THE EARLY CHURCH FATHERS WRITINGS - VOLUME 49
Palladius, The Lausiac History, and Sulpicius Severus on Martin of Tours
c. AD 396 – 420

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INTRODUCTION TO THIS VOLUME
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HOW THIS BOOK IS ARRANGED

This is the forty-ninth volume of a series that gathers the writings of the early Church
in order of date, from the generation after the apostles down to the eighth century. This
volume holds Palladius, The Lausiac History, and Sulpicius Severus on Martin of Tours,
from the period about AD 396 – 420.

Within each work the text is divided into chapters and numbered sections, so that any
passage can be found again and cited. The small bold figures in the text are the section
numbers.

THE TRANSLATIONS

The text is in English only. Wherever a modern English version has been prepared for
SermonIndex it is used here; otherwise the book prints an older public-domain translation.
In both cases the wording is the translator’s own: older translations have not been
altered beyond dividing them into sections. The sources for every work are listed at the
back of the book, together with the licence under which each text is released. The modern
English version prepared for SermonIndex is used for The Lausiac History of Palladius, in
the Bohairic Coptic version (Palladius of Galatia); the other works are printed in older
public-domain translations.

IN THIS VOLUME

Palladius was born in Galatia about AD 363 and lived as a monk in Egypt and Palestine. He
became bishop of Helenopolis and was a friend and defender of John Chrysostom. He wrote
the Lausiac History, about AD 419, for a court official named Lausus, and the Dialogue on
the Life of Chrysostom about AD 408.

Sulpicius Severus was born in Aquitaine about AD 363 and practised as a lawyer before he
gave up his career for the ascetic life. He was a disciple of Martin of Tours and wrote
the Life of Martin about AD 396, the Sacred History, a short history of the world, about
AD 403, and the Dialogues about AD 404. He died about AD 425.

The Lausiac History is printed here in four forms: the Greek, two books of the Syriac, and
the Bohairic Coptic. They differ in their order and in some of their stories.

DATES AND AUTHORSHIP

Dates are approximate and are debated by scholars. Each work begins with a short
introduction that states what is known about its author and its date, and what is
uncertain.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK) Palladius of Galatia

c. AD 363–420

Author of the Lausiac History of the desert monks.

INTRODUCTION

PREFACE

2 MY interest in monasticism was first awakened in 1904, when I was a theological student
at Cambridge, by the publication of the second volume of Abbot Cuthbert Butler's Lausiac
History of Palladius. The appearance of a new work of scholarship, however excellent,
would have meant little to me at that time, but my imagination was struck by the dinner
which the theological teachers at Cambridge combined to give the author in honour of the
completion of his arduous task. Somehow I had not associated monks with dinnerparties, and
they appeared to me henceforward in a more human and attractive guise. In 1908 I began to
study monasticism, taking Abbot Butler's works as my guide, and have never since lost
interest in the subject. During the past year I have tried, during the few leisure hours
which were alone possible under war conditions, to forget the tragedies of the time by
making a translation of the Lausiac History. I do not know whether an ordinary critical
text, where an editor merely gives the finishing touches to the labour of his
predecessors, is copyright so far as the right of making a translation is concerned. But
in this case the text belongs to Abbot Butler in a special way, since before him all was
chaos. I am grateful therefore to him, and the Cambridge University Press his publisher,
for readily granting permission to make the present version. There is nothing original in
my book; if it succeeds in popularising the work of the Abbot of Downside, on whom the
mantle of the great Benedictine scholars of old has descended, my purpose is accomplished.

3 To a lesser extent I am indebted to M. Lucot's excellent edition and translation.
Occasionally he seems to me to have missed the meaning, but his French clarity of vision
has frequently given me the clue to the right English rendering. Finally I must express my
gratitude to the Society of which I have the honour to be Secretary for undertaking the
publication of this work at a time when it might have been tempted to postpone all such
projects until a more convenient season. May 1918.

INTRODUCTION

8 I. THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOK IN the fourth and fifth centuries of our era Egypt had come
to be regarded with great reverence throughout Christendom as a Holy Land of piety.
Pilgrims came from all parts to visit the saints who lived there, and several wrote
descriptions of what they saw and heard, which are among the most interesting documents of
the early Church. Palestine was so near that it was usually included in their tour; the
glamour of its sacred sites, which remains with us still when that of Egypt has faded into
oblivion, was already potent. But Palestine was clearly second to Egypt in the affections
of the pilgrims. The prevailing sentiment was expressed by Chrysostom with admirable
clearness (Hom. in Matt. viii.). It was eminently appropriate, he explains, that the child
Jesus should be taken to Egypt to escape Herod. Palestine persecutes Him, Egypt receives
Him. This typifies the position Egypt was to occupy in the development of the Church. The
land which had oppressed the children of Israel, had known a Pharaoh, had worshipped cats,
was destined to be more fervent than any other, to have its towns and even its deserts
peopled by armies of saints living the life of angels, and to boast the greatest, after
the apostles, of all saints, the famous Antony.

9 Palladius, the author of our book, who was destined to be Chrysostom's devoted adherent,
made a pilgrimage to this holy land, like so many others, and stayed there many years. The
following is an outline of his life, with the dates as established by Butler. He was born
in Galatia in 363 or 364, and dedicated himself to the monastic life in 386 or a little
later. In 388 he went to Alexandria; as Paul went up to Jerusalem to see Peter, James, and
John, so, he says in the Prologue, did he go to Egypt to see the saints for himself. About
390 he passed on to Nitria, and a year later to a district in the desert known as Cellia
from the multitude of its cells, where he spent nine years, first with Macarius and then
with Evagrius. At the end of the time, his health having broken down, he went to Palestine
in search of a cooler climate. In 400 he was consecrated bishop of Helenopolis in
Bithynia, and soon became involved in the controversies which centred round St. John
Chrysostom. The year 405 found him in Rome, whither he had gone to plead the cause of
Chrysostom, his fidelity to whom resulted in his exile in the following year to Syene and
the Thebaid, where he gained first-hand knowledge of another part of Egypt. In 412-413 he
was restored, after a sojourn among the monks of the Mount of Olives. His great work was
written in 419-420 and was called the Lausiac History, being composed for Lausus,
chamberlain at the court of Theodosius II. Palladius was also in all probability the
author of the Dialogue on the Life of Chrysostom. He died some time in the decade 420-430.

10 The character of the man stands out clearly in the History, He was sincere, simple-
minded and not a little credulous. His deep religious fervour, of the ascetic type,
needless to say, appears throughout the book, and especially in the concluding chapter,
which almost attains eloquence. But he had a fund of good sense, so we learn from the
Prologue, which predisposes us to a favourable judgment on the rest of the book. What
could be saner, for example, than his summing up of the question of teetotalism: "To drink
wine with reason is better than to drink water with pride" (Prol. 10)? We need not attach
much importance to the accusation of Origenism which has been the slur on his reputation.
If he admired Origen, that great and original thinker, it will hardly redound to his
discredit to-day. And he was in good company in his own day. Saints such as Basil, the two
Gregories and Chrysostom shared his tendencies; if Chrysostom the master is forgiven his
Origenism, Palladius the disciple may be forgiven also.

11 II. THE TEXT OF THE HISTORY It has been the lot of many a scholar to grapple with the
difficulties of an ancient text so successfully that the result of his labours has been
accepted as substantially representing the original work of the author: few editors indeed
can be credited with an achievement equal to that of Abbot Butler, who brought order out
of confusion and rescued for the historian a document which had been regarded with the
utmost suspicion. His conclusions were at once recognized as correct, and much that had
been written on early monasticism became obsolete, based as it was on an erroneous
estimate of the original authorities. Butler was confronted by three main documents, each
with its own textual history. A. The document which was accepted till recently as the
Lausiac History, called by Butler the Long Recension. It appears in a Latin form in
Rosweyd's Vitae Patrum (1615 and 1628), and includes the History of the Monks in Egypt
(see C below). In 1624 a Greek text was published by du Duc purporting to be the original
of Rosweyd's Latin, though in reality it was patched up from various sources. This is the
text which, with some additions, is reprinted in Migne, Patrologia Graeca, xxxiv.

12 B. Butler's Short Recension, called originally Paradisus Heraclidis, printed by Rosweyd
in his appendix. C. The Historia Monachorum in Aegypto, which was till recently supposed
to have been written in Latin by Rufinus, but turns out to be Rufinus' translation of a
Greek original compiled by an anonymous writer and describing a visit paid by a party of
seven, in which Rufinus was not included, to the Egyptian ascetics in 394-395. The Greek
text has been edited by Preuschen, and a text of Rufinus' Latin version forms part of the
Long Recension, as stated above. Tillemont long ago had seen the lines on which the
problem was to be solved, but subsequent investigators dismissed his suggestion as
impossible, and it was left for Butler to show with a wealth of argument the true
relations of the documents. His solution is briefly this: A (the Long Recension) = B (the
Short Recension) + C (Historia Monachorum). B is not an abridgment of A, nor is A
Palladius' second edition of B. In Sozomen, who used the Lausiac History (see Hist. Eccl.
I. 13 f., III. 14, VI. 28 ff., etc.), there are clear traces of B, also of C, none
whatever of A. The early versions, especially the Latin and Syriac, confirm these results.
There is no reason to think that Palladius used Greek documents, or that he translated
from the Coptic.

13 Having established this fact, that the Latin version in Rosweyd's appendix represents
substantially the work of Palladius, Butler proceeds to discuss which is the best text of
the Greek original of this. He finds that the MSS. are divided as follows: (i) The B
group, giving the Short Recension as hitherto printed. (ii) A shorter and simpler text,
which he calls the G group. (iii) An A group, which is composite of B and G. Ruling out
the A group according to the rules of textual criticism, as between B and G, he pronounces
in favour of the latter, which is supported by Sozomen and the versions, and is superior
intrinsically as well. B is a "metaphrastic" text, says Preuschen, and Butler styles it
"rhetorical, turgid and overladen." It remains to discover the best examples of the G
text. Butler finds these in a MS. in the National Library at Paris (P) and one at Christ
Church, Oxford (W). The latter was not available until more than half of the text, had
been printed, and therefore to get Butler's mature judgment on the text of the earlier
part a number of readings from W given in the appendix must be substituted for those of
the text. The two MSS. are the offspring of a common ancestor. "It is clear that P and W
have to serve as the basis of the text, pre-eminently W where it is extant." Other MSS.
are used in the main to eliminate the eccentricities of P and W. Occasionally neither are
extant, and the printed text is Butler's critical reconstruction from the other sources.

14 III. EARLY MONASTICISM The story of Egyptian monasticism is inevitably an oft-told
tale, and need not be repeated here, since summaries of it are readily accessible. All
that will be attempted is the emphasising of some points that might be overlooked.
Asceticism was inherent in Christianity from the first; it could hardly have been
otherwise among the disciples of Him Who had not where to lay His head. In 1 Corinthians
St. Paul teaches that in view of the shortness of the time before the end the unmarried
state is preferable to the married. St. John, convinced that it was the last hour, bade
his little children keep themselves from idols, a command which in practice involved
renunciation of the world. We are therefore not surprised to find asceticism a strong
force in the early post-apostolic age. There was as yet no formal separation from the
world; devotees of both sexes lived at home and were described as bearing "the whole yoke
of the Lord." When monasticism underwent its great development in the early part of the
fourth century, it was but a making explicit of what had been implicit in the Church from
its early days, and even, so it would seem, in the teaching and example of our Saviour.

15 Two questions may be asked at this point: Why did monasticism begin when it did? Why
did Egypt witness its beginning rather than some other land such as Asia Minor, which was
perhaps the most Christian part of the empire at that time? In answering the first
question one would be inclined to attach importance to the tradition which connects the
origin of monasticism with the Decian persecution (c. 250), when many Christians fled from
the settled parts of Egypt to the surrounding deserts and remained there for some time
(Dionysius of Alexandria ap. Eus. H.E. VI. 42). Some at least of these must have been
living the ascetic life at home, which they would naturally continue in the desert under
more rigorous conditions. When a later tradition affirms that certain of these remained in
the desert permanently and became the first Christian hermits, it is intrinsically so
probable that one is justified in concluding that the Decian persecution was the historic
occasion which led to the origin of monasticism.

16 Paradoxical as such an argument may seem at first sight, the cessation of persecutions
may be adduced as a main cause of the great development of monasticism. The deliverance of
the Church from this danger coincided with the adoption of Christianity as the State
religion, the swamping of old landmarks by a flood of imperfectly instructed adherents,
and the lowering of standards in the direction of worldliness. Monasticism in one of its
aspects was the reaction of the sterner spirits against the secularisation of the fourth-
century Church. Hitherto there had been an intermittent warfare of the State against the
Church which expressed itself in persecution. When persecution ceased, a need was felt on
the part of the Church for a "moral equivalent for war"; this the Church found in
monasticism, which represented the Church militant against worldliness within. If we turn
to our second question, it is not hard to see why Egypt, rather than some other country,
was the motherland of monasticism. The solitudes of Asia Minor with their rigorous winter
climate were not suitable places for ascetic experiments. Egypt, however, was ideal for
this purpose. The climate was warm and practically rainless, the desert was never far away
from the narrow strip of cultivable land, and the neighbouring mountain ranges abounded in
natural caves.

17 Another reason may be suggested. The recent discoveries of papyri have thrown a flood
of light upon the conditions of life in ancient Egypt. We can trace the ever-tightening
hold of the Government upon the people and the process by which the peasants became
ascripti glebae. The process was at work in other provinces, but Egypt was in the main
docile, had been paternally governed since the days of the Ptolemies, and was of great
importance as the granary of Italy. Accordingly the pressure of taxes and public burdens
was greatest in Egypt, and the temptation to escape from them by running away became very
strong. In the second and third centuries whole districts became depopulated by the flight
of their inhabitants. Things became worse in the fourth century. In 312 the village of
Theadelphia became "utterly deserted"; so did that of Philadelphia in 359. The peasants
ran away from their intolerable burdens. The word used for their retreat (ἀναχώρησις) is
the same as that which describes the monks (ἀναχώρηταί, anchorites). What some did from
economic, others could do from religious motives; doubtless in some cases both causes
operated.

18 Such an explanation seems far more plausible than that which used to be given,
according to which the pagan monasticism of Egypt was the model for the Christian
institution. There is little to be said for such a theory, which is indeed now generally
abandoned. The resemblance of the so-called monks of Sarapis to the later Christian monks
is merely superficial. The solitary life, begun in the desert as described above, was
organised about 305 by St. Antony, who is justly reckoned as the founder of Christian
monachism. Through the efforts of him and his disciples great colonies of monks arose, the
most famous of which were at Nitria and Scete. The cells were grouped round a central
church, where services were held on Saturday and Sunday, devotions otherwise being said in
the individual cells. The main feature of this type of monasticism was its voluntary
character; each monk lived his own life, and the monastery had a number of solitary lives
lived in common rather than a true common life.

19 The first coenobium, or monastery of the common life, was founded by Pachomius at
Tabennisi sometime in the years 315-320. Here Palladius found a federation of monasteries
constituting a true Order as understood subsequently in the West, with obedience to the
Rule and the Superior as the main principle. There is no need to discuss the two systems
here, since the reader will find both modes of life fully described in the text (see
especially Chapters VII. and XXXII.). By the side of the monks there were nuns of various
kinds. The purely solitary life was clearly inappropriate to women, though it was
attempted, as may be seen from the story of Alexandra, who lived alone in a tomb for ten
years (Ch. V.). When women were gathered into a monastery, the presence of men was
necessary if only to administer the sacraments. Convents of the Antonian type existed, but
the true common life for women was found in the Pachomian nunneries, over the first of
which Pachomius' sister was abbess. These were closely associated with the men's houses in
a system of double monasteries, which formed an economic whole, the women, for example,
making the men's clothes. This institution, carefully safeguarded as it was and providing
protection for women in a rough age, fell into suspicion in the East and was forbidden by
Justinian.

20 Little need be said about Palestine. The monastic life was introduced there early in
the fourth century by Hilarion, a disciple of Antony; the original impulse continued, and
the monasteries were mainly of the Antonian type. IV. HISTORICAL VALUE OF THE BOOK No one
would deny that Palladius reflects the age in which he lived, the more faithfully because
of his simplicity and lack of originality. His casual allusions to Church observances are
of great value. Note, for instance, the continued use of the Agape (XVI. 5), the
importance attached to frequent communion, a five weeks' abstention being enough to
deserve severe punishment (XVII. 9), the offering of the Eucharist for the dead (XXXIII.
4), the use of Holy Oil (XII. 1, XVIII. 11) and Holy Water (XVII. 9) to effect cures, the
Invocation of Saints (LX. 2), the beginnings of the Rosary (XX. 1), and generally the
great esteem in which the Bible was held, large portions being learned by heart.

21 But a novel may contain such historical data, and it has been claimed that Palladius'
History is little better than a romance. We may disregard the earlier criticisms of this
kind, since Abbot Butler has answered them satisfactorily, and confine ourselves to the
most important of recent books on the subject, Reitzenstein's Hellenistischen
Wundererzählungen (1906). He pays special attention to the Lausiac History, and tries to
prove that some at least of the stories are old literary motives formerly attached to
pagan characters. Thus the tale of Sarapion Sindonita was originally told of some Cynic
philosopher. It may be so, though the arguments are not cogent, only this scholar is too
ready to assume a literary connection where none is needed. If the same stories were told
of Egyptian peasants, heathen and Christian, the simplest explanation is that Egyptian
peasants behaved in much the same way, whether before or after conversion. The common
background of life and thought is sufficient to explain the similarity of the stories.

22 Palladius then tells what he saw and heard, his reminiscences in fact of what happened
in some cases over twenty years previously. Under such conditions the element of
exaggeration and distortion cannot be excluded. But there is no reason to doubt his good
faith when he describes what he saw for himself. Where he reports hearsay he is naturally
at the mercy of his informants. Those who told him that a virgin hid Athanasius in her
house for six years (Ch. LXIII.) were giving the exaggerated popular version of what had
happened many years ago. There is one reason why Palladius' evidence has been distrusted
which is not very creditable to nineteenth-century scholars, namely, his conviction that
he had witnessed miraculous and supernatural events. It is coming to be recognised that a
fifth-century Christian writer who did not believe in the miraculous would be a portent
which required explanation. There would be little left of the history of the time if all
the writers who believed in contemporary miracles were ruled out as unworthy of credence.

23 V. SPIRITUAL VALUE OF THE BOOK The modern reader has to contend with certain prejudices
which hinder his proper appreciation of the people depicted in the Lausiac History. To
begin with, there is the preoccupation with sexual temptations, which will offend some.
Not that this is unfamiliar to the reader of modern literature, where there is enough and
to spare of such topics. But the Christian to-day, resting upon the accumulated experience
of the Church, has learned that solitude is the worst possible condition for a man
troubled with such temptations, and is apt to be impatient with the struggles of the
solitaries. Doubtless the monks were often morbid in this matter, and it requires an
effort of sympathetic imagination to do them justice. The background of their lives must
not, however, be forgotten. Their point of view is readily intelligible when it is
regarded as a necessary reaction from the incredible corruption of the pagan society of
their day, with which even the Church was infected. Thus the women who boasted that they
had not had a bath for years are not to be laughed at or reproached for dirtiness. Their
conduct appears in a new light when compared with that of those who did take a bath, the
Christian ladies of Alexandria who defied all modesty in the public baths. They sacrificed
physical cleanliness as a protest against moral uncleanness. And the monks who fought with
their passions under the hot African sun and described their struggles with painful
frankness were doing the right thing under conditions needlessly difficult. We who have a
truer insight into the psychology of temptation must not reproach those who had not such
knowledge.

24 Again, the demonology of the Lausiac History is at times grotesque to modern eyes. In
his poem "St. Simon Stylites" Tennyson shows a just appreciation of this side of early
monachism. His description of the saints is fully borne out by the records. "Devils
pluck'd my sleeve, Abaddon and Asmodeus caught at me. I smote them with the cross; they
swarmed again. In bed like monstrous apes they crushed my chest: They flapped my light out
as I read: I saw Their faces grow between me and my book: With colt-like whinny and with
hoggish whine They burst my prayer." But the heroic nature of the warfare is easily
missed. The ascetic went into the desert knowing that the demons were awaiting him on
their own ground. The evil spirits had a special fondness for waterless places; they took
up their abode among the animals which frequented ruins. They were also identified with
the heathen gods, whose monuments and pictorial representations were to be found in the
Egyptian desert. It argued therefore no small degree of moral courage if the monk went out
alone to join battle with these potent forces of evil. We forget the squalor and
shabbiness of the Middle Ages in our admiration of the chivalry and devotion which dared
and accomplished great things, and though we laugh at Don Quixote it is with a pang of
regret that the age of chivalry is giving place to the centuries of materialism. Now the
monks went into the desert of Egypt to fight their battles in a spirit of chivalry. Maybe
they tilted at windmills sometimes, but let us never forget that the battle few won, that
their life was a successful protest against corruption in the Church, and that they handed
the lamp of spirituality down to posterity through ages which apart from them were truly
dark.

25 Tennyson was right in much of his poem, but surely he was mistaken in making his
typical ascetic speak in so uniformly penitential a vein. The great monks must have been
very happy on the whole. Cold in winter, scorched in summer, always hungry, tortured by
visions, yet they had the deep inward peace of knowing that they had obeyed the call and
were doing God's Will. Dom Morin of Maredsous in Belgium, writing shortly before the Great
War, pointed out that this is the special and inalienable happiness of the monk. "On
pourra m'expulser, comme tant d'autres, des murs paisibles du cloître, on pourra me priver
de toutes les consolations de la vie religieuse, on pourra disposer de moi de diverses
façons imprévues; il est cependant une chose que jamais on ne pourra me ravir, c'est le
bonheur d'obéir: celui-là, il m'accompagnera jusqu'à la mort." 26 The monk in an Order
obeyed the Rule and its living exponent, the Superior; the solitaries in the desert obeyed
an inward monitor. But for both obedience was the master-word, and in consequence beneath
all their surface struggles they had a deep peace of the soul. Cardinal Newman's words
about the Benedictines express better than anything else the true spirit of monasticism.
"To the monk heaven was next door; he formed no plans, he had no cares; the ravens of his
father Benedict were ever at his side. He 'went forth' in his youth 'to his work and to
his labour' until the evening of life; if he lived a day longer, he did a day's work more;
whether he lived many days or few, he laboured on to the end of them. He had no wish to
see further in advance of his journey than where he was to make his next stage. He
ploughed and sowed, he prayed, he meditated, he studied, he wrote, he taught, and then he
died and went to heaven."

27 Some, while recognising the justice of what has been said above, will maintain that
they are bound to pass an unfavourable judgment on a movement so anti-social and anti-
national as monasticism. It is pitiful, they say, to see the elect spirits of their
generation engaged in spiritual self-culture, a selfish endeavour to save their own souls.
Why did they not marry and bring up children, throw themselves into the national life, and
so strengthen the moral and economic fabric of the State that it might have had a fair
chance of resisting the barbarian onslaught that was impending? "I can never forgive
monasticism this wrong to civilisation," said a distinguished Cambridge resident to me
once. At the time I felt that the objection was unhistorical, a judging of the men of
bygone days by standards which would have been meaningless to them, resembling the
criticisms of monasticism which Charles Kingsley puts into the mouths of his characters in
Hypatia. But the objection was, after all, raised at the time, for Eusebius deals with
this very difficulty in a passage of great interest.

28 Why, he asks, did the Old Testament Saints attach such importance to marriage and the
begetting of children, while we neglect the duty? His answer is first that what was
natural in the early days of the human race is unsuitable now when we are living in the
last days----quoting St. Paul's words in 1 Corinthians vii. If the time was short in the
apostle's day, how little is left now before the advent of the new order. Then in the Old
Testament the bulk of mankind were living a life akin to that of the beasts, and so the
few who served God were obliged to have families if the holy seed was to be preserved at
all; whereas now there is such a multitude of Christians that some can be spared for the
ascetic life. He goes on to speak of spiritual children begotten by these holy men, and
points out that after all for the great majority of men the New Testament does enjoin
marriage.

29 Surely we can accept Eusebius' conclusions. There will always be enough to obey the
primitive human instincts which lead men and women to marriage; there will certainly be
enough children born from these marriages to carry on the race, if the Christian teaching
on marriage is honoured. So we can but rejoice, if out of the great number who remain
unmarried some do so in order to live a life separated from the world and devoted to
unseen things. Let us exercise a little common sense. At this distance of time who can
pretend to care whether a few little Egyptians more or less were born in the fourth
century, to live dim, undistinguished lives, cultivating the soil in order to fill the
grain-ships with bread-stuffs for Rome, or later, Constantinople? But it makes a good deal
of difference to us that men and women were ready to forsake all for Christ and that the
sweet savour of their example is still fragrant in our midst. Many of the monastic records
are exquisitely beautiful. Take, for example, the deaths of two great nuns, Emmelia and
Macrina, as described in the Life of the latter. Of Emmelia, the mother, it is said that
"when she ceased to bless, she ceased to live." Of Macrina, her daughter: "As she
approached her end, as if she discerned the beauty of the Bridegroom more clearly, she
hastened towards the Beloved with the greater eagerness."

30 Or we may quote from Palladius the answer given him by Macarius, when he complained
that he was making no progress: "Say, for Christ's sake I am guarding the walls." He
means: Comfort yourselt with the thought that the people of Egypt are living their life in
the world, exposed to so many temptations; as a protecting wall between them and the enemy
the monasteries are interposed; you with your prayers are helping to guard that wall. Is
not this the real point at issue? If we believe in prayer as the noblest and most fruitful
activity of man's nature, we shall probably be led to believe that God separates some to a
life of prayer, and that the mass of mankind dwell in greater security, thanks to the
protecting wall of the prayers of these separated ones. It is because the monks of Egypt
put spiritual things first, albeit sometimes in an exaggerated and strained fashion, and
believed in the life of prayer, that their example is of permanent value to Christendom.

31 Finally, it is a commonplace to say that we live in a materialistic age. Riches are the
pathway to power and influence over the lives of others. The Church itself is infected by
materialism, in that finance absorbs so much of its energies. Great philanthropists,
ecclesiastical statesmen, and missionaries all need money to carry out their schemes of
benefiting mankind. Of course there is a good side to this; over against our Lord's
praises of poverty must be set His teaching about stewardship. Yet one suspects that
English Christians have not so far learned all that is implied in His treatment of riches
and poverty. And so it is a salutary experience to read the Lausiac History and live for a
while in an age of the Church when renunciation of all possessions was the surest road to
fame and widespread influence for good. VI. THE PRESENT EDITION I have followed Butler's
text throughout, including the readings from W given in the Appendix, which are in some
cases to be substituted for those which appear in the body of the book. Where a different
text is followed, for example a reading suggested by C. H. Turner, the deviation from
Butler is indicated in the notes. The paragraph divisions are those of Butler, the
sections into which the chapters are divided are Lucot's.

32 In places I was confronted with language which could hardly be translated literally;
Lucot manages to do so, but the traditions of English are different. To omit the passages
would in some cases have spoiled the sense of a whole passage; besides, the book is
intended for scholars, who have a right to know what the author said. I met the difficulty
by toning down and employing euphemisms; the scholar will have no difficulty in seeing
what is meant. I cannot pretend that the compromise is satisfactory. I have aimed at the
combination of accuracy, not necessarily identical with literalness, and an easily-read
English style. Only those who have tried know how hard it is to combine the two.
Palladius, though not a stylist, is a clear and forcible writer, and the task of
translating him into English presents no special difficulty. A feature of his style is the
incessant use of the particle οὖν.

33 VII. BIBLIOGRAPHY (See also list of abbreviations.) Butler, E. C., Chapter on
"Monasticism" in Cambridge Medieval History, Vol. I. Cambridge, 1911. Cabrol, F., art. on
"Monasticism" in Encylopaedia of Religion and Ethics" Vol. VIII, Edinburgh, 1915. Clarke,
W. K. L., St. Basil the Great: A Study in Monasticism. Cambridge, 1913. Duchesne, L.,
Chapter on "Les Moines d'Orient" in Histoire Ancienne de l'Église, Vol. II. Paris, 1907.
Krottenthaler, S., Des Palladius von Helenopolis Leben der heiligen Väter (German
translation of Butler's text). München, 1912. Ladeuze, F., Le Cènobitisme Pakhomien.
Louvain, 1897. Leclercq, H., art. "Cènobitisme"in Dictionaire d'Archéologie Chrétienne.
Paris, 1910. Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, The: Athanasius, Cassian, Socrates, Sozomen.
Oxford, various dates. Zöckler, O., Askese and Monchtum. Frankfurt-a-M., 1897.
ABBREVIATIONS Budge = E. A. Wallis Budge, The Paradise of the Holy Fathers (Eng. trans, of
the Syriac version). London, 1907. Butler = E. C. Butler, The Lausiac History of
Palladius, Vol. I. 1898; Vol. II. 1904. Cambridge.

34 D.C.B. = Dictionary of Christian Biography. E.R.E. = Encyclopaedia of Religion and
Ethics. Hist. Mon. ---- Historia Monachorum in Aegypto, Rufinus (?), Greek text in
Preuschen, Palladius und Rufinus. Giessen, 1897. Lucot = Palladius, Histoire Lausiaque
(French trans. of Butler's text). Paris, 1912. Turner ---- C. H. Turner, review of
Butler's Lausiac History in Journal of Theological Studies. 1905. (....)= matter not in
the Greek added to complete the sense. [....] = (generally) translation not of the actual
Greek text but of Butler's critically reconstructed text; but see notes. [Footnotes
renumbered and moved to the end]

INTRODUCTION

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY

4 INTRODUCTORY PIECES PREFACE TO THE LIFE OF THE HOLY FATHERS [1] THIS book is a record of
the virtuous asceticism and marvellous manner of life of those blessed and holy fathers,
the monks and anchorites which inhabit the desert, (written) with a view of stirring to
rivalry and imitation those who wish to realize the heavenly mode of life and desire to
tread the road which leads to the kingdom of heaven. It contains also memoirs of aged
women and illustrious God-inspired matrons, who with masculine and perfect mind have
successfully accomplished the struggles of virtuous aceticism, (which may serve) as a
model and object of desire for those women who long to wear the crown of continence and
chastity. [2] This is how the book came to be written. A man, admirable in every way, very
learned, of peaceable disposition, religiously disposed and devout-minded, liberal towards
those who lack the necessaries of life, in respect of high distinctions preferred above
many men of rank owing to the excellence of his character, and with all this guarded
continually by the power of the Divine Spirit----such is the man who commanded us to
write, or rather, if one must tell the truth, aroused our slothful mind to the
contemplation of better things, to imitate and attempt to rival the ascetic virtues of our
holy and immortal spiritual fathers and all who have lived to please God with much
mortification of the body. [3] And so, having described the lives of these invincible
athletes, we have sent them to him, proclaiming the conspicuous virtues of each of these
great persons. I am referring to Lausus, the best of men, who by the favour of God has
been appointed guardian of our godly and religious empire; it is he who is inspired with
this divine and spiritual passion.

5 [4] I then, who am clumsy in utterance and have but a superficial acquaintance with
spiritual knowledge and am unworthy to draw up a list of the holy fathers of the spiritual
life, fearing the infinite greatness of the task set me, so much above my capacity, found
the command intolerable, requiring as it did so much worldly wisdom and spiritual
understanding. Nevertheless, respecting in the first place the eager virtue of the man who
urged us to obey the command, and considering the benefit accruing to the readers, and
fearing also the danger of a refusal albeit with a reasonable excuse, I first commended
the noble task to Providence and then applied myself diligently to it. Sustained, as if on
wings, by the intercession of the holy fathers, I attended the contests of the arena. I
have described in a kind of summary only the main contests and achievements of the noble
athletes and great men----not only illustrious men who have realized the best manner of
life, but also blessed and highborn women who have practised the highest life.

6 [5] I have been privileged to see with my own eyes the revered faces of some of these,
but in the case of others, who had already been perfected in the arena of piety, I have
learned their heavenly mode of life from inspired athletes of Christ. In the course of my
journey on foot I visited many cities and very many villages, every cave and all the
desert dwellings of monks, with all accuracy as befitted my pious intentions. Some things
I wrote down after personal investigation, the rest I have heard from the holy fathers,
and I have recorded in this book the combats of great men, and women more like men than
nature would seem to allow, thanks to their hope in Christ. I now send the whole to you
whose ears love divine oracles, to you, Lausus, who are the pride of excellent and God-
beloved men, and the ornament of the most faithful and God-beloved empire, noble and
Christ-loving servant of God. I have recorded to the best of my feeble powers the famous
name of each of the athletes of Christ, male and female, describing a few short contests
out of the many mighty ones engaged in by each, adding in most cases the family and city
and place of residence.

7 [6] We have also told of men and women who have reached the highest stage of virtue, but
owing to vainglory, as it is called, the mother of pride, have fallen into the lowest pit
and abyss of hell, and the triumphs of asceticism, so earnestly desired and so strenuously
fought for, acquired by them after long periods of time and many labours, have been
dissipated in an instant by pride and self-conceit. But by the grace of our Saviour and
the fore-knowledge of the holy fathers and the sympathy of spiritual affection they have
been snatched from the nets of the devil and, helped by the prayers of the saints, have
recovered their former life of virtue. COPY OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY PALLADIUS THE BISHOP TO
LAUSUS THE CHAMBERLAIN. 8 [1] I congratulate you on your intention. Indeed I am justified
in beginning my letter with congratulation, because, when all men are gaping after vain
things and building their edifice with stones from which they got no joy, you yourself
want to be taught words of edification. For only the God of all is untaught, since He is
self-originate and has none other before Him. But all other things are taught, since they
are made and created. The first orders (of angels) have the supreme Trinity as teacher,
the second learn from the first, the third from the second, and so successively in order
until the last. For those who are superior in judgment and virtue teach those who are
inferior in knowledge. [2] So then men who think they do not need teachers, or do not obey
those who teach them in love, suffer from the disease of ignorance, the mother of
arrogance. Their leaders on the road to destruction are those who have fallen from the
heavenly life, the demons who fly in the air having fled from their teachers in heaven.
For teaching does not consist in words and syllables----sometimes men possess these who
are as vile as can be----but in meritorious acts of character, cheerfulness, intrepidity,
bravery, good temper; add to these unfailing boldness, which generates words like a flame
of fire. [3] For if this had not been so, the great Teacher would not have said to His
disciples: "Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.

9 He does not train the apostles with elegant language, but with care for character,
distressing none save those who hate the word and hate teachers. For the soul that is
being trained according to God's purpose must be either learning faithfully what it does
not know, or teaching clearly what it knows. But if it wants to do neither, though able to
do them, then it is mad. For to be sated with teaching and unable to bear the word, for
which the soul of him who loves God is always hungry, is the beginning of apostasy. Be
strong then and of sound mind and play the man, and may God grant you to pursue closely
the knowledge of Christ. 10 PROLOGUE 11 [1] Forasmuch as many have left behind for their
age many and divers writings concerning different epochs, some of them by an inspiration
of heavenly God-given grace (writing) for the edification and safety of those who follow
with loyal purpose the teachings of the Saviour, others with sycophantic and corrupt
intention having indulged in mad follies in order to encourage such as desire vain-glory,
others again, inspired by a certain madness and the influence of the demon who hates good,
and in their pride and wrath planning the destruction of light-minded men and the soiling
of the immaculate Catholic Church, having attacked the minds of the foolish to make them
dislike the saintly life, [2] it seemed good to me also, your humble servant, reverencing
the command of your magnanimity, O man most eager to learn, a command issued with a view
to spiritual progress, to publish this book in narrative form for your benefit, (telling
my story) from the beginning. (When I thus decided), it was, I suppose, my thirty-third
year in the society of the brethren and the twentieth year of my episcopate, and the
fifty-sixth of my whole life. You were asking for accounts of the fathers, both male and
female (saints), both those whom I had seen and those about whom I had heard and those
with whom I lived in the Egyptian desert and Libya, the Thebaid and Syene, near which last
are the so-called Tabennesiots, and again in Mesopotamia, Palestine and Syria, and the
districts of the West----Rome and Campania and thereabouts.

12 [3] (My aim is) that you may have (in my book) for the benefit of your soul a solemn
reminder, an unfailing cure for forgetfulness; and that you may drive away by its help all
drowsiness proceeding from irrational lust, all indecision and pettiness in business
affairs, all backwardness and pusillanimity in the domain of character, all resentment,
worry, grief and irrational fear; and moreover the excitements of the world; and may with
unfailing desire make progress in the purpose of piety, becoming a guide both to yourself,
your companions, your subordinates, and the most religious Emperors. For by means of these
meritorious works all lovers of Christ press on to be joined to God. Each day you will be
expecting the departure of your soul, as it is written: [4] "It is good to depart and be
with Christ," and "Prepare thy works for thy departure and be ready in thy field. For he
that keeps death always in mind, that it will come of necessity and will not tarry, shall
not greatly fall. You will neither take amiss the guidance of my directions, nor will you
despise the uncouthness and inelegance of my style; for indeed it is not the work of
divine teaching to speak with studied elegance, but to persuade the mind with
considerations of truth, as it is written: "Open thy mouth to the word of God," and again:
"Miss not the discourse of the aged, for they also learned of their fathers."

13 [5] I then, O man of God most eager to learn, following in part this precept, have been
in contact with many of the saints. Putting aside considerations of prudence, I have made
journeys of thirty days, yes and twice as long. (I say it) as before God, traversing on
foot in my journeys all the land of the Romans, I welcomed all the hardship of the way so
long as I might meet some man that loved God, that I might gain what I had not got. [6]
For if Paul, who was so far in advance of me, surpassing me in manner of life, knowledge,
conscience and faith, undertook the journey from Tarsus to Judaea to meet Peter, James and
John; and if he tells of it with a kind of boastfulness, recounting his toils in order to
stir to emulation those who live in sloth and laziness, saying: "I went up to Jerusalem to
visit Cephas; if he was not satisfied with the report of Peter's virtue, but longed for an
actual meeting face to face----how much more was I, the debtor who owed ten thousand
talents, bound to do this, not for any good I might do them, but for my own benefit? [7]
For indeed those who wrote the lives of the Fathers, Abraham and his successors, Moses,
Elijah and John, told their tale, not to glorify them, but to benefit their readers.

14 Knowing these things then, Lausus, most loyal servant of Christ, and impressing them on
yourself, be patient with my folly, (which is designed) to preserve the pious disposition
of your mind; for it is naturally exposed to waves of evil, both visible and invisible,
and can enjoy calm only with the help of continuous prayer and spiritual self-culture. [8]
For many of the brethren, pluming themselves both on their labours and charities and
boasting of their celibacy or virginity and putting their trust in meditation on the
divine oracles and acts of zeal, have yet failed to attain impassivity. Through lack of
discernment, under the pretext of piety, they have fallen victim to a disease (which
manifests itself) in acts of idle curiosity, from which spring officious or even evil
activities, such as drive away good activities, the mother of spiritual self-culture. 15
[9] Play the man then, I beseech you, and do not increase your wealth. This policy you
have already adopted, since of your own accord you have lessened it by distributing to
those- in need owing to the supply of virtue which is thereby gained. Nor have you yielded
to impulse and unreasonable premature decision and fettered your free choice with an oath
to curry favour with men, as some have done who in a spirit of rivalry, that they may
boast of not eating or drinking, have enslaved their free will by the constraint of an
oath and have succumbed again miserably to the love of this world and accidie and pleasure
and so have suffered the pangs of perjury. For if you partake reasonably and abstain
reasonably you will never sin. [10] For reason, of all the emotions within us, is divine,
banishing what is harmful and welcoming what is beneficial. "For the law is not made for a
righteous man. For to drink wine with reason is better than to drink water with pride.
And, please, look on those who drink wine with reason as holy men and those who drink
water without reason as profane men, and no longer blame or praise the material, but count
happy or wretched the minds of those who use the material well or ill. Joseph drank wine
in Egypt long ago, but his mind suffered no harm, for he kept his thoughts under control,
[11] But Pythagoras, Diogenes and Plato drank water;

16 so did the Manichaeans and the rest of the band of soi-disant philosophers, and yet
they reached such a pitch of vain-glory in their intemperance that they failed to know God
and worshipped idols. The apostle Peter and his companions used wine to some extent, so
that their Master, our Saviour, was himself reproached on account of their participation,
by the Jews' saying: "Why do not thy disciples fast as do the disciples of John? Again
insulting the disciples with reproaches they said: "Your Master eats and drinks with the
publicans and sinners. Clearly they would not have attacked them over bread and water.
[12] And again, when they were unreasonably admiring water-drinking and blaming wine-
drinking, the Saviour said: "John came in the way of righteousness, neither eating nor
drinking"----obviously meat and wine, for apart from the other things he could not have
lived----"and they say, He hath a devil. The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they
say, Behold a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber, and a friend of publicans and sinners"
----because of his eating and drinking. What are we to do then? Let us follow neither
those who blame nor those who praise, but let us either fast with John reasonably even if
they say: "They have a devil," or let us drink wine wisely with Jesus, if the body needs
it, even if they say: "Behold men gluttonous and wine-bibbers. [13] For in truth neither
is eating nor refraining anything, but faith extending itself in love to works.

17 For when faith accompanies every action, he that eateth and drinketh because of faith
is uncondemned, "for whatsoever is not of faith is sin. But when any one of those who sin
says he partakes in faith or is doing anything else with unreasonable self-confidence and
corrupted conscience, the Saviour has given express orders, saying: "By their fruits ye
shall know them. But that the fruit of those who live with reason and understanding, as
the divine Apostle says, "is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, meekness, temperance,"----this is granted by all. [14] For Paul himself
said: "The fruit of the spirit is" so-and-so. But because he who sets himself to get such
fruit will not eat meat or drink wine unreasonably or without definite aim or out of
season, nor will he dwell with an uneasy conscience, again the same Paul says: "Every man
that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. When the body is in health he
abstains from fattening things, when it is weak or in pain or meets with griefs or
misadventures, he will make use of foods or drinks as medicines to heal what grieves him,
and he will abstain from all that harms the soul----anger, envy, vain-glory, accidie,
detraction, and unreasonable suspicion----giving thanks to the Lord.

