If, as you say, you will not cease from putting great men to the test, and if you claim that your main task is the perdition of souls, and that your malice is greater than all the demons put together, tell me, why is it that at this time you cannot prevail against the servants of God?" "I have already told you. Because of the marvellous incarnation of Christ on earth, we are having to carry on with greatly curtailed powers. Because of those who believe in his name we have become as insignificant as sparrows. Nevertheless, although we are weakened, we have not yet been so completely put out of action that we are prevented from deceiving where we can. For we never rest from sniping at your people. We insinuate evil thoughts into the minds of those who set themselves up against us, and when we sense that they are giving some measure of assent to our titillations we slip in a few thoughts even more disgusting still, and stir up the fires of various kinds of voluptuous excitement. By our subtle undermining tactics we can penetrate their defences and bring them more fully under our power. "On the other hand, if they reject what we suggest to them and pay no attention to us, and if they seriously and vigilantly build up their defences by means of their faith in Christ, we are scattered like a smoke, driven from their hearts and put to flight. We are not allowed to lay siege to all and sundry, because there are some that would not be able to resist our attacks. If we were allowed to deploy all our forces indiscriminately against everyone, we would be able to deceive many who are now protected by your endeavours. But what's the point? They are protected by your virtue and the power of the Crucified." "O how wicked," cried the holy Pachomius with a great groan, "are the unsleeping attacks which you will never cease levelling against the human race, until the power of God shall come again in the person of his Son and consume and destroy you for ever!" And he cursed the horde of demons in the name of Christ, whereupon they were scattered and brought to naught. Next morning Pachomius called together all the brothers who had seniority either by reason of the sanctity of their lives or by the length of their service. He told them all that he had seen and heard from the evil spirits. And he sent warnings by letter to those elsewhere, to strengthen them in the discipline and fear of the Lord, telling them to be on the alert and give no ground at all to demonic phantasms, but to have no fear of the demons' multiform displays. They all heard and understood what had been miraculously revealed to him by the grace of God and continued to endure with all eagerness the burden of labouring after purity of heart.

Chapter L Meanwhile one of the brothers, who zealously imitated the patience shown by the old man, was bitten in the foot by a scorpion while he was standing at prayer. The poison injected into him almost travelled as far as his heart, so that he was almost on his last breath, but although he was in extreme pain he did not move from the spot until he had finished his prayer, whereupon Pachomius immediately poured out prayers to Christ and restored him to his former health.





Life of Pachomius (continued), Book 1a (Also St Abraham, further down this page)

Chapter LI Theodore also suffered terribly once from severe headaches, and he asked Pachomius to pray that he might gain some relief. "Do you think, my son," said Pachomius, "that any griefs or pains or anything else like that can happen to anyone unless God allows it? Therefore, put up with your aches humbly and patiently, and God will give you relief when he wills. And if you seem to be tested in this way for an over long time, be grateful. Job was perfectly patient, and blessed the Lord after suffering many trials and excruciating torments. Do as he did, and you also will receive an even greater reward from Christ. Abstinence and persevering prayer are good things, but the rewards are even greater when infirmity is endured with patience and longsuffering. Now this teaching has come down to us from men of great heart, and I too judge it necessary that for the benefit of many one man should show tolerance beyond human praise."

Chapter LII There was a monk call Zachaeus who suffered from jaundice as a result of his abstinence over a long period, for he had been content with bread and salt, and lived alone in a cell quite separate from the brothers. He was always weaving rush mats, and for the sake of the Lord his hands suffered such injury through winding thin strands of rope together that they were covered in drops of blood. But in spite of these bodily ills he was never absent when the brothers met together, but roamed about watchfully during the offices to make sure that none of the brothers went to sleep. Every night before going to sleep it was his custom to meditate on something from the holy Scriptures, sign himself with the cross, give praise to the Lord, and only then snatch a little rest. He would get up again in the middle of the night and keep vigil till the time of the morning prayers. A brother was one day looking at those hands covered in blood, damaged so severely by the vigorous way he worked, and spoke to him about them. "Why do you torture yourself so much by the way you work father," he asked, "and let yourself get so wounded? Is it perhaps because you are afraid that God will be angry with you and accuse you of idleness if you don't work as hard as that? God knows you are suffering, and no work is worth the great trouble you are causing for yourself, especially when it is all quite unnecessary. For if we give bountifully, first to God, then to pilgrims and poor people, how much more should we not care for you, when we all serve with the greatest devotion such a great and good father." "Impossible for me not to work!" he replied. "Please, at least put some oil into your hands, lest the streams of blood coming from them stain your work." He took that advice and did what he was urged to do, but it only made his wounded hands so much worse that he could hardly bear the pain of it. The blessed Pachomius passed by and saw what was happening and why. "Did you really think, brother," he said, "that oil would be able to cure you? Was anybody compelling you to keep at your work so vigorously that you felt it necessary to use that as an excuse to put your trust in oil rather than putting your hope in God? Do you think it is impossible for God to heal you, or that he is ignorant of each person's illnesses? Do you imagine that he needs us to advise him? He is merciful by nature; how can he possibly despise us? He takes into consideration the welfare of the souls of us all, and allows us to suffer some temporary pains in order to pour out upon us the eternal rewards due to tolerance. Let us then be sure that we cast all our care upon him, and let him in his mercy bring an end to our griefs when he wills and as he wills." "Forgive me, venerable father," said Zachaeus, "and pray for me to the Lord that in his goodness he may see fit to put my fault behind me." Many people related of this old man that for the space of a whole year his eyes were full of tears, and that he took food only once every two days. The holy Pachomius held him up as an example of good works and a stronghold of virtues. He would send anyone weighed down with worry to him, for he said there was no one like him for being able to give a word of comfort. He fought bravely to the end of a holy old age, till he passed over to the heavenly kingdom to receive eternal consolation for all his pains.

Chapter LIII Pachomius certainly never hid the talents entrusted to him (Matthew 25.18), but used them for the benefit of all, and sent Zachaeus and many others like him, who had become perfect in their lives, to the presence of Christ before him. One feast day he celebrated by giving thanks to God for all those many great blessings granted to him that this long drawn out account of ours has described. For on the most blessed feast of Easter, after many of his brothers had gone to the Lord before him, he at last fell ill himself and was nursed by Theodore, whom we have often mentioned. His whole body was weak and debilitated, but his face was shining and cheerful, proof to those who saw him of his godly mind and pure conscience. Two days before he died a holy death he called all the brothers to him. "Beloved brothers," he said, "I am about to enter into the path the fathers have trodden before me, for I hear the Lord calling me hence. But you, remember all the teachings you have heard from me again and again. Be watchful in prayer and sober in all you do. Have nothing to do with the sects of Meletius, Arius, Origen, or any others who set themselves up against the precepts of Christ. Keep to the company of those who fear the Lord and are able to assist you in pursuit of a holy life and provide your souls with spiritual comfort. I am now ready to be delivered, and the time of my departure is at hand (2 Timothy 4.6). Therefore, while I am still here, choose one among you who under God will be senior to all and will undertake the cure of your souls. As far as my own judgement is worth anything I would choose Petronius as being suitable for this task, but it is up to you to choose whom you will." In this they accepted their father's advice as obedient sons. Petronius was a man of great faith, humble in bearing, prudent in his thinking, of good habits and discernment. The holy Pachomius poured out prayer to the Lord for him, for he was known to be suffering from illness in the monastery of Chinobosci. But Pachomius commended the whole brotherhood to his care, even though he was absent, and had a message sent to him that he should come immediately. He signed himself with the cross, and gazing with a joyful countenance on the Angel of Light sent to him, he gave up his holy spirit in the tenth day of the month Pachon, according to the Egyptians, which is the seventh day before the Ides of May according to the Romans. [May 9] His disciples reverenced his dear and venerable body in a fitting manner according to the customs, and kept vigil over it the whole night through with the singing of psalms and hymns. And the next day they buried him in the mountain where he had begun. The brothers who had been sent to fetch the holy Petronius brought him back still suffering from his illness. He only ruled over the brothers for a few days before coming to a peaceful end himself, leaving behind him Orsesius, a just man acceptable to God.

Chapter LIV We have described only a few of their many merits, and set out only a small number of their great deeds, not that their honour will be any the less for that. Indeed they have no need of lavish commendation, for it is enough for them to enjoy the eternal praise and unending glory which they have been granted in the presence of Christ and all his holy Angels. They shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of God (Matthew 13.43), who has borne witness that he glorifies those who glorify him. We try to follow in their footsteps with all our strength. Aware of the brilliance of their lives we try to imitate them with the help of Christ, aided always by the prayers of the blessed fathers, Patriarchs and Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs and all the Saints, who ever give glory and praise to our almighty and merciful God, the blessed and co-eternal and consubstantial and indivisible Trinity, Father, Son and holy Spirit, to whom be given all praise and glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.



Life No 7 The Life of Saint Abraham, Hermit, [Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on March 16] by S. Ephraem the Deacon translated into Latin from the Greek by an anonymous author.



Prologue by S Ephraem My brothers, I wish to tell you about the way of life of that wonderfully perfect man Abraham, who began his life and continued to the end in such a way that he has earned perpetual glory. But when I think of his great virtue I am very hesitant about trying to put together a worthwhile and enlightening tale. For he was an outstanding man who had achieved perfection, whereas I am but weak and unpolished. But although unskilled, I will do the best I can to write as much as possible about this man, although I cannot claim to have a perfect understanding of him. Anyone, indeed, who is deservedly called a second Abraham cannot be easily described by human tongue. He was a man of our own time, living an Angelic life while still on earth. He developed as much endurance as the hardest of adamantine rock, which earned him celestial glory. From his early youth he preserved the most spotless chastity, which made him a holy vessel, fit to be a temple of the holy Spirit, and thus he opened himself up to the God who came to dwell in the guesthouse of his mind.

The Life Chapter I This blessed Abraham had wealthy parents who loved him tenderly beyond measure. They had such care for him, beyond the usual limits of human affection, that they betrothed him to a girl while he was still a child, hoping with a great longing that he would make progress in some secular walk of life. But he had long thought otherwise, for from the beginnings of his adolescence he began to frequent the regular gatherings at the church, eagerly listening with enjoyment to whatever was read from the holy Scriptures, which he would commit to memory and afterwards mull them over intently in his heart. But then his parents set a date for the approaching marriage ceremonies, which would oblige him to be bound by nuptial vows. He had objected to this at first, but they berated him and brought such pressure to bear on him that after a while he could no longer stand against them and felt so ashamed that he was persuaded to agree. So the nuptials were celebrated, but during the seven days of festivity divine grace suddenly illuminated him like a lamp shining in his heart. He welcomed it as guiding him to the fulfilment of his own desire. He leapt for joy and followed it as it led him out of the city.

Chapter II About two miles from his home he found an empty cell which he occupied and made his home, glorifying God with immense happiness. But it was a crushing blow to his parents and friends, who went out searching everywhere for this man of God. He had been seventeen days in his cell when they finally found him there praying, and the blessed man then saw how distressed they were. "Why should you be so upset at seeing me in this situation?" he asked. "Rather give glory to the most merciful God, who has rescued me from feasting at the table of my own sins, and pray for me that I may in all things shape my life as may be most pleasing to his will, and that I may be able to bear unto the end this most gentle yoke which the Lord has laid upon me, unworthy though I am." All who heard him could not but say Amen, and he asked them not to disturb him by dragging out this meeting any longer. After they had gone he blocked up the entrance to his cell and shut himself up inside, constructing a small window to the outside world through which he might receive his usual daily bread. Divine grace began to light up his mind, freed as it was from all turbulent distractions, and he advanced daily in the way he governed his life. The foundation of his life was continence, upon which he built his vigils and prayers, which he poured out with humble tears and love. Gradually his reputation for holiness spread everywhere around, and as people heard about him they hoped for inspiration from him and came from all directions to visit him. God abundantly bestowed upon him words of wisdom and knowledge and comfort, which lit up the minds of his hearers as if by the most brilliant of lamps.