18 [15] Having then discussed the matter sufficiently above, I bring another exhortation
to your desire of learning. Flee, as far as is in your power, encounters with men whose
presence confers no benefit and who beautify their skin in unseemly fashion, even if they
be orthodox----not to speak of heretics! They do you harm by their hypocrisy, even when
they seem to be dragging out a great age with their grey hair and wrinkles. For, even
supposing you come to no harm at their hands by reason of your noble character, you will
suffer this lesser evil in becoming insolent and proud, and mocking at them, and this will
do you harm. But go near a bright window and seek encounters with holy men and women, in
order that by their help you may be able to see clearly also your own heart as it were a
closely-written book, being able by comparison to discern your own slackness or neglect.
[16] For the colour of their faces with the bloom of grey hairs and the arrangement of
their clothes and the modesty of their language and the reverence of their conversation
and the grace of their thoughts will strengthen you, even if you should happen to be in a
mood of accidie. "For a man's attire and his gait and the laugh of his teeth will proclaim
what he is like," as Wisdom says.

19 So now I begin my tales. I shall leave unnoticed neither those in the cities nor those
in the villages or deserts. For the object of our inquiry is not the place where they have
settled but the fashion of their plan of life.

CHAPTER I. -- ISIDORE

1 [1] THE first time that I set foot in the city of the Alexandrians, in the second
consulate of the great Emperor Theodosius, who now lives with the angels because of his
faith in Christ, I met in the city a wonderful man, distinguished in every respect, both
as regards character and knowledge, Isidore the priest, hospitaller of the Church of
Alexandria. He was said to have fought successfully his first youthful contests in the
desert, and I actually saw his cell in the mountain of Nitria. But when I met him, he was
an old man seventy years of age, who lived another fifteen years and then died in peace.
[2] Up to the very end of his life he wore no linen except a head-band, never had a bath,
nor partook of meat. His slender frame was so well-knit by grace that all who did not know
his manner of life expected that he lived in luxury. Time would fail me if I were to tell
in detail the virtues of his soul. He was so benevolent and peaceable that even his
enemies the unbelievers themselves reverenced his shadow because of his exceeding
kindliness. [3] So great a knowledge had he of the holy scriptures and the divine precepts
that even at the very meals of the brethren he would have periods of absent-mindedness and
remain silent. And being urged to tell the details of his ecstasy he would say: "I went
away in thought on a journey, seized by contemplation.

2 For my part I often knew him weep at table, and when I asked the cause of the tears I
heard him say: "I shrink from partaking of irrational food, being myself rational and
destined to live in a paradise of delight owing to the power given us by Christ. [4] He
became known to all the Senate at Rome and to the wives of the nobles, when he paid his
first visit in company with Athanasius the bishop, and on a second occasion with Demetrius
the bishop; a man of great wealth and extensive property, he wrote no will when he came to
die, and left neither money nor goods to his sisters, who were virgins. But he commended
them to Christ, saying: "He that created you will provide for your life, as He has done
for me. Now there was with his sisters a community of seventy virgins.

3 When I visited him as a young rnan and besought that I might be trained in the solitary
life, since I was in the full vigour of my age and needed, not discourse, but bodily
hardships, like a good tamer of colts he led me out from the city to the so-called
Solitudes five miles away (and handed me over to Dorotheus).

CHAPTER II. -- DOROTHEUS

1 [1] HANDING me over to Dorotheus, a Theban ascetic who was spending the sixtieth year in
his cave, he ordered me to complete three years with him in order to tame my passions----
for he knew that the old man lived a life of great austerity----bidding me return to him
afterwards for spiritual instruction. But being unable to complete the three years owing
to a breakdown in health, I left Dorotheus before the three years were up, for living with
him one got parched and all dried-up.For all day long in the burning heat he would collect
stones in the desert by the sea and build with them continually and make cells, and then
he would retire in favour of those who could not build for themselves. Each year he
completed one cell. And once when I said to him: "What do you mean, father, at your great
age by trying to kill your poor body in these heats? he answered thus: "It kills me, I
kill it. For he used to eat (daily) six ounces of bread and a bunch of herbs, and drink
water in proportion. God is my witness, I never knew him stretch his legs and go to sleep
on a rush mat, or on a bed. But he would sit up all night long and weave ropes of palm
leaves to provide himself with food.

2 [3] Then, supposing that he did this for my benefit, I made careful inquiries also from
other disciples of his, who lived by themselves, and ascertained that this had been his
manner of life from a youth, and that he had never deliberately gone to sleep, only when
working or eating he closed his eyes overcome by sleep, so that often the piece of food
fell from his mouth at the moment of eating, so great was his drowsiness. Once when I
tried to constrain him to rest a little on the mat, he was annoyed and said: "If you can
persuade angels to sleep, you will also persuade the zealous man. [4] One day about the
ninth hour he sent me to fill the jar at his well in view of a meal at the ninth hour.
Well, as it happened, I went and saw an asp at the bottom of the well, and stopped drawing
water and went away and said to him: "We are dead men, father, for I saw an asp in the
well. But he smiled gravely and looked at me for a time, and then shaking his head said:
"If the devil decides to become a serpent or tortoise in every well and to fall into our
water-supply, will you refrain from drinking for ever? And he went out and drew the water
himself, and was the first to swallow some of it, fasting, saying: "Where the cross
passes, the evil of anything is powerless."

CHAPTER III. -- POTAMIAENA

[1] THIS blessed man Isidore, who had met Antony of blessed memory, told me a story which
is worth recording, which he had heard from Antony. There lived in the time of Maximianus
the persecutor a very beautiful maiden called Potamiaena, a certain man's slave. Her
master failed to seduce her, though he besought her eagerly with many promises. [2] At
last mad with rage he handed her over to the then prefect of Alexandria, giving her up as
a Christian and one who abused the times and the Emperors because of the persecutions, and
suggesting this to him with the help of money: "If she falls in with my design, keep her
without punishment."' But if she should remain puritanical, he asked that she might be
punished, lest continuing to live she should mock at his licentious ways. [3] She was
brought before the tribunal and the fortress of her soul was attacked by various
instruments of torture. For one of them, the judge had a great cauldron filled with pitch
and ordered it to be heated. When the pitch was now bubbling and terribly hot, he gave her
the choice: "Either go away and obey the wishes of your master, or know that I shall order
you to be plunged into the cauldron." But she answered and said: "God forbid that there
should be another such judge, who orders one to submit to licentiousness." [4] So in a
fury he ordered her to be stripped and thrown into the cauldron; but she lifted up her
voice and said: "By the head of your Emperor whom you fear, if you have decided to punish
me thus, order me to be let down gradually into the cauldron that you may know what
endurance the Christ, Whom you know not, bestows on me." And being let down gradually
during a space of one hour she died when the pitch reached her neck.

CHAPTER IV. -- DIDYMUS THE BLIND

1 [1] VERY many indeed of the men and women who reached perfection in the Church of
Alexandria were worthy (to inherit) the land of the meek. Among these was Didymus the
blind author. I met him four times in all, visiting him at intervals during a period of
ten years. He was 85 years old when he died. He was blind, having lost his sight at the
age of four, so he told me, and he had never learned to read nor gone to school.[2] (This
was not necessary) for he had nature's teacher ----his own conscience----strongly
developed. He was adorned with such a gift of knowledge, that, so it was said, the passage
of scripture was fulfilled in him: "The Lord maketh the blind wise. For he interpreted the
Old and New Testament word by word, and such attention did he pay to doctrine, setting out
his exposition of it subtly yet surely, that he surpassed all the ancients in knowledge.
[3] Once when he tried to make me say a prayer in his cell and I was unwilling, he told me
this story: "Into this cell Antony entered for the third time on a visit to me. I besought
him to say a prayer and he instantly knelt down in the cell and did not make me repeat my
words, giving me by his action a lesson in obedience.

2 So if you want to follow in the steps of his life, as you seem to, since you are a
solitary and living away from home to acquire virtue, lay aside your contentiousness. And
he told me this also: "As I was thinking one day about the life of the wretched Emperor
Julian, how he was a persecutor, and was feeling dejected ----and by reason of my thoughts
I had not tasted bread even up to late evening----it happened that as I sat in my seat I
was overcome by sleep and I saw in a trance white horses running with riders and
proclaiming: 'Tell Didymus, to-day at the seventh hour Julian died. Rise then and eat,'
they said, 'and send to Athanasius the bishop, that he too may know,' And I marked," he
said, "the hour and month and week and day, and it was found to be so."

CHAPTER V. -- ALEXANDRA

[1] HE told me also of a maid-servant named Alexandra, who having left the city and shut
herself up in a tomb, received the necessaries of life through an opening, seeing neither
women nor men face to face for ten years. And in the tenth year she fell asleep, having
arrayed herself (for death): and so the woman who went as usual to see her and got no
answer informed us.So we broke down the door and entering in found her fallen asleep. [2]
Concerning her also the thrice-blessed Melania, about whom I shall speak later, used to
say: "I never saw her face to face, but standing by the opening I urged her to say the
reason why she shut herself up in a tomb. And she called out to me through the opening: 'A
man was distressed in mind because of me and, lest I should seem to afflict or disparage
him, I chose to betake myself alive into the tomb rather than cause a soul made in the
image of God to stumble.' [3] When I said," she continued, "'How then do you endure never
meeting any one, but struggling with accidie?' she replied: 'From early morn to the ninth
hour I pray hour by hour, spinning flax the while. During the remaining hours I meditate
on the holy patriarchs and prophets and apostles and martyrs. And having eaten my bread I
remain in patience for the other hours, waiting for my end with cheerful hope.' "

CHAPTER VI. -- THE RICH VIRGIN

1 [1] BUT I must not omit from my story those also whose life has been characterized by
pride, that I may praise those who have remained true and ensure the safety of my readers.
There was a virgin at Alexandria of humble exterior but haughty inward disposition,
exceedingly wealthy, but never giving an obol either to a stranger or a virgin or a church
or a poor man. In spite of the frequent exhortations of the fathers she was not weaning
herself from material things. [2] Now she had relations living, one of whom, her sister's
daughter, she adopted, and night and day she kept promising the girl should have her
money, having fallen away from her aspirations after heaven. For this is a form of the
deceit of the devil, who afflicts us with pangs of avarice under the pretext of family
affection. For it is common knowledge that he cares nothing about family ties, since he
teaches men to murder brothers and mothers and fathers. [3] But even if he seems to
inspire anxiety for relations, he does not do so from benevolent feelings towards them,
but to practise the soul in unrighteousness, knowing the decree: "The unrighteous shall
not inherit the kingdom of God. Now it is quite possible for a man without neglecting his
own soul to be influenced by a godly consideration and give assistance to his kinsfolk if
they are in want.

2 But when a man subordinates his whole soul to the interests of his relations, he comes
under this law, reckoning his soul "unto vanity. [4] But the sacred psalmist sings thus
concerning those who care for their soul with fear: "Who shall ascend into the hill of the
Lord? "----meaning (it is) rarely (any one does) ---- "or who shall stand up in his holy
place? He that has clean hands and is pure in heart, who did not lift up his soul unto
vanity. For as many as neglect the virtues, these lift up the soul unto vanity, believing
that it is dissolved with the body. 3 [5] Wishing to bleed this virgin, so the story goes,
and thus relieve her of her avarice, the most holy Macarius, the priest and superintendent
of the hospital for cripples, devises this expedient. In his youth he had been a worker in
precious stones ---- what they call a lapidary. So he goes and says to her: "Some precious
stones, emeralds and sapphires, have fallen by fate into my hands, and I cannot say
whether they are treasure-trove or stolen property. They have not been valued, since they
are beyond price, but any one who has the money can buy them for five hundred pounds. [6]
If you decide to take them, you can get back your five hundred pounds from one stone and
use the rest for the adornment of your niece. Excited (by his words) the virgin is caught
by the bait and falls at his feet. "By your feet," she says, "let no one else get them.
Then he invites her: "Come to my house and look at them. But she had not the patience (for
this), but flings down the five hundred pounds before him, saying: "You want them, take
them. For I do not want to see the man who sells them. [7] But he takes the five hundred
pounds and gives them for the needs of the hospital.

4 Time sped along and she was shy of reminding him (of the matter), for Macarius clearly
had a great reputation in Alexandria, being a lover of God and charitable----he remained
vigorous until he was a hundred, and we too passed some time with him. Finally, having
found him in the church, she says to him: "I beg you, what decision have you come to about
those stones for which I gave the five hundred pounds? [8] But he answered thus: "The
moment you gave me the money, I deposited it for the price of the stones. And if you would
like to come and see them in the hospital----for there they are----come and look if they
please you. If not, take back your money. So she came, very willingly. Now the hospital
had women on the first floor and men on the ground floor. And having taken her there he
brings her into the porch and says to her: "Which do you want to see first, the sapphires
or the emeralds? She says to him: "As you please. [9] He takes her to the upper floor and
shows her the women disabled in hand or feet with their disfigured faces and says to her:
"Behold your sapphires! Then he takes her down again and says to her, showing her the men:
"Behold your emeralds! Do they please you? If not, take back your money.

5 So she turned and went out, and returning home fell ill from excess of grief, because
she had not done this thing in a godly fashion. 'Afterwards she thanked the priest, when
the maid for whom she was planning died childless after marriage.

CHAPTER VII. -- THE MONKS OF NITRIA

1 [1] So then, after my visit to the monasteries round Alexandria with their 2000 or so
most noble and zealous members and my three years sojourn there, I left them and went to
the mountain of Nitria. Between this mountain and Alexandria lies the lake called
Mariaseventy miles in extent. Having sailed across this I came to the mountain on its
south side in a day and a half. [2] Next to this mountain lies the great desert which
stretches as far as Ethiopia and the Mazicae and Mauretania. On the mountain live some
5000 men with different modes of life, each living in accordance with his own powers and
wishes, so that it is allowed to live alone, or with another, or with a number of others.
There are seven bakeries in the mountain, which serve the needs both of these men and also
of the anchorites of the great desert, 600 in all. [3] So, having dwelt on the mountain
for a year and having received much benefit from the blessed fathers Arsisius the Great
and Poutoubastes and Asion and Cronius and Sarapion,and having been spurred on by hearing
their many tales about the fathers, I penetrated into the innermost desert. In this
mountain of Nitria there is a great church, by which stand three palm-trees, each with a
whip suspended from it. One is intended for the solitaries who transgress, one for robbers
if any pass that way, and one for chance comers;

2 so that all who transgress and are judged worthy of blows are tied to the palm-tree and
receive on the back the appointed (number of stripes) and are then released. [4] Next to
the church is a guest-house, where they receive the stranger who has arrived, until he
goes away of his own accord, without limit of time, even if he remains two or three years.
Having allowed him to spend one week in idleness, the rest of his stay they occupy with
work either in the garden, or bakery, or kitchen. If he should be an important person,
they give him a book, not allowing him to talk to any one before the hour. In this
mountain there also live doctors and confectioners. And they use wine and wine is on sale.
[5] All these men work with their hands at linen-manufacture, so that all are self-
supporting. And indeed at the ninth hour it is possible to stand and hear how the strains
of psalmody rise from each habitation so that one believes that one is high above the
world in Paradise. They occupy the church only on Saturday and Sunday. There are eight
priests who serve the church, in which, so long as the senior priest lives, no one else
celebrates, or preaches, or gives decisions, but they all just sit quietly by his side.

3 [6] This Arsisius and many other old men with him whom we saw were contemporaries of the
blessed Antony. Some among them, they told me, had also known Amoun of Nitria, whose soul
Antony saw being taken up and conducted to heaven by angels. Arsisius used to say that he
also knew Pachomius of Tabennisi, a prophet and archimandrite over 3000 men, of whom I
shall speak later.

CHAPTER VIII. -- AMOUN OF NITRIA

1 [1] (ARSISIUS) used to say that Amoun lived in this wise. When he was a young man of
about twenty-two he was constrained by his uncle to marry a wife----he (himself) was an
orphan. Being unable to resist the pressure of his uncle, he thought it best to be crowned
and take his seat in the nuptial chamber and undergo all the marriage rites. When all (the
guests) were gone out, after settling the pair to sleep on the couch in the bridal
chamber, Amoun gets up and locks the door, then he sits down and calls his blessed
companion to him and says to her: [2] "Come here, lady, and then I will explain the matter
to you. The marriage which we have contracted has no special virtue. Let us then do well
by sleeping in future each of us separately, that we may please God by keeping our
virginity intact. And drawing from his bosom a little book, he read to the girl, who could
not read at all, in the words of the apostle and the Saviour, and to most of what he read
he added all that was in his mind and explained the principles of virginity and chastity;
so that convinced by the grace of God she said: [3] "I too am convinced, my lord. And what
further commands have you now? "I command," he said, "that each of us lives alone in
future. But she could not endure this, saying: "Let us dwell in the same house, but in
different beds.

2 So he lived in the same house with her eighteen years. During each day he occupied
himself with his garden and balsam-grove----for he prepared balsam. Balsam grows like a
vine, requiring cultivation and pruning and much hard work. Then in the evening he would
enter the house and offer prayers and eat with his wife; and then having said the night
prayers would go out. [4] Such was their practice, and both having attained impassivity,
the prayers of Amoun prevailed, and she says to him at last: "I have something to say to
you, my lord; that, if you hearken to me, I may be convinced that you love me in a godly
way. He says to her: "Say what you wish. She says to him: "It is just that we should live
apart----you being a man and practising righteousness, and I also eagerly following the
same way as you. For it is absurd that you should live with me in chastity and yet conceal
such virtue as this of yours. [5] But he, thanking God, says to her: "Then you keep this
house; but I will make myself another house. And he went out and settled in the inner part
of the mount of Nitria----for there were no monasteries there yet----and he made himself
two round cells. And having lived twenty-two years more in the desert he died, or rather
fell asleep. He used to see that blessed lady his wife twice each year.

3 The blessed Athanasius the bishop in his life of Antony told a marvellous story about
this man, how that he came to the bank of the river Lycus with his disciple Theodoras, and
shrinking from removing his clothes lest he should see him naked, he was found on the
other side, having been carried across by angels without using the ferry. Such then was
the life of the blessed Amoun and such his perfection that the blessed Antony saw his soul
carried to heaven by angels. I crossed this river once in a ferry, but with fear; for it
is a canal leading from the great Nile.

CHAPTER IX. -- OR

[1] IN this mountain of Nitria there was an ascetic named Or, to whose great virtue the
whole brotherhood bore witness, and especially Melania, that woman of God, who came to the
mountain before me. For my part, I never saw him alive. And they used to say this of him
in their stories, that he never lied, nor swore, nor abused any one, nor spoke without
necessity.

CHAPTER X. -- PAMBO

1 [1] To this mountain also belonged the blessed Pambo, teacher of Dioscorus the bishop
and Ammonius and Eusebius and Euthymius, "the (Tall) Brethren," also of Origen the nephew
of Dracontius, a wonderful man. This Pambo possessed heroic virtues and great qualities,
one of which was this: he was very suspicious of gold and silver, as Scripture demands.
[2] For the blessed Melania told me this story: "In early days, when I came to Alexandria
from Rome, I heard of his virtue and----the blessed Isidore having told me of him and
having conducted me to him in the desert----I brought him a casket of silver containing
silver to the weight of three hundred pounds and besought him to take a part of my goods.
But he sitting still and weaving palm-leaves merely blessed me in a sentence and said:
'May God give you your reward.' [3] And he said to his steward Origen: 'Take it and
distribute it to all the brethren who live in Libya and the islands, for these monasteries
are poorer (than the rest)'; instructing him to give to none of those in Egypt, because
their country was more fertile. But I," she said, "remained standing, expecting to be
honoured or glorified by him because of my gift, but hearing nothing from him I said to
him: 'That you may know, Sir, how much there is, it amounts to three hundred pounds.' [4]
But he without even raising his head answered me: 'The One to Whom you brought them, my
child, has no need of weights.

2 For He Who weighs the mountains, much more does He know the weight of the silver. If you
had given it to me, you would have done well to tell me; but if it was to God, Who did not
scorn the two obols, then be silent.' So," said she, "did the Lord manifest His power when
I came to the mountain. [5] After a little while the man of God fell asleep, not from an
attack of fever, nor from any illness, but while he was stitching up a basket, at the age
of seventy. He had sent for me and----the last stitch being ready to be completed----he
said to me when about to die: 'Receive the basket at my hands to remember me by, for I
have nothing else to leave you.'" Having prepared the body for burial and wrapped it in
linen cloths she buried him, and then returned from the desert, keeping the basket with
her till her death.

3 [6] This Pambo on his death-bed, at the very moment of his passing, is reported to have
said this to the bystanders, Origen the priest and steward and Ammonius----famous men,
both of them----and the rest of the brethren: "From the day that I came to this place in
the desert and built my cell and inhabited it, I cannot remember having eaten 'bread for
nought,' not earned by my hands. I have not had to repent of any word that I have spoken
up to the present hour. And so I go to God, as one who has not even begun to be pious."
[7] Prominent men, Origen and Ammonius, testified further to us, saying: "When he was
asked about a word of Scripture or other practical matter never did he answer at once, but
would say: 'I have not yet found (the answer).' Often he went three months even and gave
no answer, saying he had not put his hand on it. Accordingly men received his answers as
come from God, so carefully were they framed, as God would approve them. For this one
virtue he was said to possess even above the great Antony and above all others, namely
exactness of language."

4 [8] The following incident is told of Pambo. Pior the ascetic came to see him, bringing
his own bread, and being accused by Pambo, "Why have you done this?" answered: "Lest I
should burden you." Pambo gave him a silent lesson expressly. For after a while he went to
see Pior and took with him his bread, having first moistened it, and when asked why he
said: "I moistened it as well, lest I should burden you."

CHAPTER XI. -- AMMONIUS

1 [1] THIS Ammonius, Pambo's disciple, with his three brothers and two sisters, having
reached the perfection of the love of God, made their home in the desert, the women living
separately by themselves, and the men by themselves, so as to have a sufficient distance
between them. But since Ammonius was exceedingly learned and a certain city coveted him
for its bishop, a deputation waited on the blessed Timothy, beseeching him to ordain him
as their bishop. [2] And he said to them: "Bring him to me and I will ordain him." When
therefore they had gone with a force and he saw that he was caught, he besought them and
swore that he would not accept ordination, nor depart from the desert. And they would not
give way to him. So before their eyes he took scissors and cut off his left ear to the
base, saying to them: "Well, be convinced now that it is impossible for me to be ordained,
since the law forbids a man with ear cut off to be raised to the priesthood." [3] So then
they left him and departed and went and told the bishop. And he said to them: "Let the
Jews observe this law. For my part, if you bring a man with his nose cut off worthy in
character, I'll ordain him." So they went off again and implored Ammonius. And he swore to
them: "If you use force to me, I'll cut off my tongue." So then they left him and went
their way.

2 [4] About this Ammonius the following marvellous story was told. When desire arose in
him, he never spared his poor body, but heating an iron in the fire he would apply it to
his members, so that he became a mass of ulcers. Now his table from youth until death
contained raw food only. For he never ate anything that had passed through the fire except
bread. Having learned by heart the Old and New Testaments and (passages) in the writings
of the famous authors Origen, Didymus, Pierius and Stephen, he could repeat 6,000,000
(lines), as the fathers of the desert testify. [5] He was a comforter to the brethren in
the desert beyond all others. To him the blessed Evagrius, an inspired and discerning man,
gave testimony, saying: "never have I seen a man of more impassivity than he." [Having
been obliged on one occasion to visit Constantinople . . . after a little while he fell
asleep and was buried in the martyr's chapel called Rufinianae. His tomb is said to cure
all sufferers from shivering fever.]

CHAPTER XII. -- BENJAMIN

[1] IN this mountain of Nitria there was a man called Benjamin who at the age of eighty
years having reached the perfection of asceticism was counted worthy of the gift of
healing, so that every one on whom he laid his hands or to whom he gave oil after blessing
it was cured of every ailment. Now this man who was accounted worthy of such a gift, eight
months before his death developed dropsy, and his body swelled so greatly that he seemed a
second Job. So Dioscorus the Bishop, at that time a priest of Mount Nitria, took us----the
blessed Evagrius, that is, and me----and said to us: [2] "Come, see a new Job, who with so
great swelling of body and incurable suffering yet maintains "an unbounded thankfulness."
So we went and saw his body so greatly swollen that another man's fingers could not get
round one finger of his hand. We turned our eyes away, being unable to look owing to the
terrible nature of the affliction. Then that blessed Benjamin said to us: "Pray, children,
that my inner man may not become dropsical. For my outer man neither benefited me when it
was well, nor harmed me when it was ill." [3] During these eight months a seat was
arranged for him, very wide, in which he sat continually, being no longer able to lie down
owing to the other requirements of his body. But while he was in this state of affliction
he healed others. I have felt bound to describe this affliction, lest we should be
surprised when some untoward fate befalls righteous men. When he died, the lintels and
door-posts were removed, that his body might be carried out of the house, so great was the
swelling.

CHAPTER XIII. -- APOLLONIUS

[1] A MAN named Apollonius, a merchant, who had renounced the world and come to live on
Mount Nitria, being unable owing to advanced years either to learn a craft or work as a
scribe, had this occupation during his twenty years' life on the mountain. From his
private money and from (the produce of) his own labours he bought in Alexandria all kinds
of drugs and things needed for the cells, and provided all the brotherhood with them in
their illnesses. [2] And one might see him from early morn until the ninth hour going the
round of the monasteries and entering in at each door in case there should be any one ill
in bed, taking with him dried grapes, pomegranates, eggs, and bread made of fine flour,
the things which such people need. This plan he had devised for a profitable life in his
old age. When he died he left his stores to one like-minded with himself, exhorting him to
carry on this ministration. For with 5000 monks inhabiting the mountain there was need of
this visiting, since the place was desert.

CHAPTER XIV. -- PAESIUS AND ISAIAS

1 [1] THERE were two brothers called Paesius and Isaias, sons of a Spanish merchant. On
their father's death they divided the real property which they got, also the personal
property consisting of 5000 pieces of money and clothes and slaves. They considered with
each other and took counsel together saying: "What mode of life shall we adopt, brother?
If we adopt the merchant career which our father followed, then we shall have to die and
leave our labours to others. [2] Perhaps we may even succumb to dangers from robbers or on
the sea. Come, then, let us embrace the monastic life, that we may make a profitable use
of our father's riches and not lose our own souls." So the ideal of the monastic life
pleased them. But they found themselves at variance, differing from each other in their
views. For having divided the property, they applied themselves each to his purpose of
pleasing God, but by different tactics. [3] For the one bestowed everything on the
monasteries and churches and prisons, and having learned a trade by which to earn his
bread applied himself to asceticism and prayer. But the other parted with nothing, but
making himself a monastery and getting together a few brethren welcomed every stranger,
every invalid, every old man, every poor man, preparing three or four tables every Sunday
and Saturday. In this way he spent his money.

2 [4] When the two were dead, various eulogies were pronounced over them, as if both had
reached perfection. And some preferred Paesius, others Isaias. But a contention having
arisen in the brotherhood over their praises, they went to the blessed Pambo and referred
the decision to him, imploring that they might learn which was the better method. But he
said to them: "Both are perfect; for one showed the works of an Abraham, the other those
of an Elijah." [5] And when one party said: "By your feet (we ask), how can they possibly
be equal?" and preferred the ascetic and said: "He performed an Evangelical work selling
all and giving to the poor, and every hour both by day and night bearing the cross and
following the Saviour and his prayers." But the other side contended with them and said:
"Our man showed such great mercy to the needy that he even sat in the roads and collected
the afflicted. And not only did he refresh his own soul but the souls of many others,
treating their diseases and helping them." [6] Then blessed Pambo said to them: "Once
again I tell you, they are both equal. I assure each of you that the one, unless he had
been so great an ascetic, was not worthy to be compared with the benevolence of the other,
while the second again, refreshing the stranger, was himself refreshed, and though he
seemed to carry the burden of toil, yet had the refreshing that follows it. But wait until
I receive a revelation from God, and after that come and you shall learn." So they came
again a few days after and he said to them: "I saw both standing in Paradise, as it were
in the presence of God."

CHAPTER XV. -- MACARIUS THE YOUNGER

[1] A YOUTH named Macarius, when he was about eighteen years old, as he played with his
comrades by the lake called Maria, being in charge of animals, unwittingly committed a
murder. And saying nothing about it to any one he took to the desert and became so afraid
both of God and man that he lost all feeling and remained three years in the desert
without a roof to his head. The land in these parts is rainless, and all men know this,
some from hearsay, others from personal experience. [2] This man afterwards built himself
a cell. And having lived a further twenty-five years in that cell he was counted worthy of
the gift of blowing away demons; all his pleasure he found in solitude. Having spent a
long while with him, I inquired how he felt on the subject of his sin of murder. He
declared that so far from grieving he actually gave thanks for the murder, since the
murder unwittingly committed proved the occasion of his salvation. [3] And, bringing
testimony from the Scriptures, he used to say that Moses would not have been accounted
worthy of the divine vision and so great a gift and the writing of the holy words, unless
he had fled to Mount Sinai in fear of Pharaoh owing to the murder which he had committed
in Egypt. I say this, not to lead any one to commit murder, but to show that there are
virtues due to circumstances, when a man does not come to the good of his own accord. For
some virtues are chosen voluntarily, others are due to circumstances.

CHAPTER XVI. -- NATHANAEL

1 [1] THERE was another of the old (monks) called Nathanael. I did not visit him during
his lifetime, since he had fallen asleep fifteen years before my arrival. But when I met
the men who lived with him and shared his life of asceticism, I made a point of inquiring
about the virtues of this man. They showed me his cell, wherein no one dwelt any longer
because it was too near the world; he had made it when the anchorites were few in number.
They told this story about him as specially characteristic, that he stopped in his cell so
perseveringly as not to be shaken from his purpose. [2] Among other things, having been
mocked at the outset by the demon who mocks all men and deceives them, he seemed to feel a
distaste for his first cell and went off and built another nearer a village. So when he
had completed the cell and occupied it, three or four months after the demon came by
night, holding a whip of ox-hide like the executioners, and having the appearance of a
ragged soldier, and began cracking his whip. Then the blessed Nathanael answered and said:
"Who are you who do such things in my dwelling? The demon answered: "I am he who drove you
from that cell. I have come to chase you out of this too.

2 [3] Knowing that he was the victim of an illusion, he returned again to the first cell,
and in a period of thirty-seven years in all did not cross the threshold, having a quarrel
with the demon; who showed him such wonders, trying to force him out, as it is impossible
to relate. This is one of them. Having watched for a visit from seven holy bishops----
either arranged by God's providence or being one of his own temptations----the demon very
nearly turned him from his purpose. For when the bishops went out after prayer, he did not
escort them even one step. [4] The deacons said to him: "This is an act of pride, Father,
not escorting the bishops. But he said to them: "I am dead both to my lords the bishops
and to all the world. For I have a hidden design and God knows my heart. Wherefore I do
not escort them. Having failed in this affair, the demon disguised himself nine months
before Nathanael's death and became a lad about ten years old, driving an ass laden with
loaves in a basket. And having arrived late in the evening near his cell he made it seem
that the ass was fallen and the boy crying: [5] "Father Nathanael, pity me and give me a
hand. Hearing the voice of the supposed boy and opening the door, he stood within and said
to him: "Who are you and what do you want me to do for you? He said:

3 "I am so-and-so's little servant and I am carrying loaves, for it is this brother's
agape, and to-morrow when Saturday dawns offerings will be wanted. I beseech you, do not
neglect me, lest perchance I be eaten by hyaenas. For many hyaenas are found in those
places. So blessed Nathanael stood in silence with his brain in a whirl and his heart sore
troubled and argued thus with himself: "Either I must give up the commandment, or my
purpose. Afterwards, however, considering that it was better for the confusion of the
devil not to disturb the purpose of so many years, he prayed and said to the supposed boy
that spoke to him: "Listen, boy! I believe in the God Whom I serve, that if you are in
need God will send you help and neither will hyaenas harm you nor any one else. But if you
are a temptation, God will reveal the matter now. And he shut the door and went in. But
the demon, put to confusion at the defeat, dissolved into a dust-storm and into wild-asses
jumping and fleeing and emitting yells. This was the conflict of the blessed Nathanael,
this his manner of life, this his end.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK)
===========================

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK) continued

CHAPTER XVII. -- MACARIUS OF EGYPT

1 [1] I HESITATE either to speak or write the many great and incredible events that
happened in connection with those famous men, the two Macarii, lest I should incur the
suspicion of being a liar; indeed the Holy Spirit has declared that "the Lord destroys all
them that speak falsehood." So do not disbelieve me, most believing one, for I am not
lying. Of these Macarii the one was an Egyptian by race, the other an Alexandrian, a
seller of sweetmeats. [2] First of all I will tell of the Egyptian, who lived a full
ninety years. Of these he spent sixty in the desert, having retired there as a young man
of thirty. And he was counted worthy to possess such great discernment that he was called
the "aged youth." Because of this also he made the quicker progress. For when he was forty
years old he received grace to contend against the evil spirits both by healing and
forecasting the future. Also he was counted worthy of the priesthood.

2 [3] He had two disciples with him in the inner desert called Scete. There was always one
of them at his service near at hand because of those that came to be healed, while the
other rested in an adjoining cell. After some time had elapsed, having seen into the
future with prophetic eye, he said to the man who waited on him, named John, who
afterwards became a priest in the place of Macarius himself: "Listen to me, brother John,
and bear with my warning; for you are being tempted and the spirit of covetousness is
tempting you. [4] I have seen this, and I know that if you will bear with me you will be
perfected in this place and glorified, 'neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling';
but if you will not listen to me, the end of Gehazi shall come upon you, of whose illness
you are even now sick." Now it came to pass when fifteen or twenty years had elapsed after
the death of Macarius that he disobeyed, and accordingly after robbing the poor fund
contracted elephantiasis, so that there was not found on his body a whole part, on which
one could put his finger. So this is what the holy Macarius prophesied. [5] Now concerning
eating and drinking it is superfluous to relate, seeing that not even among the indolent
is it possible to find gluttony or carelessness in these regions, owing both to the
scarcity of necessaries and the zeal of the inhabitants. But concerning the rest of his
asceticism I do speak, for he was said to be in a continual ecstasy and to spend a far
longer time with God than with things sublunary. The following marvels are told of him.

3 [6] A certain Egyptian, enamoured of a lady married to a husband, and being unable to
seduce her, consulted a magician, saying: "Lead her to love me, or contrive that her
husband reject her. And the magician having received a sufficient sum, used magic spells
and arranged for her to take the form of a mare. The husband having come in and seen her
was surprised that a mare lay on his bed. He weeps and laments; he talks to the animal,
but gets no reply. He calls in the priests of the village. [7] He brings them in, shows
her to them, but does not discover what has happened. During three days she neither took
fodder as a mare nor bread as a human being, thus deprived of both forms of nourishment.
Finally, that God might be glorified and the virtue of the holy Macarius appear, it
entered into her husband's heart to take her into the desert. And having put a halter on
her as upon a horse, he led her into the desert. When they came near, the brethren stood
by the cell of Macarius, struggling with the woman's husband and saying: [8] "Why did you
bring this mare here? He said to them: "That she may receive mercy. They said to him:
"What is the matter? The husband answered them: "She was my wife and was turned into a
mare, and to-day is the third day that she has tasted nothing. They referred the matter to
the saint, who was praying within.

4 For God had revealed the matter to him and he was praying for her. The holy Macarius
therefore answered the brethren and said to them: "You are horses, since you have the eyes
of horses. [9] For she is a woman and has not been transformed, except in the eyes of
deluded men. And he blessed water, and pouring it from the head downwards on to her bare
skin he prayed. And immediately he made her appear to all as a woman. Then giving her food
he made her eat and sent her away with her husband thanking the Lord. And he advised her
thus: "Never give up the church, never stay away from the Communion. For these things
happened to you because you did not attend the mysteries for five weeks." 5 [10] Here is
another example of his asceticism. He made in the course of time a tunnel running under
the ground from his cell for half a stade and finished it off at the end with a cave. And
if ever a crowd of people troubled him, he would leave his cell secretly and go away to
the cave and no one would find him. Now one of his zealous disciples told us this, and
said that he used to say twenty-four prayers on his way to the cave and twenty-four as he
returned. [11] A report was prevalent concerning him that he raised a dead man, in order
to persuade a heretic who did not acknowledge that there was a bodily resurrection. And
this report was current in the desert.

6 Once a young man possessed with a devil was brought to him by his lamenting mother,
bound to two young men. And the devil had this method of working. After eating three
bushels of bread and drinking a beaker of water, he would belch out the food and dissolve
it into vapour, for in this way what had been eaten and drunk was dissolved as it were by
fire. [12] For there is a class (of demons) called fiery. Since there are differences
among demons, as also among men, not of nature but of character. This young man then, not
receiving enough food from his mother, often ate his own dirt and drank his own water. As
then his mother wept and implored the saint, he took the lad and prayed over him
beseeching God. And after a day or two, the malady having eased a little, the holy
Macarius said to her: [13] "How much do you want him to eat?" She replied: "Ten pounds of
bread." So having rebuked her, saying this was too much, and having prayed over him with
fasting for seven days, he put him on to (a regime) of three pounds, with obligation to
work. And so having cured him he restored him to his mother. And this wonder God wrought
through Macarius. I never met him, for he had fallen asleep a year before my entry into
the desert.

CHAPTER XVIII. -- MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA

1 [1] BUT I did meet the other Macarius, the Alexandrian, a priest of the place called
Cellia. I sojourned in this Cellia nine years. He survived for three years of my stay
there. And some things I saw (for myself), some I heard from him, and some things again I
heard from others. This then was the method of his asceticism. If ever he heard of any
feat, he did the same thing, perfectly. For instance, having heard from some that the
monks of Tabennisi all through Lent eat (only) food that has not been near the fire, he
decided for seven years to eat nothing that had been through the fire, and except for raw
vegetables, if any such were found, and moistened pulse he tasted nothing. [2] Having
practised this virtue to perfection, he heard about another man, that he ate a pound of
bread. And having broken up his ration-biscuit and put it into a vessel with a narrow
mouth, he decided to eat just as much as his hand brought out. And he would tell the story
thus in a joking manner: "I seized hold of a number of pieces, but I could not extract
them all at once by reason of the narrowness of the opening, for like a tax-gatherer it
would not let me." So for three years he kept up this practice of asceticism, eating four
or five ounces of bread and drinking as much water, and a pint of oil in the year.

2 [3] Here is another practice of his. He determined to dispense with sleep, and he told
us how he did not go under a roof for twenty days, that he might conquer sleep, being
burnt up by the sun's heat and shrivelled up with cold by night. And he used to say this:
"Unless I had soon gone under a roof and got some sleep, my brain would have so dried up
as to drive me into delirium for ever alter. And I conquered so far as depended on me, but
I gave way so far as depended on my nature that had need of sleep." [4] As he sat early in
the morning in his cell, a mosquito settled on his foot and stung him. And feeling the
pain he squashed it with his hand after it was full of blood. So, accusing himself for
having taken vengeance, he condemned himself to sit naked for six months in the marsh of
Scete, which is in the great desert. The mosquitos there are like wasps, and even pierce
the hides of wild boars. So then he was bitten all over and developed so many swellings
that some thought he had elephantiasis. Returning to his cell after six months, he was
recognized by his voice that it was Macarius himself.

3 [5] Once he desired to enter the garden-tomb of Jannes and Jambres, so he told us. But
this garden-tomb had once belonged to the magicians who had great power long ago with
Pharaoh. Forasmuch then as they had the power for long periods, they built their work with
stones faced four-square, and made their tomb there, and stored away much gold. They also
planted trees, for the place is rather damp, and they dug a well besides. [6] Since
therefore the saint did not know the way, he followed the stars by a kind of guesswork,
crossing the desert, as one does at sea. Taking a bundle of reeds he planted them one each
mile as landmarks in order to find his way as he returned. So having travelled nearly nine
days he approached the place. Then the demon, who always withstands the athletes of
Christ, collected all the reeds and put them at his head as he slept about a mile from the
garden-tomb. [7] So he arose and found the reeds, God having allowed this perhaps to try
him further, that he might not trust in reeds, but in the pillar of cloud that led Israel
forty years in the desert. He used to say: "Seventy demons came out from the garden-tomb
to meet me, shouting and fluttering like crows against my face and saying: 'What do you
want, Macarius? What do you want, monk? Why have you come to our place?

4 You can't stay here.' I told them," he said, "'Let me just go in and look round and go
away.' [8] So," he said, "I went in and found a little brazen jar suspended and an iron
chain against the well, rusted already by time, and some pomegranates with nothing inside
because they had been dried up by the sun. So then he turned back and went on his way for
twenty days. But when the water which he was carrying failed him and also the loaves, he
was in great distress. And when he was nearly collapsing there appeared to him a maiden,
so he declared, wearing a pure white robe and holding a cruse dripping with water. [9] He
said she was some distance, about a stade, away from him, and he went on for three days,
gazing at her as she stood with the vessel and being unable to catch her up, as happens in
dreams; but he lasted out sustained by the hope of drinking. After her appeared a herd of
antelopes, one of which with a calf stopped----there are many in those regions. And he
said that her udder was flowing with milk. So, creeping under her and sucking, he was
satisfied. And the antelope went as far as his cell, giving him milk, but not allowing her
own calf to suck.