Chapter III When he had been living this life for twelve years, his parents died leaving him a great deal of money and property. Lest this should distract him from his own prayers he asked a close friend to take upon himself the godly task of overseeing the distribution of it all to the poor and to orphans. His own soul and mind continued securely in quietness, for it was the greatest wish of this good man to be completely free from all earthly cares. He possessed nothing on this earth except a mantle and a coarse tunic. He also had a little bowl from which he ate and drank, and a rush mat on which he slept. Above all he had true humility, and showed the same charitable respect to all. He did not put the rich before the poor, the prince before the subject, or the aristocrats before the common people, but gave the same consideration and honour to all, without any respect of persons. He never scolded people rudely; his speech was always rooted in love and gentleness. How could anyone possibly get too much of his eloquence, offered as it was with such sweetness? Or how could anyone gazing at his face, the image of holiness, fail to be filled with a desire to see him over and over again. Once he had taken up his rules of abstinence he never relaxed them at any time. He completed with all diligence fifty years of this chosen way of life, and for the great love and longing he had for Christ, he reckoned that long stretch of time as but a few days, and he thought of all the austerity of his rule as nothing at all.

Chapter IV There was quite a large and important village not far from the city, where everyone from the greatest to the least lived in a state of the most crude paganism. Nobody had succeeded in converting them from the worship of idols. A number of presbyters and deacons had been ordained by the bishop and sent there for that very purpose, but had to withdraw without converting anyone. They laboured there in vain; the people would not be persuaded. They were fierce in temperament and quite inflexible about keeping to their own opinions. Not only that, but they also stirred up anger and the most intense resentment against the preachers. There were even a number of monks who had tried to approach them time and again, but had not had the least success in converting any of them. Then, one day, as the bishop was having a meeting with his clergy, he began to talk about this most blessed man. "In all my days I have never seen anyone like him," he said. "He is perfect in every good work, adorned with all the virtues. God is with him, which is why he is known as Abraham the most holy." "It is perfectly true," came the reply from the clergy. "This servant of God is the most perfect of monks." "I would like to ordain him presbyter," said the bishop, "and send him into that village of pagans. With his patience and love he would be able to convert them to God." And he got up straight away and went to the holy man's cell along with his clergy. After greeting him he immediately suggested that Abraham should go to that village for the sake of their salvation. "I beg you, most holy father," said Abraham, unhappy and agitated, "Let me just go on weeping for my sins without placing this sort of burden on my weak and insignificant existence." "But by the grace of God you can do it. Surely you don't want to be found lacking in obedience in this matter." "I beseech you, your holiness, let me just mourn my misdeeds." "Look, you have renounced the world and everything in it, you have embraced the life of the cross, and yet having done all that, you should know that you have no idea of what obedience is, which is the greatest of all virtues." "What am I but a dead dog (1 Samuel 24.14), and what is my life that you have passed such a sentence on me, most holy father!" "Look, you are just sitting here taking thought for your own salvation. There are multitudes more whom by the help of God's grace you could save by turning them towards the Lord God. Just ask yourself which will bring the greater reward, saving your own soul, or leading many others to salvation with you.." "Then the Lord's will be done," the blessed man of God said in floods of tears. "In truth, obedience demands that I do whatever you wish."

Chapter V So he was taken from his cell into the city, ordained presbyter by the laying of hands, and sent without delay to that pagan village, praying as he went on his journey. "O God most clement, most bounteous," he prayed, "look upon my infirmity, and send your heavenly grace down on my new status (praesidium) that your holy name may be glorified." When he got to the village and saw how deeply they were all immersed in the madness of idolatry, he groaned from the bottom of his heart and wept in grief. "You alone are without sin, O God," he cried, lifting up his eyes to heaven. "Despise not the works of your own hands." And he hastily arranged for a messenger to be sent to his dear friend in the city, asking him to bring him what money was left of his inheritance. Once he had got it, before long he had built a church and decorated it with many wonderful ornaments as if it were a most beloved bride. While it was being built, however, the man of God walked daily past the pagan statues, saying nothing, but praying secretly in his heart, and sending up his tears and sighs to the Lord. When the church was finished he offered it up with many tears as a gift to God and on his knees poured forth prayer to God. "Almighty Son of the living God, you have trodden the whole world of error underfoot, and led it by your presence into the knowledge of your light. Gather this scattered people also into the bosom of your church, and enlighten the eyes of their minds, that they may cast off the worship of idols and know you the only kind God and lover of humankind." The prayer over, he went straight out of the church to the pagan temple, overturned the altar and images and destroyed them with his own hands. When the pagans realised what he had done an angry crowd of them gathered around like a herd of wild beasts and beat him with many rods, making him run for his life. At night time he came quietly back to his church, taking no thought for his lacerations and wounds, but praying to the Lord with tears and groans that they should be saved. In the morning the pagans came to the church and found him praying, and they stood stock still in amazement. And they came to the church for several days, not in order to pray, but to feast their eyes on the beauty and ornaments of the church. A few days later the blessed man Abraham began to urge them to know God. But this made them very angry, and they fell upon him with clubs as if he were some lifeless stone, bound his feet with ropes, dragged him out of the village, and stoned him till they thought he was dead, although in fact he was still only half dead. In the middle of the night he regained consciousness and began to weep bitterly. "O Lord," he prayed, "why have you despised my lowliness and turned your face away from me? And why do you cast down my soul, and despise, O Lord, the work of your own hands? Now, O Lord, look upon your servant and hear my prayer and give me strength. Loosen your children from the chains of the devil, and enlighten them that they may know you, for you alone are God, and beside you there is no other." Rising from his prayer, he returned to the village and went in to the church, singing psalms to the Lord. When it began to get light the villagers came and were astonished to see him. Infuriated and maddened, they again tormented him cruelly without mercy, bound him and carried him out of the village.

Chapter VI He went on suffering like this for three years, but he endured as if he were an adamantine rock, and he suffered a great many abusive torments without ceasing. But when he was knocked over, when he was dragged about, persecuted and stoned, suffering from hunger and thirst, no matter what happened he was never provoked to anger, never moved by indignation, never fainthearted, never worn out and weary. The more he suffered from them the more his love and charity increased towards them. He warned, he cajoled, he showered them with entreaties of gentlest eloquence. He addressed the older men as fathers, the younger as brothers, the youths as sons, but when he was ridiculed by them in return he just laughed as he suffered a thousand insults.





Life of St Abraham (contiinued), Book 1a (Also St Basil, further down this page)

Chapter VII There came a day when the inhabitants of that village got together and began to talk to each other in some fear and amazement. "Just look at the enormous patience that man has!" they said. "The extraordinary charity that he shows towards us! We have given him so much trouble, but he has not gone away, he has not said an unkind word to anyone of us, he has not spurned any of us, but has put with everything completely cheerfully! Surely he would not have been able to do that unless this God that he talks about really is the true God, as he says, and the kingdom, and paradise, and the punishment of the wicked are all true. We have to realise that all by himself he has overcome our gods and has not come to any harm. This man truly is a servant of God and everything we have heard about him is true. Come on then, let us also believe in this God whom he preaches about." And as result of these conversations they all came together to the church shouting and crying; "Glory be to the God of heaven who has sent his servant to us to save us from error!"

Chapter VIII What an enormous joy filled the heart of the man of God at this sight! His face glistened like the dew of the morning and he opened his mouth to greet them. "Come fathers, brothers, sons, let us give glory to God who has stooped down to enlighten the eyes of your minds, that you may come to know him and receive the life giving sign which will purge you from the uncleanness of idolatry. Believe with all your heart and mind that there is one God of heaven and earth and all that is in it, beyond understanding, giver of light, lover and redeemer of humankind, terrible and gentle. And believe in the only begotten Son who is the wisdom of God, and in the holy Spirit who gives life to all, so that you may be lifted up from earth to heaven and enjoy the life of heaven." "You are our father," they said. "You are our guide through life. Whatever you tell us and teach us that we will believe and do." Without delay the holy Abraham performed the rite of Baptism, and baptised them all from the greatest to the least, about a thousand souls in all. Day by day he read the holy Scriptures to them, and taught them about the kingdom of God, the delights of paradise, the hell of punishment, about justice, faith and charity. They were like good earth receiving good seed, and brought forth fruit, some a hundredfold, some sixtyfold, and some thirty, and as they progressed in the fear of God so did their fruits increase. In their sight he seemed like an Angel of God, holding the household together. His gentle teachings aroused such love towards him that that alone was enough to make them believe in God.

Chapter IX For the space of a year the blessed man Abraham did not cease to teach them day by day about the word of God, until he could see that their faith and their zeal for God had become strong. But he also saw that their love for him was excessive, and that they were paying him too much honour. He feared that their attachment to him was undermining his rule of abstinence and that his mind to a certain degree was being drawn away into earthly cares. He rose in the middle of the night and poured out a prayer to God. "You alone, O God, are without sin for you alone are holy, and abide in the holy places. You alone are the merciful Lord and lover of humankind, who have opened the eyes of this multitude and freed them from the chains of the adversary, and rescued them from the toils of idolatrous error, and taught them how to know you. I beseech you, O Lord, to guide them and keep them to the end. In your mercy ever provide a generous measure of your help to this most wonderful flock, which you have possessed as your own. Surround them by the grace of your goodness as if with a strong wall, and ever illuminate their hearts that they may always do what is pleasing to you and earn the life everlasting. You have allowed me, weak as I am, to have been their prop and stay, but now hold it not against me as a sin if I do now speedily depart. You know the thoughts of all. You know that I desire only you, and I know that you are my Lord." He began his journey as he spoke, signing the village of Christ three times with the Cross, and went away to another place where nobody was able to find him.

Chapter X A crowd of people arrived next morning at the church as usual. When he was not be found they were totally bewildered and ran about like lost sheep seeking everywhere for their shepherd, tearfully weeping and wailing. They searched about for a long time without being able to find him, and at last, overcome with grief they went to tell the bishop what had happened. He also was very worried at the news, and immediately sent off several people to search for him. He was anxious to do everything he could for the people, for he could see how deeply concerned they were. When they had searched everywhere as if they were looking for some precious stone but still could not find him, the bishop took counsel with his clergy and they all went to the village. He offered the villagers words of comfort and tried with his gentle coaxing to soften the blow which Abraham's departure had given them. He discerned that they were very strong in the faith, so he chose likely men from among them to be ordained as presbyters, deacons and readers. The most holy Abraham eventually got to hear about this, and he was overjoyed. "What return can I make unto you, O Lord my God, most compassionate Father, most gentle lover of mankind, for all the benefits you have given unto me? I give honour and glory to you for everything you have done." And he went back immediately to his former cell, where he built an extension in front of it and enclosed himself joyfully in the inner part. O what a miracle was this, my beloved brothers! Worthy of praise and eternal glory! Throughout all those terrible troubles that he suffered in that village he never broke his rule of abstinence, and turned not either to the right hand or the left. Glory and splendour to God who granted him the forbearance which led to the conversion of others, and who gave him the grace to hold to his original purpose!

Chapter XI The devil, ever malicious towards good people, had not succeeded in turning the mind of the man of God, or separating him from the Lord, in spite of all the troubles he had stirred up against him. Worse, like gold tried in the furnace, he had emerged purified from the fire, and had grown into a greater patience and a keener love. The devil was so exceedingly annoyed and bitterly infuriated that he sent enormous phantasms against him, in the hope that by filling him with fear he might succeed in deceiving him and getting him to fall.

Chapter XII So while he was standing to sing psalms in the middle of the night a light as brilliant as the sun suddenly shone in the midst of his cell and he heard the voices of a great multitude. "Blessed are you, Abraham, truly blessed and faithful, there is no one to be found like you in all the world, for you have done everything according to my will." The holy man immediately experienced an exceeding great grief, and he lifted up his voice and cried: "May you be lost in eternal obscurity, you receptacle of grief and deception, for I am a sinful human being, albeit fortified by hope, and by the grace of God I am in no way intimidated by your tricks. No matter how many phantasms you send against me I shall not be afraid. For the name of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, whom I love and serve, is to me as a strong wall of defence. In his name I curse you, you unclean, thrice accursed dog." At these words the vision vanished as a smoke before his eyes, and the holy servant of God blessed the Lord with such eagerness and peace of mind as if he had never seen any phantasms at all.

Chapter XIII A few days later while he was praying at night, the devil wielded a hatchet and tried to destroy his cell. When he had almost succeeded, he cried out with a loud voice: "Hurry, my friends, come quickly! Let us go in and bring him to a violent death!" But blessed Abraham stood up against him. "All the nations surrounded me," he said, "but in the name of the Lord I will be avenged on them" (Psalms 118.10). And the devil vanished immediately when he heard that voice, and the blessed man's cell remained whole and unharmed.

Chapter XIV Again, a few days later when he was singing psalms in the middle of the night, his mat burst suddenly into flames. Completely unafraid, he stamped on the flames. "I shall walk upon the asp and basilisk, the lion and the dragon I shall trample under my feet Psalms 91.13), and I shall overcome all the power of the enemy in the name of my Lord Jesus Christ who comes to my aid." Satan was put to flight, crying out with a loud voice: "I will bring you to an unpleasant death! You may now hold me in despite, but I shall find a way to conquer you."

Chapter XV On another day while he was taking food, the devil transformed himself into a young man who came into his cell and tried to overturn his bowl. But the man of God held on to it firmly and continued boldly with his meal. The devil jumped up and suddenly created another phantasm. It was as if there was a candelabra standing in front of him, and light shining above it, and psalms being sung from a polluted and ugly mouth. "Blessed are they who are undefiled in the way," it sang, "and who walk in the law of the Lord" (Psalms 119.1). More verses from this psalm followed, but the holy man said nothing until he had finished his meal. "Unclean and thrice accursed dog," he said firmly as he rose from the table, "most pathetic liar of liars, if you are so sure that we are blessed, why are you molesting us? In any case, blessed are all they who love God with their whole heart." "It is they who irritate me above all," the devil replied. "It is they whom I would conquer, bring all their good works to naught, and make them acquiesce in all kinds of evil." "No good will come to you from that, accursed one. You will never succeed in overcoming or even hindering anyone who fears God, only those who like you have departed from God of their own free will. You conquer and deceive them because God is not in them. But those who love God can make you evaporate and dissipate like smoke in the wind. One prayer from such as they can so prick and disturb you that you become like bits of dust in the breeze. For God is a living God, blessed for ever, who will glorify me, so that I shall not be afraid though you never left my side. I despise you as a nothing, the runt of the litter reviled by all." At these words the devil abruptly vanished, as usual.

Chapter XVI Five days later, after his night psalms were finished, another powerful phantasm was constructed by the enemy. It was as if the holy man could see a great horde approaching him, all linked together, urging each other on with great shouts that they might cast the man of God into the pit. But the blessed man just looked at them surrounding him. "They surrounded me like a swarm of bees," he said, "and burned like fire among the thorns, but in the name of the Lord I am avenged on them" (Psalms 118.12). "Alas, alas!" cried Satan. "I don't know what else I can do! Look! He has beaten me and overcome me in everything I do. He has been defeated by none of my powers, and trampled me everywhere underfoot. Nevertheless I shall not leave you alone until I have overcome you, and humbled you and brought you into subjection." "May you and all your powers be anathema, you most foul of demons!" said the man of God. "And glory and honour be unto the Lord, the only wise and holy God who gives you to be trampled underfoot by us who love him. Therefore we have no respect for your craftiness but only contempt. Know then, you frail and unhappy demon, that we have no fear either for you or your phantasms."

Chapter XVII Time after time the devil assaulted this strongest of men with all sorts of arguments and tricks, but never was he able to make any impression on the fortress of his mind or even to make him feel afraid. The more he was attacked, the greater grew his zeal and love towards God. For because he loved God with all his heart, and arranged his life according to God's will, so he earned an overflowing measure of God's grace, and the devil was not able to harm him. He was forever knocking on the door, seeking for the treasures of God's grace to be opened up to him. And when the door was opened up to him he found there the three precious stones of faith, hope and charity, powerful adornments bringing all the other virtues to perfection. And with these he wove a crown of good works which he offered back to his Lord, the King of kings, from whom all his gifts did proceed. Who has ever with his whole heart loved God and his neighbour as himself like this man (Luke 10.27)? Or who has ever endured such labours, or shown such compassion? Whenever he heard of any monk who had the reputation of a holy life, did he ever fail to pray for him to the Lord that he might be kept safe from all the snares of the devil, and maintain the blameless course of his life? Whenever he heard of any sinner or godless person, did he ever fail to pray to the Lord with tears day and night that he might be saved? In all the days of his religious life he did not pass one day without tears. Nor did laughter easily escape his lips. He never anointed his body with oil, and from the day of his conversion he never washed either his feet or his face. He always lived as one with the thought of his death always before him.

Chapter XVIII Truly, my brothers, what a glorious miracle he was! Constant vigils washed with tears, disciplined in body by sleeping on the ground, never weary, never weakened or dulled by lethargy, never prone to apathy, but always like someone hungering and thirsting, he gladly endured all things, never allowing his mind to be deflected from its purpose by any relaxation. He appeared as a flower forever in bloom, his face mirrored the purity of his soul. There was nothing lacking in his whole body, which always seemed healthy and strong, enjoying divine grace in all its parts and enlivened with spiritual joy. In the hour of his death his face shone with such splendour that it seemed impossible that his whole life had been spent in abstinence. And there was another miracle in the way he managed things; he never once changed the tunic in which he was originally clothed. For other things in the Life of Abraham and his niece, see the Lives of the Women (Book 1d, Life No 20). Life No 8 The Life of Saint Basil, [c.330 - 379 Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on Jan 2. Regarded as one of the great Doctors of the Church] Archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia by Bishop Amphilochius Iconius, [c.340 - 395. Celebrated in the Roman Martyrology on November 23] translated into Latin from the Greek by Ursus, subdeacon. [Sometime around the year 860, according to Rosweyde]

Preface by Ursus It is to comply with your request that I have translated into the Latin tongue the Life of the blessed Basil, Archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia. It is right that I should accede to your request. I am indebted to all my brothers and neighbours, and I certainly ought not to be disobedient to you. I could wish that this work had been done as well and promptly, and as usefully and felicitously as you have asked it to be, especially as you have emphasised how necessary it is for this great man to be celebrated as much among the Latins as he is among the Greeks. So let the Latin language have these salutary writings, for it is not yet known there how admirable the life of this man was. It is certainly not right that what he taught and did should not be more widely known, for this holy man not only taught human beings the words of God, but first of all performed them, as a great man called into the kingdom of heaven. He was an imitator of him whom Luke wrote about, who described what Jesus began both to do and to preach (Acts 1.1). So then, enjoy these teachings to your soul's health, and lest you should think that this man taught but did not do, you shall know now that what he taught that did he also do, and what is more, you will have a model to imitate. I have not up to now presumed to approach this work, as you know, because I thought it had been translated by someone else whose merits might have put me to shame. Nevertheless, although some people had already translated the holy Scriptures, was that any reason why there should not be other translators later on? If that were the case, the Latin race would never have been able to drink deep from the holy Scriptures translated into Latin from the original Hebrew by the blessed Jerome, Presbyter of the Roman Church and champion of the holy Bible. But when I had made enquiries, I found nothing in Latin about the life of this Saint except two of his miracles: the liberating of the boy who denied Christ, and the woman rescued from a life of sin, which however I found to have been so badly done that I could see that it was preferable to translate them afresh rather than try to amend them. It should also be noted that if any reader asserts that what the holy Amphilochius writes is different from what S Gregory Nazienzus [An associate of St Basil in monastic life. A great Doctor of the Church] wrote in his elegy on this great man, let him remember that what one person might mention another might well omit, which is what we find in reading the Gospels. Amphilochius has written the lives of many great men. Let it be known that he is a most suitable person for this task.

Author's Prologue Beloved, it is right and proper that devout sons should grieve over the death of a father, and offer the gift of tears. That we have compassionately done. Now, having set aside the turmoil of grief, we have been moved to respond to the grace-giving prayers that all have offered to our Lord Jesus Christ, by producing a Life, and indeed an account of the true miracles, of Basil, our pastor and master, which have been crying out to be preserved in writing lest in the passage of time they be lost in the deepest oblivion. It might seem that I am wasting my time when there are three most sacred and outstanding men, and others elsewhere as well, who have already produced memoirs of this great and dazzling man. I refer to Gregory of Nazianzus, the memorable Gregory, [died.c. 395. A younger brother of St Basil]. bishop of the city of Nyssa, and the blessed Ephraem, [See chapter XI, below] from whose hands I have received the stories which each of them has gathered together. But I have added things which they have omitted, in the manner of a devoted son repaying a debt to his father. It may be thought that I am deliberately aware that I am conniving at theft, but just as clouds hide the sun, so do fractious criticisms of good stories make one forget how good the stories are. Basil, our father, was among the greatest, famous throughout the world, expounder of heavenly virtues, a fellow-servant among the order of Angels, a preacher and Doctor of the Church, a monument of incorrupt orthodox dogma, who used simple language to explain the nature of things, discredited Julian [332 - 363. Roman Emperor who promoted paganism].who denied the Trinity, closed the blaspheming mouth of Valens, [Emperor after Julian exposed the wicked error of the Arians, and strengthened unceasingly the beliefs of true Christians. He was a Pastor cherished by the people of the Church, a co-inheritor of a royal priesthood, clothed about in the truth of Christ, the ram of the flock, an outstanding teacher of divine faith, who after his death as in his life shines with great miracles, who by his oratory brought about, as we have said, the downfall of the hateful Julian who lifted up his horn on high and spoke evilly against God. After Julian, Valens accepted the Imperial purple in this illustrious city of ours, Caesarea. He favoured the teaching of the Arians who, as it were, killed off the Father, but it is not our intention in this present narrative to go into the reasons for that. We simply hold to our purpose of celebrating his virtues, from the womb to the end of his life.