5 [10] On another occasion, while digging a well near to some vegetable shoots, he was
bitten by an asp. Now this beast is able to cause death. And having taken it with both
hands he seized it by the jaws and pulled it in pieces, saying to it: "When God did not
send you, how did you dare to come?" Now he had several cells in the desert: one in Scete,
the great interior desert, and one in the Libyan desert, and one at the so-called Cellia,
and one on Mount Nitria. Some of these are without windows, and in these he was said to
sit during Lent in darkness. Another was too narrow for him to stretch out his feet in it.
Another, in which he met his visitors, was more spacious. [11] He healed so great a crowd
of demoniacs that they cannot be counted. When we were there a highborn maiden was brought
from Thessalonica, paralyzed for many years. He rubbed her for twenty days with holy oil
with his own hands, praying the while, and sent her back to her city restored to health.
After she had gone she sent him many generous gifts.

6 [12] Having heard that the monks of Tabennisi had a splendid rule of life, he changed
his clothes and put on the secular garments of a workman, and went a fifteen days' journey
to the Thebaid, travelling through the desert. And having come to the monastery of the
Tabennesiots he asked for their archimandrite, Pachomius by name, a man of great
reputation and possessing the gift of prophecy----though the story of Macarius had not
been revealed to him. So meeting him he said: "I pray you, receive me into your monastery
that I may become a monk. [13] Pachomius said to him: "You have already reached old age,
and you cannot be an ascetic. The brethren are ascetics and you cannot endure their
labours. You will be offended and will depart, cursing them. And he did not receive him
either the first day or the second, till seven days had passed. But he persisted in
waiting, fasting (all the time), and at last he said to him: "Receive me, father, and if I
do not fast as they do and work, order me to be driven out. He persuaded the brethren to
admit him; now the total number (of the occupants) of the first monastery was 1,400 men
and remains so up to this day. [14] Well, he entered. When a little time had passed, Lent
came on and he saw each man practising different ways of asceticism----one eating in the
evening only, another every two days, another every five, another again standing all night
but sitting down by day.

7 So having moistened palm-leaves in large numbers, he stood in a corner and until the
forty days were completed and Easter had come, ate no bread and drank no water, neither
knelt down nor reclined, and apart from a few cabbage leaves took nothing, and them only
on Sunday, that he might appear to eat. [15] And if ever he went out in obedience to
nature, he quickly came in again and took his stand, speaking to no one and not opening
his mouth but standing in silence. And, apart from prayer in his heart and the palm-leaves
in his hands, he was doing nothing. All the ascetics therefore, seeing this, raised a
revolt against the superior, saying: "Where did you get this fleshless man from, to
condemn us? Either drive him out, or know that we are all going. Pachomius, therefore,
having heard the details of his observance, prayed to God that the identity of the
stranger might be revealed to him. [16] And it was revealed; and he took him by the hand
and led him to the house of prayer, where the altar was, and said to him, "Here, good old
man, you are Macarius and you hid it from me. For many years I have been longing to see
you. I thank you for letting my children feel your fist, lest they should be proud of
their ascetic achievements. Now go away to your own place, for you have edified us
sufficiently. And pray for us. Then he went away, as asked.

8 [17] On another occasion he told us this story: "Having perfected every kind of life
that I desired, then I had another desire. I desired to keep my mind for five days only
undistracted from (the contemplation of) God. And, having determined this, I barred the
cell and enclosure, so as not to have to answer any man, and I took my stand, beginning at
the second hour. So I gave this commandment to my mind: "Do not descend from heaven. There
you have angels, archangels, the powers on high, the God of all; do not descend below
heaven." [18] And having lasted out two days and two nights, I exasperated the demon so
that he became a flame of fire and burned up all the things in the cell, so that even the
little mat on which I stood was consumed with fire and I thought I was being all burned
up. Finally, stricken with fear, I left off on the third day, being unable to keep my mind
free from distraction, but I descended to contemplation of the world, lest vanity should
be imputed to me."

9 [19] Once I visited this holy Macarius and found a village priest lying just outside his
cell, whose head was all eaten away by the disease called cancer, and the actual bone
appeared on the crown of his head. He had come to be healed and Macarius would not grant
him an interview. So I besought him: "I pray you, pity him and give him his answer." [20]
And he said to me: "He does not deserve to be healed, for it has been sent him as a
punishment. But if you want him to be healed, persuade him to give up taking services. For
he was taking services, though living in fornication, and for this reason he is being
punished and God is healing his soul." So when I said this to the afflicted man he
consented, and swore that he would no longer exercise his priesthood. Then he received him
and said: "Do you believe that God is?" He said to him: "Yes." [21] "Were you able to mock
God?" "No," he answered. He said: "If you recognize your sin and the chastening of God, on
account of which you suffered this, reform yourself henceforward." So he confessed his
fault and gave a promise that he would sin no more nor take the service, but embrace the
position of a layman. Then he laid his hands on him and in a few days he was cured and the
hair grew and he went away healed.

10 [22] Before my eyes a young lad was brought to him possessed by an evil spirit. So,
putting one hand on his head and the other on his heart, he prayed so much that he made
him hang in mid-air. Then the boy swelled like a wine-skin and festered so that he became
a mass of erysipelas. And having cried out suddenly, he produced water through all his
senses, and calming down returned to his original size. So he anointed him with holy oil
and handed him to his father, and having poured water upon him ordered that he should
touch neither flesh nor wine for forty days. And so he healed him. 11 [23] One day
vainglorious thoughts troubled him, driving him out from the cell and suggesting to him as
if by a divine dispensation that he should visit the city of the Romans to cure the sick.
For grace acted powerfully in him against (evil) spirits. And when for a long while he
would not obey, but was being vehemently pressed, falling on the doorstep of his cell, he
put his feet outside and said: "Drag me, demons, pull me. For I am not going with my feet.
If you can take me, then I will go." He swore to them: "Here I lie until evening. Unless
you shake me, I will not listen to you." [24] So, having lain there a long while, he got
up, but when night came on they attacked him again, and having filled a two-bushel basket
with sand and put it on his shoulders, he tramped about in the desert. Theosebius the
Cosmetor, an Antiochian by race, met him and said to him: "What are you carrying, father?
Give me the burden and don't trouble yourself." But he said to him: "I trouble my
troubler. For he is insatiable and tempts me to go out." So having tramped about for a
long time he went into his cell, having punished his body.

12 [25] This holy Macarius told me the following----for he was a priest. "I noticed at the
time of distributing the mysteries that it was never I which gave the oblation to Marcus
the ascetic, but an angel used to give it him from the altar. I saw only the knuckle of
the donor's hand." Now this Marcus was a young man, who learned by heart the Old and New
Testaments, exceedingly meek and continent beyond all others. [26] One day having leisure
----Macarius then being in extreme old age----I went off and sat by his door, thinking him
superhuman, seeing that he was so old, and listened to what he said and what he did. He
was quite alone inside; being already a hundred years old and having lost his teeth, he
was righting with himself and the devil and saying: "What do you want, bad old man? See,
you have had oil and have taken some wine. What do you want more, you white-haired
glutton?"----scolding himself. Then to the devil: "Do I owe you anything now? You won't
find anything. Go away from me." And, as if humming to himself, he was saying: "Here, you
white-haired glutton, how long shall I be with you? "

13 [27] Paphnutius his disciple told us, that one day a hyaena took her whelp, which was
blind, and brought it to Macarius. And having knocked with her head at the door of the
enclosure, she entered, Macarius sitting outside (his cell), and threw the young one down
at his feet. And he took it and spat on its eyes and prayed, and immediately it recovered
its sight. And its mother having suckled it took it and went away. [28] And on the next
day she brought the saint the fleece of a large sheep. And the blessed Melania said this
to me: "I got that fleece from Macarius as a gift to a visitor. And what marvel, if He who
tamed the lions for Daniel, also made the hyaena intelligent?" And he said, that from the
day he was baptized he never spat on the ground, it being then sixty years from his
baptism. [29] As to his bodily form, he was rather short, and beardless, having no hairs
except on his lips and the tip of his chin. For owing to the excess of his asceticism the
hairs of his beard did not even sprout.

14 One day, when I was suffering from accidie, I went to him and said: "Father, what shall
I do? Since my thoughts afflict me saying, 'You are making no progress, go away from
here.'" And he said to me: "Tell them, 'For Christ's sake I am guarding the walls' " I
have told you these few stories out of many relating to the holy Macarius.

CHAPTER XIX. -- MOSES THE ROBBER

1 [1] A CERTAIN Moses----this was his name----an Ethiopian by race and black, was house-
servant to a government official. His own master drove him out because of his immorality
and brigandage. For he was said to go even the length of murder. I am compelled to tell
his wicked acts in order to show the virtue of his repentance. Anyhow they used to say
that he was leader of a robber-band, and among his acts of brigandage one stood out
specially, that once he plotted vengeance against a shepherd who had one night with his
dogs impeded him in a project. [2] Desirous to kill him, he looked about to find the place
where the shepherd kept his sheep. And he was informed that it was on the opposite bank of
the Nile. And, since the river was in flood and about a mile in extent, he grasped his
sword in his mouth and put his shirt on his head and so got over, swimming the river.
While he was swimming over, the shepherd was able to escape him by burying himself in the
sand. So, having killed the four best rams and tied them together with a cord, he swam
back again. [3] And having come to a little homestead he flayed the sheep, and having
eaten the best of the flesh and sold the skins in exchange for wine, he drank a quart,
that is eighteen Italian pints, and went off fifty miles further to where he had his band.

2 In the end this abandoned man, conscience-stricken as a result of one of his adventures,
gave himself up to a monastery and to such practising of asceticism that he brought
publicly to the knowledge of Christ even his accomplice in crime from his youth, the demon
who had sinned with him. Among other tales this is told of him. One day robbers attacked
him as he sat in his cell, not knowing who it was. They were four in number. [4] He tied
them all together and, putting them on his back like a truss of straw, brought them to the
church of the brethren, saying: "Since I am not allowed to hurt anyone, what do you bid me
do with these?" Then these robbers, having confessed their sins and recognized that it was
Moses the erstwhile renowned and far-famed robber, themselves also glorified God and
renounced the world because of his conversion, saying to themselves: "If he who was so
great and powerful in brigandage has feared God, why should we defer our salvation?"

3 [5] This Moses was attacked by demons, who tried to plunge him into his old habit of
sexual incontinence. He was tempted so greatly, as he himself testified, that he almost
relinquished his purpose. So, having come to the great Isidore, the one who lived in
Scete, he told him about his conflict. And he said to him: "Do not be grieved. These are
the beginnings, and therefore they have attacked you the more vehemently, seeking out your
old habit. [6] For just as a dog in a butcher's shop owing to his habits cannot tear
himself away, but if the shop is closed and no one gives him anything, he no longer comes
near it. So also with you; if you endure, the demon gets discouraged and has to leave you.
So he returned and from that hour practised asceticism more vehemently, and especially
refrained from food, taking nothing except dry bread to the extent of twelve ounces,
accomplishing a great deal of work and completing fifty prayers (a day). Thus he mortified
his body, but he still continued to burn and be troubled by dreams. [7] Again he went to
another one of the saints and said to him: "What am I to do, seeing that the dreams of my
soul darken my reason, by reason of my sinful habits? He said to him: "Because you have
not withdrawn your mind from imagining these things, that is why you endure this. Give
yourself to watching and pray with fasting and you will quickly be delivered from them.

4 Listening to this advice also he went away to his cell and gave his word that he would
not sleep all night nor bend his knees. [8] So he remained in his cell for six years and
every night he stood in the middle of the cell praying and not closing his eyes. And he
could not master the thing. So he suggested to himself yet another plan, and going out by
night he would visit the cells of the older and more ascetic (monks), and taking their
water-pots secretly would fill them with water. For they fetch their water from a
distance, some from two miles off, some five miles, others half a mile. [9] So one night
the demon watched for him, having lost his patience, and as he stooped down at the well
gave him a blow with a cudgel across the loins and left him (apparently) dead, with no
perception of what he had suffered or from whom. So the next day a man came to draw water
and found him lying there, and told the great Isidore, the priest of Scete. He therefore
picked him up and brought him to the church, and for a year he was so ill that with
difficulty did his body and soul recover strength. [10] So the great Isidore said to him:
"Moses, stop struggling with the demons, and do not provoke them. But he said to him: "I
will never cease until the appearance of the demons ceases. So he said to him:

5 "In the name of Jesus Christ your dreams have ceased. Come to Communion then with
confidence, for, that you should not boast of having overcome passion, this is why you
have been oppressed, for your good. [11] And he went away again to his cell. Afterwards
when asked by Isidore, some two months later, he said that he no longer suffered anything.
Indeed, he was counted worthy of such a gift (of power) over demons that we fear these
flies more than he feared demons. This was the manner of life of Moses the Ethiopian; he
too was numbered among the great ones of the fathers. So he died in Scete seventy-five
years old, having become a priest; and he left seventy disciples.

CHAPTER XX. -- PAUL

[1] THERE is a mountain in Egypt called Pherme, which borders on the great desert of
Scete. On this mountain dwell some 500 men, devotees of asceticism. One of them, a man
named Paul, had this manner of life: he touched no work, and no business, nor did he
receive anything from any man beyond what he ate. But his work and his asceticism
consisted in ceaseless prayer. So he had 300 set prayers, and he collected as many pebbles
and kept them in his lap and threw out of his lap one pebble at each prayer. [2] Having
gone for an interview with Macarius, the one known as Citizen, he said to him: "Father
Macarius, I am afflicted." So he compelled him to say for what reason. But he said to him:
"In a certain village there dwells a virgin who has lived the ascetic life for thirty
years. They have told me of her that except on Saturday and Sunday she never eats. But all
the while dragging out the long weeks and eating at intervals of five days she makes 700
prayers. And when I learned this I despaired of myself because I could not make more than
300." [3] The holy Macarius answered him: "I am now sixty years old; I make 100 set
prayers and produce my food by my own work, and give the brethren the interviews that are
their due, and my reason does not condemn me as having neglected my duty. But if you say
300 and are condemned by your conscience, you are clearly not praying them with purity, or
else you could pray more and do not."

CHAPTER XXI. -- EULOGIUS AND THE CRIPPLE

1 [1] CRONIUS the priest of Nitria told me this: When I was young and because of accidie
fled from the monastery of my archimandrite, I came in my wanderings to the mountain of
the holy Antony. It lay between Babylon and Heracles in the great desert that leads to the
Red Sea, about thirty miles from the River. So having come to Antony's monastery by the
River where his two disciples dwelt at the place called Pispir----I mean Macarius and
Amatas, who also buried him when he died----I waited five days for an interview with the
holy Antony. [2] For he was said to visit this monastery at intervals now of ten days, now
of twenty, now of five, as God led him, to do good to those who happened to visit the
monastery. So a number of brethren were assembled, one with this need, another with that.
Among them was a certain Eulogius, a monk of Alexandria, and another man, a cripple, who
had come for the following reason.

2 [3] This Eulogius was a learned man, having had a good all-round education, who smitten
with a love of immortality renounced the clamours (of the world), and disposing of all his
goods left himself a little money, since he was unable to work. Well, suffering from
accidie and wishing neither to enter a convent nor to reach perfection alone, he found a
man lying in the market-place, a cripple, with neither hands nor feet. His tongue was the
only part of his body that was undamaged, and was used to appeal to the passer-by. [4] So
Eulogius stood and gazed at him and prayed to God and made a covenant with God (saying):
"Lord, in Thy name I take this cripple and comfort him until death, that I also may be
saved through him. Grant me patience to serve him! And approaching the crippled man he
said to him: "Would you like me, great one, to take you to my house and comfort you? He
said to him: "Yes, indeed. "Then shall I get an ass and take you? He agreed. So he fetched
an ass and carried him and brought him to his own guest-chamber and took care of him. [5]
Well, the cripple lasted on for fifteen years and was nursed by him, being washed and
tended by the hands of Eulogius, and fed in a way suitable to his malady. But after the
fifteen years a demon attacked him, and he rebelled against Eulogius.

3 And he began to dress the man down with great abuse and reviling, adding: "Assassin,
deserter, you stole other folk's property, and you want to be saved through me. Throw me
into the market-place. I want meat. He brought him meat. [6] Again he cried out: "I am not
satisfied. I want crowds. I want to be in the market-place. Oh the violence! Put me where
you found me. If he had had hands he would have quickly strangled him, to such an extent
had the demon infuriated him. So Eulogius went off to the neighbouring ascetics and said
to them: "What shall I do, because this cripple has brought me to despair? Am I to cast
him out? I pledged myself to God and I am afraid. But am I not to cast him out? He gives
me bad days and nights, so that I do not know what to do to him. [7] But they said to him:
"While the great one is still alive"----for so they called Antony----" put the cripple in
a boat and go to him, and take him to the monastery and wait till Antony comes out from
the cave and refer the case to him. And whatever he says to you, go by his decision, for
God speaks to you by him. And he heard them patiently, and putting the cripple into a
rustic boat went out by night from the city and took him to the monastery of the disciples
of the holy Antony.

4 [8] Now it happened that the great man came the next day in the late evening, as Cronius
had said, wrapped in a cloak of skin. When he reached the monastery, this was his custom,
to summon Macarius and ask him: "Brother Macarius, have any brethren come here? He
answered "Yes. "Egyptians or from Jerusalem? And he had given him a sign: "If you see them
inclined to be careless, say Egyptians; but when they are more serious and studious, say
from Jerusalem. [9] So he asked him as usual: "Are the brethren Egyptians or from
Jerusalem? Macarius answered and said to him: "A mixture. Now when he said to him "They
are Egyptians," the holy Antony would say to him: "Prepare some lentils and give them a
meal," and he would utter a prayer for them and say good-bye. But when he said "from
Jerusalem," he would sit up all night, talking to them about salvation. [10] So that night
he sat down, (Cronius) says, and called them all to him and, though none had told him what
name he bore, called out in the dark and said "Eulogius, Eulogius, Eulogius"----three
times. He, the learned man I mean, did not answer, thinking that another Eulogius was
being called. He said to him again: "I am speaking to you, Eulogius, the man who came from
Alexandria. Eulogius said to him: "What are your commands, I pray? "Why have you come?
Eulogius answered and said to him: "He that revealed to you my name, hath also revealed to
you my business.

5 [11] Antony said to him: "I know why you came. But speak before all the brethren, that
they also may hear. Eulogius said to him: "I found this cripple in the market-place and I
pledged myself to God that I would nurse him and so be saved through him and he through
me. So since after all these years he torments me to distraction, and I contemplated
casting him out; on this account I came to your holiness, in order that you might counsel
me what I ought to do and pray for me, for I am terribly distressed. [12] Antony said to
him with angry and stern voice: "Cast him out? But He Who made him does not cast him out.
Will you cast him out? God will raise up a man better than you, and he will succour him.
Eulogius, who had been calm up till now, trembled. And Antony leaving Eulogius began to
castigate the cripple with his tongue and cry: "You crippled and maimed man, deserving
neither earth nor heaven, will you not cease fighting against God? Do you not know that it
is Christ Who is serving you? How dare you utter such words against Christ? Was it not for
Christ's sake that he made himself a slave to minister to you? So having reprimanded him,
he left him alone too. And having conversed with all the rest about their needs he
returned to Eulogius and the cripple and said to them: "Do not wander about any more, go
away.

6 Do not be separated from one another, except in your cell in which you have dwelt so
long. For already God is sending for you. For this temptation has come upon you because
you are both near your end and are about to be counted worthy of crowns. Do nothing else
therefore, and may the angel when he comes not find you here. So they journeyed in haste
and came to their cell, and within forty days Eulogius died, and in three days more the
cripple died too. 7 [15] But Cronius, after staying in the regions round the Thebaid, came
down to the monasteries of Alexandria. And it happened that the services for the fortieth
day of the one and the third day of the other were being celebrated by the brethren.
Cronius learned this and was amazed, and having taken a gospel and put it before the
brethren took an oath, after telling what had happened, and said: "I was blessed Antony's
interpreter in these conversations, since he does not know Greek; for I know both tongues
and interpreted to them, speaking to these two in Greek, to Antony in Egyptian. [16] And
Cronius told this story also: "In that night blessed Antony told me this: 'For a whole
year I prayed that the place of the just and of sinners might be revealed to me. And I saw
a tall giant reaching to the clouds, black, with his hands stretched up to heaven, and
under him a lake as vast as the sea, and I saw souls flying like birds. [17] And as many
as flew over his hands and head were saved. But as many as were struck by his hands fell
into the lake. Then came a voice to me saying, These souls of the righteous which thou
seest flying are the souls which are saved for Paradise. But the others are those which
are drawn down to hell, having followed the desires of the flesh and revenge.' "

CHAPTER XXII. -- PAUL THE SIMPLE

1 [1] CRONIUS and the holy Hierax and a number of others, about whom I shall presently
speak, told me this tale also. A certain Paul, a rustic peasant, exceedingly guileless and
simple, was wedded to a most beautiful woman of depraved character, who for a very long
while concealed her sins from him. However, Paul came in suddenly from work and found his
wife and her lover behaving shamefully, Providence thus guiding Paul to what was best for
himself. And laughing discreetly he called to them and said: "Good, good. I don't mind,
truly. By Jesus, I'll take her no longer. Go, you have her and her children, for I am
going to become a monk. [2] And saying nothing to anyone he hastened along the eight
stages and went to the blessed Antony and knocked at the door. He came out and asked him:
"What do you want? He said to him: "I want to become a monk. Antony answered and said to
him: "You are an old man, sixty years old; you cannot become a monk here. But rather go
back to your village and work and live an active life giving thanks to God, for you cannot
endure the tribulations of the desert. The old man answered again and said: "Whatever you
teach me, I will do it. [3] Antony said to him: "I have told you that you are an old man
and cannot stand it.

2 If you really want to become a monk, go to a cenobium with a number of brethren, who can
support your weakness. For I live here alone, eating after a five days' fast, and that
without satisfying my hunger. With these and such-like words he tried to frighten Paul
away and, since he could not endure him, Antony shut the door and did not go out for three
days because of him, not even for necessary purposes. But Paul did not go away. [4] But on
the fourth day necessity compelling him he opened the door and went out and said to him
again: "Go away from here, old man. Why do you annoy me? You cannot stay here. Paul said
to him: "It is impossible for me to die elsewhere than here. So Antony looked about and
noticed that he had not with him any form of nourishment, neither bread nor water, and
that he was now in the fourth day of his fast, and saying: "Lest perchance you die and
stain my soul," he received him. And Antony adopted in those days a regime which he had
never tried in his youth. [5] And having moistened some palm-leaves he said to him: "Take
these, weave them into mats, as I do. The old man wove until the ninth hour, laboriously
completing ninety feet. So Antony looked and was displeased and said to him:

3 "You have woven badly, unpick them and weave them over again" ----imposing this nauseous
task upon him, though he was hungry and aged, in order that he might be disgusted and flee
away from Antony. But he both unpicked and wove again the same leaves, though it was more
difficult, because they were all shrivelled up.And Antony, seeing that he neither murmured
nor was discouraged nor angry, felt compunction. [6] And after sunset he said to him:
"Would you like us to eat a piece of bread? Paul said to him: "As you please, father. And
this again moved Antony, that he did not rush eagerly at the mention of food, but had
thrown the power (of choice) upon him. So he laid the table and brought in bread. And
Antony, having put out the biscuits, weighing six ounces each, moistened one for himself
----for they were dry----and three for Paul. And Antony struck up a psalm which he knew,
and after singing it twelve times he prayed twelve times, to test Paul. [7] But he eagerly
joined in the prayer, for he would have preferred being eaten by scorpions, so I think, to
living with an adulterous woman. But after the twelve prayers they sat down to eat late in
the evening. Now Antony, having eaten the one biscuit, did not touch another. But the old
man, eating more slowly, was still at his little biscuit. Antony was waiting for him to
finish and says to him: "Eat, father, a second biscuit. Paul says to him:

4 "If you will eat, I will too; if you do not eat, I will not. Antony says: "I have had
enough, for I am a monk. [8] Paul says to him: "I too have had enough, for I too want to
become a monk. He rises again and prays twelve prayers and chants twelve psalms. Antony
sleeps a little of his first sleep and then gets up to sing psalms at midnight until day.
So when he saw the old man eagerly following his mode of life he said to him: "If you can
do thus every day, stay with me. Paul said to him: "If there is anything more, I do not
know; for I can do easily these things which I have seen. Antony said to him the next day:
"Behold, you have become a monk." 5 [9] So Antony, convinced after the required number of
months that Paul had a perfect soul, being very simple and grace co-operating with him,
made him a cell, three or four miles away, and said to him: "Behold, you have become a
monk; remain alone in order that you may be tried by demons. So Paul dwelt there one year
and was counted worthy of grace over demons and diseases. Among other cases, a demoniac
was once brought to Antony, exceedingly terrifying, possessed by a spirit of high rank,
who cursed even heaven itself. [10] So Antony, having examined him, said to those who
brought him: "This is not my work, for I have not yet been counted worthy of power over
this order of high rank, but this is Paul's business. So Antony went off and led them to
Paul, and said to him: "Father Paul, cast out this demon from the man that he may go away
cured to his home. Said Paul to him: "What are you doing? Antony said to him: "I have no
leisure, I have something else to do. And Antony left him and went again to his own cell.
[11] So the old man got up, and having prayed an effective prayer, addressed the demoniac:
"Father Antony has said, 'Go out from the man.'" But the demon cried out, saying with
blasphemies: "I am not going out, bad old man. So Paul took his sheep-skin coat and struck
the man on the back with it saying:

6 "Father Antony has said, 'Go out.' " Again the demon cursed with some violence both
Antony and him. Finally he said to him: "You are going out; or else I'll go and tell
Christ. By Jesus, if you don't go out I am going this very minute to tell Christ, and He
will do you harm. [12] Again the demon cursed yet more, saying: "I am not going out. So
Paul got angry with the demon and went outside his dwelling at high noon. But the heat of
the Egyptians is akin to the furnace of Babylonia. And standing on a rock on the mountain
he prayed and said: "O Jesus Christ, Who wast crucified under Pontius Pilate, thou seest
that I will not descend from the rock, I will not eat nor drink till I die, unless Thou
drive out the spirit from the man and free the man. [13] But before the words were out of
his mouth the demon cried out, saying: "Oh violence! I am being driven away. The
simplicity of Paul drives me away, and where am I to go? And immediately the spirit went
out and was turned into a great dragon seventy cubits long and was swept away to the Red
Sea, that the saying might be fulfilled: "The righteous will declare the faith that is
shown. This is the marvellous tale of Paul who was surnamed Simple by all the brotherhood.

CHAPTER XXIII. -- PACHON

1 [1] THERE dwelt in Scete a man named Pachon, who had reached his sixtieth year or
thereabouts. Now I happened to be dejected, having been tormented by the love of women,
both in my (waking) thoughts and my nocturnal visions. And I was nearly leaving the
desert, passion driving me, yet I did not refer the matter to my neighbours, nor to my
teacher Evagrius. But I journeyed secretly into the great desert and spent fifteen days in
meeting the fathers who had grown old in the desert at Scete. [2] Among others I met
Pachon. Well, finding him more guileless and better versed in asceticism than the rest, I
was bold to refer to him the state of my mind. And he said to me: "Let not the affair
disconcert you, for you are not suffering this from negligence. For the place is a witness
in your favour, both because of the lack of necessaries and the absence of facilities for
meeting women. But rather it comes from your zeal. For the war against impurity is triple.
At one time the flesh attacks us because it is vigorous; at another the passions attack us
through our thoughts; at another the demon himself in malice. I have found this after much
observation. [3] Look how you see me, an old man now. I have spent forty years in this
cell caring for my own salvation, and growing to be as old as this I have been tempted all
the while. And he said this, confirming it with an oath:

2 "For twelve years after my fiftieth year the demon gave me no respite in his attacks by
night and day. Supposing therefore that God had left me and on this account I was under
his power, I preferred to die in an irrational manner rather than act improperly through
bodily passion. And having gone out and explored the desert I found a hyaena's cave. In
which cave I laid myself down naked in the daytime, in order that the beasts when they
came out might eat me. [4] So, when evening came, as it is written: 'Thou madest darkness
and night came: in it all the beasts of the forest will roam' ----the beasts came out,
male and female, and smelt me, licking me from head to foot. And when I was expecting to
be eaten up, they left me. So having lain down all night, I was not eaten. But reckoning
that God had spared me, I returned again to the cell. Well, the demon, having restrained
himself a few days, then attacked me again more vehemently than at first, so that I very
nearly blasphemed. [5] He changed himself into an Ethiopian maiden, whom I had once seen
in my youth in the summer-time picking reeds, and sat on my knee. So in a fury I gave her
a blow and she disappeared. Well, for two years I could not bear the evil smell of my
hand! So I went out into the great desert, wandering up and down discouraged and in
despair.

3 And having found a little asp, I picked it up and applied it to my flesh, in order that
I might die, even though it were by a bite of this kind. And I rubbed the beast's head on
my flesh, as the cause of my temptation, but I was not bitten. [6] Then I heard a voice
saying in my thoughts: 'Go, Pachon, struggle on. For this is why I have left you to be
tyrannized over, that you should not be proud, as if you had any strength, but recognizing
your weakness should not trust in your manner of life, but run for the help of God.' Thus
convinced I returned and dwelt in confidence, and no longer troubling about the war I was
in peace the rest of my days. But he, knowing how I despised him, no longer came near me."

CHAPTER XXIV. -- STEPHEN

[1] ONE Stephen, a Libyan by race, dwelt on the shores of Marmarica and the Mareotis for
sixty years. He became an ascetic of great eminence with a gift of discernment, and was
counted worthy of such a gift of grace that every afflicted man, whatever his affliction,
went away free from affliction after meeting him. Now he was known to the blessed Antony;
and he lived on also to our own days. I never met him, because his place was so far away.
[2] But the holy Ammonius and Evagrius and their companions, who met him, told me the
following: "We found him suffering from an illness like this, having developed an ulcer of
the sort called cancerous. We discovered him being treated by a doctor, and working with
his hands and weaving palm-leaves and talking to us, while the rest of his body was being
operated on. He was behaving just as if another man were being cut. Though the flesh was
cut away like hair, he was insensible, thanks to the greatness of his religious
preparation. [3] But while we were on the one hand grieving and on the other hand feeling
disgusted that such a life had ended in such suffering and such surgical operations, he
said to us: 'Children, do not be troubled by this affair. For God does nothing of what He
does for malice, but for a good end. For perhaps my flesh deserves chastisement, and it is
fitting that it should pay the penalty now rather than when I have quitted the arena.' So
he edified us with his exhortations and encouragements," But I have told this lest we
should be disconcerted when we see saints suffering such afflictions.

CHAPTER XXV. -- VALENS

1 [1] THERE was a man named Valens, a Palestinian by race, but Corinthian in his character
----for St. Paul attributed the vice of presumption to the Corinthians. Having taken to
the desert he dwelt with us for a number of years. He reached such a pitch of arrogance
that he was deceived by demons. For by deceiving him little by little they induced him to
be very proud, supposing that angels met him. [2] One day at least, so they told the tale,
as he was working in the dark he let drop the needle with which he was stitching the
basket. And when he did not find it, the demon made a lamp, and he found the needle.
Again, puffed up at this, he waxed proud and in fact was so greatly puffed up that he
despised the communion of the mysteries. Now it happened that certain strangers came and
brought sweetmeats to the Church for the brethren. [3] So the holy Macarius our priest
received them and sent a handful or so to each of us in his cell, among the rest also to
Valens. When Valens received the bearer he insulted him and struck him and said to him:
"Go and tell Macarius, 'I am not worse than you, that you should send me a blessing.' " So
Macarius, knowing that he was the victim of illusion, went the next day to exhort him and
said to him: "Valens, you are the victim of illusions. Stop it. And when he would not
listen to his exhortations, he retired.

2 [4] So the demon, convinced that he was completely persuaded by his deception, went away
and disguised himself as the Saviour, and came by night in a vision of a thousand angels
bearing lamps and a fiery wheel, in which it seemed that the Saviour appeared, and one
came in front of the others and said: "Christ has loved you because of your conduct and
the freedom of your life, and He has come to see you. So go out of the cell, do nothing
else but look at his face from afar, stoop down and worship, and then go to your cell. [5]
So he went out and saw them in ranks carrying lamps, and antichrist about a stade away,
and he fell down and worshipped. Then the next day again he became so mad that he entered
into the church and before the assembled brotherhood said: "I have no need of Communion,
for I have seen Christ to-day. Then the fathers bound him and put him in irons for a year
and so cured him, destroying his pride by their prayers and indifference and calmer mode
of life. As it is said, "Diseases are cured by their opposites."

3 [6] But it is necessary to insert in this little book the lives of men like this, for
the safety of the readers, in the same way as there was the tree of knowledge of good and
evil among the holy trees of paradise; in order that, if ever a righteous act should be
achieved by them, they may not be proud of their virtue. For often even virtue becomes the
cause of a fall, whenever it is not accomplished with upright intention. For it is
written: "I saw a just man destroyed in his just act; and this thing is indeed vanity."

CHAPTER XXVI. -- HERON

1 [1] THERE was a certain Heron, a neighbour of mine, an Alexandrian by race, an excellent
young man, of good natural ability and pure in his life. He also after many toils was
attacked by pride and flung off all restraints and cherished presumptuous sentiments
against the fathers, insulting even the blessed Evagrius by saying: "Those who obey your
teaching are dupes; for one should not pay heed to any teachers except Christ. He even
abused Scripture to serve the purpose of his folly and would say: "The Saviour Himself
said, 'Call no man teacher upon the earth.'" [2] His mind became so darkened that he too
was afterwards put in irons, since he was unwilling even to attend the mysteries----truth
is dear. He was excessively abstemious in his mode of life, so that many who knew him
intimately declared that he frequently went three months without eating, being content
with the communion of the mysteries and any wild herbs that might be found. And I too had
an experience of him when I went to Scete with the blessed Albanius. [3] Scete was forty
miles away from us. In the course of those forty miles we ate twice and drank water three
times, but he without eating anything went on foot and said by heart fifteen psalms, then
the long psalm, then the Epistle to the Hebrews, then Isaiah and part of Jeremiah, then
Luke the Evangelist, then the Proverbs. And things being so, yet we could not keep up with
him as he walked.

2 [4] Finally, driven as it were by fire, he could not remain in his cell, but went off to
Alexandria, by (divine) dispensation, and, as the saying goes, "knocked out one nail with
another. For of his own free will he fell into indifference, but afterwards found
salvation involuntarily. For he frequented the theatre and circuses and enjoyed the
diversions of the taverns. And thus, eating and drinking immoderately, he fell into a mire
of concupiscence. [5] And when he was resolving to sin he met an actress and had converse
with her. In consequence a carbuncle developed on his private parts, and for six months he
was so ill that the parts rotted away and fell off. Later, restored to health without
those parts and returned to a religious frame of mind, he came and confessed all these
things to the fathers. A few days after he fell asleep before he had returned to work.

CHAPTER XXVII. -- PTOLEMY

[1] AGAIN another monk, Ptolemy by name, lived a life difficult, even impossible, to
describe. He dwelt beyond Scete in a place called Climax. The place which bears this name
is one in which no one can live because the well of the brethren is eighteen miles away.
He then, carrying a number of pots brought them there, and collecting the dew with a
sponge from the rocks during the months of December and January----for there is a
plentiful fall of dew then in those parts----he made this suffice during the fifteen years
he lived there. [2] And he became a stranger to the teaching of holy men and intercourse
with them, and the benefit derived therefrom, and the constant communion of the mysteries,
and diverged so greatly from the straight way that he declared these things were nothing;
but they say he is wandering about in Egypt up to the present day all puffed up with
pride, and has given himself over to gluttony and drunkenness, speaking no (edifying) word
to anyone.And this disaster fell on Ptolemy from his irrational conceit, as it is written:
"They who have no directing influence fall like leaves.'''

CHAPTER XXVIII. -- A VIRGIN WHO FELL

AGAIN, I knew a virgin in Jerusalem who wore sackcloth for six years and shut herself up
in a cell, taking none of the things that bestow pleasure. In the end she fell, abandoned
(by God) because of her excessive arrogance. She opened the window and admitted the man
who waited on her and sinned with him, because she had practised asceticism not with a
religious motive and for the love of God, but with human ostentation, which springs from
vain-glory and corrupt intention. For, her thoughts being engrossed in condemning others,
the guardian of her chastity was absent.

CHAPTER XXIX. -- ELIAS

1 [1] ELIAS, an ascetic, was a great friend of the virgins. For there are some souls like
this, whose virtuous aims testify to their goodness. He had compassion on the class of
women ascetics, and having property in the city of Athribé built a great monastery and
brought into the monastery all the dispersed women, caring for them consistently (with his
purpose), and procured them every kind of refreshment, and gardens and utensils and
whatever their life required. These ladies, brought from different sorts of lives, had
continual fights with one another. [2] Now since he was obliged to listen to them and make
peace----for he collected some 300 of them----he found it necessary to remain in their
midst for two years. Being still young, for he was some thirty to forty years old, he was
tempted by desire. And having left the monastery he wandered fasting in the desert for two
days, making this request in his prayer: "Lord, either kill me, that I may not see these
women in trouble, or take away my passion that I may care for them in a rational way. [3]
When evening had come, he fell asleep in the desert, and three angels came to him----so he
told the story----and caught hold of him and said: "Why did you leave the monastery of the
women? He explained the matter to them. "Because I was afraid I might harm both them and
myself. They said to him: "Then if we relieve you of the passion, will you go and care for
them?

2 He agreed to this. They made him swear an oath. [4] He said this was the oath: "Swear to
us, by Him Who cares for me I will care for them. And he swore to them. Then one of them
seized his hands, and another his feet, and a third taking a razor unmanned him, not
really but in the vision. So he seemed to himself to have been cured, so to say, in the
trance. They asked him: "Do you feel any benefit? He said to them: "I feel greatly
lightened and am persuaded that I am relieved of my passion. [5] They said to him: "Go
away, then. And he returned after five days, the monastery mourning for him the while, and
went in and remained inside henceforward, in an adjoining cell, from which being near at
hand he corrected them continually so far as he could. But he lived forty years more,
always assuring the fathers: "Passion comes no more into my mind. Such was the gift of
grace of that holy man who thus looked after the monastery.

CHAPTER XXX. -- DOROTHEUS

HE was succeeded by Dorotheus, a well-tried man who had grown old in a good and active
life. Not being able to stay in the monastery itself, as Elias had done, he shut himself
up in an upper chamber and made a window looking on to the women's monastery, which he
used to shut and open. So he would sit continually at the window reminding them to keep
the peace. And so he grew old up there in the upper chamber, without either the women
going up to him or himself being able to come down to them. For there was no ladder fixed.

CHAPTER XXXI. -- PIAMOUN

[1] PIAMOUN was a virgin who lived the years of her life with her mother, eating every
other day in the evening and spinning flax. She was accounted worthy of the gift of
prophecy, of which this is an example. It happened once in Egypt during the overflow (of
the Nile) that one village attacked another. For they fight over the distribution of the
water, so that murders and woundings ensue. Well, a stronger village attacked her village,
and men came in a crowd with spears and clubs to destroy her village. [2] But an angel
appeared to her, revealing to her their attack. And, sending for the elders of the
village, she said: "Go out and meet the men who are coming against you from that village,
lest you also perish with the village, and urge them to cease from their malice." But the
elders were afraid and fell at her feet beseeching her and saying to her: "We dare not
meet them; for we know their drunkenness and madness. [3] But if you have pity both on the
whole village and your own house, go out yourself and meet them." Not agreeing to this,
she went up to her own cottage----it was night at the time----and stood continually in
prayer, not kneeling down, and beseeching God thus: "O Lord, Who judgest the earth, to
Whom no unjust act is pleasing, when this prayer reaches Thee, let Thy power nail these
men to the spot where-ever .it finds them." [4] And about the first hour, when they were
about three miles away, they were nailed to the ground and could not move. And it was
revealed also to them that this hindrance had come to them through her petitions. And they
sent to the village and asked for peace, declaring: "Give thanks to God and the prayers of
Piamoun, for they hindered us."

CHAPTER XXXII. -- PACHOMIUS AND THE TABENNESIOTS

1 [1] TABENNISI is a place, so-called, in the Thebaid, in which there lived a certain
Pachomius, one of those who have lived in the straight way, so that he was counted worthy
both of prophecies and angelic visions. He was exceedingly devoted both to his fellow-men
and his brethren. Accordingly, to him as he sat in his cave an angel appeared and said:
"You have successfully ordered your own life. So it is superfluous to remain sitting in
your cave. Up! go out and collect all the young monks and dwell with them, and according
to the model which I now give you, so legislate for them;" and he gave him a brass tablet
on which this was inscribed---- 2 [2] "Thou shalt allow each man to eat and drink
according to his strength; and proportionately to the strength of the eaters appoint to
them their labours. And prevent no man either from fasting or eating. However, appoint the
tasks that need strength to those who are stronger and eat, and to the weaker and more
ascetic such as the weak can manage. Make a number of cells within the enclosure and let
three dwell in each cell. But let them all go to one building for their food. [3] Let them
sleep not lying down full length, but let them make sloping chairs easily constructed and
put their rugs on them and thus sleep in a sitting posture. And let them wear at night
linen lebitons and a girdle. Let each of them have a worked goatskin cloak, without which
they are not to eat. When they go to Communion on Saturday and Sunday, let them loosen
their girdles and lay aside the skin cloak and go in with the cowl only. And he prescribed
for them napless cowls, as for children, on which he ordered an imprint, the mark of a
cross, to be worked in dark red. [4] And he ordered that there should be twenty-four
sections, and to each order he assigned a letter of the Greek alphabet----alpha, beta,
gamma, delta, and so on. So when the Superior asked questions, or busied himself with the
affairs of the great multitude, he asked the second: "How is the Alpha section? or, "How
is the Zeta? or again:

3 "Greet the Rho," and they followed a private meaning assigned to the letters. "And to
the simpler and more unworldly thou shalt give the Iota, and to the more difficult and
perverse thou shalt assign the Xi. [5] And so, in correspondence with the nature of their
dispositions and manners and lives, he fitted the letters to each section, only the
spiritual knowing what was meant. And it was written on the tablet: "A stranger of another
monastery which has a different rule is not to eat with them, nor drink, nor enter into
the monastery, unless he happens to be on a (genuine) journey. However, the man who has
come to remain with them they do not allow to enter into the sanctuary for three years.
But after a three years' probation and performance of the more toilsome labours, then he
enters. [6] "As they eat let them cover their heads with their cowls lest one brother see
another chewing. A monk is not allowed to talk at meals nor let his eye wander beyond his
plate or the table. And he ordered them during the whole day to make twelve prayers, and
twelve at the lamp-lighting, and twelve at the night-vigils, and three at the ninth hour.
But when a group was about to eat he ordered a psalm to be sung before each prayer.