Life of S Basil (continued), Book 1a

The Life Chapter I Basil, more than anyone else on earth, led a life of perfect balance. For not only was he adorned with good works, but he was furnished with divine wisdom and he offered it all up to Christ, with all his body and soul. His writings, especially, destroyed the erroneous spider webs of the pagans. His parents began his education at the age of seven. He studied Mathematics for five years, and being of a teachable nature he derived great profit from this philosophical discipline. After that he left his native land of Cappadocia and went to Athens, the mother of literature, where he lived chastely and developed many other habits of temperance and continence. He sat at the feet of a teacher of Greek wisdom called Eubulus, and applied his disciplines to himself so well that he became a model not only for his fellow students but also for his teachers. Gregory the future great bishop of Nazianzus, who ruled an Apostolic throne for twelve years, was one of his contemporaries, as were Libanius and Julian, at that time a Christian. Basil had decided not to take part in holy Communion, but there came a time when divine providence ensured that he would penetrate into those secrets of wisdom. For having studied the whole range of pagan philosophy for fifteen years, Astronomy and Geometry and everything that was best, he found that he had not succeeded in discovering in any of them the foundation underlying everything else. But one night as he was keeping vigil, a divine splendour enfolded him, urging him to study the scriptures of our religion. So he hurried off to Egypt, where he visited a certain Archimandrite named Porphyrius and asked to be given access to the holy books in order to gain a grounding in religious doctrines. As he read he continuously meditated on divine wisdom, while learning to survive on water and a vegetarian diet. He stayed there for a whole year, seeking the truth in faith by examining the word of truth. He then asked to be allowed to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in order to see the holy places. Permission was granted and he went.

Chapter II He came back from there to the place where he had been instructed in Greek philosophy, [i.e. Athens] and began to preach Christ to many of the philosophers and other pagans, urging that therein lay the way of salvation. In particular he began to seek out Eubulus among the various schools of study that he had set up, in the hope that by his own pure faith he might lead Eubulus towards the faith. For Eubulus was a great teacher of all who were learning philosophy. Searching for him throughout all the schools he found him at last in the outskirts of the city among a group of philosophers, none of whom were either hearing or speaking anything new. As the dispute went on, Basil stood up and argued against Eubulus. "Who is this that is arguing with you, O philosopher?" asked one of those present. "Well, if it isn't God it's Basil," he replied. And he took his leave of the company, and for three days he and Basil fasted and put questions to each other. "How do you define philosophy, Basil?" "The first requirement of philosophy is to meditate on death." "Who then is pure" (mundus)? "He who is above the world" (mumdum). For the wisdom of the world is very seductive, but this same world becomes very bitter to anyone who shamefully follows it. Bodily pleasure is one thing and pleasure of the spirit is quite another, and there cannot be any equality of commerce between them. For no man can serve two masters (Matthew 6.24). Virtue enables us to break the bread of wisdom with those who thirst for it, and through virtue we restore those who have been cast out by the wickedness of others. If we see the naked we cover him with a cloak and we do not despise those of our own family." From there he went on by way of a parable to paint a picture of the mercifulness of our Saviour, which he brings us through our penitence. "Little by little he sets up three warning signs on the outskirts of our minds. The first one is over the gate and carries the virtues, Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance and Justice. On the left hand side sits Seduction, from whence arise Intemperance, Profanity, Argumentativeness and Deceit and a swarm of other like evils. Penitence however stands graciously nearby, fearless, joyful, gentle, brooking no denial, source of every blessing for people, and next to her Abstinence, Sagacity, Clemency, Shamefastness, Modesty, Humanity, and a host of other good things. The meaning of this catalogue to those who see it is that it serves as a warning, and to those who have ears to hear an invitation to a stronger zeal. Eubulus, I was filled with delight when I saw it, and was captivated by it, for they are not imaginary things of uncertain meaning for us, but plain truths guiding us to salvation. "For we shall all rise again, some to eternal life, some to condemnation and perpetual distress. We must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ (2 Corinthians 5.10) as the prophets in their magnificent eloquence have taught, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, David the king, and that surpassingly excellent Paul, not to mention the Lord himself, who calls for penitence and bestows its reward, who seeks out the lost sheep (Matthew 18.12), who welcomes back the son who left his father's house with a rich portion which he wantonly squandered, leaving him perishing with hunger. His father embraces him, clothes him in a brilliant robe and other precious garments, gives him a ring, and urges the good brother not to be angry but to forgive (Luke 14.11-32). This is the Lord who without distinction of persons gives an equal reward to those who come at the eleventh hour (Matthew 20.1-16). To those of us who come to our senses and repent he gives new birth by water and the holy Spirit. Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what the Lord has prepared for them that love him" (1 Corinthians 2.9). "O Basil," cried Eubulus, who had thoroughly understood what Basil was saying, "you bear witness to the Trinity in heaven. Because of you I believe in one God the Father almighty and all the rest of it, and I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come, amen. And I will demonstrate my faith by what I shall do. Everything I have I place in your hands, and when I have received new birth by the holy water of the Spirit, I shall stay with you for the rest of my life, if that prove pleasing to God." "Eubulus, blessed be the Lord our God, now and for ever," said Basil, "for he has illuminated your mind with the true light, and brought you from the error of many gods into acknowledging his mercy. Now, if you wish to stay with me, as you say you do, I will show you how to work for our salvation and our liberation from this world. Let us sell everything we have and give to the poor, then go to the holy city to see for ourselves the places where the life-giving miracles were performed, and so increase our faithfulness towards God." Both of them gave away all their goods, keeping back only enough to buy those things necessary in preparation for holy Baptism, and set out for Jerusalem. And they converted not a few pagans to the Lord on the way.

Chapter III When they arrived at the city of Antioch, they stopped at a certain guesthouse, where the landlord's son, Philoxenus, was sitting outside, lost in deep thought. He was a disciple of Libanius the sophist, who had given him some verses of Homer to explain in accordance with Rhetoric philosophy. He was sitting there in a state of great mental upheaval, and Basil could see that the strain of it was making him feel quite weak. "Why are you looking so worried, young man?" Basil asked. "Would it do me any good if I were to tell you?" he replied. "I may be able to help you." "Well, I am struggling with these verses in terms of sophistry." Basil picked up the verses and began to explain them. The youth was amazed and delighted, and begged Basil to put it all down in writing. Basil wrote out three separate ways of interpreting the verses, which the youth was delighted to receive, and at dawn next day took these explanations of the verses to Libanius. After reading them, Libanius was very surprised. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "There is no wise man of my acquaintance who could have explained them like this. Who is this new person?" "It is a traveller staying at our guesthouse who has the skill to have provided these explanations." Libanius lost no time in going to the guesthouse where he was astonished to recognise the unhoped for presence of Basil and Eubulus. He immediately took them back to his own house where he asked them if they would partake of a generous and well prepared meal. But according to their beliefs they would accept only a due measure of bread and water, for which they gave thanks to God the giver of all good things. Libanius began to expound most skilfully the wordy teachings of the Rhetoricians. Basil and Eubulus in return spoke about the faith, and Libanius understood what they were talking about. "It is not yet the right time for me to act on what you have said," he mused, "but when divine providence speaks to me, who should then be able to resist? However, you have been such a great help to me, Basil, that I would like you to put your arguments to my students as well." It did not take long for the students to assemble, and Basil spoke to them on cleanliness of soul, bodily endurance, a gentle manner, mild voice, measured speech, disciplined diet, silence in the presence of elders, obedience to superiors, charity unfeigned towards both equals and juniors, saying little but understanding much, not to be offended when rebuked, to be sparing in small talk, not prompt to laughter, practised in modesty, having no converse with shameless women, eyes cast down but soul lifted up, keeping out of quarrels, not seeking after a reputation for learning, nor forever wondering about who would be likely to be of benefit to you, and if you are able to be of benefit to others to look for your reward from God and the enjoyment of the good things of eternity from Jesus Christ our Lord. Thus spoke Basil to the disciples of Libanius, who all heaped admiring praises upon him. And so with Eubulus he continued his journey.

Chapter IV When they arrived at Jerusalem they made a pilgrimage to all the holy places with faith and love, in each of which they worshipped God who is over all. They then made themselves known to Maximinus, the bishop of the city, and asked to be given new birth in the waters of the river Jordan. The holy man of God looked upon them and gave thanks, and hastened to fulfil their request. Along with some of the faithful they all approached the river Jordan, where Basil threw himself on the ground and with tears and a loud cry begged to be given the sign of faith. In fear and trembling he rose and put off his garments, and without doubt the old man along with them, before going down into the river. He prayed, and the priest [[sacerdos i.e the bishop] baptised him. And behold, a shining light surrounded him, and a dove flew out of it into the water. It stirred up the water and flew back to heaven. And those who were present trembled with fear and glorified God as the newly baptised Basil came up out of the water. Maximinus was overawed by the love which Basil was showing towards God, and poured out prayer over him as he clothed him in the robes symbolising the resurrection of Christ. He also baptised Eubulus and anointed them both with the holy chrism. He administered the lifegiving Communion to them. And as the priest of God prayed and offered this food to Basil he took it and said; "Lord Jesus Christ, our God, I believe in what you say in the Gospel, and put my hope in your goodwill towards us, that through this food and this drink I shall overcome our adversary the devil by the help of your holy Spirit." Overawed by the faith of this man, the priest of God went back with them into the holy city. They stayed there for a year and then agreed to go to Antioch, where Basil was ordained deacon by Meletius, the bishop of that city. It was here that he wrote his treatise on Proverbs, which was received with much acclaim.

Chapter V Not very long after this, he went with Eubulus to Cappadocia, and when he was about to enter Caesarea, bishop Eusebius of that city was told of his imminent arrival in a vision of the night, and that Basil was to be his future successor. Without delay he summoned his chief ecclesiastical administrator, and several others of the venerable clergy, told them of his vision and sent them to the East gate of the city to meet the visitors as they entered, and invite them to visit the bishop immediately. As soon as they came in that most holy bishop was amazed to recognise them as being the very people he had seen in his vision, and gave thanks to God. He asked them what they were and where they were from, and where had they just come from, and having satisfied his curiosity he bade his deacons see to their needs. They took them to a very pleasant little cottage and did everything they could to see to their comfort. In the meantime that most holy bishop called a meeting of the leaders both of clergy and of state, and told them all that had been revealed to him by God. "In truth it is a tribute to the purity of your life", they unanimously agreed, "that you have been found worthy of a divine revelation as to who shall occupy the pontifical throne after you. So, therefore, don't hesitate. Do what you think best." The bishop called Basil and Eubulus and questioned them on their knowledge of the sacred Scriptures. He soon realised in wonder that fountains of wisdom flowed from them. He set them up in a suitable establishment, and not long after, he died. The bishops gathered together in Synod, and by the guidance of the holy Spirit they chose Basil for the episcopal throne. He was duly consecrated, and became governor of the Church by the providence of God.