4 [7] When Pachomius objected to the angel that the prayers were few, the angel said to
him: "I gave this rule so as to make sure in advance that even the little ones keep the
rule and are not afflicted. But the perfect have no need of legislation, for by themselves
in their cells they have surrendered the whole of their life to the contemplation of God.
But I have legislated for as many as have not a discerning mind, in order that they, like
house-servants fulfilling the duties of their station, may live a life of freedom." 5 Now
there are a number of these monasteries which have observed this rule, amounting to 7000
men. But the first and great monastery is that where Pachomius himself dwelt, which itself
also is the parent of the other monasteries; it has 1300 members. [8] Among them there was
also the noble Aphthonius, who became my intimate friend, and is now second in the
monastery. Him they send to Alexandria, since nothing can make him stumble, in order to
sell their produce and buy necessaries. [9] But there are also other monasteries two
hundred or three hundred strong. One of these, with 300 monks, I found when I entered the
city of Panopolis. [In the monastery I found fifteen tailors, seven smiths, four
carpenters, twelve camel-drivers, and fifteen fullers. But they work at every kind of
craft and with their surplus output they provide for the needs both of the women's
convents and the prisons. [10] [They keep pigs too, and when I blamed the practice, they
said: "In our tradition we have received this, that they are to be kept because of the
chaff, and the refuse of the vegetables and other scraps that one throws away, lest they
be wasted. And the pigs are to be killed and their meat sold, but the tit-bits are to be
devoted to the sick and aged, because the neighbourhood is poor and populous; for the
tribe of the Blemmyes live near.

6 [11] But those who are to serve that day rise early and get to their work, some to the
kitchen, others to the tables. They spend their time then until the meal-hour in arranging
and preparing the tables, putting loaves on each, and charlock, preserved olives, cheese
of cows' milk, [the tit-bits of the meat], and chopped herbs. Some come in at the sixth
hour and eat, others at the seventh, others at the eighth, others at the ninth, others at
the eleventh, others in the late evening, others every other day, so that each letter
knows its own hour.[12] So also is it with their work. One works on the land as a
labourer, another in the garden, another at the forge, another in the bakery, another in
the carpenter's" shop, another in the fuller's shop, another weaving the big baskets,
another in the tannery, another in the shoemaker's shop, another in the scriptorium,
another weaving the young reeds. And they learn all the scriptures by heart.

CHAPTER XXXIII. -- THE TABENNESIOT NUNS

1 [1] THEY also had a monastery of women with some 400 members; it had the same
constitution and the same manner of life, except for the sheep-skin coat. And the women
are on the far side of the river, the men opposite them. So when a virgin dies, the
(other) virgins, having prepared her body for burial, act as bearers and lay it on the
river bank. But the brethren, having crossed in a ferry boat, with palm-leaves and olive-
branches, take the body across, singing psalms the while, and bury it in their own
cemetery. But apart from the priest and the deacon no man goes across to the women's
monastery, and they only on Sunday. 2 [2] In this women's monastery the following thing
happened. A tailor, living in the world, crossed the river in ignorance and sought work. A
young sister came out----the place was deserted ----and met him involuntarily and gave him
the answer: "We have our own tailors." [3] Another sister saw the meeting; and when some
time had elapsed and a contention arose, actuated by diabolic motives inspired by great
wickedness and an outburst of temper, she denounced the other before the sisterhood. A few
others also joined her from malice. So that sister, distressed at having endured a calumny
of a kind that had never even entered her thoughts, and being unable to bear it, flung
herself into the river secretly and lost her life. [4] Likewise the calumniator,
recognizing that her calumny was wicked, and that she had committed this abomination, went
and hung herself, she too being unable to bear (the shame of) the affair. So when the
priest came the rest of the sisters told him the affair. And he ordered first that the
sacrifice should not be offered for either of them; and as for those who had not kept the
peace, since they had been accomplices of the calumniator and had believed the scandal, he
separated them (from the rest) for seven years, depriving them of Communion.

CHAPTER XXXIV. -- THE NUN WHO FEIGNED MADNESS

1 [1] IN this monastery there was another virgin who feigned madness and possession by a
demon. And they detested her so much that they would not even eat with her, she preferring
this. She would wander about in the kitchen and do every kind of menial work, and she was,
as they say, "the monastery sponge," fulfilling in fact the words of Scripture: "If any
one seem to be wise among you in this world, let him become foolish that he may be wise."
She fastened some rags on her head----all the rest had the tonsure and wore cowls----and
served in this guise. [2] None of the 400 sisters ever saw her chewing during the years of
her life. She never sat at table, nor partook of a piece of bread, but wiping up the
crumbs from the tables and washing the kitchen pots she was content with what she got in
this way. Never did she insult any one nor grumble nor talk either little or much,
although she was cuffed and insulted and cursed and execrated.

2 [3] Now an angel appeared to the holy Piteroum, an anchorite of high reputation who
dwelt in Porphyrites, and said to him: "Why are you proud of yourself for being religious
and dwelling in a place like this? Do you want to see a woman who is more religious than
you? Go to the monastery of the Tabennesiot women and there you will find a woman wearing
a crown on her head. She is better than you. [4] For though she spars with so great a
crowd, she has never let her heart go away from God. But you sit here and wander in
imagination through the different cities. And he who had never gone out went off to that
monastery and besought the masters to let him go to the monastery of the women. They were
emboldened to let him in, since he was famous and advanced in years. [5] And having gone
in he demanded to see them all. But she did not appear. At last he said to them: "Bring me
all, for there is one lacking. They said to him: "We have one within in the kitchen, a
sale. For thus they style the mentally afflicted. He said to them: "Bring her also to me.
Let me see her. They went off to call her. She did not answer, perhaps perceiving what was
the matter, or even having had a revelation. They drag her forcibly and say to her: "The
holy Piteroum wants to see you"; for he was famous.

3 [6] When she came, he perceived the rag on her forehead and fell at her feet and said to
her: "Bless me. She also fell at his feet in like manner, saying: "Do you bless me,
Master. They were all amazed and said to him: "Father, do not let her insult you, she is
sale. Said Piteroum to them all: "You are sale. For she is mother both of me and you"----
for thus they call the spiritual women----"and I pray to be found worthy of her in the day
of judgment. [7] Having heard these words they fell at his feet, all confessing in
different ways: one that she had poured the rinsings of the plate over her; another that
she had beaten her with her fist; another that she had applied a mustard-plaster to her
nose. And, in a word, all confessed outrages of one kind or another. So after praying for
them he went away. And after a few days, unable to bear her glory and the honour bestowed
by the sisters, and burdened by their apologies, she left the monastery. And where she
went, or where she disappeared to, or how she died, no one knows.

CHAPTER XXXV. -- JOHN OF LYCOPOLIS

1 [1] THERE was a certain John in Lycopolis, who in his childhood learned the trade of
carpentering----he had a brother a dyer. Later, when he was about twenty-five years old,
he renounced the world. And having lived in various monasteries for five years he retired
by himself to the mountain of Lyco, where he made himself three cells on the actual summit
and went in and immured himself. One chamber was for his bodily needs, and another where
he worked and ate, and the third where he prayed. [2] Having completed thirty years thus
immured, and receiving the necessaries of life through a window from one who ministered to
him, he was counted worthy of the gift of predictions. Among other instances he sent
various predictions to the blessed emperor Theodosius, one concerning Maximus the tyrant,
that he would conquer him and return from the Gauls; similarly also he gave him good news
about the tyrant Eugenius. His reputation as a virtuous man was widespread.

2 [3] When we were in the desert of Nitria----by we I mean myself and the blessed Evagrius
and his companions----we were anxious to find out accurately, in what his virtue
consisted. Then said the blessed Evagrius: "Gladly would I be learning what kind of man he
is, from some one who knows how to test character and speech. For if I am unable to see
him myself, but can hear accurately from another's description the details of his manner
of life, then I will not go so far as the mountain. I heard, and saying nothing to anyone
kept silence for one day; but the next day, having closed my cell and committed myself and
it to God, I hastened away to the Thebaid. [4] And I arrived after eighteen days, having
gone partly on foot, and partly by boat on the river. But it was the time of the flood,
when many are ill; which was also my experience. Well, I went and found the vestibule of
his cell closed; for the brethren built on later a very large vestibule holding about 100
men, and shutting it with a key they opened it on Saturday and Sunday. So, having learned
the reason why it was closed, I waited quietly till the Saturday. And having come at the
second hour for an interview I found him sitting by the window, through which he seemed to
be exhorting his visitors. [5] So, after greeting me, he said through an interpreter :
"Whence are you? and why have you come?

3 For I conjecture that you belong to the convent of Evagrius. I said: "I am a stranger
who started out from Galatia. And I confessed that I belonged to Evagrius' society.
Meanwhile, as we talked, the ruler of the district came up, Alypius by name. He turned to
him and left off talking with me. So I retired a little and gave way to them, standing
some way off. As their conversation lasted a long time, I became disgusted, and in my
disgust I murmured against the good old man, since he despised me and honoured him. [6]
And annoyed in mind at this, I formed the plan of going away, disdaining him. But having
called his interpreter, named Theodore, he said to him: "Go, tell that brother, 'Do not be
petty-minded. I am just going to dismiss the ruler and talk to you.' " So I resolved to
wait patiently, attending to him as a spiritual man. And when the ruler had gone, he
called me and said to me: "Why are you vexed with me? What did you find worthy of blame,
that you thought those things that neither applied to me nor befitted you? Or do you not
know that it is written: 'They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are
sick'? I find you when I want you, and you me. And if I do not console you, there are
other brethren to console you and other fathers.

4 But this man is delivered up to the devil through his worldly affairs and, having
respite for a brief hour, like a servant run away from his master, he has come to receive
benefit. It would have been absurd that we should leave him and attend to you, when you
have uninterrupted leisure to attend to your salvation. So I exhorted him to pray for me
and was fully convinced that he was a spiritual man. [8] Then, having affectionately
slapped my left cheek gently with his right hand, he said to me: "Many afflictions are in
store for you, and many times have you been tempted to leave the desert. And you have been
timid and have deferred (a decision). But the demon by providing you with pious and
specious excuses unsettles you. For he suggested to you both a longing to see your father,
and the instruction of your brother and sister with a view to the monastic life. [9]
Behold then, I give you good news: both are saved, for both have renounced the world. And
as regards your father, at this very moment he still has other years to live. So continue
in the desert and do not wish on their account to go home to your native land, for it is
written: 'No man having put his hand to the plough and turning back is fit for the kingdom
of heaven.'" So, benefited by these words and sufficiently corrected, I thanked God,
having learned that the pretexts which were driving me were finished with.

5 [10] Then again he said to me graciously: "Do you want to become a bishop?" I said to
him: "I am one." He said to me: Where?" I said: "(I am bishop) over the kitchens, the
shops, the tables and the pots. I am their bishop, and if there is any sharp wine I
excommunicate it, but I drink the good. Similarly, I am bishop over the pot too; and if
salt or any seasoning is lacking, I throw it in and season (the pot) and then I eat it.
This is my bishopric, for gluttony ordained me." [11] He said to me with a smile: "Stop
your jokes. You have to be ordained bishop, and toil much and be afflicted. If then you
would escape afflictions, depart not from the desert. For in the desert no man can ordain
you bishop." 6 So I left him and went into the desert to my accustomed place, and told
these things to the blessed fathers, who after two months went by boat and met him. But I
forgot his words, for after three years I fell ill with an illness of the spleen and
stomach. [12] I was sent by the brethren from the monastery to Alexandria, under treatment
for dropsy. The doctors advised me to betake myself from Alexandria to Palestine for the
sake of the air. For (Palestine) has light airs, such as befit our constitution. From
Palestine I came to Bithynia, and there----I know not how, whether from human zeal or from
the good pleasure of Him Who is more powerful, God would know----I was counted worthy of
the laying-on of hands, so much above my deserts, having become embroiled in the
disturbance connected with the blessed John. [13] And for eleven months hidden in a gloomy
cell I remembered that blessed man, that he had foretold these things which I endured. And
indeed he told me this, designing by his tale to lead me to endure the desert. "Forty
years have I spent in the cell. I have not seen the face of woman nor the appearance of
money. I have seen no one chewing, nor has any one seen me eating or drinking."

7 [14] When Poemenia the servant of God came to interview him, he did not meet her, but he
had a number of secret matters told to her. And he enjoined her, when she went down from
the Thebaid not to turn aside to Alexandria, "for you will fall into temptation." But she,
thinking differently, or forgetting, turned aside to Alexandria to see the city. But on
the way she moored her boats near Niciopolis to rest. [15] So her servants went on shore
and after some disorderly behaviour had a fight with the people of the place, who were
desperate characters. They cut off the finger of one eunuch and murdered another, and even
threw Dionysius the most holy bishop into the river, not recognizing him, and after
wounding all the other servants, loaded the lady herself with insults and threats.

CHAPTER XXXVI. -- POSIDONIUS

1 [1] THE stories about Posidonius the Theban are many and hard to relate, how meek he was
and how exceedingly ascetic, and what great innocence of soul he possessed----I do not
know if I have met any such. For I lived with him at Bethlehem for one year when he dwelt
beyond Poemenion, and I beheld his many virtues. [2] Among other things he himself told me
this one day: "Living for a year in the Porphyrites district, the whole year I met no man,
heard no talk, touched no bread. I merely subsisted on a few dates and any wild herbs I
found. This happened one day. My food failing, I went out from the cave to go back to the
world. [3] And having walked all the day with difficulty did I get two miles from the
cave. Well, looking round I saw a horseman with the appearance of a soldier, having on his
head a helmet in the shape of a tiara. And expecting him to be a soldier, I ran to the
cave and found (on the way) a basket of grapes and newly-picked figs. I picked it up and
went to the cave overjoyed, and had that food as my comfort for two months. [4] And this
was the miracle he did in Bethlehem. A certain woman approaching her confinement had an
unclean spirit and, when she was actually about to be delivered, she had difficult labour,
the spirit tormenting her.

2 The husband, therefore, since his wife was suffering from the demon, came and besought
that holy man to come. So he stood up----we were present, having come at the same time to
pray----and prayed, and after kneeling down for the second time he drove out the spirit.
[5] So he stood up and said to us: "Pray, for at this moment the unclean spirit is going
out, and there should be a sign, that we may be convinced. So the demon on his way out of
her threw down the whole wall of the precincts, foundations and all. Now the woman had
been six years without speech. After the demon had gone out she gave birth to a child and
spoke. 3 [6] I knew also the following prophecy spoken by this man. A certain Jerome, a
priest, distinguished Latin writer and cultivated scholar as he was, showed qualities of
temper so disastrous that they threw into the shade his splendid achievements. Well,
Posidonius, who had lived with him many days, said in my ear: "The noble Paula, who looks
after him, will die first and be freed from his bad temper, so I think. [7] And because of
this man no holy man will dwell in these parts, but his envy will include even his own
brother." The thing happened as he said. For, in fact, he drove out the blessed
Oxyperentius the Italian, and another man Peter, an Egyptian, and Simeon, admirable men,
whom I noticed with approval at the time. This Posidonius told me that he had not tried
bread for forty years, nor indeed had he borne malice for half a day.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK)
===========================

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK) continued

CHAPTER XXXVII. -- SARAPION THE SINDONITE

1 [1] THERE was another monk, Sarapion, and he was surnamed the Sindonite, for apart from
a sindon (loincloth) he never wore clothes. He practised great detachment from possessions
and, being well educated, knew all the Scriptures by heart. And through his great
detachment and his meditation on the Scriptures he was unable to remain calmly in the
cell; not because he was distracted by material things, yet none the less he travelled up
and down the world and perfected this type of asceticism. For he was born with this
nature; for there are differences of natures, not of substances. 2 [2] The fathers used to
relate how, taking an ascetic as his accomplice, he sold himself to some Greek actors in a
certain city for twenty pieces of money. And having sealed up the money he kept it on his
person. Then he stayed a long while and served as slave to the actors who had bought him,
until he both made them Christians and induced them to leave the stage. All the time he
took nothing except bread and water, nor did his lips rest from expounding the Scriptures.
[3] After a long period, first the man was stricken with compunction, then the actress,
then the whole house. But it was said that as long as they did not know him he washed the
feet of them both. So both were baptized and gave up the stage, and applying themselves to
an honourable and pious life they revered the man exceedingly and said to him: "Here,
brother, let us free you, since you yourself have freed us from disgraceful slavery." He
said to them: "Since God has wrought this, and your soul is saved, let me tell you the
mystery of my conduct. [4] I pitied your soul, being myself an ascetic, a free man, an
Egyptian by race, and I sold myself for this reason, that I might save you. But since God
has done this, and your soul has been saved through my humiliation, take back your money,
that I may go away and help others." But they used many entreaties and assured him: "We
will have you as father and master, only stay with us." But they could not persuade him.
Then they said to him: "Give the money to the poor, for it has been our first payment for
salvation; but come and see us, if only once a year."

3 [5] In the course of his incessant wanderings he came to Greece, and during a three
days' stay at Athens no one thought fit to give him bread; he carried no money, no purse,
no sheep-skin coat----nothing of the kind. So when the fourth day came he was very hungry;
for hunger unwillingly endured is terrible, if it has an ally in the fact that no one
believes you. And standing on an eminence in the city, where the authorities were
collecting, he began to lament violently, clapping his hands, and to call out: "Men of
Athens, help!" [6] And all ran to him, wearers of the philosopher's cloak and labourer's
smock alike, and said to him: "What is the matter? Whence are you? What ails you?" Said he
to them: "By race I am an Egyptian. After I left my real country I fell in with three
usurers. And two left me having got their debt in full, with no accusation to make. But
one does not leave me." So, inquiring minutely about the usurers in order that they might
satisfy them, they asked him: "Where are they? and who are they? Who is it that troubles
you? Show him to us that we may help you." [7] Then he said to them: "From my youth
covetousness and gluttony and fornication have troubled me. From two am I freed,
covetousness and fornication; they trouble me no longer. But I cannot get free from
gluttony. For this is the fourth day that I have not eaten, and my stomach continues
troubling me and seeking its habitual debt without which I cannot live." Then certain of
the philosophers, supposing it to be acting, gave him money. And having received it he put
it down in a baker's shop, and having got one loaf he resumed his journey and left the
city at once and never more returned to it.

4 [8] Then the philosophers recognized that he was truly virtuous, and giving the baker
the price of the bread they took the piece of money. But having come to the country where
the Spartans live, he heard that one of the first men of the city was a Manichaean with
all his house, though virtuous in other respects. To him again he sold himself as he had
done at first; and within two years he induced him to forsake his heresy, and brought him
to the Church and his wife also. Then they loved him no longer as a servant, but treated
him as a true brother or father and glorified God. 5 [9] One day he flung himself into a
vessel as if he had a right to sail to Rome. The sailors, thinking that either he had paid
his fare or had the price of it in cash, received him without trouble, each thinking that
another had taken his luggage. But when they had sailed away and got 500 stades from
Alexandria the passengers began to eat about sundown, the sailors having eaten first. [10]
They saw that he did not eat the first day, and expected it was because of the voyage;
similarly on the second, third and fourth days. On the fifth day they saw him sitting
quietly while all ate and said to him: "Why are you not eating, man?" He said to them:
"Because I have nothing." So they inquired one of another: "Who received his luggage or
his fare? " [11] And when they found that no one had they began to attack him and say:
"How did you come on without paying? From what source can you give us the fare? Or from
what source can you get fed?" He said to them: "I have nothing. Pick me up and throw me
where you found me." But they would not willingly have relinquished their voyage, even for
100 gold pieces, but they wanted to get to their destination. So he remained in the ship
and found that they fed him until (they got to) Rome.

6 [12] So having come to Rome he inquired who was a great ascetic in the city, man or
woman. Among others he met also a certain Domninus, a disciple of Origen, whose bed healed
sick persons after his death. So he met him and was benefited, for he was a man of refined
manners and liberal education, and learning from him what other ascetics there were, male
or female, he was told of a certain virgin who cultivated solitude and would meet no one.
[13] And having learned where she lived he went off and said to the old woman who attended
her: "Tell the virgin, 'I must meet you, for God has sent me.' " So after waiting two or
three days at last he met her, and said to her: "Why do you remain stationary? She said to
him: "I do not remain stationary, I am on a journey. He said to her: "Where are you
journeying? Said she to him: "To God. He said to her: "Are you alive or dead? She said to
him: "I trust in God that I am dead, for no one who lives to the flesh shall make that
journey. He said to her: "Then do what I do, that you may convince me that you are dead.
She said to him: "Order me possible things, and I will do them. [14] He answered her: "All
things are possible to a dead person except impiety. Then he said to her: "Go out and
appear in public. She answered him:

7 "This is the twenty-fifth year that has passed without my appearing in public. And why
should I appear? "If you are dead to the world," said he to her, "and the world to you, it
is all the same to you whether you appear or appear not. So appear in public. She did so,
and after she had appeared outside and gone as far as a church, he said to her in the
church: "Now then, if you wish to convince me that you are dead and no longer live
pleasing men, do what I do and I shall know that you are dead. [15] Follow my example and
take off all your clothes, put them on your shoulders, go through the middle of the city
with me leading the way in this fashion. She said to him: "I should scandalize many by the
unseemliness of the thing and they would be able to say, 'She is mad and possessed by a
demon.' "He answered her: "What does it concern you if they say, 'She is mad and possessed
by a demon?' For you are dead to them. Then she said to him: "If you want anything else I
will do it; for I do not profess to have reached this stage. [16] Then he said to her:
"See then, no longer be proud of yourself as more pious than all others and dead to the
world, for I am more dead than you and show by my act that I am dead to the world;

8 for impassively and without shame I do this thing. Then having left her in humility and
broken her pride, he departed. 9 There are many other marvellous acts which he did in the
direction of impassivity. He died in the sixtieth year of his age, and was buried at Rome
itself.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. -- EVAGRIUS PONTICUS

1 [1] IT is not right to be silent about the story of the illustrious deacon Evagrius, a
man who lived in apostolic wise; rather one ought to put it into writing for the
edification of readers and the glory of the goodness of our Saviour. I have thought it
worth while to relate (the story) from the beginning, how he came to his ideal, and how
having pursued asceticism worthily he died in the desert at the age of fifty-four,
according to the words of Scripture: "In a little time he fulfilled many years." 2 [2] He
came of a Pontic family and belonged to the city of Ibora, the son of a country-bishop. He
was ordained reader by the holy Basil, the bishop of the church of Caesarea. After the
death of the holy Basil, Gregory Nazianzea the bishop, that very wise and most impassive
and highly cultured man, ordained him deacon. Then at the great synod of Constantinople he
left him to the blessed Nectarius the bishop, since he was skilled in argument against all
heresies. And he flourished in the great city, speaking with youthful zeal against every
heresy. [3] Now it happened that this man, who was held in high honour by the whole city,
was congealed by an image of the desire of a woman, as he himself told us at a later time,
when his soul was freed from such thoughts. The woman loved him in return; now she
belonged to the highest rank. So Evagrius, fearing God and respecting his own conscience,
and putting before his eyes the greatness of the shame and the malicious joy of the
heresies, prayed to God in supplication that he would put some obstacle in the way. Now
the woman was pressing and madly excited, while he, though desiring to withdraw, had no
power to, being constrained by the chains of this servitude.

3 [4] After no long time, when his prayer had succeeded but he had not experienced the
benefit of it, there appeared to him an angel vision in the shape of soldiers of the
governor, and they seized him and took him apparently to the tribunal and threw him into
the so-called custody, the men who had come to him, as it seemed, without giving a reason
having first fastened his neck and hands with iron collars and chains. But he knew in his
conscience that for the sake of the above fault he was suffering these things, and
imagined that her husband had intervened. [5] So now he was extremely anxious. Another
trial was going on and others were being put to torture for some accusation, so he
continued to be much perturbed. And the angel who brought the vision transformed himself
to represent the coming of a genuine friend and said to him, tied up as he was among forty
prisoners chained together: "Why are you retained here, my lord deacon? He said to him:
"In truth I do not know, but I have a suspicion that so-and-so the ex-governor has laid a
charge against me, impelled by an absurd jealousy. And I fear that the judge corrupted by
bribes may inflict punishment on me. [6] He said to him: "If you will listen to your
friend, it is not expedient for you to stay in this city. Evagrius said to him:

4 "If God will release me from this misfortune and you see me in Constantinople (any
more), know that I shall suffer this punishment justly. He said to him: "Let me bring the
gospel, and swear to me by it that you will leave this city and care for your soul, and I
will free you from this durance. [7] So he brought the gospel and he swore to him by the
gospel: "Except for one day, to give me time to put my clothes on board, I certainly will
not remain. So when the oath had been produced, he came back out of the trance which had
come on him in the night; and he arose and argued with himself: "Even if the oath was in a
trance, nevertheless I did take it. So having put all his belongings into the ship he went
to Jerusalem. [8] And there he was received by the blessed Melania, the Roman lady. But
once again the devil hardened his heart, as he did Pharaoh's, and since he was young and
vigorous doubts beset him, and he hesitated, saying nothing to any one, and changing his
clothes and his habit of speech back to his old ways,vain-glory stupefying him. But God
Who wards off destruction from us all involved him in a bout of fever, and after that in a
long illness lasting six months, drying up his flesh, the source of his trouble.

5 [9] But when the physicians were at a loss and could find no way of cure, the blessed
Melania said to him: "Son, your long illness does not please me. Tell me therefore what
are your thoughts. For this illness of yours is not without God. Then he confessed to her
the whole matter. But she said to him: "Give me your word before the Lord that you will
keep to the mark of the monastic life; and, sinner though I am, I will pray that you may
be granted a furlough of life. And he consented. So within a few days he got well, and he
arose and received a change of clothes at the hands of the lady herself and went away and
exiled himself in the mount of Nitria which is in Egypt. 6 [10] Having lived there two
years, in the third year he entered the desert. So he lived fourteen years in the place
they call Cellia, and he used to eat a pound of bread, and in three months a pint of oil,
though he was a man who had come from a luxurious and refined and voluptuous life. And he
made 100 prayers; and he wrote during the year only the value of what he ate----for he
wrote the Oxyrhyncus characters excellently. So in the course of fifteen years having
purified his mind to the utmost he was counted worthy of the gift of knowledge and wisdom
and the discerning of spirits. So he composed three holy books for monks, called
Antirrhetica, in which he taught the arts to be used against demons. [14] The demon of
fornication troubled him grievously, as indeed he told us himself. And all night long he
stood naked in the well, though it was winter, so that his flesh was frozen. On another
occasion again the spirit of blasphemy troubled him. And for forty days he did not enter
under a roof, as he told us himself, so that his body threw out ticks, like the bodies of
irrational animals. Three demons attacked him by day disguised as clerics, questioning him
on the faith. And one said he was an Arian, the other an Eunomian, the third an
Apollinarian; and he vanquished these in his wisdom by means of a few words.

7 [12] Again one day, the key of the church having been lost, having made the sign over
the front of the lock and pushed with his hand, he opened it, after first calling upon
Christ. So many castigations did he receive from demons and so great trial of them did he
have that there is no counting the occasions. And to one of his disciples he told the
things that would happen to him after eighteen years, having prophesied all to him in a
vision (of the future). And he said: "From the time that I took to the desert, I have not
touched lettuce nor any other green vegetable, nor any fruit, nor grapes, nor meat, nor a
bath. [13] And later, in the sixteenth year of his life without cooked food, his flesh
felt a need, owing to the weakness of the stomach, to partake of (something that had been)
on the fire; he did not however take bread even now, but having fed on herbs or gruel or
pulse for two years, in this regime he died, after communicating in church at Epiphany.
Shortly before his death he told us: "For three years I have not been troubled by fleshly
desire----after so long a life and toil and labour and ceaseless prayer. He was told of
the death of his father, and said to his informant: "Cease blaspheming, for my father is
immortal."

CHAPTER XXXIX. -- PIOR

1 [1] PIOR, a young Egyptian, having renounced the world, left his father's house and in
an excess of zeal gave his word to God that he would never see any of his relations again.
Fifty years after his sister, now an old woman, having heard that he was alive seemed
likely to go out of her mind if she could not see him. But being unable to go to the great
desert she besought the bishop of the district to write to the fathers in the desert that
they should send him and she might see him. So, considerable pressure having been brought
to bear on him, he decided to take one other with him and go. [2] And he announced at his
sister's house: "Your brother Pior has come." So standing outside and perceiving from the
creaking of the door that the old woman came out to meet him, he closed his eyes and
called to her: "Ho! What's-your-name, I am Pior your brother, I am he. Look at me as much
as you want." So she was convinced and glorified God, and having failed to persuade him to
enter her house she returned to her dwelling. But he having offered a prayer on the
doorstep exiled himself again in the desert.

2 [3] Now this miracle is told of him, that he dug in the place where he lived and found
some very bitter water. And until he died he remained there, accepting the bitterness of
the water in order to show his endurance. Many of the monks therefore after his death
tried to rival him by dwelling in his cell, but they could not complete a year; for the
place is terrible and inconsolably dreary. [4] Moses the Libyan, a man of exceedingly
gentle disposition and very affectionate, was counted worthy of the gift of healings. He
told me this: "When I was a young man in the monastery we dug a very big pit, twenty feet
broad. In this eighty of us excavated for three days and we got a cubit further than the
vein where we generally found water and expected it (in this case), but found none. So
very much disheartened we were contemplating the abandonment of the work. Then Pior
appeared from the great desert at the sixth hour, (the time) of burning heat, an old man
clad in a sheep-skin coat, and greeted us and said after the greeting: "Why have you lost
heart, men of little faith? For I have seen you since yesterday losing heart." [5] And
having descended by a ladder to the cavity of the well he said a prayer with them, and
having taken the pick he said after striking the third blow: "O God of the holy
patriarchs, make not the toil of thy servants useless, but send them the water they need."
And immediately water sprang out so that they were wetted all over. So he prayed once more
and went off. They tried to make him eat, but he would not suffer them, saying: "That for
which I was sent is accomplished; for this I was not sent."

CHAPTER XL. -- EPHRAIM

1 [1] You must have heard particulars about Ephraim, the deacon of the Church of Edessa;
for he is one of those who deserve to be remembered by religious people. Having completed
in worthy fashion the journey of the Spirit, without being diverted from the straight
road, he was counted worthy of the grace of natural knowledge, and afterwards of the
knowledge of God1 and final blessedness. So having always practised the quiet life and for
many years continuing to edify his visitors, at last he left his cell, for the following
reason. [2] A great famine having come upon the city of Edessa, he felt compassion for the
whole country-side, which was being destroyed, and approached those who were rich in
material things and said to them: "Why do you not take pity on human nature being
destroyed, instead of letting your wealth be corrupted for the condemnation of your souls?
They considered the matter and said to him: "We have no one whom we can trust to minister
to the famine-stricken. For all are dishonest in business affairs. He said to them: "What
do you think of me? Now he had a great reputation among all, not falsely but truly. [3]
They said to him: "We know you to be a man of God. "Then trust me," he said. "See, on your
behalf I appoint myself hospitaller.

2 And he raised money, and partitioned the porticoes and made up some 300 beds, and so
nursed the sufferers from the famine, burying those who succumbed and treating those who
had hope of life, and in a word out of the funds entrusted to him provided day by day
hospitality and assistance for all the inhabitants. [4] So when the year was completed and
prosperity returned and all went home, no longer having anything to do he entered his own
cell and died after a month, God having provided him this opportunity of gaining a crown
just before his end. Also he left some writings, most of which deserve to be studied.

CHAPTER XLI. -- HOLY WOMEN

1 [1] IT is necessary also to mention in my book certain women with manly qualities, to
whom God apportioned labours equal to those of men, lest any should pretend that women are
too feeble to practise virtue perfectly. Now I have seen many such and met many
distinguished virgins and widows. [ [2] Among them was the Roman lady Paula, mother of
Toxotius, a woman of great distinction in the spiritual life. She was hindered by a
certain Jerome from Dalmatia. For though she was able to surpass all, having great
abilities, he hindered her by his jealousy, having induced her to serve his own plan. She
has a daughter now living an ascetic life at Bethlehem, Eustochium by name. I have never
met her, but she is said to be very chaste, and she has a convent of fifty virgins; 2 [3]
I knew also Veneria, wife of Vallovicus the count, who gallantly distributed her camel's
burden and was delivered from the wounds which property inflicts. And Theodora the wife of
the tribune, who reached such a depth of poverty that she became a recipient of alms and
finally died in the monastery of Hesychas near the sea. I knew a lady named Hosia, in
every respect most venerable; and her sister Adolia, who lived in a way not indeed
comparable to her, but proportionately to her own capacity. [4] I knew also Basianilla,
the wife of Candidianus the general, who practised virtue ardently and scrupulously, and
is still even now strenuously engaged in contests. Also the virgin Photina, venerable in
the extreme, daughter of Theoctistus the priest near Laodicea. Again, I met in Antioch a
most venerable lady who conversed familiarly with God, the deaconess Sabaniana, aunt of
John the bishop of Constantinople. And I saw also in Rome the beautiful Asella, the virgin
who had grown old in the monastery, a very gentle lady and a supporter of convents. [5]
There also I saw men and women recently instructed. I saw also Avita, who was worthy of
God, with her husband Apronianus and their daughter Eunomia, all so desirous to please God
that they were publicly converted to the life of virtue and continence, and were held
worthy on this account to fall asleep in Christ freed from all sin, having become
possessed of knowledge and leaving their life in good remembrance.]

CHAPTER XLII. -- JULIAN

[I HAVE heard of a certain Julian in the region of Edessa, a very ascetic man, who wore
away his flesh till it was so thin that he carried about only skin and bone. At the very
end of his life he was counted worthy of the honour of the gift of healing.]

CHAPTER XLIII. -- ADOLIUS

[1] AGAIN, I knew a man at Jerusalem named Adolius, a Tarsian by origin, who having come
to Jerusalem followed eagerly the untrodden road, not that on which most of us walked, but
carving out for himself a strange mode of life. For his asceticism was superhuman, so that
the very demons, trembling at his austerity, dared not approach him. For by reason of his
excessive abstinence and his vigils he was even suspected of being a phantom. [2] For in
Lent he would eat at intervals of five days, and the whole rest of the time every other
day. But his greatest act of asceticism was this. From evening until the time when the
brotherhood began to assemble again in their houses of prayer he would continue on his
feet singing psalms and praying, on the Mount of Olives, the hill of the Ascension whence
Jesus was taken up; and whether it snowed or rained or there was a white frost he remained
undaunted. [3] So having completed his accustomed time he knocked at the cells of all the
monks with his little waking-up knocker, collecting them into the houses of prayer and in
each house singing one or two psalms with them antiphonally and praying with them. Then he
went away to his own cell before daybreak, so that of a truth the brethren often had to
undress him and wring out his clothes as if after the wash, and put other clothes on him.
So then, after resting until the hour of psalmody, he applied himself (to worship) until
evening. And so this was the virtue of Adolius the Tarsian, who reached perfection in
Jerusalem and died there.

CHAPTER XLIV. -- INNOCENT

1 [1] You have heard from many the story of the blessed Innocent, the priest of the Mount
of Olives, but none the less you will hear it also from us who lived with him for three
years. He was simple to an excess. Having been one of the dignitaries of the palace in the
early days of the Emperor Constantius, he renounced the world, leaving his marriage, by
which he had also a son, Paul by name, of the imperial bodyguard. [2] When the latter had
sinned with the daughter of a priest, Innocent cursed his own son, beseeching God and
saying: "Lord, give him such a spirit that his flesh may no longer find opportunity to
sin"----thinking it better that he should struggle with a demon than with incontinence,
which actually happened. At this present moment he is still on the Mount of Olives,
wearing irons and chastised by the spirit. [3] How compassionate indeed this Innocent was,
so that often he himself stole from the brethren and gave to the needy----I shall seem to
be talking nonsense if I tell the truth. And he was exceedingly innocent and simple, and
was counted worthy of the gift (of power) over demons. As an example of this: Once a young
man was brought to him before our eyes taken by a spirit and by paralysis, so that I,
having seen him, wished publicly to repel the mother of the man who had been brought,
since I despaired of his cure.

2 [4] Well, it happened in the meantime that the old man having come up saw her standing
and weeping and lamenting over the unspeakable misfortune of her son. So the good old man
wept and, moved with compassion, took the young man and entered into his oratory, which he
had built with his own hands, and in which relics of John the Baptist were laid. And
having prayed over him from the third hour to the ninth, he restored the young man to his
mother cured that same day, having driven out both his paralysis and the demon. His
paralysis was such that the boy, when he spat, spat on his own back, so twisted was he. 3
[5] An old woman having lost a sheep came to him in tears. And having followed her he
said: "Show me the place where you lost it." She led him to the neighbourhood of the tomb
of Lazarus. He stood and prayed. But the young men who had stolen it anticipated him by
killing it. So while he prayed, no one confessing and the meat lying hidden in the
vineyard, a crow came from somewhere and hovered over the place, took a morsel and flew
off again. And the blessed one having marked the place found the slain animal, and so the
young men who had killed it fell at his feet and confessed and paid, when asked, the
proper price of the sheep.

CHAPTER XLV. -- PHILOROMUS

1 [[1] We met in Galatia the priest Philoromus, a most ascetic and enduring man, and
stayed with him a long time. His mother was a maidservant, his father a free man. But he
showed such nobility in the Christlike mode of life that even those whose family record
was unsurpassable revered his life and virtue. He renounced the world in the days of
Julian the infamous Emperor, and spoke to him with boldness. Julian ordered him to be
shaved and buffeted by boys. He endured the ordeal patiently and expressed his thanks to
Julian, as he told us himself. [2] In his early days war against fornication and gluttony
was his lot. He drove out these passions by shutting himself up and wearing irons, and by
abstinence from corn-bread and all things cooked by fire. After persevering in this course
for eighteen years he sang the hymn of triumph to Christ. Attacked in divers ways by the
spirits of wickedness, he abode in one monastery for forty years. He told us this: "For
thirty-two years I touched no fruit. Once when timidity attacked him, in order to get rid
of it, he shut himself up in a tomb for six years. [3] The blessed Basil, the bishop, took
great care of him, rejoicing in his austerity and firmness. Even now he has not renounced
the pen and the writing sheet, though perhaps in his eightieth year. He said:

2 "From the time that I was initiated and born again until to-day, I have never eaten
another's bread for nothing, but always as the result of my own labours. (Speaking) as in
the presence of God, he convinced us that he had given to the cripples 250 pieces of money
earned by the work of his hands, and had never wronged anyone. [4] He went on foot even as
far as Rome itself to pray at the martyr-chapel of the blessed Peter. He went also as far
as Alexandria, to pray at the martyr-chapel of Mark. Then he came also a second time to
Jerusalem, having gone on his own feet and defrayed his own expenses. And he said this: "I
do not remember that I was ever absent in mind from my God."]

CHAPTER XLVI. -- MELANIA THE ELDER

1 [1] THE thrice-blessed Melania was a Spaniard by origin, but afterwards belonged to
Rome. She was the daughter of Marcellinus the ex-consul, and wife of a certain man of high
official rank, whom I do not quite remember. Having become a widow at twenty-two, she was
favoured with the divine love, and having said nothing to any one----for she would have
been prevented----in the time when Valens had the rule in the empire, she had a guardian
nominated for her son and took all her movable property and put it on a ship; then she
sailed with all speed to Alexandria, accompanied by various highborn women and children.
[2] After that, having sold her goods and turned them into money, she went to the mountain
of Nitria, where she met the following fathers and their companions----Pambo, Arsisius,
Sarapion the Great, Paphnutius of Scete, Isidore the Confessor, bishop of Hermopolis, and
Dioscorus. And she sojourned with them for half a year, travelling about in the desert and
visiting all the saints. [3] But after this, when the prefect of Alexandria banished
Isidore, Pisimius, Adelphius, Paphnutius and Pambo, with them also Ammonius Parotes, and
twelve bishops and priests, to Palestine in the neighbourhood of Diocaesarea, she followed
them and ministered to them from her own money. But, servants being forbidden them, so
they told me----for I met the holy Pisimius and Isidore and Paphnutius and Ammonius----
wearing the dress of a young slave she brought them in the evenings what they required.