Chapter VI Shortly afterwards he asked God to give him such a gift of wisdom and knowledge that he might be able to offer the bloodless sacrifice to God in his own words and to come into the presence of the holy Spirit. For six days the holy Spirit kept his mind in a state of trance, until on the seventh day he began making the offering to God daily, and after some time spent in much faithful prayer he began to write down the mysteries of the Mass. At nighttime the Lord appeared to him along with the Apostles. Placing the bread upon the holy altar, he raised Basil up and said, "Let your mouth be filled with praise, even as you have asked, and let your offering of the bloodless sacrifice be made in your own words." Almost blinded by this vision, in fear and trembling he went up to the holy altar and began to speak aloud the following words, writing them down as he did so. "Fill my mouth with your praise that I may praise your glory, O Lord God, who have created us and given us life…" and the rest of the prayers of the holy Mass. At the end of the prayers he lifted up the bread, praying freely and saying, "Look down upon us, O Lord Jesus Christ our God from your holy habitation where you sit on high with the Father, and come and make us holy. Be present with us, though hid from our eyes, and by the power of your hand grant to us, and through us to all the people, holy things for the holy." "One alone is holy," responded the people, "the one Lord Jesus Christ with the holy Spirit in the glory of God the Father. Amen." He divided the bread into three portions; one portion he consumed, one portion he set aside to be buried with him [An early practice which was discontinued by the Third General Council of Constantinople, 680.] and the third portion he placed on the golden dove suspended above the altar. Eubulus and the chief cleric were standing outside the church and they saw a light shining out of it, and people clothed in shining white garments, and heard the voice of the people glorifying God as Basil stood at the altar. They fell in fear on their faces, glorifying God in tears. And when Basil came out of the church, they fell at his feet. "What are you doing here?" asked Basil, "and why are you worshipping me?" "We have seen the miracle of glory enfolding the church." Basil gave profuse thanks to God and told them the details of the glorious miracle. He called for a goldsmith and instructed him to make a dove of the purest gold, in which he placed the third portion, and hung it over the holy table. It commemorated the holy dove which appeared when the Lord was baptised in Jordan. When this had been done he decided to preach a celebratory sermon to the people, and gathered a great crowd of them into the church. Among them was Ephraem, a worshipper of God who also had seen the divine vision, which we shall say more about later on [see Chapter XI, below].

Chapter VII Once while he was celebrating divine service a certain Jew, wanting to find out what the service and gift of Communion was all about, joined in the congregation as if he were a Christian, and saw a little infant being torn limb from limb in Basil's hands. He went up with everyone else to communicate and was given real flesh, and when he came to the chalice it was full of blood and he partook of it. He managed to conceal a part of it and took it home to show it to his wife, telling her that he had seen with his own eyes what he had been told by others, and so believed that the Christian mysteries were truly tremendous and glorious. Next morning he went to Basil and asked that he be signed without delay with the cross of Christ. Basil was nothing loth, and giving thanks to him who wills all people to be saved, baptised him and all his household into the household of the Lord.

Chapter VIII Helladius of holy memory was another who witnessed and shared in the miracles brought about by Basil. It was he who was found worthy after Basil's death to occupy the see of that memorable Apostle. He was a marvellous, brilliant man, adorned with all the virtues, and he told me about a certain faithful senator called Proterius, who took his daughter to a holy and much cherished place, intending she should be tonsured and given over to one of the venerable monasteries, as a sacrifice offered to God. The devil, who has been a murderer from the beginning, was annoyed by her religious purpose, and inspired a slave of Proterius to fall in love with the girl. He had scant respect for her intentions, but since he did not dare himself to put her off from her intentions, he approached one of those repulsive magicians, and promised him a great quantity of gold if he were able to subvert her. "I don't have that power, my friend," he replied, "but if you like I will put you in touch with my power supply, the devil, and he will do what you want, as long as you promise to obey him." "I will do whatever he says." "Would you renounce Christ, and put it into writing?" "Yes, I would." "If you are ready then, I will help you." "I am quite ready, if only I can get what I want." And that evil-doing servant of the devil wrote out something to send to his master, as follows: "Whereas it behoves me to further the purposes of my lord and master in taking care that those who forsake the Christian religion are effectively joined to your company, that your portion may be filled, I send to you the bearer of this letter who is wounded by love for a girl. And I pray that you will fulfil his desires, and give me due credit for my overflowing desire to gather all your lovers together." "Take this letter," he said, "and go at midnight to stand upon some pagan statue. Throw this writing into the air, and someone will appear who will lead you to the devil." He did this with all eagerness, lifting up his miserable voice and calling on the devil to help him. Immediately he was surrounded by the princes of the power of darkness, spirits of wickedness, who with great rejoicing led this deceived wretch away and showed him the devil sitting on a high throne. The devil took those poisonous writings into his hands and spoke thus to that unfortunate person; "Do you believe in me?" "I do believe." "You Christians are liars. You only come to me when you want something, and when you have got it you deny me and go back to your Christ, who forgives you because he is good and merciful. So let me see you put into writing that you renounce of your own free will both your Christ and your Baptism, and give yourself into my power for ever, and that you will stay with me till the day of judgement, when together we will enjoy the eternal punishments which are being prepared for me." And he wrote this all out in his own hand as asked. At once he sent out the demons of fornication, who made the girl burn with desire for the slave. With a great cry she threw herself on the floor in front of her father. "Have mercy on me!" she cried. "I am suffering desperate torture for the love of our slave. Find some compassion in your heart. Show some pity for your only daughter, and marry me to this slave. He it is that I choose. If you don't, you will see me die a painful death in a few days, and it will be you who have to account for it before God in the day of judgement."



Chnapter VIII (continued). Life of S Basil, Book 1a

"God have mercy on me, a sinner! " he cried. "What has got into my miserable wretch of a daughter! Who has stolen my treasure? Who has led my daughter astray? Who has extinguished the sweet light of my eyes? It has always been my intention to marry you to the heavenly bridegroom, to see you safely into the company of Angels, and I was ready to praise God in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs. But you have lost your senses in some sort of insane frenzy. Let me betroth you to God, which is what I wish, or else you will bring down my grey hairs in misery to the grave, and bring disrepute on to the good reputation of your parents." She reckoned nothing to all that her father had said to her. "Father, if you don't give me what I want," she said, "it won't be long before you see me dead." Her father's mind was in a whirl, not only because of the depth of his grief, but also because his friends advised that it were better that he should give way to his daughter rather than have her commit suicide. He agreed at last, and gave orders that her desires should be fulfilled, rather than hand her over to dreadful death. He gave her the husband she wanted, and handed over to him his own daughter and all his goods. "Here you are, my ungrateful daughter," he said. "But you will greatly regret it, for it will not profit you in the day of judgement." Sometime after this infamous marriage ceremony, when the work of the devil was complete, some people noticed that the husband was no longer going to church to receive the immortal and life-giving Sacrament and went to this pitiable newly-wed and said to her, "You must have known that this husband you have chosen is not a Christian. He has left the faith, he is as good as cast into outer darkness." She was at once plunged into deepest darkness and agony, threw herself on the floor, raked her face with her nails and beat her breast. "No one can be saved who disobeys their parents," she cried. "Who will tell my father of my downfall? Alas, I am destroyed! I have gone down to the depths of hell. Why was I ever born? And since I was born, why was I so easily corrupted?" The rejected husband heard her complaining, came in to her and protested that what she was complaining about was not true. "That gives me some comfort," she said, "but to satisfy me completely, and make me sure in my own confused mind, let's you and I go together to the church tomorrow and let me see you receive the inviolate mysteries. That will really put my fears to rest. " Thus cornered, he was compelled to admit the covenant he had signed. In revulsion against such ungodliness, she immediately cast off her feminine misgivings, came to a good decision, and ran to Basil, the pastor and disciple of Christ. "O saint of God," she cried, "take pity on my misery. Have mercy on me, O disciple of Christ, for I have been party to an agreement with the devil. Have mercy on me for being disobedient to my father." And she told him everything she knew about what had happened. The saint of God asked the slave to come and see him and asked him if it really was as his wife had said. "Yes," he said. "I cannot deny it, for what I have done has been shouted to the skies." He told Basil the evil work the devil had done and all the details of it from start to finish. "Do you wish to turn back to the Lord?" Basil asked "I do, but I can't." "Why?" "Because I renounced Christ in writing and made a treacherous pact with the devil." "Don't worry too much about that. Our God is kind and will accept you if you repent. He is kind even when we have done evil things." The girl threw herself at his feet. "O disciple of Christ our God," she said, "help us if you can." The saint turned to the slave. "Do you believe you can be saved?" he asked. "Lord, I believe," he said. "help my unbelief" (Mark 9.24). Basil prayed and made the sign of the cross over him, took him by the hand and hid him away in the place where the sacred vestments were kept, where he left him with a rule to follow. For three days he prayed for him before visiting him again. "How are things going, my son?" "In very great weariness, sir. O saint of God, I am suffering from their shouts and alarms and their darts and their stonings. And they keep holding up in front of me that contract that I wrote out with my own hands, cursing me and saying, 'It was you who gave yourself to us, not the other way round'". "Fear not, my son. Only believe." He gave him something to eat, prayed again and signed him with the cross. He shut him up again, and visited him after another few days. "How are things going, my son?" "Holy father, I don't see them any more, but I still hear them shouting and threatening in the distance." Again he gave him some food and poured out prayer for him, then shut the door and went away. It was the fortieth day before he visited him again. "How are things going, my son?" "O saint of God, very well. For in a dream today I saw you fighting for me and overcoming the devil." He prayed as usual, then led him out and took him to his own room. In the morning he called a meeting consisting not only of the reverend clergy, but people from the monasteries and all the people who were friends of Christ. "Beloved children," he said, "Let us give thanks to the God of all. Look how the good shepherd is about to lift the lost sheep on to his shoulders and bring him back into the Church. Now what we must do is spend the night in vigil, praying that the corruptor of souls does not prevail against his good intentions" The gathered people immediately acted on his words, and spent the night praying in tears to God with their good pastor, and crying Kyrie Eleison. At daybreak the saint took the slave by the hand and along with the whole crowd of people led him into the holy church of God with psalms and hymns. Who should appear but the devil, that perpetual bane of our lives. In a last ditch effort to stave off defeat, he arrived with all his pernicious power and without being seen seized hold of the boy, trying to snatch him from the saint's hand, making the boy cry out loud. "Saint of God, help me!" The devil renewed his grip on the boy, trying to overcome and subvert even the noble Basil as well. "Shameless violator of souls!" cried the saint, turning on the devil, "father of darkness and perdition, isn't your own damnation and the damnation of those you have already won over to yourself enough for you? Will you never cease from attempting to deface the image of God?" "You have condemned me unheard, Basil!" the devil said, and many of us could hear what he was saying. "May the Lord curse you," replied Basil "But you are prejudging me, Basil. It was not I who approached him, but he who came to me, renouncing Christ, and making a solemn pact with me, and here is the document itself, which in the day of judgment I shall lay before the Judge." "Blessed be the Lord our God! The people here will not cease from lifting up their hands to heaven until you have given up that document," and turning to the people he went on, "Lift up your hands to heaven, mingling the cry of Kyrie Eleison with your tears." The people stood for a long hour lifting up their hands to heaven, until at last they all saw the slave's document whisked up in the air and come to rest in the hands of our noble pastor and father Basil. He held it up, and gave thanks to God with a great shout of joy, along with all the people "Do you recognise this little bit of writing?" he asked the boy. ""I do, O saint of God," he said. "It is my own handwriting." Basil tore it in two, and led the slave into the church, where he was held worthy to be present at the sacred offering of the Mass, and to participate in the holy mysteries and gifts of Christ. By this great undertaking of his, Basil gave fresh life to all the people. He took the slave and gave him instruction, and restored him to his wife, glorifying and praising God without end. Amen.