2 But the consular of Palestine got to know of it, and wishing to fill his pocket thought
he would terrify her. [4] And having arrested her he threw her into prison, ignorant that
she was a lady. But she told him: "For my part, I am So-and-So's daughter and So-and-So's
wife, but I am Christ's slave. And do not despise the cheapness of my clothing. For I am
able to exalt myself if I like, and you cannot terrify me in this way or take any of my
goods. So then I have told you this, lest through ignorance you should incur judicial
accusations. For one must in dealing with insensate folk be as audacious as a hawk. Then
the judge, recognizing the situation, both made an apology and honoured her, and gave
orders that she should succour the saints without hindrance. 3 [5] After they were
recalled she founded a monastery in Jerusalem, and spent twenty-seven years there in
charge of a convent of fifty virgins. With her lived also the most noble Rufinus, from
Italy, of the city of Aquileia, a man similar to her in character and very stedfast, who
was afterwards judged worthy of the priesthood. A more learned man or a kinder than he was
not to be found among men. [6] So these two during twenty-seven years receiving at their
own charges those who visited Jerusalem in pursuance of a vow, bishops and monks and
virgins, edified all who visited them, and they reconciled the schism of Paulinus, some
400 monks in all, and winning over every heretic that denied the Holy Spirit they brought
him to the Church; and they honoured the clergy of the district with gifts and food, and
so continued to the end, without offending anyone.

CHAPTER XLVII. -- CHRONIUS AND PAPHNUTIUS

1 [1] A CERTAIN man named Chronius of the village called Phoenice, having measured off
from his own village, which was near the desert, 15000 steps counted with his right foot,
dug a well there after prayer; and having found very good water forty-two feet away, built
himself there a little dwelling. And from the day that he installed himself in this abode
he prayed to God that he might never return to an inhabited place. [2] But when a few
years had passed he was counted worthy of the priesthood, a brotherhood of some 200 men
having collected round him. Now this meritorious feature of his asceticism is told, that
having officiated at the altar for sixty years, exercising his priesthood, he did not
leave the desert and never ate bread that came from any source but the work of his own
hands. 2 With him dwelt one Jacob, who belonged to the neighbourhood, surnamed the Lame,
an exceedingly learned man. Now both were known to the blessed Antony. [3] Now one day
they were joined by Paphnutius, surnamed Kephalas, who had the gift of knowledge of the
divine Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, interpreting it all without having read
the Scriptures, but he was so modest that his prophetic virtue was concealed. It is told
of him that during eighty years he never wore two tunics together. The blessed Evagrius
and Albanius and I when we met these men sought to know the causes of brothers falling
away or backsliding or stumbling in the proper life. [4] For it happened in those days
that Chaeremon the ascetic died in a sitting posture and was found dead on his chair
holding his work in his hands. And it happened also that another brother while digging a
well was swallowed up by the well; and another on his way down from Scete died from lack
of water. Then again there was the story of Stephen, who fell into disgraceful profligacy,
and of Eucarpius, and the story of Heron of Alexandria, and the story of Valens of
Palestine, and the story of Ptolemy the Egyptian who lived in Scete. [5] We asked
therefore what was the reason why the men who lived there in the desert were some of them
deceived in their mind and others shattered by lust. So this was the answer that the most
enlightened Paphnutius gave us, namely:

3 "All things that happen are divided into two, what God approves and what He allows. As
many things then as happen in accordance with virtue for the glory of God, these happen
with His approval. But as many, on the contrary, as are fraught with loss and danger and
are due to external crises or fallings away, these happen with God's permission. [6] But
the permission is given in a rational manner. For it is impossible that a man who thinks
rightly and lives rightly should succumb to snares of shame or the deceit of demons.
Consequently, all who seem to pursue virtue with a corrupt purpose, the vice of men-
pleasing or perverse imagination, these also make false steps, for God deserts them for
their benefit, in order that through their desertion they may perceive the difference that
results from their change and correct either their intention or their conduct. [7] For at
one time the will sins, when it acts with evil intent, at another time also the conduct,
when it acts corruptly or in the wrong fashion. And this indeed often happens, that the
vicious man with a corrupt purpose gives alms to girls in pursuance of an evil end, though
he does an apparently good action by giving help to her who is an orphan, a solitary, or
an ascetic.

4 But it happens also that men give alms with a right purpose to the sick or aged or those
who have lost money, but sparingly and with a grumble, and the intention is right but the
action is unworthy of the intention; for it is necessary that the merciful man show mercy
gladly and generously. [8] They said also this: "There are good qualities in many souls,
in some a natural goodness of thought, in others aptitude for asceticism. But whenever
some action is not done or natural goodness not manifested for the sake of the actual
good, and those who possess good qualities do not ascribe them to God the Giver of all
good things, but to their own free will, natural goodness and capacity, then such men are
deserted and are involved either in disgraceful conduct or experience and in shame, and by
means of the consequent humiliation and shame gradually lose the pride felt in their
pretended virtue. [9] For when the man who is puffed up with pride, pluming himself on the
natural charm of his discourse, does not ascribe to God the natural charm or even the
supply of knowledge, but to his own application or natural gifts, God withdraws from him
the angel of foreknowledge. When this angel is removed, then overpowered by the adversary
the man who plumes himself on his natural charm falls into licentiousness through his
presumption, in order that, the witness of his self-control being withdrawn, the words
spoken by such men may be no longer worthy of credit;

5 while religious men shun the teaching which proceeds from such a mouth as if it were a
fountain containing leeches, so that the Scripture is fulfilled: 'But to the sinner said
God, Why dost thou recount my judgments and takest my covenant in thy mouth?' [10] For
truly the souls of the vicious are like diverse fountains. The gluttonous and wine-lovers
are like muddy fountains; the covetous and greedy like fountains with frogs; others,
envious and haughty but with an aptitude for knowledge, are like fountains which cherish
serpents, in which reason is always floating but no one likes to draw from them because of
the bitterness of their character. This is why David demanded three things in his prayer,
'goodness and discipline and knowledge.' For without goodness knowledge is not good. [11]
And if such a man corrects himself, putting away the cause of his abandonment, that is,
pride, and recovers humility and recognizes his own measure, not exalting himself against
anyone, and thanking God, then knowledge attested by proof returns to him. For spiritual
words which do not have as an escort a sober and disciplined life are like ears of com
blasted by the wind; they have the outward appearance (of corn) but have been robbed of
their nutritive value. [12] Therefore every fall, whether by the tongue, or by perception,
or by action, or by the whole body, tends to produce abandonment in proportion to the
presumption, though God spares those who are abandoned.

6 For if, in the midst of their vice, the Lord will bear witness to their natural grace by
providing them with eloquence, arrogance turns them into demons, puffed up with
uncleanness." 7 [13] And those men told us this too: "When you see a man irregular in his
life but plausible in speech, remember the demon who conversed with Christ using the words
of Scripture, and the witness which says: 'Now the serpent was the most subtle of all the
beasts on the earth.' In his case intelligence has the rather resulted in harm, since no
other virtue accompanied it. For the faithful and good man must think the thoughts which
God gives and say what he thinks and do what he says. [14] For if the relationships of a
man's life do not accord with the truth of his words, he is, as Job says, like bread
without salt which will in no case be eaten, or, if eaten, will make those who eat it ill.
'Shall bread be eaten without salt?' he says. 'And is there any taste in vain words,'
which are not fulfilled by the witness of the works? Now these are the causes of the
abandonings: in one case because of hidden virtue, that it may be revealed, as was Job's,
God speaking to him and saying: 'Reject not My judgment, nor think that I have spoken to
thee for any other reason than that thou mightest be shown to be righteous. [15] For thou
wast known to Me who see secret things;

8 but when thou wast unknown to men, people supposing that thou wast serving Me because of
wealth, I brought on the disaster, I cut off the wealth, that I might show them thy
philosophy of gratitude.' In other cases it is to avert pride as with Paul. For Paul was
abandoned, being tossed about in misfortunes and buffetings and divers afflictions, and he
said: ' There was given me a thorn in the flesh, an angel of Satan to buffet me, lest I
should be exalted.' [16] Lest perhaps in the midst of his marvellous works both the repose
and the prosperity and the honour which accrued to him might cast him gaping with vanity
into diabolical pride. The paralytic was abandoned because of sins, as Jesus says: 'See,
thou are made whole, sin no more.' Judas was abandoned, because he loved money more than
the word, wherefore also he hanged himself. Esau also was abandoned and fell into
dissolute conduct, preferring the grossness of entrails to his father's blessing.

9 [17] So that considering all these things Paul said concerning some: 'As they refused to
have God in their knowledge, God gave them up unto a reprobate mind, to do things which
are not fitting.' And concerning certain others who seem to have the knowledge of God with
a corrupt mind: 'Since knowing God, they glorified Him not as God, neither gave Him
thanks, for this cause God gave them up unto vile passions.' So that from these instances
we know that it is impossible that any should fall into dissolute conduct unless he has
first been abandoned by God's Providence."

CHAPTER XLVIII. -- ELPIDIUS

1 [1] IN the caves of the Amorites round about Jericho, which they excavated long ago when
they fled from Joshua the son of Nun, who was ravaging then the aliens on the mountain of
Doukas, there lived a certain Elpidius, a Cappadocian, afterwards counted worthy of the
priesthood. Having been a member of the monastery of Timothy, the Cappadocian country-
bishop, a very able man, he came and settled in one of the caves. He showed such self-
discipline in his asceticism as to put all others in the shade. [2] For during his twenty-
five years' life there he used to take food only on Sunday and Saturday and would spend
the nights standing up and singing psalms. With him, (reigning) like a little king in the
midst of his bees, lived the multitude of the brethren, and I too lived with him, and thus
he made the mountain a veritable city. And one could see there different modes of life.
Once a scorpion stung this Elpidius as he sang psalms by night and we too were singing
with him. Fie trod it underfoot, nor did he even move from his standing position,
despising the pain caused by the scorpion. [3] One day, as a brother was holding a vine-
cutting, he took it as he sat at the declivity of the mountain and dug a hole for it as if
planting it, though it was not the season. It grew big and became a vine large enough to
give shade to the church.

2 In his company also a certain Aenesius reached perfection, a worthy man, and so did
Eustathius his brother. To such a height of impassivity did he attain in drying up his
body that the sun shone through his bones. [4] The story is told by his zealous disciples
that he never turned (to gaze) towards the west because the mountain with its height
dominated the door of the cave. Nor did he ever see the sun after the sixth hour, having
passed overhead and now descending towards the west, or even the stars that rise in the
west, for twenty-five years. From the time he entered the cave he did not descend from the
mountain until he was buried.

CHAPTER XLIX. -- SISINNIUS

[ [1] THIS Elpidius had a disciple, by name Sisinnius, of servile origin, but a free man
as regards the faith, a Cappadocian by race. For one must point out these things for the
glory of Christ, Who ennobles us and leads us to the true nobility. After dwelling with
Elpidius six or seven years finally he shut himself up in a tomb and continued for three
years in a tomb, praying constantly, sitting down neither by night nor day, neither lying
down nor walking out. He was counted worthy of a gift (of power) over demons. [2] But
having returned to his native country he was counted worthy of the priesthood, and
collected a community of men and women. By his grave manner of life he drove out whatever
masculine lusts there were in himself, and by self-discipline he curbed the feminine
element in the women, so that the words of Scripture were fulfilled: " In Christ Jesus
there is neither male nor female." Then also he is hospitable, although without
possessions, so as to shame the rich men who are not generous.]

CHAPTER L. -- GADDANAS

I KNEW an old Palestinian named Gaddanas, who lived in the open air in the region round
the Jordan. Some Jews once set about him in a fanatic outburst, in the region round the
Dead Sea, and came against him with sword drawn. And this incident occurred. When a man
lifted up his sword and wished to use it against Gaddanas, the hand of him who had drawn
it was withered up, and the sword fell from the hand of its wielder.

CHAPTER LI. -- ELIAS

THEN again Elias, a monk, dwelt in the same parts in a cave, living a life most grave and
disciplined. One day when a number of brethren had come to him, for the place was on the
main road, he ran short of bread. And he assured us: "Dismayed at what had happened, I
went into the cell and found three loaves. And the visitors having eaten of them to
satiety----they were twenty in all----one was left over, which lasted me twenty-five
days."

CHAPTER LII. -- SABAS

[A MAN named Sabas, a layman, a native of Jericho, became so enamoured of the monks that
he went the round of the cells and the desert at nights and at each habitation put outside
a bushel of dates, and a sufficiency of vegetables, because the ascetics of the Jordan do
not eat bread. One day a lion met him and, talcing him by surprise, chased him for a mile
and then turned back, took his ass and went off.]

CHAPTER LIII. -- ABRAMIUS

THERE was a certain Abramius, an Egyptian by race, who lived a very rough and savage life
in the wilderness. Afflicted in his mind by an untimely fancy, he went to the church and
contended with the priests, saying: "I have been ordained a priest by Christ this night,
accept me as a celebrant." The fathers removed him from the desert and led him to a less
ascetic and calmer life, and cured him of his presumption, bringing this man who had been
deluded by the demon to a knowledge of his own weakness.

CHAPTER LIV. -- THE ELDER MELANIA

1 [1] THOUGH I have told above in a superficial way of the wonderful and saintly Melania,
nevertheless I will now weave into my narrative at this point what remains to be said.
What stores of goods she used up in her divine zeal, as it were burning them in a fire, is
not for me to dwell on, but for those who dwell in Persia. For no one escaped her
benevolence, neither East nor West nor North nor South. [2] For thirty-seven years she had
been giving hospitality, and at her own costs had succoured both churches and monasteries
and strangers and prisoners, her family and her son himself and her stewards providing the
money. She persevered so long in the practice of hospitality that she possessed not even a
span of land. She was not drawn (from her purpose) by desire for her son, nor did yearning
after her only son separate her from love towards Christ. [3] But thanks to her prayers
the young man attained a high standard of edu-ation and a good character and an
illustrious marriage, and participated in the honours of the world; he had also two
children. A long while after, hearing how her granddaughter was situated, that she was
married and was proposing to renounce the world, afraid lest they should be injured by bad
teaching or heresy or evil living, though an old woman of sixty years, she flung herself
into a ship and sailing from Caesarea reached Rome in twenty days.

2 [4] And having met there that most blessed and worthy man Apronianus, a pagan, she
instructed him and made him a Christian, persuading him to be continent as regards his
wife, Melania's niece named Avita. And having also strengthened the will of her own
granddaughter Melania, with her husband Pinianus, and instructed her daughter-in-law
Albina, wife of her son, and having induced all these to sell their goods, she led them
out from Rome and brought them into the holy and calm harbour of the (religious) life. And
in so doing she fought with beasts in the shape of all the senators and their wives who
tried to prevent her, in view of (similar) renunciation of the world on the part of the
other (senatorial) houses. But she said to them: "Little children, it was written 400
years ago, It is the last hour. Why do you love to linger in life's vanities? Perchance
the days of antichrist will surprise you, and you will cease to enjoy your wealth and your
ancestral property. [6] And having liberated all these she led them to the monastic life.
And after instructing the younger son of Publicola she brought him to Sicily, and having
sold all her remaining goods and received their value, she came to Jerusalem. Then, having
got rid of her possessions, within forty days she fell asleep in a good old age and
profound meekness, leaving behind both a monastery in Jerusalem and an endowment for it.

3 [7] But when all these persons had left Rome there fell on Rome a hurricane of
barbarians, which was ordained long ago in prophecies, and it did not spare even the
bronze statues in the Forum, but sacking them all with barbaric frenzy delivered them to
destruction, so that Rome, which had been beautified by loving hands for 1200 years,
became a ruin. Then those who had been instructed (by Melania) and those who had opposed
her instruction glorified God, Who had persuaded the unbelievers by a reversal of fortune,
in that, when all the other families had been made prisoners, these ones only were
preserved, having been made by Melania's zeal burnt-offerings to the Lord.

CHAPTER LV. -- SILVANIA (MELANIA CONTINUED)

1 [1] IT so happened that we travelled together from Aelia to Egypt, escorting the blessed
Silvania the virgin, sister-in-law of Rufinus the ex-prefect. Among the party there was
Jovinus also with us, then a deacon, but now bishop of the church of Ascalon, a devout and
learned man. We came into an intense heat and, when we reached Pelusium, it chanced that
Jovinus took a basin and gave his hands and feet a thorough wash in ice-cold water, and
after washing flung a rug on the ground and lay down to rest. [2] She came to him like a
wise mother of a true son and began to scoff at his softness, saying: "How dare you at
your age, when your blood is still vigorous, thus coddle your flesh, not perceiving the
mischief that is engendered by it? Be sure of this, be sure of it, that I am in the
sixtieth year of my life and except for the tips of my fingers neither my feet nor my face
nor any one of my limbs have touched water, although I am a victim to various ailments and
the doctors try to force me. I have not consented to make the customary concessions to the
flesh, never in my travels have I rested on a bed or used a litter."

2 [3] Being very learned and loving literature she turned night into day by perusing every
writing of the ancient commentators, including 3,000,000 (lines) of Origen and 2,500,000
(lines) of Gregory, Stephen, Pierius, Basil, and other standard writers. Nor did she read
them once only and casually, but she laboriously went through each book seven or eight
times. Wherefore also she was enabled to be freed from knowledge falsely so called and to
fly on wings, thanks to the grace of these books; elevated by kindly hopes she made
herself a spiritual bird and journeyed to Christ.

CHAPTER LVI. -- OLYMPIAS

[1] THAT most venerable and devoted lady Olympias followed the counsel of Melania,
attending to her precepts and walking in her footsteps. She was the daughter of Seleucus
the ex-count, grand-daughter of Ablavius the ex-prefect, and bride for a few days of
Nebridius, the ex-prefect of the city, but the wife of no man. For she is said to have
died a virgin, but the spouse of the Word of Truth. [2] She dispersed all her goods and
gave to the poor. She engaged in no mean combats for truth's sake, instructed many women,
addressed priests reverently, and honoured bishops; she was accounted worthy to be a
confessor for truth's sake. The inhabitants of Constantinople reckon her life among the
confessors, for she died thus and went away to the Lord in the midst of her struggles for
God's honour.

CHAPTER LVII. -- CANDIDA

1 [1] ATTENDING to her precepts and imitating her like a mirror, the blessed Candida,
daughter of Trajan the general, lived a worthy life and attained to the height of
sanctity, paying honours both to churches and bishops. Having instructed her own daughter
for the condition of virginity she brought her to Christ as a gift of her own body,
afterwards following her own daughter in temperance and chastity and the distribution of
her goods. [2] I knew her labour all night long with her hands at the mill to subdue her
body; and she used to say: "Fasting is insufficient; I give it an ally in the shape of
toilsome watching, that I may destroy the insolence of Esau." She abstained absolutely
from anything with blood and life in it, but taking fish and vegetables with oil on feast
days, at other times she continued to content herself with a mixture of sour wine and dry
bread.

2 [3] In emulation of her example the most venerable lady Gelasia, a tribune's daughter,
walked in the path of religion, having put on the yoke of virginity. Her virtue is
renowned in that the sun never went down on her irritation against man-servant or maid-
servant or any one else.

CHAPTER LVIII. -- THE MONKS OF ANTINOË

1 [1] HAVING spent four years at Antinoë in the Thebaid, in so long a time I acquired
knowledge also of the local monasteries. For some 1200 men are settled round the city, who
live by their hands and are extremely ascetic. Reckoned among these there are also
anchorites who have shut themselves up in the caves of the rocks. One of these is a
certain Solomon, a man of very mild disposition and restrained and possessing the gift of
endurance. He used to say that he had been fifty years in the cave. He provided for
himself by the work of his hands and had learned by heart all the holy Scriptures. [2] In
another cave lived Dorotheus, a priest. He was extraordinarily good, and having himself
lived an irreproachable life was counted worthy of the priesthood, and ministered to the
brethren in the caves. To him Melania the younger, grand-daughter of the great Melania,
concerning whom I shall speak later, once sent 500 pieces of money, beseeching him to
spend them on the brethren there. But he took three only and sent the rest to Diocles the
anchorite, a most-learned man, saying: "Brother Diocles is wiser than I, and can
administer them without doing harm, knowing those who should rightly be helped. For
myself, I am content with these."

2 [3] This Diocles began in the first instance with the grammar course, but afterwards
gave himself to philosophy. However, in course of time grace drew him on, and in the
twenty-eighth year of his life he gave up the cycle of studies and gave himself up to
Christ; and he had spent thirty-five years in the caves. He told us this: "Intelligence
which is separated from the thought of God becomes either a demon or a brute beast." But
since we were curious to know his manner of speaking he explained thus: "Intelligence
separated from the thought of God inevitably falls into concupiscence or anger." And he
said concupiscence was beast-like and anger demoniacal. [4] But when I objected: "How can
human intelligence be continually with God?" this same man said: "Whenever the soul is
engaged in a thought or action that is pious and godly, then it is with God."

3 There lived near him a certain Capiton, who had been a robber. He had completed fifty
years in the caves four miles from the city of Antinoë, and did not come down from his
cave, not even as far as the river Nile, saying that he was not yet able to meet crowds
because the Adversary at that instant would oppose him. [5] With these we saw also another
anchorite, himself also (living) in a cave in similar fashion. Being mocked in dreams by
the frenzy of vainglory, he mocked in his turn those that deceived themselves, "feeding
the winds." And he possessed bodily continence thanks to his age and his long time (in the
desert), and perhaps also thanks to his vainglory. On the other hand, his judgment was
perverted owing to the unrestrained character of his vainglory.

CHAPTER LIX. -- AMMA TALIS AND TAOR

[1] IN this city of Antinoe there are twelve convents of women; in one of them I met Amma
Talis, an old woman who had spent eighty years in asceticism, as she and the neighbours
told me. With her dwelt sixty young women who loved her so greatly that no key even was
fixed on the outer wall of the monastery, as in other monasteries, but they were kept in
by love of her. Such a height of impassivity did the old woman reach that when I entered
and sat down she came and sat by me and put her hands on my shoulders in a transport of
freedom. [2] In this monastery there was a disciple of hers by name Taor, a virgin who had
been thirty years in the monastery; she would never accept a new habit or hood or shoes,
saying: "I do not need them, lest I be forced also to go out." For all the others go out
on Sunday to church for the Communion; but she remains in the house clothed in rags,
ceaselessly sitting at her work. But her looks were naturally so charming that even the
most stedfast would almost have been deceived by her beauty, if she had not had her
chastity as an exceedingly strong sentinel, and by her modesty had been compelling the
unrestrained eye to reverence and fear.

CHAPTER LX. -- COLLYTHUS

[1] ANOTHER virgin was a neighbour of mine, but I did not see her face, for she never came
out, so they say, from the day she renounced the world. But having completed sixty years
of asceticism in company with her own mother (-superior), at last she was about to depart
from this life. And the martyr of the place stood over her----Collythus was his name----
and said to her: "Today you are going to travel to the Master and see all the saints. Come
then and breakfast with us in the chapel."So she got up at twilight and dressed and took
in her basket bread and olives and shredded herbs, after all those years going out, and
she went to the chapel and prayed. [2] And having marked that moment of the whole day when
no one was inside, she took her seat and called on the martyr, saying: "Bless my food,
holy Collythus, and accompany me with thy prayers on the journey." Then having eaten and
prayed again she went home about sunset. And having given her mother (-superior) a writing
of Clement, author of the Stromateis, on the prophet Amos, she said: "Give it to the
exiled bishop and say to him, Pray for me, for I am going on a journey." And she died that
very night, with no fever nor pain in the head, but having decked herself for the funeral.

CHAPTER LXI. -- MELANIA THE YOUNGER

1 [1] SINCE I promised above to tell about the (grand-) daughter of Melania, I am
constrained to pay the debt, for it is not just that men should disdain her youthfulness
in respect of the flesh and leave on one side with no pillar to commemorate it such great
virtue, virtue which, frankly, far surpasses that of old and zealous women. Her parents by
using compulsion made her marry a man of the highest rank in Rome. Her conscience was
always being pricked by the tales she heard about her grandmother, and (at last) she was
so goaded that she felt unable to perform her marriage duty. [2] For, two male children
having been born to her and both having died, she came to have such great hatred of
marriage as to say to her husband Pinianus, son of Severus the ex-prefect: "If you choose
to practise asceticism with me according to the fashion of chastity, then I recognise you
as master and lord of my life. But if this appears grievous to you, being still a young
man, take all my belongings and set my body free, that I may fulfil my desire toward God
and become heir of the zeal of my grandmother, whose name I also bear. [3] For if God had
wished us to have children, He would not have taken away my children untimely.

2 After they had struggled under the yoke a long while, at last God had pity on the young
man and planted in him a zeal for renunciation, so that the word of Scripture was
fulfilled in their case: "How knowest thon, O woman, that thou shalt save thy husband? So
having been married at thirteen and having lived with her husband seven years, in the
twentieth year she renounced the world. And first she gave her silk dresses to the altars:
this the holy Olympias has also done. [4] Then she cut up her other silks and made them
into different church ornaments. And having entrusted her silver and gold to a certain
Paul, a priest, a monk of Dalmatia, she sent them across the sea to the East, 10,000
pieces of money to Egypt and the Thebaid, 10,000 pieces to Antioch and its neighbourhood,
15,000 to Palestine, 10,000 to the churches in the islands and the places of exile, while
she herself distributed to the churches in the West in the same way. [5] All this and four
times as much she snatched, if God will allow the expression, "out of the mouth of the
lion" Alaric by her faith. And she freed 8000 slaves who wished freedom, for the rest did
not wish it, but preferred to be slaves to her brother; and she allowed him to take them
all for three pieces of money.

3 But having sold her possessions in the Spains, Aquitania, Tarragonia and the Gauls, she
reserved for herself only those in Sicily and Campania and Africa and appropriated their
income for the support of monasteries. [6] Such was her wise conduct with regard to the
burden of riches. And her asceticism was as follows. She ate every other day----to begin
with after a five days' interval----and assigned to herself a part in the daily work of
her own slavewomen, whom also she made her fellow-ascetics. 4 She had with her also her
mother Albina, who lived a similar ascetic life and distributed her riches for her part
privately. Now these ladies are dwelling on their properties, now in Sicily and now in
Campania, with fifteen eunuchs and sixty virgins, both free and slave. [7] Similarly also
Pinianus her husband lives with thirty monks, reading and busying himself with the garden
and solemn conferences. But in no small way did they honour us when we, a numerous party,
went to Rome because of the blessed bishop John; they refreshed us both with hospitality
and lavish equipment for the journey, thus winning for themselves with great joy the fruit
of eternal life by their God-given works springing from a noble mode of life.

CHAPTER LXII. -- PAMMACHIUS

A KINSMAN of theirs, Pammachius by name, an ex-consul, renounced the world in like manner
and lived the perfect life. As for all his wealth, part of it he distributed while still
alive and the rest he left to the poor at his death. Similarly also there was a certain
Macarius, an ex-vicar, and Constantius, who became assessor of the prefects in Italy,
distinguished and very learned men, who reached the highest degree of the love of God. I
believe that they are still in the flesh after practising the perfect life.

CHAPTER LXIII. -- THE VIRGIN AND ATHANASIUS

1 [1] I KNEW a virgin in Alexandria whom I met when she was about seventy years old. Now
all the clergy bore her witness that when she was young, some twenty years old, and
exceptionally lovely, she was to be shunned because of her beauty, lest she should make
any one an object of blame through suspicion. So when it happened that the Arians
conspired against the blessed Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, by means of Eusebius the
prefect, when Constantius was Emperor, and they were calumniously accusing him of unlawful
deeds, he avoided being judged by a corrupt tribunal and trusted no one, neither relation
nor friend, nor cleric nor any one. [2] But when the prefect's men entered suddenly into
the episcopal residence and sought him, he fled at midnight to this virgin, wearing only
his tunic and cloak.But she was disconcerted at the affair and frightened. So he said to
her: "Since I am sought by the Arians and am unjustly accused, I resolved to flee, lest I
should bear a false reputation and involve in sin those who wish to punish me. [3] But God
revealed to me to-night: 'With no one canst thou be saved except with this lady.'" So with
great joy she cast aside all hesitation and gave herself wholly to the Lord;

2 and she hid that most holy man for six years, as long as Constantius lived, both washing
his feet herself and ministering to his bodily requirements and arranging for all his
needs, borrowing books and bringing them to him, and no man in all Alexandria during the
six years knew where the blessed Athanasius was living. [4] Now when the death of
Constantius was announced and came to his ears, he dressed himself fittingly and was found
once more by night in the church; and all were astonished and looked on him as a dead man
come to life. Now his defence to his near friends was as follows: "This is why I did not
take refuge with you, that you might the better swear (ignorance of my whereabouts), and
also because of the search. But I fled to one whom no one could suspect, because she was
beautiful and young, bearing two things in mind, her salvation----for I did help her----
and my reputation."

CHAPTER LXIV. -- JULIANA

[1] AGAIN there was a certain Juliana, a virgin of Caesarea in Cappadocia, said to be very
learned and most faithful. When Origen the writer fled from the uprising of the pagans she
received him, and supported him for two years at her own cost and waited on him. I found
this written in a very old book of verses, in which had been written by Origen's hand: [2]
"I found this book at the house of Juliana the virgin at Caesarea, when I was hidden by
her. She used to say that she had received it from Symmachus himself, the Jewish
interpreter." I have inserted the virtuous acts of these women as part of my plan, that we
may know that it is possible to gain excellence in many ways, if we desire.

CHAPTER LXV. -- HIPPOLYTUS

1 [1] IN another very old book inscribed with the name of Hippolytus, a disciple of the
apostles, I found this story. There lived in the city of Corinth a high-born and most
beautiful virgin who was practising asceticism with a view to (a vow of) virginity. As the
time for it approached, they denounced her to the pagan who was the magistrate then, at
the time of the persecutors, that is, as one who blasphemed both the times and the
emperors and spoke ill of the idols. At the same time also those who traffic in such
things were praising her beauty. [2] So the magistrate, being erotic, received the
denunciation gladly, like a horse pricking up his ears. And when after setting every
device into operation he failed to persuade the woman, then, furious with her, he did not
hand her over to punishment or torture, but put her in a brothel and commanded the man who
kept the women: "Take her, and pay me three pieces of money a day as her hire. But he, to
earn the requisite sum, intended to hand her over to all comers. So when those who hunt
women in this way like so many hawks knew of it they visited this perdition-shop, and
paying the tariff talked to her the language of seduction. [3] But she besought them with
entreaties, saying: "I have a sore which is offensive, and I fear that you will hate me;
give me a few days and you will get the chance of having me for nothing.

2 So she besought God with petitions in those days. Wherefore also God beholding her
chastity inspired a certain young man in the employ of the magister officiorum, fair in
character and appearance, with a burning zeal for martyrdom. And having gone off with all
outward appearance of lust he came late at night to the keeper of the women and gave him
five coins and said to him: "Allow me to spend this night with her. [4] So he went in to
the private chamber and said to her: "Get up, save yourself. And he made her take off her
clothes and put his own on her, both the vests and cloak and all his masculine apparel,
and said to her: "Veil yourself with the ends of the cloak and go out. And so she sealed
herself (with the holy sign) and went out and was preserved uncorrupted and undefiled.
Next day, therefore, the deed was known. The young official was arrested and thrown to the
wild beasts, in order that by him the demon might be put to shame, in that he became a
martyr in two senses, both for his own sake and for the sake of that blessed one.

CHAPTER LXVI. -- VERUS THE EX-COUNT

[1] IN Ancyra of Galatia, in the actual city, I met a certain Verus, a man of noble rank,
and had considerable experience of him and his lady wife, Bosporia----he was an ex-count.
They attained such a degree of good confidence that they defrauded even their children,
considering the future in a practical manner. For they spent the revenues of their estates
on the poor, though they have two daughters and four sons, to whom they give no portion,
except to the married daughter, saying: "After we are gone all is yours." But receiving
the produce of their estates they spend them on the churches of cities and villages. [2]
And this, too, is a mark of virtue in them. A famine having arisen, and militating against
natural affection, they brought heresies round to orthodoxy, in many places putting their
granaries at the disposal of the poor for their feeding. But they have adopted in other
ways an exceedingly grave and sparing manner of life; they wear very cheap clothes and
live on the most frugal fare, practising a godly sobriety, living for the most part on
their farms and avoiding cities, lest haply through the pleasures of the city they should
become involved in some of the city life and fall from their purpose.

CHAPTER LXVII. -- MAGNA

[1] IN this city of Ancyra many other virgins, some 2000 or more, are eminent as women
both of continence and distinction. Among them Magna takes a prominent place in religion,
a most venerable woman; I do not know what to call her, virgin or widow. For having been
forcibly linked with a husband by her mother, she wheedled him and put him off, so people
say, and thus remained inviolate. [2] When he died a little later she gave herself wholly
to God, attending in a serious spirit to her own houses, living a most ascetic and
continent life, having her conversation such that the very bishops revered her for the
excellence of her religion. While she provided for the needs, primary and secondary, of
hospitals, the poor and bishops on tour, she ceased not to work in secret with her own
hands and by means of her most faithful servants, and at nights she did not leave the
church.

CHAPTER LXVIII. -- THE COMPASSIONATE MONK

[1] LIKEWISE in the city we found a monk who preferred not to be ordained to the
priesthood, but had been led to the life after a short period of military service. He is
spending his twentieth year in asceticism, in the following fashion. He lives with the
bishop of the city, and is so humane and merciful that he goes his rounds even at nights,
and has pity on those who are in need. [2] He neglects neither prison nor hospital, poor
nor rich, but succours all, giving some advice about compassion, if without compassion;
leading others onward; reconciling some and providing others with their bodily needs and
clothing. And what generally happens in all great cities is found also in this one; for in
the porch of the church a multitude of sick people laid on couches beg their daily food,
some being married, others unmarried. [3] Well, it happened one day that the wife of a
certain man was confined in the porch, at midnight in winter-time. So he heard her crying
out in her pain, and abandoning his customary prayers went out and beheld her; finding no
one he took the place of a midwife himself, not disdaining the unpleasantness of such
occasions, compassion having made him not sensitive. [4] His clothes in appearance are not
worth an obol, and his food runs a good race with his clothes. He cannot endure to lean
over a writing-tablet since compassion drives him from his studies. If any of the brethren
gives him a book, he immediately sells it, answering thus to those who scoff at him: "How
can I persuade my Master that I have learned His art unless I sell Him Himself in order to
practise the art perfectly?"

CHAPTER LXIX. -- THE NUN WHO FELL

[1] A CERTAIN virgin ascetic living with two others practised asceticism for nine or ten
years. Seduced by a minstrel she fell and conceived and bore a child. Having come to hate
her seducer intensely she was conscience-smitten to the depths of her soul, and reached
such a degree of repentance that she completely lost heart and tried to starve herself to
death. [2] And in her prayers she besought God, saying: "O great God, Who hearest the
evils of every creature, and desirest neither the death nor destruction of those who
stumble, if Thou wishest me to be saved, show me in this Thy marvels, and take away the
fruit of my sin which I have borne, lest I employ a noose or fling myself over a
precipice." Praying in these terms she was heard, for her child died not long after. [3]
So from that day she never again met the man who had led her captive, but giving herself
to the severest fasting for thirty years she served the sick and maimed. She importuned
God so, that it was revealed to one of the holy priests: "So-and-so has pleased me more in
her penitence than in her virginity." I write this lest we should despise those who
genuinely repent.

CHAPTER LXX. -- A READER UNJUSTLY ACCUSED

1 [1] A VIRGIN once fell, the daughter of a certain priest in Caesarea of Palestine, and
was taught by her seducer to accuse a certain reader in that city. And when she was now
with child, being cross-examined by her father she denounced the reader. The priest
confidently referred the matter to the bishop, and the bishop called his clergy together
and had the reader summoned. The case was investigated. The reader was questioned by the
bishop but would not confess. For how could that be told which had not happened? [2] The
bishop was angry and said to him sternly: "Do you not confess, you miserable and wretched
man, full of uncleanness? The reader answered: "I said the truth, that it is no concern of
mine. For I am guiltless even of a thought about her. But if you wish to hear what is not
true, then I have done it. When he said this, the bishop deposed the reader. Then he
approached the bishop and besought him and said to him: "Well then, since I have fallen,
bid her to be given me as wife. For neither am I a cleric any more nor is she a virgin.
[3] So he gave her over to the reader, expecting that the young man would live with her,
and that besides his intercourse with her could not be interrupted.

2 Now the young man having taken her both from the bishop and her father put her in a
nunnery and exhorted the deaconness of the sisterhood there to support her until her
confinement. So within a little while the days of her confinement were completed. The
critical hour came----with groans, pangs, labours, visions of hell----and the babe was not
delivered. [4] The first day passed, the second, third, seventh. The woman being in hell
with the pain did not eat, drink, or sleep, but cried out, saying: "Woe is me, miserable
woman that I am, I am in peril because I accused this reader falsely. The nuns go off and
tell the father. The father, fearing to be condemned as a false accuser, keeps silence two
more days. The young woman neither died nor was delivered. So when the nuns could no
longer endure her cries they ran and told the bishop: "So-and-so has confessed in her
cries days ago that she accused the reader falsely. Then he sends deacons to him and tells
him: "Pray that she who accused you falsely may be delivered. [5] But he gave them no
answer nor opened his door, but from the day he entered his house he had been praying to
God. The father went away again to the bishop; prayers were said in the church, and not
even then did she bring forth. Then the bishop arose and went to the reader and knocking
at the door went in to him and said to him:

3 "Eustathius, arise, loose what you have fastened. And immediately the reader knelt down
with the bishop and the woman brought forth. 4 Now his pleading and the persistency of his
prayer were strong enough both to reveal the false accusation and to chastise the false
accuser; that we may learn to persevere in prayers and to know their power.

CHAPTER LXXI. -- THE BROTHER WHO IS WITH THE WRITER

1 [1] And now, when I have said a few words about the brother who has been with me from
youth until this day, I will end my tale. I know that for a long time he has not eaten
from desire nor fasted from desire. I consider that he has conquered desire of riches, the
greatest part of vainglory. He is satisfied with what he has, he does not deck himself out
with clothes, when despised he gives thanks, he runs risks for his close friends, he has
engaged in contests with demons a thousand times and more; so that one day a demon tried
to make an agreement with him and said: "Agree to sin just once, and whatever woman you
mention to me in the world I will bring her to you. [2] And again on another occasion,
after buffeting him for fourteen nights, as he told me, and dragging him by the feet in
the night he conversed with him audibly: "Cease worshipping Christ and I will not come
near you. But he answered and said: "This is why I worship Him and will glorify Him
infinitely and adore Him, because you are utterly distasteful to me when I am thus
engaged. He has visited 106 cities and stayed in most of them, but by God's mercy he has
had nothing to do with a woman, not even in a dream, except for this contest. [3] I know
that he received from an angel on three occasions the food he needed.

2 One day, being in the inner desert and having not even a crumb, he found three loaves in
his sheepskin still warm. Another time he found wine and loaves. Yet another time I
learned that some one said this to him: "You are fainting; go then and receive from these
men food and oil. So he went to the man to whom this man had sent him and said: "Are you
so-and-so? And he said: "Yes; some one has ordered you to receive thirty bushels of corn
and twelve pints of oil. On behalf "of such a one I will glory," whoever he was. I have
known him often weep over men distressed by dire poverty, and he gave them all that he had
except his flesh. I have known him also weep over one who had fallen into sin, and by his
tears he led the fallen one to repentance. He once assured me on oath: "I prayed God that
I might incite no man, especially the rich and wicked, to give me anything for my needs."

3 [5] But for me it is enough to have been counted worthy of mentioning all these things
which I have committed to writing. For it was not without God that your thought was
stirred up to enjoin the writing of this book and the committal to writing of the lives of
these saints. But you at least, most faithful servant of God, reading them with pleasure
and accepting their lives and toils and so great endurance as a fitting demonstration of
the resurrection, follow them eagerly, nourished with good hope, seeing the days in front
of you to be shorter than those behind. [6] Pray for me, keeping yourself such as I knew
you from the consulate of Tatian until this day and such as I found you when you had been
chosen to be prefect of the most religious bedchamber. For a man whom such honour
accompanied by riches and such power have not made incapable of the fear of God, such a
one reposes on that Christ Who was told by the devil: "All these things will I give Thee
if Thou wilt fall down and worship me."

4 [Footnotes renumbered and moved to the end]


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE
=============================================

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE Palladius of Galatia

c. AD 363–420

The first book of the Paradise of Palladius in its Syriac form: Palladius’s letter to
Lausus, the imperial chamberlain, and the lives of the monks and holy women of Egypt,
Nitria, Scete and Palestine. The Syriac text is fuller in places than the Greek Lausiac
History.

THE EPISTLE OF PALLADIUS TO LAUSUS

1 And again we begin to write the Book of the Triumphs of the Holy Fathers who were Monks,
which is called Paradise.

The First History

2 The Epistle of Palladius, the Bishop of the city of Helenopolis, which he made (or
wrote) to Lausus the prefect who asked him to write for him an account of the lives and
deeds of the Fathers who were monks; and he wrote thus: Palladius the Bishop to LAUSUS the
prefect: greeting (or peace). 3 I ascribe blessing to thy beautiful desire, for we may
begin [this] epistle with blessing, because whilst many men are devoted unto vain things,
and build buildings of stone wherein there is no profit, thou hast shown thyself strenuous
to learn concerning the building of the words of the narratives of holy men. For there is
One alone Who hath no deed of doctrine (or learning) that is to say, God, Who is over
everything, for He existeth of Himself, and there is no other being who existed before
Him. Now all rational beings are learners, because they are beings who have been made and
created. The ranks of the celestial hosts who existed first of all, and the orders of
beings who are the most exalted of all possess teachers in the Trinity, Who is exalted
above everything. The orders of beings of the second group learn from the beings of the
first group, and those which belong to the third group learn from those of the second
group, which is above them, and in this manner each of the later groups learneth from that
which is above it, even down to the lowest group of all; for those among them who are
superior in respect of knowledge and excellence teach knowledge unto those who are
inferior to them. Therefore those who imagine that they have no need of teachers, and who
will not be convinced by those who teach them things of good, are sick with the want of
the knowledge which is the mother and the producer of pride. Now those who are princes and
the foremost ones among these in respect of destruction are those who intentionally (or
wilfully) fell from sojourning in heaven, and from the service thereof, and these are the
devils who fly in the air because they forsook the heavenly Teacher and rebelled.