Chapter IX That noble man, Helladius, whom we have already mentioned [see Chapter VIII.] also tells the story of how our great holy father Basil went out of the city one fine day without telling anyone where he was going. Helladius arrived at our house and said to us: "Follow me, my sons, and witness along with me the glory of God, and give praise to the master of one of his disciples." Now soon after our father had left the city, a certain holy presbyter called Anastasius became aware of it by the power of the Spirit, and mentioned him by name to his wife (who was living with him as a sister). "I am going out to work in the fields, my lady sister," he said to her, "but you get busy and tidy the house, and around about the ninth hour take the thurible and a wax taper and go out to meet the holy Archbishop Basil for he is coming to visit our house." With some trepidation at such a glorious piece of news she did as she was asked. She was a virgin, who by saying that she was sterile had kept it secret that she had been living chastely with her husband for forty years. She met us with all due modesty and exchanged greetings with us, first of all asking a blessing from our holy father. "And how are you keeping, mistress Theognia?" asked Basil. She was thunderstruck at being addressed by her proper name, but managed to reply that she was well. "And where is master Anastasius, the presbyter, your brother?" "He is my husband, sir, and has gone out to work in the fields." "No, he is in the house. Don't jest with me." She was thrown into confusion not only by this last remark and by the fact that he had addressed her by name, but also that this godbearing father of ours had taken her to be Anastasius' sister, whereas she was known everywhere as his wife. Thunderstruck, overcome by fear, she fell at his feet. "O saint of God," she cried, "pray for me a sinner, for I am witnessing great and wonderful deeds." Basil made the sign of the cross over her. "Hold out your apron in your two hands," he then said, "and pour the coals from the thurible into it and put on incense." Then, with him leading the way, we all went to the house of the presbyter, who came out to meet us, kissed Basil's feet, and greeted him in the name of the Lord. "How is it that the saint of God comes to visit me?" he asked. "I am glad to have found you, O disciple of Christ, " said our father. Come, let us go and celebrate the Mass of God." The presbyter of God was fasting every day except Saturday and Sunday, taking nothing except bread and water. When they got to the church, Basil asked the presbyter to sing the Mass. "O saint of God," replied the presbyter, "being asked to do that is a case of a bad person being given a blessing by someone far better!" "Nevertheless, be obedient with all your heart," replied our father. The presbyter agreed, and stood at the altar for the holy Mass. When it came to the time of the elevation of the life-giving body of our Lord Jesus Christ, the saint of God and some of the worthy men with him saw the holy Spirit coming down in the shape of fire, surrounding the presbyter and the holy altar. We all communicated and gave thanks to God, after which we went back to the presbyter's house and took food. "Tell me where your treasure is, "said the saint of God, "and what your life is like." "O saint of God." said the presbyter. I am just a poor sinner relying on payments from the public (subiacens publicis tributis). I have four oxen, one of which I use in my fields, one I hire out, one is for the use of pilgrims, and the fourth I use to pay my taxes. That is my retinue of servants, ministering to the needs of my guests and myself." "Call your sister, for that is what she is, and tell me about the things you do." "I don't do anything good on this earth, I can't lay claim to any virtue." The father of us all then got up, asked the presbyter to follow him and went to the door of a very small room in the house. "Open the door of this room," he said. "O saint of God, don't ask to go in there. It is only a necessary store room." "But this is the reason I have come here." The presbyter still would not unlock the door, but our wonderful father opened it by simply speaking a word of command. When he went in he found inside a man covered all over with ulcerous sores, and nobody had known he was there except the presbyter and his sister. "Why have you been hiding away your treasure like this?" asked the holy father. "He is mentally deranged, sir, and liable to cause injury to others and, in a word, I was frightened he might get killed." "You have described him very well. But give me a night to minister to him, and let's see if I can bring about a reward for what you have done." We were rendered speechless by what seemed to be an unreasonable obsession, but we left the holy man in the little room with that ulcerous man, shut the door and departed. This healer of wounds then spent all night with the man, praying to God the healer of all ills and infirmities, and the man was cured. "Glory to you. O God!" cried the presbyter. "For you perform miracles and hear the prayers of those who fear you. Look, the doctor has made the sick man whole!" And at this very moment the saint of God called out to us to open the door. He led forth the ulcerous man totally cured, without a mark on his body, speaking plainly and glorifying God. This great miracle having been brought to a conclusion, we returned to our own city, joyfully praising and blessing the Lord, to whom be honour and glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Chapter X There was a woman of noble family, well endowed with worldly goods, totally immersed in the vanities of this world, occupying the highest rank in society, who, even when she was widowed, continued to spend money with great abandon, lived luxuriously, gave herself up to every kind of vice, never did anything pleasing to God, but was like a pig rolling about in her own excrement. But God gave her a nudge and she came to herself. Her mind was suddenly illuminated with knowledge of the enormity of her sins. She went through them all in her mind and wept in great grief. "Woe is me, a sinner!" she cried. "How can I make up for all the sins I have done? I have corrupted the temple of the spirit. I have a soul in this body of mine and I have befouled them both. Woe is me! Woe is me! What shall I do? What's got into me? Can I say that I have sinned like the harlot of that publican?" But God wants all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth, and he wills no one to perish. And as she turned all these things over in her mind, God gave her the grace to remember all the sins she had done from her youth up. She sat down and wrote out a list of all her offences from her youth up to her present age. She headed the list with the worst great sin she had ever done, and signed her name to it all. Choosing a suitable time when she knew that the holy Basil was accustomed to go to the church to pray, she ran out in front of him, prostrated herself at his feet and threw the list down in front of him. "O saint of God," she cried, "have mercy on me, have mercy on all my sins." "Why all this weeping and lamenting?" that most blessed man asked in a most caring tone of voice. "Look, O saint of God, I have written out all my sins and offences in this list, and signed it. I beg you, O saint of God, do not ignore this list, but by your holy prayers wipe out everything in it." The great and holy Basil picked it up and lifted up his eyes to heaven. "To you alone, O Lord, the deeds of this woman lie open, but you have taken away the sins of the world, and are easily able to wipe out the sins of this one single soul. Indeed, all our offences are numbered in your sight, but your mercy is boundless and beyond compare." Saying this, he went into the church holding the list in his hand, prostrated himself before the altar and prayed the whole night through, until the end of the solemnity of the Mass next day. He then went to the woman and handed her back the list. "Have you heard that no one can forgive sins but God alone?" "I have, father, but that is why I begged you to intercede to the mercy of God for me." She then unfolded the paper, and found that all the sins had been blotted out except for that one great sin at the beginning. Seeing this sin still there, not wiped out at all, she beat her breast in anguish, and fell at his feet in tears. "Have mercy on me, O servant of God most high, and since you have struggled with all my other sins and been heard, surely you must be able to intercede for this single one that is left for it be wiped out also?" The holy Basil wept for sheer pity. "Rise, poor woman," he said. "I am only a human being in need of forgiveness. He who forgives has wiped out your sins as you wished, and he who has taken away the sins of the world is able to take away this sin also. If you are faithful from now on, and walk in the law of the Lord, you will not only find forgiveness of your sins but you will be found worthy of glory. Now go out to the desert, and from among all the holy fathers seek out a holy man called Ephraem. Give him the paper, and he will intercede to God for you and obtain from the Lord what you want." She took this holy bishop of God at his word and made a rather long journey into the desert till she found this great and marvellous hermit called Ephraem. She knocked on his door and cried out. "Have mercy on me, have mercy O Saint of God!" He discerned in the spirit the reason for her coming and replied: "Go away, woman, for I am only a sinful human being, in need of forgiveness also." "But holy Basil the Archbishop sent me to you," she said, as she threw the paper at his feet, "so that you can pray to God for this last sin in the list to be wiped out. Holy Basil by his prayers has had all the other sins wiped out, so, O saint of God, don't be so reluctant to pray for this one sin. It is for this very reason that I have been sent to you." "No, my daughter. If Basil was able to obtain pardon for all those other sins, surely he can do the same for this one? Go, don't delay, go and see him again, before his soul departs from his body." She took this holy confessor at his word and returned to Caesarea. When she got into the city she was met by a funeral procession carrying holy Basil's body. She fell to the ground and cried out against the saint of God. "Woe is me a sinner. Woe! I am undone! Woe is me, O saint of God, for you directed me into the desert so that you could depart this life without being bothered by me any more. And look, I have come back without getting any results after taking such a long journey through miles of sand in vain. Let the Lord God look down and judge between me and you, for you could have interceded to God and been answered without having to send me to someone else." And she threw the paper on to the street in front of the people carrying Basil's body, and gave them a detailed account of what she had gone through. One of the clergy, desperate to know what the one great sin was, picked up the paper, unfolded it, and found it totally wiped clean, "Woman," he shouted, "There is nothing written on this paper at all. What a great labour and anguish you have imposed upon yourself, unaware of the great things God in his unsearchable mercy has done for you." When the people realised the great glory of this miracle they glorified God who had such power as to be able to put away all the sins in the world, and gave such grace to his servants as to heal all ills and infirmities, and to give the power of forgiveness of sins to those who maintained true faith in God, strove to do good works and glorified God and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Chapter XI Brothers, I want to tell you also a story about the illustrious Basil and Ephraem the Syrian. I heard some of this from the mouth of our father himself, and some of it from the reliable mouth of the holy and wonderful Ephraem. So it is true.

Chapter XI (continued), Life of S Basil, Book 1a

When Ephraem was living in the desert he learned of the wonderful doings of our father Basil, sometimes by direct revelation of the holy Spirit, sometimes by question and answer, and he prayed constantly to be given an insight into what made the great Basil what he was. He was taken up into an ecstasy, and saw a column of fire, the top of which reached up to heaven and heard a voice coming from above, "Ephraem, Ephraem, the great Basil is like this column of fire that you have seen." So taking an interpreter with him, because he did not speak Greek, he went to the great church that had the great name of Caesarea, and arrived during the holy feast of the Theophany. He went in, unrecognised, and saw the great Basil processing in to the church. He saw that he was dressed in a glistening white robe, and surrounded by reverend clergy all clothed in white and bowing to him. "I think we have been labouring in vain," he said, as he watched the service from an inconspicuous part of the church, "for this brother, living in such ceremony, is nothing like the vision I saw. We who have borne the labour and heat of the day profit nothing, and yet this man is given such obsequiousness and human respect! I am amazed!" At the very moment that he was saying this, the holy man sent his Archdeacon out, telling him to go down to the West door where he would find in an inconspicuous place a man dressed in a monastic robe, with a thinning beard, rather small, and mentioning other details of his appearance, and tell him that his holy father the Archbishop invited him to come up into the sanctuary. "You have made a mistake," said Ephraem through his interpreter. "We are simply visitors." The Archdeacon went back and repeated this to the great Basil as he was singing from the sacred books. The holy man looked down and saw a tongue of fire coming from Ephraem's mouth and he spoke to the Archdeacon again. "Go down and say, 'Master Ephraem, please come up into the holy sanctuary, it is the Archbishop who asks you into the holy sanctuary.'" The holy Ephraem was thunderstruck at these words, gave glory to God and changed his mind completely. "Truly, Basil is great," he said. " Basil truly is a column of fire. Truly the holy Spirit speaks through his mouth. But tell him I would rather greet him in the sacristy after the Mass." When the Mass was over he went up into the sacristy. Basil greeted him by name and gave him a holy kiss in the Lord. "You are more than welcome," he said, "for you have multiplied the disciples of Christ in the Church and expelled demons through Christ in whose power you have laboured. Father, what you see in me is just a human sinner. May the Lord give you the reward of all your labour. " The praiseworthy Ephraem replied by telling him all that was in his heart, as did the abba who was with him. They placed themselves in his holy hands, and with great affection and esteem the holy Ephraem had a request to make. "Reverend father", he said, "there is one gift I would ask of you and I pray that you will grant it me." "Ask whatever you like, for I owe you a great deal, especially for all the work you have done and for coming here today." "Holy father, I know that whatever you ask from God is granted. Pray God that I may be able to speak Greek." "That is beyond my power to grant. But since you have asked in faith, come, father and teacher of the desert, let us pray to the Lord together, for he is able to grant your request. It is written, 'He grants the wishes of those who fear him and hears their prayer and brings them into a place of safety' (Psalms 145.19)." They prayed together for several hours. "Master Ephraem," said Basil when they had risen from prayer, "why should you not be ordained to the presbyterate, for you are worthy of it." "Because I am a sinner," he said through the interpreter. "I wouldn't mind if I only had your sins! Come, let us prostrate ourselves." And as they lay on the floor that great priest laid his hand on holy Ephraem, said the prayer for the Deacon and told him to stand up. His tongue was opened and he recited in Greek the salve, the miserere, the suscipe, and the conserva nos Deus in tua gratia. and so it was fulfilled what was written in the scriptures, 'Then shall the lame man leap like a hart, and the mouth of the dumb shall be unstopped' (Isaiah 35.5) And at that hour they both praised God in the Greek tongue. For he is all powerful and hears the prayers of those who fear him. He ordained Ephraem presbyter and his interpreter deacon, and sent them on their way in peace, 'glorifying God for all they had heard and seen, as it was told them' (Luke 2.20).