4 For polished words and sentences, or words strung together in admirable order, are not
doctrine, for these things are for the most part found with evil-doers and sinners; but
this is doctrine, which is the correction of the natural habits and disposition, and the
leading of a life of spiritual excellence according to rule, by which I mean the
possession of the faculty which shall make a man superior to affliction and to emotion,
and to timidity, and to wrath; and which shall make him to possess freedom of speech
before every man, and which shall, through the fervour of Divine Love, produce works that
shall be like unto coals of fire. For if doctrine be not this, the Great Teacher would not
have said unto His disciples, "Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart" (St. Matthew
xi, 29), for He did not instruct (or order) His Apostles merely in the beauty of speech,
without at the same time making manifest a proof (or work) in His own Person. And He
caused grief unto no man except those who spurned doctrine, and those who hated their
teachers. It is meet that the soul which leadeth its life in God should either learn in
faith that which it knoweth not, or should learn wisely that of which it hath knowledge;
but if it will do neither of these things it is, if it be possible, sick through madness.

5 The beginning of instruction (or discipline) is the fullness which is of doctrine, and
density of speech is a helper of the fear of God, and for these things the soul of him
that loveth God hungereth continually. Be strong then, and play the man. Farewell. And may
God grant thee the gift of pursuing at all times the knowledge of Christ.

The Plan of the Book [of Paradise

6 In this book are written the excellent deeds and the marvellous lives of the holy and
blessed Fathers, who took upon themselves the yoke of the solitary life, and who made
themselves to be remote from the world, and who lived in the desert, and who wished to
live wholly the heavenly life, and to travel on the road which leadeth unto the kingdom of
heaven. Let us emulate their example and endeavour to do with all our might what they did!
And together with these we commemorate also the marvellous women who led their lives in
the Divine Spirit, and who waxed exceedingly old, and who with a brave mind brought to an
end the strife of the labours of spiritual excellence, according to the Divine
manifestation and love, for they wished to lay hold upon their souls, and to bind [upon
their heads] the crown of holiness and impassibility.

7 And as for myself, (because of the sweet manners of the man by whom I have been
commanded [to write], whose mind is full of doctrine (or learning), whose habits are those
of a lover of peace, who feareth God in his heart, who loveth Christ in his mind, who in
the things which are needful is an associate, and who, because of all these qualities,
hath been chosen from among many, and hath been honoured with the highest rank of all),
being protected by the might of the Holy Spirit—especially if it be right to speak the
truth—I would rouse up our heavy minds to the contemplation of the things which are
spiritually excellent, so that we may strive to imitate the most excellent lives and deeds
of the pious men, and of the immortal and spiritual fathers, whose lives in the flesh were
passed in laborious and stern service and in pleasing God. Of the virtues of such athletes
of the fear of God it is my desire to set down some account in writing and to send it to
thee, and I would make clear in my discourse the manifest spiritual excellences of each
one of these great men. And he who loveth a divine and spiritual desire like unto this is
thyself, Lausus, who art triumphant among men, and who, in accordance with the Divine nod,
hast been established as the guardian of this kingdom which loveth Christ.

8 But inasmuch as I have not been trained in language (or speech), and as I possess
spiritual knowledge only in the very smallest degree, and am unequal to the task [of
describing] the company of the holy Fathers and [their] spiritual lives and works, I am
afraid of the greatness of [thy] command which surpasseth my capacity. I have, therefore,
up to this present, been urging myself to escape(?) from this work, because I am in great
need both of the wisdom which is [essential] externally and of spiritual understanding.
But being put to shame first of all by the strenuousness of the excellence of him that
stirred me up to [do] this work, and considering also the benefit which shall accrue to
those who shall come across these histories, and being, moreover, afraid of the danger of
the penalty of disobedience, which is right, I will first of all commit the weight of the
matter unto the Providence of God, and I will, with all diligence, make use of the prayers
of the holy Fathers, so that I may be able to mount up as upon wings to the place where
their contests were waged, and may tell the story briefly of those athletes, who though
young became great and divine men who did valiantly and who triumphed in the works and
deeds of spiritual excellence. And I will also relate the histories of those blessed women
who were adorned with the fair garb [of the monastic life], and who attained to pre-
eminence in divine labours. Now some of these divine persons of whom I am about to tell
the story I was held to be worthy to see face to face; and concerning the heavenly lives
of the others who died in the contest of the fear of God I have learned from the athletes
of Christ, who were arrayed in God.

9 Therefore, through very many cities, and villages, and in caves and holes in the earth,
and in the tabernacles which the monks had in the desert for a distance as far as a man
could walk have I gone round about for the sake of the labour of the fear of God, and I
have set down in writing with exactness the things which I have seen. And I have also made
known unto thee in this book the things which I have heard from the holy Fathers
concerning the triumphs of great men, and concerning the women who for the sake of the
hope which is in Christ performed mighty works which were above nature, and I have sent it
to thy hearing which loveth divine words. O thou Lausus who art triumphant among men, and
who art fair among the friends of God, and who art the ornament of this believing and God-
fearing kingdom, and art the true friend and servant of God, I have written down for thee
as far as my feebleness is able, the [history of] the strife of each of the athletes of
Christ, both male and female, a name which is honourable and which meriteth praise. And I
have narrated unto thee only very few of the very many exceedingly great triumphs which
belong to each one of these athletes, and of many of them I have added [the names of]
their families and cities, and also the places where they lived.

10 And we have also commemorated the men and women who, indeed, attained to the highest
excellence in the labours of the spiritual life, and who, because of the pride (or
arrogance), which is the mother of that [quality] which is called vainglory, were brought
down to the lowest depths of Sheol, and so wasted the great work in the spiritual
qualities which they had only acquired after a very long time, and the triumphs in the
ascetic virtues which they had won, through [their] pride and boasting in one brief
moment, in the twinkling of an eye. Nevertheless, by the Divine Grace of our Redeemer, and
by the carefulness of the holy Fathers, and by the cherishing influence of the mercy of
the Spirit, they were plucked [finally] out of the net of the Calumniator.

Counsels to Lausus

11 Let the following be before thy mind in all [thine] acts, and thou shalt sin in no
particular. I. To do good to the fool and to bury the dead; both are alike. 11. It is meet
that a man should put on armour over the breast, and the word of our Redeemer Christ
[over] grief; armour and shield will hide the breast, but [only] faith and action [can
hide] the soul. 111. As it is possible to see the skill of the painter on a small tablet,
so a small gift [sheweth] the greatness of the disposition of the soul. IV. Have no
confidence in the belief that that which is placed outside thy soul is thy possession. V.
Clothes and raiment drape statues, but habits and manners drape men. VI. An evil word is
the beginning of evil deeds. VII. Speak thou according to what is right, and where it is
right, and concerning the things which are right, and hearken not unto that which is not
right.

12 VIII. It is better to shake a stone vainly than [to utter a vain] word, and it is
better to be under subjection to the Barbarians than to evil passions. IX. The excellence
of a horse is made apparent in battle, and the disposition of a friend is put to the test
in tribulation. X. It is impossible to divide the sea, and it is also impossible to still
the waves thereof, although for them it is always easy [to still themselves]. XI. The wise
and God-fearing man is he who hateth that which is not right. XII. The gentle and gracious
man is he who treadeth pride under foot; but he who is set upon that which is the contrary
of this is one who is governed by arrogance. Xiii. Constant prayer is the strength, and
the armour, and the wall of the soul. Xiv. Wine maketh warm the body, and the word of God
[warmeth] the soul.

13 Xv. Know thou that not even much time will bring oblivion upon one act which thou
wouldst hide. Xvi. The believing mind is a temple of God which it is meet for a man to
adorn daily and to burn incense therein, inasmuch as it is God Who dwelleth there. And
numbers upon numbers of books at divers times and in various ways have they left unto the
habitations of men, and some of them are according to the Mind which is above and Divine
Grace, and were [written] for the edification and protection of those who wished to
[follow] carefully after the faith and the doctrine of our Redeemer, and some of them are
according to the adulation of the children of men, and the corrupt mind which is mad after
the lusts of the body, [and some of them] are for the consolation of those who destroy
vainglory; but others are from some vain madness and the

14 81 agency (or operation) of that evil Devil who hateth the things which are good, and
[their writers] made use of arrogance and hatred, and in order to corrupt the children of
men whose minds have been laid waste and who have no understanding they introduced [them]
that they might defile the purity of the holy Catholic Church, and hinder its pure life
and deeds of ascetic excellence. And, moreover, it hath seemed to me—I who fall short of
the hope which is in Christ, and who am shamefaced before the command of thy
greatmindedness—O thou man who lovest doctrine, that I ought first of all to narrate to
thee the story of how I was reared, and concerning the gradual growth of my mind of such
excellence as I possess towards God. I lived a life of rule and was in a monastery of
solitary brethren for the first part of my life, that is to say until the thirty-third
year of my age, and I served the office of Bishop for twenty years; thus the whole period
of my life hath included fifty-six years.*

15 It is, therefore, absolutely necessary, inasmuch as it hath seemed to me that thou art
very anxious to hear the triumphs of the holy Fathers, because of the divine and spiritual
profit [which is therein], that I should tell thee in writing [concerning] the men and the
women, of whom some I have myself seen, and concerning others of whom I have heard from
believing men, and concerning others whom I have met with when I was travelling about in
the land of Egypt, and in Libya, and in the Thebaïd, and also in the region of Syene, and
among those who are called men of Tabenna, and afterwards in Mesopotamia, and in
Palestine, and in Syria, and among these in the countries of the West, and among the
Romans, and among the people of the Campagna. And I must also set down in writing with
careful exactitude the history of everything which appertaineth closely to these men from
the very beginning and set before thee as an example that which will be a most excellent
memorial and a benefit of the soul, that is to say, a sure and certain binding up, so that
by means of it thou mayest be able to dispel from thy soul all the slumber of error, which
cometh into being through irrational desire, and all the doubts of the soul in respect of
faith, and sluggishness in respect of the things which are useful, and all loathing and
littleness of soul concerning habits of virtue, that is to say, keenness of wrath and
perturbation and animal ferocity and empty fear.

16 Then shalt thou flee from the vain and corrupt delight of this world, and through [thy]
constant eager desire thou shalt * There is some mistake in the numbers here given, for 33
+ 20 = 53. 17 draw nigh to the hope which is in God; and thou shalt govern thyself in the
desire of the fear of God, and those who are with thee, and those who are under thine
authority, and moreover, unto him that feareth God thou wilt become king. For through
these triumphs all those who have become friends of Christ shall hasten to be united unto
Him, and they shall also look for the loosing of the soul from the body, for it is well
known that daily [they will do this], even as it is written, "I am constrained by the good
desire which I possess [to wish] to become free and to be with Christ" (Philippians i,
23). And exceedingly excellent is all that which is said, "Make ready thy works for [thy]
going forth, and prepare thy field" (Proverbs xxiv, 27). For he who remembereth death
continually, [and keepeth in his mind the knowledge] that he must most certainly die, will
neither be negligent of nor commit sin in respect of great matters, even according to what
is said, "In all thy words remember thine end, and thou wilt never commit sin"
(Ecclesiasticus vii, 31). And beside all these things I will add this also, so that thou
mayest not belittle the tradition of this our faulty history, and mayest not hold in
contempt the simplicity and want of polish of the language [thereof]; for this matter
appertaineth not to the divine doctrine (or teaching), that we should compose speech with
wise skill, but we should strengthen the mind with sure and certain words of
understanding, according to that which is said, "Open thy mouth with the word of truth,
and judge every man in a sound manner" (Proverbs xxxi, 9); and moreover "thou shalt not
forget the narratives of the old men, because they also have them from their fathers"
(Ecclesiasticus viii, 9).

18 I therefore, O thou lover of doctrine, thou godly man, have lighted upon many things
with the holy men, not through making use of ordinary thought, but by making journeys
[among them] which have lasted thirty days, yea, even thirty days twice told. And [I say
it], as before God, that in travels and journeyings I would have trodden the whole of the
territory of the Greeks so that I might have the opportunity of conversing with each of
the lovers of God, and I would have undertaken the labour of a journey such as this
gratefully so that I might be able to traffic for a profit (or benefit) which I did not
possess. For if that man who was far more excellent than I am, and perhaps far more
excellent than the whole world, and who in his life and works, and in his knowledge, and
in his wise opinions of the Spirit, and in his faith which was in Christ, surpassed many,
I mean the blessed man Paul, who in order that he might see James, and Cephas (Peter), and
John made a journey from Tarsus to Judæa, and it is well known that he

19 83 6a related the fact of this journey somewhat as a boast when he was declaring abroad
and revealing his labours in order that he might stimulate those who were living lives
sluggish and indolent in respect of spiritual excellence, and when he said, "I went up to
Jerusalem (Galatians i, 18) that I might see Cephas (Peter)," not that he was denying the
spiritual excellence of Peter of which he had received [information] by report, but
because he was longing for converse with him also. [Now, if this Paul had need of converse
with Peter], how much more did I, who am a debtor of ten thousand talents, need to do this
(i.e., to visit the holy men), for the sake of the benefit, not for the sake of any good
which I could do them but for the sake of the advantage which I the sinful man should
myself gain? And moreover, the things which writers have written down about the holy
Fathers, I mean Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Moses, and Elijah, and the other
saints, were not composed and narrated to glorify them, but that those who should peruse
them might profit thereby.

20 Therefore, O chaste and believing man, Lausus, thou servant of God, knowing these
things, and having also instructed thyself in many others, be convinced by our discourse
also and let the matters thereof be laid up in thy God-fearing mind as in a secure
storehouse which is not wont to be disturbed by evil things of divers kinds, either
visible or invisible, and which only constant prayer and the converse which concerneth the
service of the soul can make to be moved. For many of these brethren who in the fear of
God won spiritual excellence, and who waxed great in ascetic labours and lovingkindness,
and who were famed (or boasted) because of their perfect chastity and virginity, and who
protracted to great length their meditations upon the Holy Scriptures, and placed their
trust upon [their] strenuousness in spiritual doctrine, were never held to be worthy of
the state of impassibility, because they served with a mind which possessed not discretion
and employed only the form of the fear of God, and because they were diseased with the
love of external converse, wherefrom are produced all vices which enter [into a man] from
without, and which eradicate that which is the mother of the service which taketh place in
the soul.

21 Be strong, therefore, in all wisdom, and nourish not thy soul in the riches which thou
hast made (or gotten), having made them sufficiently little by means of the gifts to those
who are needy, so that the ministration which ariseth therefrom may perfect the service of
excellence, for [this] cometh into being neither through any urging whatsoever, nor
through the foolish thoughts of any form whatsoever for the sake of vainglory. And do not
bind thyself to [do] anything under a penalty [secured] by oaths as many men do, as for
example those who for the sake of vainglory strive eagerly neither to eat nor to drink,
for though by the force of [such] oaths they may bring their feeble will into subjection,
through this same thing they fall miserably, either by means of pleasures and the loathing
[which followeth thereafter], or through the sickness of the body, or else through the
delightful gratification of some lust they bring forth falsehood. And as thou receivest
[what is good] according to reason, so according to reason shalt thou make thyself to be
remote [from what is evil], and thou shalt never sin at all; for by the word of God shall
all motions of fear be extinguished, and thou shalt draw nigh unto the things which bring
[thee] profit, and shalt trample down those which would cause [thee] loss. For for the
righteous the Law was not laid down.

22 It is better to drink wine in moderation than to drink water immoderately, and it
appeareth to me that those who drink wine in moderation are holy men, and that those who
pridefully use water in an immoderate fashion are depraved and pleasure-loving. Do not
therefore ascribe blame or praise to the eating [or not eating] of food, or to the
drinking [or not drinking] of wine, but ascribe praise, or woe, unto those who make use
properly or improperly of meat and drink. Joseph in olden time drank wine with the
Egyptians, and was in no way injured in his mind thereby, for he took good heed unto [the
admonitions of] his understanding; but Pythagoras, and Diogenes, and Plato, and with them
also the Manichaeans, and other sects of philosophers [did not], and they came thereby to
such a pitch of licentiousness and vainglory that they even forgot the God of the universe
and worshipped soulless images. On the other hand, the blessed Apostle Peter and those who
were with him drew nigh to wine and made use thereof, and because of this the Jews
reproached our Lord, the Redeemer of all [men] and their Teacher, and made complaints
against Him, saying, "Why do not Thy disciples fast like John?" (St. Matthew ix, 14; St.
Mark ii, 18.) And again they lifted themselves up (?) against the disciples and blamed
them, saying, "Why doth your master eat and drink with tax-gatherers and sinners?" (St.
Matthew ix, 11; x, 18, 19.) Now they did not make their complaints about bread and water
only, but also about wine and delicate viands, for it is evident that they only wanted to
lay blame upon the disciples in everything.

23 Thereupon our Redeemer made answer, and said, "John came in the path of righteousness,
neither eating nor drink-ing"—now it is well known that flesh and wine [are here referred
to], for it was impossible for him to live without food of other kinds—" and ye say that
he hath a devil in him; and " the Son of Man hath come, eating and drinking, and [ye] "
say, 'Behold a glutton and a winebibber, a friend of tax- " 'gatherers and sinners!' "
What then is it right for us to do, so that we may neither go after those who make
complaints [of our acts], nor after those who praise them? For we must either fast with
John according to discretion, even though the Jews said that there was a devil in him, and
that he was certainly mad, or we must drink wine with Christ with knowledge, if the body
shall have need thereof, even though the children of men shall say concerning us, "Behold
a glutton and a " winebibber. For in very truth neither the eating of food nor the
abstaining therefrom is anything, but the faith and love which are made perfect in works;
for when a man followeth after faith wholly by actions, he who eateth and drinketh is
blameless for faith's sake, for everything which is not of faith is sin.

24 But perhaps one of those who love the carnal lusts, or perhaps one of those who sin
not, will say that if they eat in faith, or if they do anything else by the irrational
thought of the carnal appetite, or through a corrupt intent, those who support themselves
on faith commit sin. Now our Redeemer made a distinction, saying, "By their fruit ye shall
know " them" (St. Matthew vii, 20); and the fruits may be recognized by the word of God,
and by spiritual wisdom, according to the word of the blessed Apostle, who said, "Love,
peace, " gladness, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- " ness, patient
endurance" (Galatians v, 22, 23)—these are the fruits of the Spirit according to the word
of the Apostle. 25 Whosoever then is eager to possess these fruits will never, without
reason and without thought on any occasion, eat flesh, or drink wine, or dwell with a man
with evil intent. Moreover, the blessed Paul saith, "Whosoever is about to strive in a
con- " test preserveth his mind free from every other thought, and " thus keepeth his body
healthy, and maketh himself to be remote " from the things which would make him fat"
(Compare 1 Corinthians ix, 25, 27). But if he fall into sickness, or into severe
sufferings, or he become a companion unto afflictions which fight against him externally,
he must then make use of meat and drink by way of a binding up, and a healing medicine for
the things which work tribulation for him. Let us then keep ourselves remote from the evil
things which are wrought in the soul, I mean anger, and envy, and vainglory, and
dejection, and evil discourse, and the suspicion which is not seemly, for whilst a man is
giving thanks unto God he cannot commit sin.

26 Now therefore, having spoken sufficiently concerning these things, I have another
entreaty to bring nigh unto the love of doctrine which is in thee, that is to say, I would
that thou didst flee with all thy strength from the converse of men from whom thou canst
gain no benefit, although their outside skin be ornamented with various patterns; even if
they be orthodox they will cause thee to suffer loss, and if they be heretics that loss
will be very much greater. And although they appear to be exceedingly aged, and their
bodies be shrivelled and withered, and it may seem to thee that thou canst not in any way
be injured by them because of the beautiful dispositions which are in them, that which is
in them and which appeareth to thee to be a small matter, will do thee an injury; for thou
shalt become lax in thy mind in respect of them, and whilst laughing at them thou wilt
become unduly exalted, and that thou shouldst be driven to arrogance would be a loss for
thee. Follow then after the mind of pious men and women who shine with the light which
entereth in through the windows, so that by means of these, like a book the lines of which
are extremely close together, thou mayest be able clearly to see what is in thy heart by
comparison with them, either of sluggishness or strenuousness.

27 For there are very many things which testify concerning spiritual excellence, [such as]
the colour of the face which blossometh with ascetic labours, and the manner in which the
apparel is put on, and a peaceable manner, and a mode of speech which is not inflated, and
modesty of the countenance, and a discourse which is not crooked, and cheerfulness of the
mind, and an understanding which is full of knowledge; by these things both thine own fair
beauty will be made strong, and also all those who follow after the goal of the fear of
God, even though they be [living] in a state of negligence or in some other similar
[vice]. For, according to the word of the wise man, the behaviour of a man, and the gait
of his legs, and the laughter of his mouth testify concerning him (Ecclesiasticus xix,
30).

CHAPTER 1. THE HISTORY OF ABBA ISIDORE [BISHOP OF HERMOPOLIS PARVA (DAMANBUR) IN LOWER EGYPT].

1 By the help of our Lord I will, therefore, begin [to write] for thee, [O Lausus,] the
histories of the holy Fathers, and I will omit nothing concerning them which I will not
make known in [my] discourse, neither the histories of those who lived in cities, nor of
those who lived in villages or in caves, nor of those who became famous in the desert.
Nay, I will even add to my discourse the histories of those who lived among the general
assembly of a community, for no special country or place wherein they lived and wherein
they perfected the life of ascetic excellence needs to be sought out, for [everywhere]
they led the pure life and conversation of chastity and integrity, and performed the deeds
of the simple mind wherein, through the help of Christ, they wrought and fulfilled the
lives and deeds of angels. 2 Now at first, when I went to Alexandria in the second
consulship of the Emperor Theodosius the Great, who now because of the orthodoxy of his
faith in Christ sojourneth with the angels, I met in the city a wonderful man who was
adorned in every respect with the most beautiful qualities of speech, and knowledge, and
life and conversation, whose name was Isidore. He was a priest and was the overseer (i.e.,
manager or secretary) of the hospital, of the church of Alexandria, and it was said of him
that in his early youth he had lived in a monastery in the desert, and that he triumphed
in the contest of the ascetic life: I saw, moreover, his cell in the mountain of Nitria. I
met him when he was an old man seventy years of age, and when he had lived fifteen years
longer he departed from this world. Now to the end of his life this holy man never put on
either a linen tunic or even a head-covering; he never washed, and he never ate flesh, and
he never ate a full meal seated comfortably at a table; and yet, through Divine grace, his
body shone.

3 He possessed a sound and healthy body, and he was, by the grace of Christ, so fully
endowed with strength that those who beheld him and who did not know him would not be
persuaded that he lived a life of self-denial, and they thought and said that he must lead
a life of great luxury and that he must eat abundantly of rich meats. Now, if I were to
undertake to declare the marvellous character of his life and deeds, and wished to recount
the excellence of his soul, and to make manifest every fact concerning them, all time
would not suffice [for me to declare them], nor would paper [suffice for me to write
them]. For this man was so lovingly merciful and so full of peace that, by the reason of
orthodoxy of his faith in Christ, even his enemies who did not believe were put to shame
by him, from his early youth up, and at his good deeds and at the abundance of his
graciousness were put to the blush; for he was gracious unto every man.

4 Now he possessed the gift of the spirit and the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, and
the comprehension of divine learning, and he kept the commandments [so strictly] that at
noon, the time when the brethren were wont to take their food, the mind of this holy man
was carried away as it were in a slumber, and the greater number of the brethren were
marvelling at his example and knowledge, and many, many times they tried to persuade him
to relate unto them the things which he saw, and entreated him to tell them concerning the
marvellous state which had come upon him, but he could not be persuaded [to do so].
Finally he was constrained by the power of their love, and he answered and said unto them,
"My mind departed and was carried away by contemplation, and I was snatched away by the
similitude of a thought, and I was fed with the food of glory, which, however, it is
impossible for me to describe."

5 Now I knew this man, and on several occasions he burst into tears at the table; and when
I asked him, "What is the cause of these tears?" he said unto me, "I am ashamed of myself
because, being a rational being, I eat the food of an irrational creature; I desire to
live in Paradise, where I should enjoy the food which is imperishable. For [although] we
have received that power which is from Christ, yet am I drawn to partake of the food which
perisheth. I would partake of the food which is spiritual, and I would that I were in the
Paradise of delights in the dominion which God hath given unto me; and behold I am eating
the food of the beasts." And unto this man were known all the members of the Roman Senate
and the free-born women of the nobles [of Rome], because in former times he had gone with
Bishop Athanasius to that city, and he had also been there with the holy man Bishop
Demetrius.* And Isidore, having great riches, and wanting nothing, was wont to give
abundantly and without

6 * Bishop of Pessinus in Galatia Secunda, and friend of St Chrysostom, whose letter to
Innocent I he took to Rome; he was in Rome again in 405. sparing to the poor and needy.
And when he had ended his days and came to die, he made no will whatsoever; and he left no
money to any man, and he left nothing to his brethren. To his sisters who were virgins he
also left nothing, and he made no provision at all for them, but committed them to the
care of Christ, saying, "He who created you will provide for your living and also
whatsoever things of which ye have need, even as He hath [provided] for me." Now with his
sisters was a company of about seventy sisters. Now when I had come unto him to be his
disciple, and I was persuading him to hold me worthy of the rank of those who lived in a
monastery, being in the vigour of my early manhood and needing not the word only but also
the labour of the body, and severe physical exercises, even like the young unbroken
animal, I besought him to teach me his beautiful way of life and to let me dwell by
myself, for I was heedful of nothing, being in the vigour of my early manhood, and I had
no great need of doctrine, but only [to learn] to subdue the passions of the flesh. Then,
like a good teacher, he took me outside the city unto a place which was six miles distant,
and wherein there was restful solitude, and he handed me over unto an anchorite whose name
was Dorotheos,

CHAPTER 2. THE HISTORY OF DOROTHEOS OF THEBES

1 And whose life was one of spiritual excellence, and who had lived in a cave for sixty
years. And he commanded me to live with him, and to lead a life of self-denial with him
for a period of three years, so that the passions of the flesh might leave me. For the
blessed Isidore knew that blessed old man, and he knew that his life was stern and severe,
and he admonished me, saying, "When thou hast completed this period of three years, return
unto me for the remainder of the doctrine of spiritual knowledge." But I was unable to
fulfil these three years with him, on account of a severe illness into which I fell, and
so I departed from Dorotheos before the end of the period, and I returned to him that had
brought me out, and entered his abode [that I might learn] the doctrine of the spirit.

2 Now the life of Dorotheos was one of exceedingly hard toil, and the manner thereof was
severe, and his food was meagre and wretched, for he lived on dry bread. And he used to go
round about in the desert by the side of the sea the whole day long in the heat of the
noonday sun and collect stones with which he built cells, which he used to give unto the
brethren who were unable to build [cells for themselves]; and he used to finish one cell
each year. One day I said unto the holy man, "Father, why workest thou thus in thine old
age? for thou wilt kill thy body in all this heat. And he said unto me, "I kill it lest it
should kill me. He used to eat one small bread cake, which weighed about six ounces, each
day, and a little bundle of green herbs; and he drank water by measure. What then? I know
not. As God is my witness I never saw this man stretch out [his legs] and lie down as [men
are] wont [to do]; and he never slept upon a bed of palm leaves, or upon anything else,
but he used to work the whole night long weaving baskets made of palm leaves to provide
himself with the daily bread which he required and food.

3 Now I imagined at first that he used to work in this manner because I was present, and
then I thought, "Peradventure it is only for my sake, and to show me how to perform such
severe labours, that [he doeth this]. So I made enquiries of many of those who had been
his disciples and who were then living by themselves and were emulating his spiritual
excellencies, and I also asked others of his disciples who were living by his side if in
very truth he always laboured in this wise, and they said unto me, "He hath held to this
practice from his youth up, and he hath never been in the habit of sleeping according to
what is right. In the daytime he never sleepeth willingly, but [sometimes] when he is
working with his hands, or when he is eating, he closeth his eyes and is snatched away by
slumber. As he sitteth working he eateth, and unless slumber overcame him [suddenly] he
would never sleep at all. Many and many a time he is overcome by slumber while he is
eating, and the morsel of bread falleth out of his mouth because he is overcome by
drowsiness. And when from time to time I used to urge him to sit down, or to throw himself
upon a mat of palm leaves and to rest a little, he would answer and say unto me in a
grieved manner, "If thou art able to persuade the angels to sleep, then thou wilt be able
to persuade me."

4 One day, towards the ninth hour, Dorotheos sent me to the fountain from which he drank
water to fetch him some water, so that he might eat his meal, for he used to eat about
this time, and when I had gone there I chanced to see a viper going down the well; and
because of [my] fear I was unable to fill [the pitcher] with water, and I went back to
him, and said unto him, "O father, we shall die, for I have seen a viper [going] down into
the water." Now when he heard [these words] he laughed reverently, and constrained
himself, and he lifted up his face and looked at me not a little time, and he shook his
head, and said unto me, "If it were to happen that Satan had the power to shew thee in
every fountain an asp, or again to cast into them vipers, or serpents, or tortoises, or
any other kinds of venomous reptiles, wouldst thou be able to do without drinking water
entirely ? " And when he had said these words unto me, he went forth and departed [to the
fountain] and drew water, and brought [it back], and having made the sign of the Cross
over it he straightway drank therefrom before he ate anything. And he constrained me to
drink and said unto me, " Where the seal (or sign) of " the Cross is, the wickedness of
Satan hath no power to do " harm."

5 And this blessed man Isidore, the overseer of the hospital [in Alexandria], related unto
me the following story, which is worthy of record, and he heard it from the blessed
Anthony where he lived with him in the desert in the days of Emperor Maximinus, the
prosecutor.

CHAPTER 3. THE HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN POTAMIAENA

1 There was a certain young virgin [called Potamiaena] who was exceedingly beautiful and
she was a Christian; she was the handmaiden of a certain worldly man who was given over to
a life of pleasure, and she lived in very great luxury, and her master flattered her
greatly, wishing to destroy her. And being unable to bring her into subjection to his
will, he at length was seized with madness, and he became furiously angry with her and
delivered her over to a certain prefect who lived at that time in Alexandria (i.e.,
Basilides), saying, " She " is a Christian, and she revileth the government, and uttereth
" blasphemies against the Emperor. And he promised to give him much money saying, " If she
can be persuaded to do my " will, keep her for me without disgrace and punishment, but "
if she persisteth in her obstinacy of heart, punish her with " every kind of torture thou
pleasest, and let her not remain " alive to laugh at me and at my luxurious way of life.
And when they brought the valiant woman before the throne of the judges, she was greatly
moved, but she was not persuaded; and the prefect tortured the body of the virgin of
Christ with many different kinds of tortures. Then again after these things he thought out
a crafty plan, and invented a method of punishment by torture which was as follows.

2 He commanded them to bring a huge cauldron which was full of pitch, and to light a
fierce fire under it, and when the pitch was melted and was boiling, the judge cried to
her, saying, " Go thou and submit " thyself to the will of thy lord, and know thou if thou
doest " not this thing thou shalt straightway fall into this cauldron. Now when she heard
this, she sealed her soul, and answered and said, " Thou judgest with iniquity, O judge,
for thou com- " mandest me to become subject unto fornication. I am the " handmaiden of
Christ, and it is meet that I should stand before His throne without blemish. And when the
judge heard this, he was straightway greatly troubled and filled with wrath, and he
commanded them to bring her and to cast her into the cauldron. Then the virgin said unto
him, "I adjure thee, by the head of the Emperor, if thou condemnest me to this thing of
thine own self, to command them to put me into the cauldron little by little, without
stripping my apparel from me, so that thou mayest know the patient endurance which I have
through Christ for the sake of my purity. And as they were dipping her little by little
into the cauldron, for a very short space of time, immediately the pitch reached her neck
it became cold; thus she delivered her soul unto God, and she was crowned with a good
martyrdom.

3 And a great congregation of holy men and women were made perfect (i.e., they suffered
martyrdom) at that time in the church of Alexandria, and they became worthy of that land
which the meek inherit. [Potamiaena was martyred, with her mother Marcella, in the reign
of Septimius Severus.] 4 Here end the triumphs of Isidore, and Dorotheos, and the Virgin
Potamiaena

CHAPTER 4. THE HISTORY OF DIDYMUS [BORN A.D. 309 OR 314]

1 Together with these I also saw a certain blessed man who was in Alexandria, and whose
name was Didymus, and who also, with us, wrote these things; now he was blind, and he
could not see at all; he was a marvellous man, and I went several times to see him. He was
eighty years of age, and he told me that he became blind when he was four years old and
could not see at all, but according to what he himself related to me, "After forty years I
perceived the faces (or external aspects) of things. And although this man had never
learned the Testaments, and had never entered a school, the gift of an excellent and
healthy mind had been given unto him by God, and he became learned in the knowledge of
books through an enlightened understanding. And he was adorned with goodness and with the
knowledge of the truth to such a degree, and was so ready and was so wholly wise that
there was fulfilled in him that which was written, "The Lord openeth the eyes of the
blind" (Psalm cxlvi, 8). He could interpret the Old and New Testaments word by word in its
proper place, and had investigated carefully the commandments and could repeat all the
words which were in them.

2 And he was so thoroughly well acquainted with the belief of the truth (or of the true
faith), and he comprehended so deeply all heresies that his knowledge was more excellent
than that of many who were before him in the Church. Now [once] when he was urging me to
make a prayer in his cell and I was unwilling to do so, he spake unto me and related unto
me concerning Abbâ Anthony who, he said, "came three times and visited me in this cell.
And when I begged and entreated him to pray, straightway he knelt down upon his knees, and
prayed, and waited not for me to speak one word about it, but at the first word he
corrected me by his obedience. He did not let me finish my speech, but by work he made
manifest obedience. And Didymus said unto me, "Thou also, if thou wishest to walk in his
footsteps and [to imitate him] in [his] life and deeds, and in hospitality, and if thou
wouldst walk in the life of excellence and in the love of God, remove thyself from
contention."

3 And this blessed man Didymus himself told me the following ing story. "Once on a time I
was suffering by reason of the wretched Emperor Julian. Now one day, when it was eventide,
and I had eaten no food through my anxiety about this matter, whilst I was sitting on my
seat I dropped into a light slumber, and there fell upon me a marvellous thing. I saw and
behold there were white horses galloping about, and they had on them riders who were
dressed in white, and they were crying out and saying, 'Tell Didymus that Julian died this
day at the seventh hour. Rise up, then, and eat, and send and make [this news] known unto
Bishop Athanasius, so that he also may know and rejoice.' And I wrote down the day, and
the hour, and the month [wherein this vision took place], and it was found that it had
happened even as it had been told me in the vision."

4 And the blessed man himself also told me the following story:

CHAPTER 5. THE HISTORY OF THE MAIDEN ALEXANDRA

1 There was a certain maiden of Alexandria whose name was Alexandra, and she left the city
and shut herself up in a tomb until the end of her life; she used to receive her food and
whatsoever she needed through a window, and no man and no woman saw her face, neither did
she see the face of any man, for twelve years. And a few days afterwards she yielded up
her soul, and she lay down and went to her rest in peace. Now when her serving woman went
to visit her according to her wont, she knocked at the window, but Alexandra gave her no
answer, and straightway she knew that she was dead, and she came and made known unto us
concerning her mistress. And we took off the door of her cell and we found her body dried
up. 2 Now the blessed woman Melha also related unto us the story of Alexandra, saying, "I
have [never] seen her face to 'face. And I stood outside the cell, close to the window,
and entreated her to tell me for what reason she had shut herself up in the grave. And
Alexandra answered and said unto me, Inasmuch as the thought of the love of God was
present in my mind, I prayed before the Lord, and I entreated Him to permit me to offer
unto Him my virginity in the state in which it had been born with me. Now a certain young
man regarded me in his thoughts, and looked upon me, and desired me, and sought to destroy
me. But because I did not want to grieve him, or to say what was evil unto him, or to be
to him an occasion of sin, I chose rather to shut myself up alive in this grave than to
cause a man who was made in the form of the image of God to stumble.' And I 'said unto
her, How canst thou bear [to] live here not seeing the face of any man without being
driven to despair?' Then 'she answered and said unto me, I occupy myself with my prayers
and with the work of my hands, and I have no idle moments. From morn until the ninth hour
I weave linen, and recite the Psalms and pray;

3 and during the rest of the day I commemorate in my heart the holy fathers, and I revolve
in my thoughts the histories of all the Prophets and Apostles, and Martyrs; and during the
remaining hours I work with my hands and eat my bread, and by means of these things I am
comforted whilst I await the end of my life in good hope.' These things we have heard from
the blessed woman Melania who told the story of the maiden Alexandra. But in this history
I must not underrate those who have toiled in the faith of Christ, to the glory of the
perfect and to the admonition of those who hear.

CHAPTER 6. THE HISTORY OF ABBA MACARIUS [THE ALEXANDRIAN] AND A CERTAIN VIRGIN

1 There was in Alexandria a certain virgin who though meek in appearance was of a haughty
disposition. Now she was exceedingly rich and had possessions without number, but she
never relieved the poor, and the strangers, and those who were in misery, and she never
gave a drachma to the Church, and notwithstanding the frequent rebuke with which the
Fathers rebuked her, she never allowed any portion of riches to leave her. And this woman
had kinsfolk, and she adopted her sister's daughter, to whom she used to promise by day
and by night [to give her] all that she had, for she had fallen from heavenly love. Now,
it is a customary thing which belongeth to the deception of Satan that he produceth
avarice under guise of love of family, for that he hath no genuine care for kinsmanship is
well known from the fact that he taught murder in order that he might make war [between]
brethren, and is admitted by the Holy Book. (Compare St. John viii, 44. And, if he
imagined that he implanteth solicitude for kinsfolk in [the hearts of] men, [it must be
remembered] that he is not moved to do this on their behalf because of [his] love for
them, but only that he may minister unto his own will, for manifestly he knoweth the
sentence of judgement which hath been passed, that the wicked shall not inherit the
kingdom of God (1 Corinthians vi, 9).

2 For if a man be moved by spiritual understanding and by divine desire, he will be able
to care for his kinsfolk if they be in want without bringing himself into contempt; but if
he devoteth the whole of himself to the care for his kinsfolk, and he bringeth himself
into contempt by making himself to labour under poverty, he will fall from the divine law.
And the divine man David singeth in the Psalms concerning those who possess themselves of
the solicitude of the fear of God, and he saith, "Who shall go up into the mountain of the
Lord? (Psalm xxiv, 3. Now, inasmuch as he saith, "Who," he maketh known concerning the
smallness of the number [who shall go up]. And [again he saith], "Who shall stand in His
holy place? He whose hands are clean and whose heart is chosen, and "who giveth not
himself unto poverty" (Psalm xxiv, 3, 4). For those who devote themselves to poverty are
those who think that the soul is dissolved with this body.

3 Now this virgin, who was so in name only, became a stranger unto the various kinds of
[spiritual] excellence. And there was a certain priest whose name was Macarius (or
Isidore) who wished to cut away as with iron and to lighten the weight of the possessions
of those who loved money, and he had the care of, and was the governor (or secretary) of a
house for the poor who were sick and infirm in their bodies. And this man thought out the
following plan whereby he might entrap the virgin. From his youth up he had been a skilful
workman in the cutting of gems, and he went to her and said, "Certain very precious
emeralds and gems have fallen into my hands, and whether they have been stolen or not I do
not know; their value cannot be ascertained, because they are above price, but the man who
hath them will sell them for five hundred dînârs. If thou wishest to take them thou wilt
be able to recover the price of five hundred dînârs from [the sale of] one of the gems,
and the rest thou wilt be able to employ in the adornment of thy sister's daughter." Now
when the virgin heard this she was perturbed, and she fell

4 97 down at his feet making entreaty unto him, and saying, "I beseech you to let no other
person take them." Macarius saith unto her, "Come to my house and see them," but she would
not consent to this; and she poured out for him five hundred dinârs, and said unto him,
"According to what thou dost require even so take, but I do not wish to see the man who is
selling them." 5 And having taken the five hundred dinârs he spent them on food and on
things for the use of those who were hungry, and on the poor. And when much time had
passed, inasmuch as he was a famous man in Alexandria—now this blessed man was well known
for his love of God, and for the merciful disposition which was in him, and he was almost
one hundred years old, and we also knew him and had tarried in his house with him—the
virgin was ashamed to call the matter [of the five hundred dinârs] to his mind. But
finally she found him in the church and said unto him, "I beseech thee [to tell me] how
thou hast disposed of the gems for which we gave thee the five hundred dinârs. And he
answered and said unto her, "When thou gavest me the money I gave it for the price of the
gems; if thou wishest come and see them in my house, for there are they deposited. Come
and see them, if it pleaseth thee [so to do], and if thou wilt not then take thy money. So
she went with him joyfully. Now the place to which [she went] was a house of the poor; in
the upper parts thereof were lying women whose bodies were destroyed, and in the lower
parts were men. And when they had come there Macarius brought her in through the door, and
said unto her, "Which wouldst thou see first, the emeralds or the gems?

6 She saith unto him, "Whichever thou pleasest. Then he took her up to the upper parts of
the house and showed her the women whose faces and bodies were diseased and deformed, and
said unto her, "These are the gems"; and he brought her down to the lower parts, and
showed her the men, and said unto her, "These are the emeralds. If these please thee [good
and well]; but if not take thy money. Then was the virgin ashamed, and she went forth and
departed, and by reason of her grief she fell into a sickness, because it was through God
and of her own will that she had in this wise performed the matter. Finally, however, she
came to herself, and was exceedingly grateful to the priest, and as for the maiden for
whose wedding feast she was laying up her riches, she died.