Life No 9 Book Ib The Life of St Ephraem of Syria, (Life of St Simeon Stylites begins further down page), a deacon of Edessa, by an unknown Greek writer translated into Latin by Gerardus Vossius Chapter 1 Our holy father Ephraem came from in the East, born of godly Syrian parents in Edessa. He lived during the times of the great Emperor Constantine and others who reigned after him. He kept himself innocent of evil deeds from his youth up. While he was still a boy, his parents in a dream saw a vision of a fruit-laden vine growing out of Ephraem's mouth, which grew to such an extent that it spread over everything under the heavens. All the birds of the air came and fed on its fruit, yet however much they ate there was still plenty left. He sought the desert from a very young age, developing a bottomless store of compunction, through which he was able to receive the divine grace of the holy Spirit.

Chapter II Someone else, inspired by the breath of God, had a night vision in which he saw an awe-inspiring man holding a large volume and asking: "Who is able, do you think, to take this book and guard it?" And a voice came to him: "No one other than Ephraem my servant." And Ephraem, standing near, opened his mouth and devoured the book, from whence a flood of teaching sent by God streamed forth, full of compunction and penitence, filling the mind with a fear of judgment and of the second coming in majesty of the King and Lord of all, Jesus Christ our true God, who will reward each one according to his works. Thus was certified the purity and truth of the divine teachings contained in his writings.

Chapter III Again, another of the holy old men saw in a vision a band of Angels coming down out of heaven by God's command, carrying a proclamation, a scroll with writing within and without. And they spoke among themselves: "To whom may we entrust this scroll?" And some said this and some said that, and others replied as follows: "Truly there are many saints and righteous people, but this scroll should be entrusted to no one except Ephraem, meek and humble of heart." And the old man saw that they gave the scroll to holy Ephraem. In the morning he heard the most striking words of wisdom for the instruction of others streaming from Ephraem's mouth, full of compunction and the fear of God, scattered about as from a free flowing fountain. And the old man knew that what flowed from that mouth had been inspired by the holy Spirit.

Chapter IV This holy father Ephraem was filled with a desire to visit the city of Edessa and he prayed to God: "Lord Jesus Christ, let me visit that city, and when I enter let there be someone to meet me with whom I can explore the meaning of the Scriptures." A woman who was one of the city's prostitutes met him as he was going through the gate. Ephraem the servant of God was disappointed when he saw her. "Lord Jesus Christ," he said, "you have despised the prayers of your servant Ephraem. What sort of common ground would this woman have with me in discussing the Scriptures?" The woman stood still, gazing at him. "Tell me, my girl, why are you standing there staring (intueor) at me so intently?" "I can look at (intueor) you, because as a woman I was created out of your manhood. But you do not give me any respect at all (intueor), you only see the dust of the ground out of which you were created" (Genesis 2). When Ephraem the servant of God heard that, he looked up to heaven and glorified God who had given her the wisdom to be able to give him such an answer as that. He realised that God had not despised his prayer. He went on into the city where he stayed for some time.

Chapter V It so happened that another prostitute lived next door to the guesthouse in which he was staying. After he had been there for a few days, he heard her say, "Give me a blessing, abba." He looked up and saw her looking out at him through her window. "God bless you," he said. "Isn't there something you have been lacking in your cell and enclosure?" "Yes, a few stones and cement in order to block up the window you are looking through." "Look, I spoke to you first and you have responded. I would like to sleep with you, and would you really want to not have anything to do with me?" "Well, if you want to sleep with me, come with me to a place of my choosing and sleep with me there." "Tell me where and I will come." "If you really want to sleep with me I would not be able to do it anywhere else but in the middle of the city." "Wouldn't you be ashamed for people to see you doing that?" "If human beings can make us feel ashamed, how much more should the God whom we ought to fear make us feel ashamed! He knows all human secrets, for he it is who shall come to judge the world and reward each one of us according to our works " (Romans 2.5-6). The prostitute was pricked in her conscience at these words. She came out to him and fell at his feet weeping. "Servant of God," she said, "lead me into the way of salvation, and deliver me from my many sins and wicked doings." So the holy old man gave her many things from the holy Scriptures to think about and confirm her in her repentance. He then took her into a monastery, and thus rescued her from the company of the reprobate.

Chapter VI He left that city and went to Caesarea in Cappadocia, where he went into the church and found the holy Basil the Archbishop preaching to the people. The blessed Ephraem began to sing his praises in a loud voice. Some of the crowd wondered who this stranger was, praising Basil like that. "He's fawning upon him hoping to get some reward!" they said. After he had finished preaching, Basil said, "Bring that man to me who is standing there singing my praises." They brought him. "Why are you standing there lifting up your voice in my praise, master Ephraem?" "I kept on shouting and praising because I saw a pure white dove standing on your right shoulder and whispering into your ear what you were to say to the people." The great Basil, full of the holy Spirit, then recognised him. "You are that Ephraem from Syria, are you not? I see in you something which I have always understood you to possess, a love of quiet. As it is written in the prophet David, Ephraem is the strength of my head (Psalms 60.7 & 108.8). For your gentleness, clemency and simplicity are as unmistakeable as a light visible to all."

Chapter VII (This chapter almost the same as in Book V.x.21) Ephraem travelled on a bit further and was again approached by a prostitute trying to trip him up. She hoped to get him agree to commit fornication or at least to make him lose his temper, which nobody had ever seen him do. He said to her, "Follow me", and took her to a very crowded part of the city. "Here is the place," he said. "Come on, let's do what you want." "How can we do that here?" she said, looking at the crowd. "Wouldn't we be ashamed?" "If you are ashamed because of human beings seeing you, ought you not to be ashamed because of God who brings to light all the hidden things of darkness?" The deed was not done. Thoroughly confused, she went away, unable to prevail against him in the slightest, not even making him lose his temper.

Chapter VIII And there you have the contests undergone by the great Ephraem, who was a man most patient, gentle, pure and simple, seeking God without guile, as was written of Job (Job 1.1), unassuming and modest, humble and full of compunction beyond belief. Even when remaining silent, his countenance was enough to teach something to any one gazing upon him, for he was intent upon pouring out all his prayers to God. This holy father of ours lived a good and blessed life, he provided an example of divine virtue, he produced many instructions on holy doctrine, and when at last he was aware of his approaching death he left a last testament for his disciples and for monks in general, warning them about future events. He was ill for only a short while before he fell asleep in the Lord and was buried by his disciples in the desert. By his prayers and intercessions may Christ our God make us worthy of imitating his divine life, and obtain mercy and the remission of all the sins into which we may have fallen. To Christ our God belongs all honour and worship, with the Father and the holy and life-giving Spirit unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Life No 10 The Life of St Simeon Stylites by Antony, his disciple

Chapter I (Another account of this Life in Book IX.xxvi) The holy Simeon was chosen by God from his mother's womb and sought how to please and obey him. His father was called Sufocion, and had no other education than that supplied by his parents. At the age of thirteen he saw a church one day as he was feeding his father's sheep. He left his sheep and went inside where, after hearing the Apostle being read, he approached one of the elders. "What was the meaning of that which was being read?" he asked. "It was about the underlying reality (substantia) of the soul," replied the old man, "and how a human being may learn to fear the Lord with all his heart and with all his mind" (Luke 10.27). "What does fearing God mean?" "Why are you asking me such serious questions?" "I am seeking through you for an answer from God. I want to learn about the things I was listening to, because I am ignorant and unlearned." "If you fast continually, offer prayer moment by moment, humble yourself before all other human beings, renounce attachment to money, parents, clothing or possessions, but nevertheless honour your father and mother and the priests of God, you will inherit the eternal kingdom. And on the contrary, if you do not keep these things you will inherit the outer darkness which God has prepared for the devil and all his angels (Matthew 22.13 & 25.30). All these things, my son, are fully lived out in monasteries." At these words Simeon fell at his feet. "You are my father and mother," he said, "teacher of everything good, and a guide to the kingdom of heaven. You have won over my soul, which before was on the way to perdition. May the Lord reward you for the change wrought in my soul. I shall do as you say and go to a monastery, if God wills, and may his will be done in me." "My son, before you go off to a monastery, listen carefully to what I say. You will find tribulation, you will have to serve and keep vigil in nakedness, and undergo unknown evils before finding consolation as a precious vessel of God."

Chapter II The blessed Simeon left the church and went straight away to the monastery of that magnificent man, the holy Timothy. He lay for five days outside the monastery, neither eating nor drinking. On the fifth day abba Timothy went out to him. "Where are you from, my son? And who are your parents, that have driven you to this? What is your name? Perhaps you have committed some crime, or you are a slave running away from your master?" "Nothing like that at all, sir. I want only to be God's slave, if he wills it so, and save my soul from perdition. Let me be admitted into the monastery to be a servant of all. Don't leave me outside any longer." The abbot took him by the hand and led him inside. "My sons," he said to the brothers, "see, I am giving you this brother. Teach him all the rules of the monastery." He spent four months obedient to all without complaint, during which time he learnt the Psalter by heart, and daily received divine nourishment. The food which he was given along with the brothers he secretly gave to the poor without a thought for the morrow, for whereas the brothers ate every evening, he ate only once a week.