CHAPTER 7. CONCERNING THE MONKS WHO LIVED IN NITRIA

1 Now having held converse with many of the saints, and having gone round about among the
monasteries which were nigh unto Alexandria for three years, & having met about two
thousand of the great and strenuous men who lived there, and who were adorned with the
excellence of spiritual lives, I departed from there and came to Mount Nitria. Now between
this mountain and Alexandria there lieth a certain lake which is called "Mareotis," which
embraceth a space of seventy miles. And having seated myself in a boat I crossed this lake
in a day and a half, and I came unto the mountain to the south, whereunto is joined the
desert which reacheth unto Cush (Ethiopia). In this mountain of the Mazaki and of the
Mauritanians there live excellent men who are adorned with divers kinds of ascetic
virtues; and every monk leadeth the ascetic life as he wisheth and as he is able, either
by himself or in a community. Now in this mountain there are seven bakers who make bread
and who minister unto them, and unto the chosen men of the inner desert, of whom there are
six hundred, and also unto the people of that mountain. And when I had dwelt in this
mountain for a year, and had profited by the fathers, the pious and blessed men, I mean
Rabbâ Barsîs [i.e., Arsisius], and Bûsîrîs, and Petâ-Bast, and Agîôs, and Khrônîs, and
Serapion, the elder, and had learned from them also concerning the ancient and first
spiritual fathers [who had lived there], I entered into the inner desert wherein is Mount
Nitria.

2 In this mountain is a great church, and in the courtyard thereof are three palm trees,
in each of which hangeth a whip. One of these is for the correcting of the monks who
transgress through folly; the second is for the punishing of the thieves if they be found
falling on the place; and the third is for the chastising of the strangers who flock there
and who transgress in any matter whatsoever. And it is the same with anyone who shall
commit any offence, they bring him to the palm tree and punish him, and he receiveth upon
his back the number of stripes which they have appointed unto him. Adjoining the church is
a house in which the strangers who arrive there may lodge, and if any man wisheth to work
[there] one year, or two, or until he departeth of his own accord [he may do so]; and
every week of days they permit him to rest, so that he may do nothing, but they give him
work during the remaining days of the week, either among the bakers, or in the refectory.
And if there was among these anyone who was suf-

3 99 7a ficiently educated they used to give him a book to read, but they did not allow
him to hold converse with any man until the sixth hour. There were also in this mountain
physicians for the use of the sick, and those who sold cakes; and they also used wine
which was sold there. All these people worked at the weaving of flax with their hands, and
there was no needy man there. Now when the evening cometh thou must rise up to hear the
praises, and the Psalms, and the prayers which are sent up to Christ by the people from
the monasteries which are there, and a man might imagine, his mind being exalted, that he
was in the Paradise of Eden. Now the monks only came to church on the Sabbath and on the
First Day of the week. Belonging to this church there were eight priests and governors,
but as long as the first one lived none of the others ministered in the church; he neither
judged nor spake with any man, and they lived with him a life of silent contemplation. Now
this great man Arsisius and many of the ancient holy men whom we saw were followers of the
rule of the blessed man Anthony, and Arsisius himself told me that the holy man Ammôn, who
was from Nitria, and whom he knew, and whose soul was taken up and carried by the angels
into heaven, even saw Anthony. And Arsisius also spake to me concerning the blessed man
Pachomius, who came from Tabenna of Hekhâm, and who possessed the gift of prophecy and who
became the governor and head of three thousand men; of this man I will relate the virtues
at the end [of this book].

CHAPTER 8. THE HISTORY OF ABBA AMMON, [THE "FATHER OF EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM"]

1 Concerning the blessed man Ammôn, he used to say: He became a monk in this wise: When he
was a young man, and was about twenty-two years old, he was left an orphan by his parents.
His father's brother wanted to give him a wife, and because he was unable to resist the
counsel of his uncle he was compelled by force to marry one, and to fasten the crown of
bridegrooms upon his head, and to take his seat in the marriage chamber, and to fulfil
everything according to the law of the marriage feast. Now, Ammôn submitted to everything
outwardly, but after every one had gone forth having put Ammôn and his wife to bed in the
marriage chamber, the blessed man rose up and shut the door and seated himself. And he
called to the true and blessed woman his spouse, and said unto her, "Henceforth thou shalt
be my lady" and my sister; come therefore, and I will relate unto thee "concerning a
matter which is more excellent [than marriage].

2 "The marriage which men contract is a perishable thing, but let us choose for ourselves
the marriage which perisheth not, and the marriage feast which never endeth. Let us each
sleep alone, for in this wise we shall please Christ; and let us guard the glory of our
virginity unspotted, so that we may take our rest at the marriage feast which is
incorruptible." Then he took out a book from his bosom and read to the maiden [passages]
which were uttered by the Apostles and by our Redeemer, and since she had no knowledge of
the Scriptures he added unto their words from his own divine mind. And he read many
passages unto her and talked much to her concerning virginity and purity, and at length,
by the grace of Christ, she was persuaded. Then she answered and said unto him, "Master, I
know well that a rule of life of purity is very much more excellent [than marriage];
therefore whatsoever pleaseth thee that do. And I also from this time forth will be
persuaded [to do] whatsoever thou wishest to do."

3 Then Ammôn said unto her, "I beg and entreat thee to let each of us from this time forth
dwell alone"; but she would not agree to this, and said, "Let us live in the same house,
and let each of us have a separate bed. So they dwelt together holily in the same house
for eighteen years. In the morning Ammôn used to go forth and pass the whole day in
cultivating the balsam trees which he had in his garden; now the balsam tree is like unto
the vine, and must be planted and pruned and cultivated, and it demandeth great
attention—and in the evening he entered into his house, and recited his prayers, and then
ate with her. And he also rose up to [say] the praises (or hymns) of the night, and as
soon as the dawn had come he would depart to the garden. Now as they were doing these
things they both removed themselves from passions, and attained unto impassibility, and
the prayers of Abbâ Ammôn helped [his wife]. And at length the blessed woman said unto
him, "Master, I have something to say unto thee, if thou wilt hearken unto me, and I am
convinced that for God's sake thou lovest me. The blessed man said unto her, "Tell [me]
what thou wishest [to say]";

4 and she said unto him, "It is not right (seeing that thou art a God-fearing man, and one
who liveth a life of righteousness, and that thou hast also made me, outwardly, to yearn
for this path [of life], and by the help of divine grace I have gotten purity), to live
with me. It is not good that, for my sake, thou who dwellest with me in purity for our
Lord's sake, shouldst hide the spiritual excellence of thy philosophy; for it is not
seemly that thy fair deeds should be hidden, and should not be known. Let thy dwelling be
apart from me and [thus] thou shalt benefit many. Then Ammôn praised God, and said unto
her, "O lady, this mind is beautiful, and if it be acceptable unto thee do thou remain and
abide in this house in peace, and I will go and make another for myself. And having gone
forth from her Ammôn departed and entered into Mount Nitria, where as yet the monasteries
were not numerous, indeed up to that time there were no monasteries at all there; and he
built himself a habitation there, and dwelt therein for two and twenty years. And having
attained unto the highest practice of the labours of the ascetic life he ended his days,
that is to say, the holy man Ammôn went to his rest and slept when he was sixty-two years
of age. Twice in the year he used to go and see his spouse;

5 and he died in his virginity, and his wife likewise brought the years of her life to an
end in purity. 6 Now the following wonderful thing is told concerning him by the blessed
Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, in the book which he composed about the life and deeds
of the blessed Anthony. Once when he was about to cross the river which is called "the
Wolf" with Theodore his disciple, he was ashamed to take off his clothes [lest] he might
see the nakedness of his person. And being doubtful in his mind (literally thoughts) how
he should cross over wonder fell upon him, and through an angel he crossed the river
without any [boat] whatsoever [on his part]. It was the same Ammôn who saw the blessed man
Anthony, who lived and died in such wise that his soul was taken to heaven by angels, and
it was he who passed over the waters by the might of the Holy Spirit. Now as concerning
this river which is called "the Wolf," I myself was once in great fear when I was crossing
it in a boat, because it is filled with the overflow of the waters of the Nile.

CHAPTER 9. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED MAN HOR

Now in Mount Nitria there was a certain man whose name was Hor, concerning whom men,
especially all the brotherhood, testify to many of his triumphs, and also that marvellous
and excellent woman Melhá (i.e., Melania), the handmaid of Christ, who went into this
mountain before I did. As for me, I never became acquainted with this man. And in his
history they say this one thing: "He never told a lie in his life, and he never used
oaths; he never uttered a curse, and beyond what was absolutely necessary he never spoke
at all."

CHAPTER 10. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED MAN PAMBO [DIED A.D. 393]

1 In this mountain there also lived the blessed man Pambô (or Panbîs), who was the teacher
and master of the Bishops Dioscorus, Ammonius, Eusebius, [Euthemis] (Eutymius), and Origen
the nephew of Dracontius, a marvellous man. Now this man Pambô possessed [the power to
utter] words of prophecy, and splendid triumphs, yet with all these he despised gold and
silver, even as the Word demandeth. Now the following things [concerning him] were related
unto me by the blessed woman Melhâ (i.e., Melania): 2 When I first came from Rome to
Alexandria I heard concerning the life and deeds of Pambô, inasmuch as the blessed man
Isidore, who also brought me unto him in the desert, told me about him. And I brought unto
him a basket which was filled with stamped silver (i.e., coined money) three hundred
pounds [in weight], and I begged him to accept some of my possessions for his needs. He
was sitting and plaiting the leaves of palm trees, and as he was doing this he merely
blessed me, and said, "God give thee thy reward!" Then he said unto his steward, whose
name was Origen, "Take and distribute [this] among all the brethren who are in the
'Island' and in Libya"; for these monasteries are exceedingly poor, and he commanded the
steward not to give unto any man who dwelt in Egypt, for those who dwell therein have
[abundant] means of subsistence. Now I stood there and I expected to be treated with
honour or to be praised for the greatness of the gift, but when I heard nothing from him,
I said unto him, "Master, knowest thou how much money it is, and that there are three
hundred pounds [in the basket]?" Then Pambô, without lifting up his gaze, said unto me,
"My daughter, He unto whom thou hast offered thy money hath no need [to know] the weight.
For He who weighed the mountains in a balance knoweth how much is the weight of thy
silver. If thou hadst given the money unto me thou wouldst have done well to have informed
me concerning the weight thereof; but since thou hast given it to God, Who did not despise
the two mites of the widow, [what need hast thou to tell Him?] Hold thy peace."

3 Now our Lord so directed that in the day on which I entered the mountain this blessed
man died without having been ill, for he died whilst he was sewing together palm leaves
for mats, without fever and without sickness. And he was seventy years old. Now he was
sewing together palm leaves for a mat, and coming to the end of it he sent and called me.
And when he had finished sewing it, he said unto me, "Take this mat from my hands, so that
thou mayest keep me in remembrance, for I have nothing else whatever to leave thee"; and
having given it unto me he straightway died. And I wrapped his body in linen swathings,
and buried him, and then I departed from the desert; and I shall treasure the mat as a
sacred relic until the day of my death. 4 Now at the time of the death of this holy man
Pambô there were standing before him certain famous men, Origen the priest and steward,
and Ammonius, together with the remainder of the brethren, and they told [me] that at the
time of his death, he said, "From the day wherein I came into this desert and built this
cell in which I have lived [until this day] I know not that I have [ever] eaten the bread
of idleness (or bread) which did not come from the labour of mine own hands; and my soul
repenteth not that I have ever spoken an empty word in my life; thus I go to God like one
who hath, as yet, not made a beginning in the fear of God. And Origen and Ammonius, the
servants of Christ, in telling us the story of his life, bore witness concerning him that
he was never asked a question by any man about a saying from the Book, or about the rules
and labours of the ascetic life which he did not either answer immediately, or say, "I
have not as yet understood the matter. Now there were times when he spake these words
[only] after three months' consideration of a matter; and he used to make answer with such
understanding that every man received the things which were said by him with as great
reverence as if they had [been said] by God. Now this excellence was also attributed to
Anthony the Great and to the rest of the holy men.

5 Among other things which are said concerning the holy man Pambô is the following. The
blessed man Pîôr once went to Pambô's cell and took with him some bread, and Pambô made a
complaint, saying unto him, "Why hast thou done this? Then Abbâ Pîôr made answer, saying,
"Let [this thing] be not grievous unto thee"; but Pambô was silent and sent him away. And
after some time Rabbâ Pambô went to the cell of Abbâ Pîôr, and he took with him bread
which had been dipped in water; and being asked, "Why hast thou done this? the blessed man
Pambô said unto him, "Let it not be grievous unto thee that I have also dipped the bread
in water."

CHAPTER 11. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED AMMONIUS

1 Now this man Ammonius and his three brothers [i.e., Dioscorus, Eusebius, and Euthymius,
who were called the "Tall Brothers" by Sozomen] and his two sisters were disciples of
Rabbâ Pambô; and when they had attained unto the perfection of divine life and
conversation they departed from the desert, and founded two monasteries, I mean, one for
men and one for women, but they placed the monastery of the women at a sufficient distance
from that of the men, for Ammonius did not greatly love the intercourse of speech. It was
for this reason that a certain city desired that he should be its bishop, and the people
thereof drew nigh unto the blessed man Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria, and entreated him to
make the blessed Ammonius their bishop; and Timothy [who sat from 381-385] told them to
bring Ammonius unto him and that he would make him their bishop. Then they took with them
much people, and they went unto Ammonius to bring him, and when he saw them he tried to
find means to take to flight. But when he saw that he was unable to escape from them, he
tried to persuade them, with many oaths, that he would not accept it, but he was unable to
make them give up their intention.

2 And when they would not be persuaded by him, he seized a razor and cut off his left ear
at the root, and said unto them, "Now I am indeed persuaded that 'I cannot be that which
ye are urging me to be, for the Law also commandeth, The man whose ear hath been cut off
shall not draw nigh unto the altar'" (Leviticus xxvi, 17); so they left him and went and
informed the Bishop, who said unto them, "This law is observed among the Jews, but even
'if his nose was split and he had fine qualities I would make him Bishop. Then the people
went to Ammonius again and entreated him [to come], and when the pious man would not be
persuaded by them, they wanted to take him and to make him come by force; but he said unto
them, "If ye do [not] 'leave me I will also slit my tongue"; and when they heard this they
left him and departed.

3 Concerning this man Ammonius so wonderful a thing as the following is said. Whenever a
carnal thought entered his mind he never spared his body, but he would make a piece of
iron hot on the fire and lay it upon his members, so that they might always be in a state
of wounds. From his youth up his rule was as follows: whatsoever had been cooked by fire
he would never eat. He could repeat the books of the Old and New Testaments by heart, and
he used to read also the books [which were composed by] excellent men, by Origen, and by
Didymus, and by Pierius, and by Stephen [containing] about ten thousand six hundred
sayings; concerning this the great fathers who lived in the desert bear witness. It is
also said that this man possessed the power of foretelling events, and living in his cell
he was so great a comforter to the brethren who lived in the desert that no other man
could be compared with him. Now the blessed Evagrius, who was clothed with the spirit, and
was skilled in examining thoughts, used to say, "I never saw any man who had attained more
closely unto im-passibility than Ammonius."

4 Once a certain need of those who were dwelling in the desert called the blessed man
Ammonius, and Rufinus who was at that time the prefect [also] greatly persuaded him, and
he went up to Constantinople. And with him there were also the holy bishops, and other
monks who had come from various provinces [to be present] at the service of restoration of
a certain martyrium which Rufinus had built. And Rufinus wished him to receive him after
holy baptism at the service of restoration of the temple which he had built, and so the
blessed man received him from the bishops who had baptized him. Thus, as was right,
Rufinus paid to the blessed man Ammonius the honour which is due to a life of asceticism,
and he used to listen to him in everything; and after a short time he died and was buried
in the martyrium which is called the "martyrium" of Rufinus," and many helpful acts took
place at his grave on behalf of those who [were worthy] of help.

CHAPTER 12. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED BENJAMIN

1 And there was also in the mountain of Nitria a marvelous man whose name was Benjamin,
who attained to a high state of perfection in the ascetic life, for he had fasted and
toiled for eighty years. Now he was held to be worthy of the gift of the craft of the
physician, and from every wound (or stripe) upon which he laid his hand, and which Christ
blessed or gave [him the power to heal], straightway every pain departed. And this man,
who was worthy of such a gift, collected water in his body for eight months before his
death, and he was so much swollen that he might well have been called a second Job. And
Dioscurus took us, that is to say, the blessed Origen and myself, and said unto us, "Come
ye and see a new Job, who whilst [suffering from] such a severe disease of the body as
this healeth others. And Benjamin gave thanks concerning his affliction beyond measure,
and glorified God continually, and his soul rejoiced and was glad in the hope which it
laid up for the saints. Now when we had gone and seen the swelling of his body we found
that it had become so large that a man could not with all his hand encircle one of his
fingers; and being unable to look upon such a terrible affliction through disease we
turned away our eyes. Then the blessed man Benjamin said unto us, "My sons, pray that the
inner man may not collect water.

2 Even when this my body was in health it in no wise helped me, and now that it is sick it
in no wise hindereth me. Now during the [last] eight months of his illness they made a
broad chair for him, and he used to sit therein always, because he was not able to lie
down upon a bed by reason of the necessity of his belly and of the other [members of his]
body. And whilst he himself lived in such suffering through all his affliction he was
healing others, and it is for this reason that I am compelled to narrate to you concerning
the affliction of this righteous man, so that when such an affliction as this happeneth
unto the righteous we may not hold the matter to be hard. Now when this blessed man died,
the whole of the framework of the doorway had to be removed to enable them to bring out
his body from his cell, for his body was very large indeed.

CHAPTER 13. THE HISTORY OF APOLLONIUS THE MERCHANT

And again another man, whose name was Apollonius, used to dwell in this Mount Nitria; and
he was a merchant who had come there to learn to lead the life and conversation of an
anchorite. Now this man found no handicraft at the exercise of which he could employ
himself, and he could neither fast nor keep vigil like the other ascetics to any great
extent. During the twenty years which he lived in this mountain it was his rule of life
and triumph that by his own labour and toil he used to buy from Alexandria everything
which was required by the brethren, and the things which were needed for the healing of
the sick, and carry them to the sick. And it was a marvellous thing to see him going about
among the monasteries and cells of the brethren each day, from the earliest dawn, when he
set out, until the ninth hour, and he used to stand by the door and say, "Is there,
peradventure, anyone sick here?" And he carried about pomegranates, and dried cakes, and
raisins, and eggs, and the things which are necessary for the sick. Now he found this rule
of life easy to acquire, and to continue until his old age, and he was able to attend to
the affairs of the five thousand brethren who were dwelling in the mountain. And when he
died he left whatever he had unto another man like unto himself, and he begged him to
carry out this ministration, because the [place where the monks lived] was a desert and
was destitute of the things of the world

CHAPTER 14. THE HISTORIES OF THE NATURAL BRETHREN PAESIUS AND ISAIAH

1 And there were also there two brethren, whose names were Paesius and Isaiah, who were
the sons of a certain merchant who traded in Spain; and when their father died they
divided his inheritance between them, and there came to each of them money which amounted
to five thousand dinârs, and furniture, and raiment, and slaves, and property of all
kinds. And these blessed men took counsel together and meditated together and said unto
each other, "By what manner of trafficking shall we live in this world? If we continue to
exercise the trade of our father, we shall only double our labour and toil for [the
benefit of] others; and perhaps [our wealth] will fall into the hands of thieves by land
or of pirates by sea. And whilst they were being troubled by such thoughts as these they
answered and said unto each other, "Let us come to the way of truth, and let us acquire
the life and conversation of the Christians, whereby we shall both keep the benefit of
what our father hath left us, and get possession of our soul. And this proposition
concerning the labour of the dwellers in the monasteries was pleasing unto them, and each
of them found in his discipleship the power to judge as to what work he should embrace.
And having divided their father's inheritance they both possessed the eager care to please
God by the various kinds of labours of life of the mourner.

2 One of them divided everything which had come to him and gave it to the churches and
monastic habitations, and distributed it among the poor and needy; and he learned a
handicraft at which he could work and earn [his] daily bread, and he was constant in
prayer and fasting. The other brother did not distribute [his possessions], but he built
himself a monastery and gathered together unto him a few brethren and providing therefor
became a care unto him. All strangers and poor folk, and all the aged men and sick folk
who thronged unto him he used to receive and relieve their wants. And every first day of
the week, and every Sabbath, he used to prepare three tables and relieve the wants of
every one who happened to be present there; and thus he spent all his possessions. 3 Now,
when the two brothers died abundant blessing was ascribed unto them by the whole
brotherhood, but the one brother pleased some of them [most], and the other the others;
and although the brethren praised both brothers, a dispute arose among them concerning the
superior merit of one or the other of the two brothers. Then the brethren went to the
blessed Pambô and related the matter unto him, and wished to learn which rule of life and
labour was the greater and more excellent. And Pambô said unto them, "They are both
perfect. One man made manifest the work of Abraham by his hospitality, and the other the
self-denial of Elijah. And again the brethren said unto him, "How is it possible for the
two to be equal in merit? We praise and magnify him who embraced poverty, for we find that
he did the work of the Gospel in selling everything that he had and giving it to the poor,
and that every day, and at every season, both by day and by night, he took up his cross
and followed after his Lord by his fasting and his prayers. And again the other brethren
contended with them, saying, "The other brother showed such supreme compassion on those
who were strangers and on those who were afflicted that he would even sit in the highways
and gather together the passers-by who were in trouble;

4 and not only did he relieve his own soul, but he also brought a lightening unto many
souls that were heavy laden, and he would make ready the dead for the grave and bury
[them]. And the blessed Pambô said unto them, "Again I say unto you that both are equal
[in merit], and I will tell you how each of them became so. Unless the one had fasted he
would not have been worthy of the goodness and compassion of the other, and again, the
other in relieving the wants of strangers also lightened his own load, for although a man
may think that he hath trouble in receiving [them] yet he also gaineth rest of body. But
tarry ye here a few days so that I may learn [the answer] from God, and come ye [back] to
me and I will declare [it] unto you. And after a few days they came unto him, and they
asked him to tell them what had been revealed unto him; and he answered and said unto
them, I have seen them both standing in the Paradise of Eden, as it were in the presence
of God."

CHAPTER 15. THE HISTORY OF MACARIUS, THE CHILD OF HIS CROSS

1 There was also a certain youth whose name was Macarius, and when he became a young man
about eighteen years old, he used to pasture flocks and herds, along with [other] young
men of his own age and position, by the side of the lake which is called Mareotis, and
without wishing to do so he unwittingly committed a murder; and without saying a word to
any man he straightway rose up and departed, and he went out and journeyed into the
desert. Thus he attained to the fear of God, and to the love of men, in such wise that he
esteemed himself lightly; and he passed three years in the desert, in the open air, and
without a roof [over his head]. Now in that country no rain falleth, and this every one,
so to say, knoweth, either from hearsay or from actual experience. And after three years
he built himself a cell, and he dwelt therein for five and twenty years [and performed]
great labours; and he was held worthy of the divine gift of being able to treat with
contempt the devils, and he was completely happy in the ascetic life and in the noble
labours thereof. Now I dwelt hard by this man for no short time, and once I asked him,
"What is thy thought about the sinfulness of that murder [which thou didst commit]? And he
said unto me, I am entirely untroubled by it, for I am bound to confess that the sin of
[this] involuntary murder was the good cause of the redemption of my life, and the
testimony of the Book confirmeth this view, saying not even Moses, the servant of the
Lord, would have been held worthy of the divine vision unless, through fear for the murder
which he had committed, he had forsaken Egypt, and come unto Mount Sinai, where he was
held to be worthy of converse with God, and to compose the commandments of the spirit."

2 Now we speak these things, not because we wish to help murder, but only in order that we
may particularly shew that spiritual excellences spring from tribulations, when a man is
not of his own will persuaded to draw nigh unto goodness. Some spiritual excellences arise
from the will, and some from tribulation; and in the works which I have found appended to
this history I have discovered that the murder which Macarius committed belonged to this
latter class. And Macarius prayed always, and he prayed with his arms and hands extended
in the form of a cross. And when he had drawn nigh to the end of his course, which was not
caused by illness, at that time [I say] he stood up in the corner of his cell, and
extended his hands and arms in prayer, and thus praying he yielded up his spirit. And when
he who used to bring him food came and saw him standing by the side of the wall with his
hands stretched out, he remained standing outside thinking that Macarius was standing up
in prayer, as was his wont. Then, having waited for about three hours, he opened the door
and went in, and he said unto him, "Bless, master! And when he did not answer him he drew
nigh and shook him; and when he saw that he was dead he came to us and told us, and having
come we saw him standing in the form of a cross, and we marvelled.

3 Now when we had laid him out upon the ground we were unable to bring his hands nigh unto
his body, and so we dug his grave in the form of a cross and laid him in it. And I was
sorely grieved because of his departure, and I fell into a slumber and slept, and a voice
came unto me, which said, "Inasmuch as during his lifetime he loved the cross, which he
bore through his good works, in it also he shall have his rest; in the form of that which
he desired longingly hath he been buried, and in the same form shall he stand up at the
right hand on the day of Christ. And having heard these things I awoke, and I glorified
God and the power of the Cross.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE (CHAPTERS 16. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED NATHANIEL [DIED ABOUT 376 A.D.]–30. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN THAIS OR THAISIS)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE continued

CHAPTER 16. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED NATHANIEL [DIED ABOUT 376 A.D.]

1 And there was also another man among the aged ones whose name was Nathaniel, and him I
never met in his life, for he died fifteen years before I entered into this mountain; but
I have met those who dwelt with him for a long time. And having made enquiries of these I
learned concerning the triumphs of the man, and they also shewed me his cell wherein at
that time no man was living, because it was nigh unto the world; but Abbâ Nathaniel built
it long ago when the monks were few in number. 2 Now they used to relate concerning this
man that his patient endurance in his cell was such that he never moved from his place to
go outside the door of his habitation for the disposition of his will. At the beginning he
was laughed at by the Evil One, who mocketh at and leadeth astray every man, and he made
Nathaniel to feel weariness in his first cell, and he went and built himself another cell
in the neighbourhood of the city. Now after he had built the other cell and had dwelt
therein, some three or four months later the devil, who had waged war against him from the
beginning, came by night holding in his hand a sling like a hunter, and he was dressed in
the garb of the Romans, and he was slinging [stones] with the sling which he was holding.
Then the blessed man Nathaniel answered and said unto him, "Who art thou who doest these
things in the place wherein I dwell? The devil said unto him, "I am he who made thee to
flee from thy first cell, and I have come that I may make thee to flee from this place.
Now when he knew that the devil was laughing at him because he had departed from his first
[cell], straightway he turned and went back thereto, and he lived in his first cell for
the space of thirty and seven years in such strict abnegation that he never passed outside
the door, and meanwhile he was warring with the devil.

3 And the wicked devil made him to experience so many afflictions and troubles in order to
drive him out of his cell that it would be impossible for [any] man to recount them. But
the Evil One watched [and obtained his opportunity] in the arrival of the Bishops who came
to Nathaniel (now they were all holy men), and whether the ordering of the matter was due
to the will of God, or to the temptation of the Evil One, we know not, but he made
Nathaniel to fall away somewhat from his intention. For when the Bishops had prayed and
had gone forth, Nathaniel did not escort them the distance of one step, and the servants
who were with them said [to him], "Dost thou possess the faculty of pride that thou wilt
not accompany the Bishops? Then Nathaniel said unto them, "I died once and for all to my
lords the Bishops, and to the whole world, and I have a secret matter concerning which it
is God only Who knoweth my heart, and why I did not go forth and escort them."

4 Then that devil, who was still making a mock of this self-abnegation, nine months before
Nathaniel's death took upon himself the form of a young man who was about twenty years
old, and he was following after an ass which was carrying bread in the bed of the river.
Now when it was far into the evening the young man passed close to the cell, and pretended
that the ass had fallen down under its burden, and he began to cry out, and said, "Abbâ
Nathaniel, help me, and come and render me assistance." And Nathaniel heard the voice of
the young man who he thought was crying out, and he opened the door, and as he was
standing inside, he spake with him, and said unto him, "Who art thou? And what dost thou
want me to do for thee?" And the young man said unto him, "I am such and such a young man,
and I am carrying bread to such and such a brother because he wisheth to make a love
feast, and the day which dawneth to-morrow will be the Sabbath, and [bread for] the
Offering will be necessary. I beg of thee, therefore, not to tarry in assisting me, lest
the hyenas come and devour both me and the ass." Now there were many hyenas in that place.

5 Then the blessed Nathaniel stood still in great astonishment, and he was much troubled
in his mind by the mercy which had revealed itself to him, and he meditated within
himself, saying, "It is either through the command of God that I must fall, or through my
will [having reached] its limit." Finally he meditated within himself and said, "It is
better for him who hath guarded for all these years the limit of his will, and hath not
passed over his door, to remain in the same condition which will put the Evil One to shame
than to go out"; and he prayed to God. Then he made answer unto him whom he believed to be
a young man crying out, and said unto him, "Young man, hear me! I believe that the God
Whom I serve will send thee help if it be needed by thee, and that neither the hyenas nor
anything else will harm thee; but if thou art a temptation may God discover thy
craftiness!" And he shut the door and held his peace. And that devil was put to shame, and
by reason of his wickedness he took the form of a whirlwind and the forms of wild asses
which dance about and skip and break wind. This is the [story of the] triumph of the
blessed Nathaniel, and this is the [story of] his labour and of his ending.

CHAPTER 17. THE HISTORY OF THE TWO EXALTED AND EXCELLENT MEN, MACARIUS THE EGYPTIAN, THE DISCIPLE OF MAR ABBA ANTHONY, AND MACARIUS THE ALEXANDRIAN

1 Concerning the holy and immortal fathers, that is to say Macarius the Egyptian, and
Macarius the Alexandrian, who were men to be feared and who were invincible athletes, and
concerning the strife of their life and deeds, and conversation, it is exceedingly right
and good that we should tell the story. Perhaps it will not be accepted by the
unbelievers, and therefore I find it difficult to relate their history, and to set it down
completely in writing, lest by so doing I should be accounted a liar; and that the Lord
destroyeth those who speak falsehood the Holy Spirit maketh clearly manifest. Now, as I
myself do not put to the lie the help of Christ, do not thou, O Lausus, thou believer in
men, become an unbeliever in the triumphs of the holy fathers which are spoken of, but
adorn thyself more and more with the deeds and conversation of these glorious men who were
in very truth, even as they are called, blessed men.

2 The athlete of Christ, the first Macarius, was by race an Egyptian, and the second
Macarius, although he was second to him in the matter of age, was nevertheless first in
the opinion of the monks (or solitaries); and this man, whose name also was Macarius,
which is interpreted "blessed," was from the city of Alexandria, and he was [one] of those
who sold dried fruit and wine. In* another manuscript I have found a different version [of
the history of the two Macarii which I have used] in the preparation of [this] history,
and I set this down here also; now it reads as follows: And as concerning the two blessed
men whose names were the same, inasmuch as their rule of life and conversation were of an
exceedingly exalted character, perhaps many will not believe [what I write]. I, however,
am afraid lest I may understate and belittle their triumphs in any way whatsoever, and lie

3 * This is a note of a careful scribe or editor. 4 113 concerning them, for it is
written, "Thou wilt destroy those who speak falsehood" (Psalm xii, 3). The Holy Spirit
hath passed this sentence upon me, therefore, O beloved and faithful men, believe ye me.
Now one of these two blessed men was an Egyptian by race, and the other was an Alexandrian
who sold dried fruits. First of all I will tell the story of the ascetic excellences of
Macarius the Egyptian, the whole of whose years were ninety; he was thirty years old when
he went up to the desert, and [he] lived therein for sixty years. And he was given the
gift of [performing] mighty deeds in such a remarkable manner that he was called by the
fathers "the aged youth," because straightway and quickly he ascended to the highest grade
of ascetic excellence and gifts, and to the power of interpreting the Scriptures, and to
spiritual foresight. And the gift of possessing power over devils was also given to him,
and he was also esteemed worthy of the priesthood. With this blessed man there lived in
the further (or inner) desert, which is called "Scete," two disciples; one of these was
his servant, for many folk were wont to come unto him to be healed, and the other remained
always in a cell which was nigh unto Macarius.

5 And when much time had passed by, Macarius looked and said unto him that ministered unto
him (now his name was John, and he afterwards became the elder in the place of the blessed
man), he answered, I say, and said unto him, "Hear me, O John, and receive the rebuke with
which I rebuke thee. For thou art suffering temptation, and behold the spirit of the love
of money (i.e., avarice) tempteth thee, for even so have I seen. And I know that if thou
wilt listen unto me thy end in this place shall be praised, and no harm shall draw nigh
unto thy habitation. But if thou wilt not hearken unto me, because of the love of money
which moveth thee, the leprosy of Gehazi (2 Kings v, 27) shall come upon thee at the end.
And it came to pass some fifteen or twenty years after the death of the blessed man, John
forgot his commandment, and because he used to steal from the poor, his body became so
covered with leprosy that there was not in the whole of it one sound spot large enough for
a man to lay his finger upon. Thus the prophecy of the blessed Macarius concerning John
actually came to pass.

6 Now if we were to attempt to describe the food and drink of the holy man, we should do
what is superfluous, because among the thoughtless monks who lived in that place there was
not to be found any one thing which could lead to excess either in eating or drinking;
first because of the poverty of the spot, and secondly because of the divine zeal which
they display towards each other. But I may mention his sad and stern habits of self-denial
in various other ways. And they relate concerning him that he was at all times in a state
of wonder at some divine vision, and that he used to become like a drunken man by reason
of some hidden vision, and that his mind was more often exalted unto God than it was
concerned with the things which are in this world, and those which are under the heavens.
And, as concerning the wonderful things which God wrought by his hands, it is not seemly
that we should keep silence, and of him the following marvellous things are told.

7 A certain Egyptian loved another man's wife, but since he was not able to incite her to
love him and to make her yield to his will, he spake unto a certain magician, saying,
"Make this woman to love me, or employ thy sorcery in some way so that her husband may
hate her, and cast her out." Now when the magician had received money not a little, he
made use of his sorceries, and he made the woman to appear in the form of a mare; and when
her husband went into his house from outside, and saw her, astonishment seized him [at the
sight of] a mare lying upon his bed. Then he lifted up his voice in a sorrowful cry, and
he wept tears, and heaved sighs; and he spake with her, but she made no reply unto him,
and she answered him not a word. And having seen what had taken place, he went to the
elder of the village (i.e., the Shêkh al-Balad), and told him concerning this matter, and
brought him and took him in and shewed him what had happened. And for a space of three
days he knew not what the matter was, for the mare neither ate dried grass like an animal,
nor did she partake of bread like a daughter of man; and she did without food of either
kind. Finally, however, in order that God might be glorified, and a miracle might also be
made manifest at the hands of the blessed Macarius, and his spiritual perfection be made
known, it entered into the mind of the man who was the woman's husband to take her to the
desert to the blessed Macarius. And having saddled her like a mare, and thrown over her a
halter, like an animal, he led her away and departed to the desert.

8 And when the man arrived at the cell of the blessed Macarius, the brethren who were
standing by the side of the cell of the blessed Macarius saw him, and they wanted to keep
back the husband of the woman, and strove with him, saying, "Why hast thou brought this
mare into the desert?" And the man said unto them, "That she may receive mercy, and be
healed." They said unto him, "What aileth her?" And he answered and said unto them, "She
is a woman who hath been suddenly transformed into a mare, and behold, she hath eaten no
food for three days." Then the brethren went and told the blessed 115 9 8a Macarius what
the matter was, and when they came to inform him they found him standing inside [his cell]
and praying for her, for God had already revealed this matter unto him, and he was praying
for the woman. And the holy man Macarius answered and said unto his disciples: "Ye are
mares which have the eyes of horses; but that mare is a woman. She hath not been changed
from her nature of a woman except in the sight to those who have made a mistake; and that
she appeareth as a mare is only an error of the sight of those who see her." Then the
blessed man took water and blessed it, and he threw it over her head and it ran down all
over her body; and the blessed man prayed and straightway he made her to appear in the
form of a woman to every man. Then he gave her some sacramental bread and made her to eat
it before every man, and then he sent her away healed with her husband; and they departed
from him rejoicing and praising God. And the blessed man exhorted the woman, and said unto
her, "Be not at any time remote from the Church, and deprive not thyself of the Holy
Mysteries, for all these things have happened unto thee because for five weeks thou didst
not partake of the Offering."

10 Let us now speak about his other excellences, and also of his sad and stern habits of
self-denial in other particulars. Now because the large numbers of people who came to be
blessed by him gave him much trouble, he thought out the following plan in his mind. He
dug out a passage (or trench) in his cell which was about twenty measures [in width], and
he made from it a tunnel of considerable length, [and it extended] from his cell to the
distance of half a mile; at the place where the passage came to an end he made above the
end of it a small cave. And when large numbers of people came to him and troubled him, he
used to leave his cell secretly and pass along hidden by the tunnel and hide himself in
the cave, where no one could find him. Now he used to do this whenever he wished to escape
from the vain praise (or glory) of the children of men. And one of his most strenuous
disciples told us, saying, "As he was going from his cell to the cave he used to recite
four and twenty antiphons, and as he was coming back four and twenty also; and whenever he
went from his cell to the church he used to pray four and twenty prayers during his
passage [thither], and four and twenty as he was coming back." And moreover, they say that
he gave life to a dead man in order that he might convert a certain heathen who did not
believe in the resurrection of the dead, and this was spoken of throughout the desert.

11 Once a certain unmarried man who was vexed by an evil devil was brought unto Macarius,
being carefully fettered by two other men, and his mother had caused him to be brought
unto him. Now the devil used to act upon him in the following manner. After he had eaten
three baskets of bread and drunk three bottles of water he used to vomit, and scatter the
bread and water in the air in the form of smoky vapour, and in this wise his food and his
drink were consumed in waste, even as anything which is cast into the fire is consumed.
Now there are certain kinds of devils which are called "fiery," for there are varieties
among devils even as there are among men, in disposition if not in nature. And inasmuch as
his mother had not that wherewith to satisfy him, he used to eat his own offal and drink
his own water; and his mother besought the blessed man with tears on behalf of her son,
and Macarius took him and prayed over him, and entreated God on his behalf. And a day or
two after he had healed him of his trial, the blessed man cried unto the mother of the
young man, and said unto her, "How much hast thou need of for the food of one day for
him?" And she said unto him, "Ten pounds of bread." Then he rebuked her and said, "Thou
hast said too much." And after seven days Macarius made the young man so that he needed to
eat three pounds [only, which was sufficient for him] to work upon and live. Now this
miracle God wrought by the hand of the blessed Macarius, whose soul now sojourneth with
the angels. I never saw this man, for he died one year before I entered the desert.

CHAPTER 18. THE HISTORY OF MACARIUS THE ALEXANDRIAN, THE GLORIOUS

1 As for the other Macarius, the Alexandrian, I did see him, for he was an elder in the
place which is called the "Cells," wherein I myself lived for nine years, and he lived for
three years after I entered therein; some of [his] wonderful acts I myself have seen, and
some of them I have learned from others, and [of others] I have also heard rumours. Now
his sad, stern life of self-denial was as follows: Whensoever he heard of any beautiful
deed being done by any man whatsoever, he must straightway carry it into practice in a
fuller form. He once heard from a certain man that all the brethren of Tabenna never
tasted any food whatsoever which had been cooked by fire during the whole of the Forty
Days' Fast, and he straightway determined within himself that for seven years he would not
eat any food which had been cooked by fire, and that he would not partake of anything
except young wild herbs, and vegetables which had been made soft by soaking in water, or
similar things. And when he had completed this rule of life he heard of a monk in a
certain monastery who only ate one pound of bread each day, and he straightway broke his
bread into pieces and cast it into a vessel with a narrow mouth, and he determined within
himself that he would eat nothing that his hand could not draw up out of the vessel the
first time [he put it in].

2 And time after time, he used to tell the story with a smile, and say, "When I put my
hand down I could fill it readily, but I could not draw it up full because the mouth of
the vessel was [too] narrow, and it would not let me take it out full. Now he lived this
hard life for three years, and ate [daily only] four or five ounces of bread; and of water
also he only drank sufficient to enable him to eat his bread. Of oil [he took] only one
flask each year, making use of it only on the great First Day of the Resurrection, and on
the great day of Pentecost, and at the Nativity, and at the Epiphany, and when he received
[the Mysteries] during the Forty Days' Fast. I will tell also of the various other
practices of his sad, hard life. He determined [once] to vanquish sleep, and it is related
that he never entered under a roof for twenty days, and that he was burnt up by the
exceedingly great heat of the sun at noonday during all this time, and that during the
nights he was without rest. And he himself told us, "Had I not quickly gone in under a
roof and slept, and rested myself the brains in my head would have dried up, and I should
become like a drunk man.

3 But," he would say, "I have been conquered against my will, for although the nature of
the body hath been overcome I have given it what it needeth." 4 And again, once when he
was sitting in his cell a gnat bit him in the leg and he suffered pain, and he crushed the
gnat in his hand and killed it. Then straightway he despised himself because he had
avenged himself upon the gnat, and he passed upon himself the sentence that he should go
to the place which is called "Scete," that is to say, the inner desert, and sit there
naked for six months. For there were many great gnats (i.e., mosquitoes) there, and they
were so savage that they could pierce the skins of pigs, and they resembled wasps; and his
whole body was so eaten and swollen that a man would have thought that he had the hide of
an elephant, and when he came [back] to his cell six months later they could only
recognize from his voice that he was Macarius.