Chapter III He went one day to the well to draw water, and took the rope from the wellhead, which the brothers used for drawing water and wound it round his body next to his skin, from his loins up to his neck. He went inside and told the brothers that he could not find the rope at the wellhead when he went to the well. "Hush, brother," they said, "the abbot will deal with that in due course." His body became infected because of the weight and roughness of the rope, which was cutting him to the bone. It buried itself into his flesh, as soon became apparent. For one day the brothers went out and caught him giving his food to the poor. They came back in and told the abbot. "Where ever did you get this person from?" they asked him. "We can't abstain from food as he does. He fasts from one Sunday to the next, and gives his food to the poor, and there is a most horrible stink coming from his body which is more than anyone can bear. Maggots fall off him as he walks along. His bed is full of maggots." The abbot immediately went and found it was all just as they had said. "My son," he said to Simeon, "what is all this the brothers have been telling me about you? Isn't it enough for you to fast in the same measure as the rest of us do? Haven't you heard the Gospel telling us that the disciple is not above his master, and everyone is made perfect if he does as his teacher does? (Matthew10.24-25) And tell me, my son, what is the reason for this stink which comes from your body?" The blessed Simeon just stood there, saying nothing. The abbot was angry, and ordered him to strip, and discovered the rope round his body covering everything except his head. "However did this person come to us?" he cried, "overturning all the rules of the monastery? I am telling you now, you will have to leave us, and go wherever you like." But with great care and difficulty they removed the rope from his body together with his rotten flesh, and looked after him for many days until he was cured.

Chapter IV Once cured, he left the monastery without telling anybody and went to an abandoned, dried up water hole, not far from the monastery, which was infested with unclean spirits. And that same night the abbot was shown a troop of demons surrounding the monastery with swords and cudgels, shouting, "Timothy, give us Simeon the servant of God. If not, we will burn the monastery down and you with it, for you have done an injury to that just man." When he woke up he called the brothers and told them that he had seen a vision and was very worried about it. On another night he saw a crowd of strong men standing around him and crying, "Give us Simeon, the servant of God, for he is beloved of God and the Angels. Why have you punished him? He is greater in the sight of God than you are, and all the Angels of God grieve for him, for God intends to do many signs through him in this world such as nobody else has ever done." In great fear, the abbot called the brothers together. "Search out that man and bring him back here, lest we all die because of him. Truly he is a saint of God. I have seen and heard great things of him." All the monks went out looking for him, searching everywhere and not finding him. They came back and reported to the abbot. "There is nowhere left where we have not searched, unless perhaps he is near that deserted waterhole." "I am asking you, brothers, to look there for him, and I will go with you. He is truly a saint and servant of God." He chose five of them to go with him to the waterhole. Saying a prayer he went down into it with the brothers. When the blessed Simeon saw them coming he began to speak to them. "Servants of God, I beg you, leave me in peace for an hour, that I may refresh my spirit which is somewhat disturbed as yet. My soul is greatly troubled, for I have offended God." "Come, servant of God," said the abbot, "let us take you back to the monastery. For I now know that you are a servant of God." He did not want to go, but they took him by force back to the monastery, where everyone prostrated themselves at his feet in tears. "We have sinned against you, servant of God," they said. "Forgive us." "Why are you making the burden on this unhappy sinner even greater?" Simeon said with a deep sigh. "It is you who are our fathers and servants of God." But he stayed with them for a further year.

Chapter V He left without telling anyone, and went to a place not far from the monastery where he built a little cell of dry stone walling. He stayed there for three years, and many people sought him out to ask for his prayers. Then he built a little column four cubits high, on which he lived for four years. As his holy reputation spread throughout the world, the pressure of people caused him to make a column twelve cubits high, on which he lived for twelve years. They then made him a column twenty cubits high, on which he lived for a further twelve years. All the people who had gathered there then built two basilicas near him and built another column for him thirty cubits high. where he lived for four years and began to perform miracles. He cured many people who came to him with diseases or demons, and restored sight to the blind. Withered hands were restored to health, the deaf heard and lepers were cleansed. He persuaded many people to embrace the Christian faith, Saracens, Persians, Armaceni and Laoti. Allophyli likewise heard about him and his powers, and came to bow down before him.

Chapter VI The devil in his envy then changed himself into the likeness of an Angel and appeared in splendour in a fiery chariot with horses of fire, next to the column where the blessed Simeon was standing. Simeon too was lit up with a fiery splendour like an Angel. "Simeon," said the devil in dulcet tones, "Listen to the word which the Lord has charged me to bring you. For he has sent me, his Angel, with fiery chariot and horses, to catch you up as once I caught up Elijah (2 Kings 2.11). The time has come for you likewise to step up into this chariot which the Lord of heaven and earth has sent. Let us go likewise into heaven that you may be seen by Angels and Archangels and Mary the mother of the Lord, with Apostles and Martyrs, Confessors and Prophets, where you may speak with the Lord who created you in his image. That is all. Come up without delay."





Chaopter VI (continued), Life of St Simeon Stylites , Book Ib

"Lord," said Simeon, "Do you really want to take me, a sinner, up to heaven?" He lifted his right foot to go up into the chariot and with his right hand made the sign of the cross. Suddenly the devil was nowhere to be seen. He vanished along with his persuasiveness like dust before the face of the wind, so that Simeon was then sure it was the devil.

Chapter VII When he came to himself he said to his foot, "Don't come back down, but stay like that until my death, until the Lord summons me, sinner that I am." Meanwhile the devil had coolly wounded him in the thigh, which became infected with a horde of maggots which scattered out of his body and wriggled about at his feet on the column, and from thence fell down to the ground. It was a certain youth called Antony, his assistant, who witnessed this and wrote it down. Simeon told him to collect the maggots which had fallen and bring them up to him. And he put them back into his wound as Job did. "Eat what the Lord gives you," he said to the maggots.

Chapter VIII Basilicus, king of the Saracens, heard about him and came to visit him. As he looked up at him a maggot fell from Simeon's body as he stood in prayer. The king ran to pick it up and in act of faith held it above his eyes. "Why do that, your majesty?" said Simeon when he saw what the king was doing. "It makes me feel guilty, for the maggot had fallen out of my putrid body." At these words the king opened his hand and found a most precious pearl in it. "This is no putrid maggot," he said, "but a most precious pearl." "It is given to you as a human being according to your faith," said Simeon. "May it be blessed in your hands all the days of your life." And that man of faith withdrew inside.

Chapter IX Quite a long time after this his mother heard where he was and came to visit him, but he would not let her see him, for women were forbidden to enter that place. "Just wait for a little while," said Simeon, when he heard her voice, "and we shall see each other, God willing." She began to weep when she heard his voice, and loosed her hair and besought him earnestly. "My son, why have you done this? As a reward for carrying you in my womb, you have filled me with grief. For the milk with which I fed you, you have given me tears. For the kisses that I showered on you, you have given me bitter pains in my heart. For the pain and labour that I suffered for you, you have given me the most painful wounds." She spoke so feelingly that we all wept. As Simeon listened to the voice of his mother he buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly. "Dear Mother," he said, "Be at peace for a little while, and we shall see each other in the place of eternal rest." "In the name of Christ who formed you, if there is a possibility of seeing you as a sort of stranger in that great time, why not let me see you now? Or if not, now that I have heard your voice, let me die at once, for your father has already died from grieving for you. Don't leave me any longer in this state of bitterness, my son." In weeping and wailing she went into a state of trance, and continued her pleadings to him for three days and three nights. Simeon then prayed to the Lord and she straightway gave up he spirit. They picked up her body and brought it to where he could see it. "May the Lord receive you into his joy," said Simeon, weeping, "for you have been greatly troubled on my behalf. You carried me in your womb for nine months, you fed me with your milk, and worked hard in caring for me." As he said this, we all noticed drops of sweat appearing on his mother's brow and we saw her body move. Simeon lifted up his eyes to heaven. "O Lord God of power," he cried, " you sit among the Cherubim, and see into the depths of the pit, you knew Adam before he existed, you have promised the riches of the kingdom of heaven to those who love you, you spoke to Moses in the burning bush, you gave your blessing to Abraham our father, you lead the souls of the righteous into paradise and the souls of the wicked into perdition, you tamed the two lions (Daniel 6.22) and saved your servants from the fiery furnace of the Babylonians (ibid. 3.28), You sent the ravens to feed Elijah (1 Kings 17.6), receive now her soul in peace and place her among the holy fathers, for yours is the power unto the ages of ages."

Chapter X It was after this that they built him a bigger column forty cubits high on which he stood for sixteen years until his death. During this time a huge wild beast (draco) was living near him in the region of Aquilo, and preventing the grass from growing. A piece of wood had damaged his right eye so that he cold no longer see out of it. He came one day to the area where the man of God lived, writhing itself into complicated coils as if asking pardon, and lowering its head in humility. Simeon looked at it carefully, and pulled a piece of wood a cubit in length out of its eye. All who saw it glorified God, even though they had kept well back through fear. The beast curled itself up and lay unmoving while all the people walked past it. Then it got up and bowed down before the door of the monastery for about two hours, before going back to its den without doing anyone any harm.

Chapter XI A certain woman, feeling thirsty one night, went to the water jar for a drink and swallowed a little serpent which had been in the jar. It lodged in her stomach, and all the efforts of doctors, spellbinders and wizards were unable to do anything about it. After a while she was taken to the holy Simeon, who ordered her to be placed on the ground and water from the monastery to be put into her mouth. He then cried loudly, and pulled out of her mouth a serpent three cubits long. The serpent burst within the hour, after having been inside her for seven days. In that same hour the woman was restored to health.

Chapter XII The greatest possible eloquence would hardly be sufficient to describe adequately all his miracles, but his powers were so great that they cannot be passed over in silence. It so happened that water was in very short supply in the region, and the people and all the animals were in danger of perishing for lack of water. Holy Simeon saw their plight and stood in prayer. At about the tenth hour of the day there was a sudden earthquake which caused an enormous upheaval in the land to the East of the monastery. A cleft appeared in which could be seen an immeasurable amount of water. He ordered a well to be dug seven cubits deep, and from that time onwards there has been no lack of water right up to the present day. It was at this time also that there were a group of people travelling from a distance to seek for Simeon's prayers and witness his deeds, and they paused on the way to rest under a leafy tree because of the heat. As they were sitting there they suddenly saw a pregnant deer walking by. "By the prayers of the holy Simeon," they cried, "we conjure you to stay still for us to catch you." And the deer stayed absolutely motionless. They caught it and killed it, and after eating some of it they were struck dumb, and it was in this condition that they arrived before holy Simeon, carrying the deer's hide with them. They stayed there for two years without being able to find a complete cure for their dumbness. Their crime was so wicked that it is almost a crime to talk about it. The hide of the deer was hung up in the church as a witness to the miracle of the cursing.

Chapter XIII There was a large leopard in those parts killing both humans and animals over a wide area. The people came from there to the holy Simeon and told him of all the great evils which the beast was responsible for. The holy Simeon ordered that some of the earth from the monastery should be taken and scattered about in that place, and it was done. The people carried out a search a little later and found the leopard lying dead, and they all glorified the God of Simeon.

Chapter XIV This is the injunction he gave to someone he had cured: "Go home and give glory to God who has cured you, and don't dare to say that Simeon cured you. And don't presume to swear by the name of the Lord. That is a grave sin. If you must, swear by me a humble sinner, whether you are right or wrong." This is why all the Eastern and barbarous peoples of that region swear by Simeon.

Chapter XV A certain robber from Antioch named Ionathas suddenly burst into the monastery followed by many pursuers, like a lion pursued by a hunting party and unable to hide from them. He embraced the column of the holy Simeon and wept bitterly. "Who are you, my son?" asked Simeon, "and where have you come from and why have you come here?" "I am Ionathas, a robber. I have committed many crimes and have come here to repent." "Of such is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 19.14), said the holy Simeon, "but don't try and put me to the test, lest you be found to hav