5 And again he desired greatly to go and see the garden of Jannes and Jambres, the
magicians of Egypt, because, as he himself told us, they had obtained power, and riches
and dominion, and had built there a tomb, and had established there great works in marble;
now their tomb was ornamented with many things, and they had also placed there gold and
things of a marvellous character, and trees and plants, for the place had been made into a
garden, and they had also dug a well there. Now because Macarius did not know the way, he
observed the course of the stars, and travelled thereby; and thus he journeyed through the
open desert as upon the sea. And he took with him also a bundle of thin reeds, and at the
end of each mile he used to drive a reed into the ground like a rock, so that he might be
able to find the way when he had to come back. And when he had journeyed for nine days,
and had drawn nigh the place wherein was the tomb, the Evil One, who always wageth war
against the athletes of the Lord, gathered together all the reeds which the blessed man
Macarius had driven into the ground, and put them under his head for a pillow whilst he
was asleep, when he was about one mile from the garden, and when the blessed man woke up
he found the reeds.

6 Now it is probable that God permitted this thing to happen for His own glory and for the
triumph of His servant, so that Macarius might not put his confidence in reeds, but upon
God, Who by means of a pillar of cloud led the children of Israel in the desert for forty
years. And Macarius told us, saying, "Seventy devils came forth against me from that
garden, and they flew about before my face like ravens, and they were crying out and
groaning, and saying, 'What seekest thou here, O Macarius? What seekest thou, O monk? Why
hast thou come hither? Thou canst not stay here.' And I said unto them, 'I only want to go
in and see [the garden], and then I will depart.' And I entered therein, and I saw
everything, and [I found] hanging over the well an iron chain with a brass bucket, but
they were rusted through age; and the pomegranates which were therein were dried up and
burnt by the sun. And having seen [the garden] he turned and came back in twenty days.

7 Now when he was coming back he lacked water, and the bread also which he had carried was
finished, and he was nigh to perish, and was in great tribulation through thirst, when
suddenly he saw a damsel who was arrayed in a spotless linen garment and who carried a
pitcher of water wherefrom water dripped, and she was distant about half a mile from him.
Then he followed her for three days, thinking that he would overtake her and drink, but he
did not do so, although she seemed to him to be standing still in one place and bearing a
pitcher. Then he despaired of obtaining water to drink, and he was brought very low, when
suddenly there appeared unto him there a herd of buffaloes. And among them there was one
which had with her a little sucking calf, and she stood still before him; and he drew nigh
and sucked milk from her. And she came with him through all the desert even unto his cell
and gave him milk to drink, and she would not let her calf suck from her in those days.

8 And on another occasion the brethren were digging a well in a certain place which was
called Thrônôn, when a serpent which belonged to the class of deadly serpents bit him.
Then Macarius took hold of the serpent with his two hands by his upper and lower lip and,
grasping him tightly, tore him in twain, from his head even unto his tail, and said unto
him, "Since Christ did not send thee, why didst thou dare to come [here]?" Now the blessed
man had four cells in the desert: one in Scete, in the inner desert, one in Libya (?), one
in the "Cells," and one in Mount Nitria. [Two] of these were without windows, and in them
he used to dwell in darkness during the Forty Days' Fast, another was so narrow that he
could not stretch out his legs, but another, wherein he used to receive the brethren who
came unto him, was wide and spacious. And he healed so many people who were possessed by
devils that no man could count them. Once when I and the blessed Evagrius were there in
his cell they brought unto him from Thessalonica a certain virgin who had been a paralytic
for many years, but by means of prayers and by anointing her with oil with his hands he
cured her in twenty days and sent her away whole to her city and home; and when she had
departed she sent to him gold and goods of various kinds.

9 And again, he heard from a certain man that the monks of the Monastery of Tabenna lived
stern lives of self-denial, and he took counsel with himself, and put on the garb of a
young man and a husbandman, and in fifteen days he went up to the Monastery of the Broken
Ones by the way of the desert, and came to the Monastery of Tabenna, seeking to see the
head of that Monastery whose name was Pachomius. Now Pachomius was a man elect and
perfect, and he had the gift of prophecy, but the [business] of the blessed Macarius was
hidden from him. And when Macarius saw him he said unto him, "Abbâ, I beseech thee to
receive me into thy monastery that I may be a monk therein." Pachomius said unto him,
"Thou art an old man, and art not able to fast. The brethren are men who fast, and thou
canst not endure their labours, and because thou art not able to do this [thou wilt] be
offended, and thou wilt go forth and wilt abuse them"; and he would receive him neither
the first day nor the second day, nor any day until seven days [were passed]. But since he
remained fasting throughout all these days he said unto the head of the monastery, "Abbâ,
receive me. And if I do not fast like unto you, and toil as ye do, command them to cast me
out;" so the head of the monastery persuaded the brethren to receive him. Now the number
of the members of the brotherhood of that monastery were four hundred men, [and they are
thus even] unto this day; and they brought in Macarius.

10 And when a few days had passed, the Forty Days' Fast drew nigh, and Macarius saw that
large numbers of the brethren kept the fast and observed the rule of the house in various
ways. There were some who ate daily at eventide, and some [who fasted for some] nights,
and there were also some who ate once in five days; and some stood up the whole night
through, and sat down in the daytime. And the blessed man Macarius took a large quantity
of leaves of date palms, and brought them [to his cell], and he stood up in one corner
thereof, and he neither touched bread nor water, nor bent the knee, nor lay down, until
the forty days had passed, and the days of unleavened bread had come; but each Sunday he
used to eat a few moist cabbage leaves so that he might pretend to be taking food.
Whensoever he went outside his cell for a needful purpose he returned straightway and
stood up in his place without speaking a word unto any man; and he stood in his place and
held his peace, and he used to do nothing else except pray within himself, and as he stood
up he wove rope of the palm leaves.

11 And when all the brethren saw him they made a tumult against the head of their
monastery, and said unto him, "Whence hast thou brought upon us this man, who hath no body
and who is incapable of being tired out, to judge us and to take vengeance upon us?
[Either send him away and let him depart], or know that we all will go away. Now when the
head of the monastery had heard from the brethren concerning the fasting of Macarius and
his rule of life, he prayed to God and entreated Him to reveal to him who this man was,
and it was revealed unto him by God. Then he went and took him by his hand, and he brought
him to the house of prayer to the place where the altar was stablished, and he answered
and said unto him, "Come, O blessed old man, thou art Macarius, and thou hast hidden
thyself from me. For many years past I have earnestly desired to see thee, and now I thank
thee that thou hast broken the heart of the brethren somewhat, so that they may not
imagine any longer that they observe their fast with excessive rigour. Go then in peace to
thy place, for in no slight measure hast thou edified us, and do thou continue to pray for
us"; then Pachomius having persuaded him, Macarius departed from thence.

12 And Macarius used to say, "Every kind and variety of rule of the life of self-denial
and fasting which I have desired to observe with all my heart have I kept, but there came
upon me the desire that my mind should be with God in heaven [if] only for five days, and
that I should be exalted above the anxious cares and thoughts of material things. And
having meditated upon this thing, I shut the door of the courtyard and of the cell, and I
constrained myself so that I might not give a word to [any] man. And I continued thus, and
I began [to fulfil this thought] on the second day of the week, and I commanded my mind,
and said unto it, 'Thou shalt not descend from heaven, for behold, there thou hast angels,
and the princes of angels, and all the hosts which are in heaven, and especially the Good
and Gracious God, the Lord of all. Thou shalt not come down from heaven.' And continuing
thus I was sufficient for this thing for two days and two nights, and I constrained the
Evil One to such a degree that he became a flame of fire and burnt up everything which I
had in my cell, and at length the very mat upon which I stood blazed with fire, and I
thought that I should be wholly consumed. Now when, finally, fear of the fire took hold
upon me my mind came down from heaven on the third day, because I was unable to keep my
mind collected in the state in which it had been, and I came down to the contemplation of
the world and the things thereof. And this happened so that I might not boast."

13 And on another occasion I went to his cell, and I found a priest lying there by the
side of the door; his whole head was consumed, and was eaten into holes by the disease
which is called cancer, and the bone of his skull was shewing through. Now this man had
come unto him to be healed, but Macarius did not wish to see him. And I myself besought
the blessed man and said unto him, "I beseech thee to have mercy upon him, and to give
unto him a word. Then he answered and said unto me, "He is not worthy to be healed, for
[this] punishment was sent upon him from God. But if thou desirest that he shall be healed
persuade him to forsake the ministration at the altar, for he used both to be minister at
the altar and to commit fornication, and for this reason he was punished. Persuade him
then to forsake [his ministrations], and God will heal him. And having said these things
to the sick man he pledged himself and swore an oath, saying, "I will never minister at
the altar again"; and afterwards Macarius received him, and said unto him, "Dost thou
believe that God existeth? and the priest said unto him, "Yea, master. And again Macarius
said unto him, "Peradventure thou art able to scoff [at God]," and the priest said unto
him, "Nay.

14 Then the blessed man said unto him, "If now thou dost acknowledge thy folly, and also
that thy punishment was from God and that it was a fitting punishment for thy deeds, first
of all confess thy transgressions. And the priest gave a promise that he would not sin
again, and that he would not minister at the altar, but that he would lead a life which
was suited to the capacity and grade of those who were in the world; and Macarius laid his
hand upon him, and in a few days he was made whole, and the hair grew upon his head
[again], and he went to his house healed whilst I was looking at him. 15 And again a
certain young man who had an evil devil was brought unto him and he laid one hand on the
head of the young man and another on his heart, and he prayed until he made the devil to
rise up in the air, whereupon the young man breathed out his breath and became like a
great [empty] skin bottle; and he suddenly uttered a cry, and water flowed out from all
parts of his members, and he was made whole and became as he was before the devil entered
into him. Then Macarius anointed him with the oil of the martyrs, and commanded his father
that he was not to taste flesh or wine for forty days, until he was thoroughly healed. And
again on a certain occasion certain thoughts of vainglory vexed him, and urged him to go
forth from his cell and to depart and heal the multitudes in Rome and to give assistance
unto those who were lying [there] sick, for the grace and might of God were inciting him
greatly to heal those who were possessed of devils and to make whole those who were
diseased; but although he was much disturbed in his mind [on this matter], yet he was not
persuaded to go, for the Evil One greatly pressed upon him in his thoughts. Finally,
however, he lay down inside the door of his cell, and having set his legs (or feet) on the
threshold, he cried out and said, "Pull, unclean devils, pull hard, for I will never go
[thither] on my legs, and if you are able to carry me you must do so thus." And he took an
oath to them [i.e., the brethren], saying, "I continued to lie thus until the evening, and
if ye had not lifted me up, I should never have moved from my place." And when the night
had come he stood up.

16 And again, on another occasion, when these thoughts were mounting up [in his mind] he
filled with sand a basket which held two or three bushels, and lifting it on his shoulders
he began to wander about [with it] in the desert. And his kinsman Theosebius the
Antiochian met him and he said unto him, "What art thou carrying on thy shoulders, father?
Tell me, so that I may carry thy load, and that thou mayest not toil thyself." And he said
unto him, "I am making to work that which hath made me to work, for it wisheth to go forth
from its state of rest, and it fatigueth me"; and having walked about for a long time he
went into his cell, having exhausted his body. 17 And one day there laid hold upon me the
chills of fever, and I went and sat down, and watched him from the window (or opening in
the wall), in the feebleness of his old age. And I was thinking about him that he was like
unto one of the brethren of old, and I began to listen unto him that I might see what he
was saying, or what he was doing; now he was alone inside [his cell], and he was one
hundred years old, and moreover, his teeth had fallen out by reason of his old age. And I
listened unto him and to what he was saying, and he was striving with his soul and with
Satan, and he was saying unto himself, "What dost thou wish for, O thou wicked old man?
Behold, thou hast eaten oil, and thou hast drunk wine, what more dost thou wish for?
Wouldst [thou] eat Satan's white food?" And he was reviling himself. And moreover he said
unto Satan, "I cannot conquer thee in any wise, and thou art not able to do anything unto
me; get thee gone from me." And again he said unto himself, "How long shall I be with
thee?"

18 And moreover, Paphnutius, the disciple of this man, related unto myself and unto the
blessed Evagrius, saying, "One day a female hyena took her whelp, which was blind, and
came and knocked with her head at the door of the court when he was sitting therein, and
she dropped the whelp at his feet. And he took up the whelp, and prayed, and spat in its
eyes, and straightway its eyes were opened and it saw; and its mother gave it suck, and
then took it up and went forth. And one day later she brought unto the blessed man a
sheep-skin cloak, that is to say, a skin which hath been stripped off a sheep; and the
blessed woman Melania spoke unto me concerning this sheep-skin cloak, saying, 'I myself
received this sheep-skin cloak from the hands of Macarius as a blessing." And Paphnutius
also spake thus, "From the first day whereon he received baptism he never spat upon the
ground, and he lived for sixty years after his baptism."

19 Now in his latter days he was beardless, and he only had a small quantity of hair upon
his [upper] lip and upon his chin; because by reason of his excessive fasting and the
abstinence of his solitary life not even the hair of [his] beard would grow. I once went
unto him when weariness of the ascetic life had laid hold upon me, and I said unto him,
"Father, what shall I do? For my thoughts vex me, and say unto me, 'Thou art doing no
[good], get thee gone from here.'" And he said unto me, "Say unto thy thoughts, 'For
Christ's sake I will guard these walls.'" I have written for thee these few things out of
a very large number concerning the life and deeds of the holy man Macarius, and concerning
the solitary monks who were his companions; and everything is indeed true. I entreat all
those brethren who read in this book, or who desire to take a copy therefrom, not to
forget [to write] after [this section] the narrative which is found in certain of the
codices at the end of the above history which relateth unto the matters of Macarius, as if
these histories had been composed by Hieronymus, but they must know that of a certainty
that they were composed by Palladius. For I have found the absolute ending of this book
which belonged to the histories of the matters of Macarius, with an apology and a preface
which were composed by Palladius [and addressed] to Lausus the Prefect, wherein he maketh
known concerning all the various kinds of the divers histories of men and of women which
were composed by him; and I will prepare this apology and preface, and by the help of God
I will write them down in the proper place.

CHAPTER 19. OF THE BLESSED MAN PAUL THE SIMPLE, THE DISCIPLE OF ABBA ANTHONY

1 Now there was a certain husbandman whose name was Paul, who was more simple and innocent
in nature than are [usually] the children of men; and he had a wife who was beautiful in
her appearance, and wicked in her deeds and actions, and she had wandered from him and had
been committing adultery for a long time. And one day, suddenly Paul went into [his house]
from the field, and he found her and another working impurity together; now this took
place so that Divine Grace might incite Paul [to follow] that which was more excellent.
And having [gone in and] seen them, he laughed chastely, and answered and said, "It is
good, it is good, truly she is not accounted mine by me. By Jesus, henceforth I will not
take her again. Get thee gone, and behold she is thine, she and her children: and as for
me, I will go and become a monk. And saying nothing unto any man he went away a journey of
eight stages, and he arrived at the cell of Mâr Anthony the Great. And having knocked at
the door, the blessed man Mâr Anthony went out, and he said unto Paul, "What dost thou
seek? Paul said unto him, "I seek to become a monk. Mâr Anthony answered and said unto
him, "[Thou art] an old man eighty years old, and it is impossible for thee to become a
monk here;

2 but depart to the village, and work in the fields for thy living, and give thanks unto
God at the same time that thou art not able to endure the afflictions of the desert. And
again Paul answered and said unto him, "Whatsoever thou wilt teach me, that will I do.
Anthony said unto him, "I have told thee that thou art an old man, and thou canst not [do
it]; but if thou wishest to become a monk, get thee gone to some monastic house, and abide
where the brethren are many, and where they will be able to bear with thy sickness (or
infirmity). As for me, I live by myself alone here, and I only eat once in five days, and
even then I do not eat a full meal. With these and suchlike words did Anthony frighten
Paul. And as he would not be persuaded to depart, Anthony went into [his cell], and shut
the door upon himself for three days, and because of him he did not go outside his cell
for three whole days, not even for his need's sake. Nevertheless Paul did not go away; and
on the fourth day, when his need compelled him, Anthony opened the door and went forth.
And again he said unto Paul, "Get thee gone, O old man, why dost thou trouble me? It is
impossible for thee to stay here. Paul said unto him, "It is impossible for me to die in
any other place except this."

3 And the blessed Anthony, having looked carefully and seen that he was carrying no food
with him, and no bread and no water, and that he had fasted during the four days which he
had remained, said within himself, "Peradventure he will escape and die, and will plunge
my soul in tribulation"; so he accepted him and brought him into [his cell]. And because
of Paul during those days Anthony performed exceedingly severe ascetic labours, the like
of which, even in his early manhood, he had never performed. And he soaked [palm] leaves
in water, and gave them unto Paul, and said unto him, "Take these palm leaves, and weave a
mat therefrom even as do I myself." And the old man Paul took [them], and wove them [into
a mat] fifteen cubits [long], until at the ninth hour he was exhausted. And Anthony,
seeing what he had woven, was angry with him, and said unto him, "Thou hast woven [the
leaves] loosely, unweave [them], and weave [them] over again neatly and closely." And Paul
unwove what he had woven, and wove the leaves over again, but still he wove too loosely,
because the leaves had become twisted through [the former] weaving and unweaving.
Meanwhile Paul was fasting all these days, and Anthony laid these hard labours upon him
while his soul was vexed with hunger, so that he might become disgusted and depart from
him.

4 Now when Anthony saw that Paul was neither angry nor wrathful, and that he made no
complaint, his mercy made itself manifest; and behold when Paul had lived [there another]
day, he said unto him, "Dost thou wish to eat a piece of bread?" The old man Paul said
unto him, "As it pleas-eth thee, father." And this also especially shamed Mâr Anthony,
that he did not hasten in his desire to the promise of food, but that he cast all his
desire upon him. Thereupon Anthony said unto him, "Set the table and bring bread." And
Anthony placed on the table four loaves, each of which was of the weight of about six
ounces, and he dipped them in water because they were dry, and he placed one before
himself and three before Paul. And having placed them [there] he sang a psalm which he
knew twelve times, and he recited twelve prayers that he might try Paul, but Paul prayed
with him in gladness; and after the twelve prayers they sat down to eat in the late
evening. Having eaten one loaf Anthony did not touch another, but the old man Paul ate
slowly, and [when Anthony had finished] he had still some of his loaf [to eat], and
Anthony was waiting for him to finish it. And having finished it, he answered and said
unto him, "Little father, wilt thou eat another loaf?" And Paul said unto him, "It thou
wilt eat another I will also; but if thou wilt not, I will not." Anthony saith unto him,
"I have had enough, for I am a monk." And Paul said unto him, "I also have had enough, for
I also seek to become a monk." And after these things Anthony again stood up, and made
twelve prayers, and when they had said together the psalms twelve times they slept for a
little during the night, and then they sang and prayed until the morning.

5 And when Anthony saw that the old man was carrying out with gladness a rule of life
similar unto his own in every respect, he said unto him, "If thou art able to bear every
day passed in this wise, then stay with me." Paul said unto him, "Although I know nothing
else, yet the things which I do know I can perform easily"; and on another day Anthony
said unto him, "Behold, thou hast become a monk." And a few months afterward when Anthony
saw that his soul was perfect before God, and that he was simple beyond measure, and that
Divine Grace was helping him, he built him a cell at a distance of about three or four
miles away, and said unto him, "Behold, thou art a monk, and henceforth thou must live by
thyself so that thou mayest receive the temptation of devils." Now when Paul had lived by
himself for a year, the gift of healing and of casting out devils was given unto him

6 And in those times they brought unto Anthony a certain man who was vexed by a fierce
devil, and that devil was one of the princes of the devils, and he was so fierce that he
would even revile and blaspheme the heavens. And when Anthony saw the man he said, "I
cannot heal this man, for [over this race of princes] neither the gift nor the power [of
healing] hath been given unto me; unto Paul it belongeth to heal this man. And Anthony
therefore took them with him and went unto him, and said unto him, "O Abbâ Paul, cast out
this devil from this man, so that, being made whole, he may depart to his house. Then Paul
said unto him, "And what wilt thou do? And Anthony said unto him, "I am not able to do it,
for I have other work [to do]"; and he left the man with Paul and went [back] to his cell.
Then the old man Paul rose up and prayed a prayer with great feeling, and he began to
speak unto that devil, saying, "Father Anthony saith, 'Go forth from this man.'" And the
devil answered with blasphemies, saying, "I will not go forth, O thou who eatest white
bread"; then the old man took his shoulder garment (or skull cap), and began to smite the
devil on his back and sides, saying, "I tell thee that Abbâ Anthony saith, 'Get thee forth
from him'; whereupon the devil began to curse and revile Abbâ Anthony and the old man
Paul.

7 Finally Paul said [unto him], Wilt thou go forth, or must I go and tell Christ, yea
Jesus? For if thou wilt not go forth I will go and tell Christ, and great woe shall come
upon thee"; and again he blasphemed and said, "I will not go forth. Then was the blessed
man Paul wroth with him, and he went out from his cell; now it was the season of noon, and
the heat with the Egyptians [at this time] is so fierce that it is akin to the heat of the
fiery furnace of the Babylonians. And he stood upon a stone and prayed, and spake thus,
"Behold, O Jesus Christ, Who wast crucified in the days of Pontius Pilate, I will not come
down from this stone, and I will neither eat nor drink until I die unless Thou dost cast
out that devil from this man, and dost set him free from him. And whilst these words were
yet in his mouth the devil cried out by reason of his tribulation, and said, "By Hercules,
by whom am I ruled, by Hercules, I am being persecuted with violence, for the simplicity
of Paul pursueth me; whither shall I go? Paul saith unto him, "To the uttermost depths of
the abyss";

8 and straightway the devil went forth from the man, and he transformed himself and became
like unto a mighty dragon seventy cubits long, and he wriggled along the ground and in
this wise went down to the Red Sea, that might be fulfilled that which is written,
"Perfect faith removeth mountains" (St. Matthew xvii, 20). This is the triumph of Paul,
who was called the "Simple" by the whole brotherhood.

CHAPTER 20. OF THE BLESSED MAN PACHOMIUS

1 And there was also another man whose name was Pachomius, who was seventy years old and
who dwelt in that mountain which is called Scete; unto him I once went when lustful
thoughts concerning women were afflicting me, and when my mind was dark and obscured by
the thoughts of lust, and by the visions and heaviness of the nights, and when I was well
nigh departing from the desert, for lust laid upon me many things [hard to bear]. Now I
did not reveal unto my neighbours and unto the brethren who were living with me my
tribulations, and not even unto my master Evagrius; but I went forth and I began to wander
about in the desert, and I saw one of the old men who had grown old in the place—now they
were all perfect fathers—and after this I saw this blessed old man Pachomius, and I found
that he was superior to them all in his life, and deeds, and in his understanding. And I
took courage to reveal unto him the strife of my mind, and he spake unto me thus: "Do not
imagine that this is a strange matter in any way. This thing hath not happened unto thee
through thine own negligence, and the place itself in which thou livest is a witness for
thee, for it is restricted in the matter of things of every kind, and there is no woman
therein; this lust hath fallen upon thee through [thy] strenuousness.

2 For this warfare of lust and also of fornication is of a threefold [character];
sometimes it setteth our body against us when it is healthy and well fed, and at others
lust itself, with the natural passion which is implanted in us [attacketh us], and at
others the Evil One himself because of his envy. And I have watched many times, and I have
found that it is even as I have said unto thee. And he said unto me, "I, the old man whom
thou seest, have lived in this cell for forty years, and I have taken the utmost care for
my life and for the redemption of my soul, and even in this period of great old age,
wherein thou seest that I am, I am greatly tormented by lust." 3 And he assured me with an
oath, saying, "When I was fifty years old lust placed itself [upon] me for twelve years,
never going away from me either by day or by night, and I thought in my mind that God had
forsaken me, and therefore (for to such an extent had lust gained dominion over me) I
determined in my heart that I would either suffer death through dumb beasts, or that I
should become a laughing-stock or a man condemned through the lust of the body. And I went
forth and wandered round about in the

4 129 desert, and I found a den of hyenas, and I laid myself down naked at the entrance
thereof that they might come out and devour me. And when it was evening—as it is written,
'He hath made the darkness, and it becometh night, wherein all the beasts of the forest do
move (Psalm cxiv, 20), and the lions roar to break [their prey]'—the hyenas, both male and
female, came out, and they all sniffed at (or smelt) me, and licked my body from my head
to my feet, and while I was thinking that they would eat me they went away from me; and
there I remained the whole of that night, and they ate me not. And again I thought that
God had had compassion upon me, and straightway I returned and came to my cell. And that
devil of lust, having forborne with me a little, returned once again, and moreover he
attacked me more fiercely than before, and he did so with such vigour that by reason of my
affliction I well nigh cursed myself.

5 Now, this devil of lust used to take the form of an Ethiopian damsel whom I saw in my
early manhood gathering canes in the summer, and he came in her form and sat upon my
knees, and he used to set me on fire with lust to such an extent that I imagined I was
having intercourse with her, and when through the burning of my heart and the madness
thereof, I gave her the cheek, straightway she would lift herself up from me and take to
flight. And from the time when I touched her my hand was so polluted that for the space of
two hours [afterwards] whensoever I brought my hand near me I was unable [to free it] from
her foulness. But again I went forth because of my affliction, and I began to wander about
in the desert, and I found a small asp, and I took it and placed its head upon the members
of my body, and I squeezed the head of the asp so that it might bite me and I might die,
and so find relief, but it bit me not. And after this I heard a voice which came to my
ears and said unto me, 'Depart, Pachomius, and be strong;

6 I have allowed thee to be overcome in order that thou mightest not imagine that thou
wast a mighty man and a man of perfection, and that thou hadst triumphed through thine own
life and deeds, but that thou mightest know thine infirmity, and the feebleness of thy
nature, and that thou mightest not rely upon thine asceticism but mightest confess the
help of God and cry out to Him always.' And having heard these words I returned to my
cell, and I dwelt therein with great boldness of heart, and I never again had anxious care
concerning this warfare of lust, but I continued in peace for the rest of my days after
this warfare. Now, the devil of lust, seeing that I no longer meditated about the matter,
never again approached me. With these words about the striving against Satan the holy man
Pachomius confirmed me, and he made me strong to play the man more and more, and to be
mighty in the warfare against the devil of fornication, and he dismissed me and said unto
me, "Be strong and mighty in our Lord."

CHAPTER 21. OF THE BLESSED MAN STEPHEN

1 Stephen was a man who was by race of the Libyans who [dwell by] the side of Marmarica
and Mareotis, and he lived there for sixty years. Now in another codex [the text readeth]
differently, thus: There was also in the desert a certain blessed man whose name was
Stephen, and he was by race a Libyan from the border (or side) of Marmarica; and he dwelt
there in the desert for sixty years. And having attained unto the heights of a perfect
rule of life, he was esteemed [by Divine Grace] worthy of the gift of discerning prudence
and of the faculty of giving consolation to such an extent that whosoever drew nigh unto
him, being afflicted in any way whatsoever, departed from him with joy. Now the blessed
Anthony was acquainted with this man. And this Stephen continued in this life even unto
our own days, but I never lived with him and I never met him, because the mountain
[wherein he dwelt] was a long way off from me. The holy men Ammonius and Evagrius,
however, who went to visit him related unto me stories concerning him, and they said,
"Having gone to him we found him grievously sick of a certain sore sickness which had come
upon him, for a cancerous sore had broken out in the lower parts of his body; now this
sore is called 'gangrene,' and we found him being cut by a certain physician.

2 Nevertheless the holy man was working with his hands and was plaiting [palm] leaves, and
he held converse with us whilst portions of his body were being cut off. And he possessed
the faculty of patient endurance to such a degree that it seemed as if the body of some
one else was being cut instead of his own; now when his members had been shorn off like
hair he continued, through the grace of God, to be without perception thereof. And whilst
the physician was binding him up he sat still and plaited baskets with his hands, and he
conversed with us, rejoicing and giving thanks unto God. And moreover, he displayed such
patient endurance whilst his member was being cut off that one might have thought that it
had not been cut off at all, and he resembled altogether a man from whose body threads of
hair are being plucked. Now we stood there and marvelled at this affliction, for we could
not bear to see the man who had led a life of such ascetic and spiritual excel-

3 131 9a lences fall into such a state of suffering that at length amputation of his
members was necessary. And the blessed man, having perceived our thoughts and seen that it
grieved us, answered and said unto us, 'O my sons, be not ye afflicted concerning this
matter, and do not lessen your faith because of this thing, for God never performeth
anything whatsoever that is evil, on the contrary, He looketh for a happy conclusion [to
His work]. Oh, how many were the times when these members were condemned to punishment!
For they merited being cut off, and it is better that they should receive their reward
here than after their departure out of this world.' These were the things which he spake
unto us, and he comforted us and sent us away, say- 'ing, Be not ye scandalized when ye
see trials of this kind coming upon holy men, for by such God hath built us up and
comforted us, and hath made us to be confirmed in the laws which are against
tribulations.'" I have related these things in order that we may not wonder when we see
the saints falling into tribulations.

A Preface concerning those who have fallen into the Errors of Sins

4 It is very necessary, O my brethren, that we should also keep in memory the histories
which concern the life and deeds of those who have tripped up and fallen as an excellent
admonition of those who come across this book (just as among the trees that were in
Paradise the Tree of Good and Evil was also found), so that if it happen that certain men
lead good lives through the Grace and help of God, Who is wont to help those whose motive
of soul is [directed] straight to the mark, they may not be exalted overmuch and have
pride in their works of ascetic excellence. For on many occasions this very excellence
itself hath been the cause of a fall when it hath not been made perfect by means of a
correct motive, for it is written, "I have seen the righteous man who hath perished in his
righteousness, which also is vanity" (Ecclesiasticus vii, 15).

CHAPTER 22. OF VALENS THE PALESTINIAN

1 And there was a certain man whose name was Valens, who was by race a Palestinian and by
education a Corinthian; now the blessed Paul ascribed to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians
iv) as a special attribute the passion of pride and inflatedness. And having come to the
desert and dwelt with us for many years, at length he arrived at such a degree of vaunting
that he was laughed at by the devils; and from this state he went astray, little by
little, until he was derided by them, and they became able to make him think that angels
were appearing unto him. Now therefore one day, according to what they relate concerning
him, as he was working in the dark at the labour of his hands, the needle wherewith he was
sewing together the palm leaves fell down [on the ground], and although he searched for it
he could not find it; and a devil lit a fire for him until he found it, and because of
this thing he became the more proud. And at length he became so proud, and allowed such
arrogant thoughts to rise up in his mind that he despised and thought scorn of the Holy
Mysteries of the Body and Blood of Christ. And moreover, it came to pass that certain men
of discernment came and brought unto the church some dried fruits as a [means of obtaining
a] blessing, and the blessed Macarius, our elder, received [them] and sent [them] to the
brethren, that is, some to every man in his cell, and among the brethren he also sent
[some] to Valens. And Valens took the man who had been sent to bring the fruit to him, and
heaped insults upon him and smote him, saying, "Go and say unto Macarius: 'I am neither
inferior unto thee'' 'nor am I more of a servant than art thou, that thou shouldst'' 'send
me a blessing.'"

2 Now Macarius knew that he had been laid hold upon by error, and he rose up and went unto
him at the turn of the day that he might persuade him, and he said unto him, "Valens,
Valens, thou hast made thyself a laughing-stock, and hast fallen into error; receive then
correction"; but seeing that he was unwilling to hearken unto his admonition and reproof
he left him and departed. And having become more confirmed in his pride, and having
reached the summit thereof, that devil, who had completely led him astray, went and made
unto himself a form wherein he resembled our Redeemer; and he came unto him by night,
together with phantoms of angels in great numbers who marched along bearing lamps and wax
candles, and they advanced with chariots and carriages of fire, as if that devil were
Christ Himself. Then one of the angels came forward unto him, and said unto him, "Christ"
loveth greatly thy life and deeds, and thy boldness of speech, "and He hath come to see
thee. Get thee forth from thy cell, and do nothing whatsoever except such things as I
shall tell" thee. When thou seest Him afar off fall down and worship "Him, and go back to
thy cell. Now therefore when Valens had gone forth and seen the ranks [of phantoms]
bearing lamps of fire, and Antichrist himself sitting upon a chariot of fire—now he was
distant from him about a mile—he fell down and worshipped him.

3 And Valens was so much injured in his mind that at the turn of the day he was
sufficiently mad to come into the church and to say before all the brotherhood who were
assembled therein, "I have no need to become a partaker in the offering, for this day I
have seen Christ Himself. Then the fathers tied him up and put iron fetters upon him for
about the space of one year, and in this way they made him whole; and he was praying
continually, and they humbled him and brought him down from the exalted conception which
he held concerning himself by means of sundry and divers works of a lovely and humble
character, and thus they rooted out from him pride, even as it is written, "Each opposing
sickness must be healed by medicines which are contrary and opposite thereto."

CHAPTER 23. OF HERO THE ALEXANDRIAN [BISHOP OF DIOSPOLIS ABOUT A.D. 365]

1 And there was also my neighbour, a man whose name was Ahrôn (Hero), who was by race an
Alexandrian; now his early manhood was exceedingly glorious, and he was enlightened in his
mind, and his intellect was keen, and the habits of his life were pure. This man, I say,
after [performing] many labours was also seized by the passion of boasting and
pridefulness, and he wavered and fell; and he evolved in his mind and imagined great
things against the fathers, and he reviled also the blessed Evagrius, saying, "Those who
allow themselves to be persuaded [into accepting] thy doctrine certainly go astray and
err, for [men] require no other teacher than Christ." And he put forward and urged in
witness of his words, with foolish intent, the speech from the Gospel (which our Redeemer
also spake), "Ye shall call no man master on the earth" (St. Matthew xxiii, 8). And his
understanding became so greatly blinded that at length on him also iron fetters fell, and
he was fast bound, because he would neither be persuaded nor would he receive or be a
partaker of the Holy Mysteries, although he loved the truth greatly. Now, the food upon
which he lived was too little and the habits of his life were immeasurably strict, for,
according to what those who were continually with him used to relate, on several occasions
he only partook of a meal once in three months, the participation in the Mysteries only
being sufficient for him; but if it happened that he came across some wild herbs by chance
[he would eat them].

2 Now I myself, with the blessed man Albinus, received an experience of him when we were
going to Scete. Scete was forty miles distant from us, and we partook of two meals and
drank water three times [on the way], whilst he tasted nothing at all during his journey
with us. He travelled on foot, and he was repeating [passages] from the Scriptures by
heart; during the time that he went with us, he repeated [passages] from the Scriptures
and sang fifteen Psalms, and he repeated the Beatitudes and the Epistle to the Hebrews,
and [the book of] Isaiah the Prophet, and a portion of Jeremiah, and after [that] the
Gospel of [Saint] Luke, and after [that] the Proverbs; and in spite of all this we were
unable to overtake him as he trudged along. Now therefore this man was at length
persecuted by lust as by a fire, and he was never again able to dwell in his cell, but he
went to Alexandria, and by reason of his pride it happened unto him, through Divine
Providence, even as it is said, "One good is rooted up by another. Nevertheless, having
fallen willingly into a state of indifference, he finally found redemption. Now he was
present continually at the shows of the theatres and circuses, and he was never absent
from the public drinking rooms of the taverns; and thus whilst he was leading this life of
prodigality and drunkenness he fell and was brought to a standstill in the miry ditch of
the lust of women.

3 At length he went to one of those women who are at the head of the grade of harlots, and
because of his passion with all boldness he held converse with her, and these things
having thus been done by him there broke out in the place of his nature a carbuncle which
grew with great vigour, and his sickness waxed sore upon him for a space of six months,
and his members rotted away and they had to be cut off. By these means he became finally
cured, but he remained without members; and afterwards he went back again to the integrity
of [his] nature, and to divine thoughts. [And he came to the desert] and confessed all
these things to the fathers, and though he remained not a long time [there] he did not
flee from leading the ascetic life, nor from weeping because of what had happened to him,
nor from offering up the repentance which was meet. And after a few days he died and
departed from this world.

CHAPTER 24. OF PTOLEMY THE EGYPTIAN WHO WAS IN SCETE

And there was also another man whose name was Ptolemy, and he was by race from Egypt, and
he observed a rule of life which no man is able to describe, or rather it is very
difficult to relate the story of his life. He dwelt away beyond Scete in that [district]
which is called "Klimax." Now the place which is thus called it is impossible for a man to
dwell in by reason of its ruggedness, and it was distant from the stream of water
wherefrom the brethren used to draw twelve miles. Now this man Ptolemy used to take many
vessels for water, and carry [them] to a certain spot where much dew fell, and in December
and January he used to collect it, for in those countries the dewfall is abundant. And
having gathered together for himself water in sponge[s] from time to time they were
squeezed out by him, and the water which he had collected from the dew ran out, and this
he was in the habit of doing during the fifteen years which he dwelt there. Now this man,
having for much time been deprived of doctrine (or teaching), and of the meetings with the
holy fathers, and of the intercourse of edifying speech, and especially of participation
in the Mysteries, went as wholly astray from the straight path as if he had said, "The
matters of service, that is to say, the Holy Mysteries, are nothing at all." And from this
state he senselessly departed and went on until at length he went into Egypt and delivered
himself over to prodigal and riotous living, and he never more spake a word of excellence
unto any man. And his madness came upon Ptolemy also because of the senseless and exalted
opinion which he held of himself, even as it is written, "Those who are not under the law
of the governors shall fall like leaves."

CHAPTER 25. OF ABRAHAM THE EGYPTIAN

And there was also a certain man whose name was Abraham, and he kept a rule of life of the
sternest hardness in the desert; and he was hurt in his understanding by reason of the
vain opinion which he held concerning himself. One day he came to the church and strove
with the elders, saying, "I have been made an elder by Christ during the past night, and
ye must associate me in the ministrations of the priesthood." And when the fathers had
come to a decision concerning him, and had brought him out of the desert, they laid a
light rule of life upon him, and in this manner they cured him of his arrogance, and
brought him to the state of being sensible of his feebleness, and of having knowledge of
his infirmity, through which the devils made a mock of him.

CHAPTER 26. OF A CERTAIN VIRGIN WHO WAS IN JERUSALEM

And moreover, I saw a certain virgin in Jerusalem who had been clothed in sackcloth for
three years, and she had secluded herself in a solitary cell, and had never permitted
herself to enjoy any of the desirable things wherein there is pleasure. Now this woman,
having been forsaken by the Divine Providence, because of her immeasurable pride and
arrogance fell into the ditches of fornication, and she opened the window of the
habitation in which she had secluded herself, and received [the rein] the man who
ministered unto her, and she had intercourse with him. And because she did not continue to
persevere in faith and in the ascetic life with a perfect will, and with a mind which
possessed Divine love, but [departed therefrom] for the sake of men, that is to say, for
the sake of vainglory, doing so, moreover, with an evil intent and with a corrupt and
lascivious mind—for her own thoughts having been cut off, since they had been robbed of
the Divine understanding, she came to the condition of casting blame upon others—the
guardian of chastity did not remain with her.

CHAPTER 27. OF THE VIRGIN WHO WAS IN CAESAREA OF PALESTINE*

And again there was a certain virgin who was the daughter of an elder in Caesarea, and
having been beguiled and led astray by a man, he who led her astray taught her to bring an
accusation against a certain reader of the church of the city. And the time having arrived
when it was known [unto all] that she was with child, and being called upon by her father
to confess her matter, she made an accusation against that reader. Now her father, the
elder, because he believed [her] implicitly, made known the matter unto the Bishop, and
the Bishop was a holy man, and a fearer of God, and one who did not hastily pass sentence
of death or punishment upon any man, and then only when it was revealed unto him by God
whether he who was accused before him was indeed guilty [or not]. So the Bishop went and
shut himself up until the matter was made plain [unto him]; and because God informed him
that the reader had never been nigh unto the woman he held him to be innocent, and
condemned the virgin.

CHAPTER 28. OF A CERTAIN WOMAN WHO FELL AND REPENTED

1 There was a certain virgin who was a nun, and who dwelt with two other nuns, and she had
led a life of abstinence and voluntary self-denial for nine or ten years. And having been
beguiled and led astray by a certain singer of Psalms, she tripped, and fell, and
conceived, and gave birth to a child; now she hated with the fullest hatred him that had
beguiled her. [And she repented within herself with a perfect repentance,] and she
followed after repentance with such vigour that she went beyond the bounds of what was
seemly, *See Chapter xix. 2 and she continued to observe fasts with such self-denial and
strictness that she well nigh died of hunger. In her prayers she used to make
supplication, saying, "O God, Who dost support and sustain all creation, and Who desirest
not the death and destruction of those who err and commit sin, if Thou wishest me to live
before Thee, shew me a marvellous thing in this matter, and gather in this fruit of sin
which I have brought forth, lest, because I cannot again attain to chastity, I kill myself
through reproach and disgrace." And having made supplication for this thing, she was
hearkened unto, and he who had been born unto her did not remain very long alive. And from
the day wherein she fell and onwards she neither saw him that had beguiled her and led her
captive, nor held converse with him, but she gave herself to frequent fasting and to
ministering unto the women who were sick and smitten with disease for the whole of a
period of thirty years; and thus her repentance was accepted by God, and He at length
revealed unto a certain holy old man concerning her, saying, "Such and such a woman is
very much more pleasing unto Me by her penitence than by her virginity." Now I write down
these things in order that, if any man be observing a correct rule of life of any kind
whatsoever which is pleasing unto God, he may take heed lest he fall, and that even if he
be tripped up in a snare and fall he may not come to despair, and remain in his fallen
condition, but that by leaning upon the staff of the hope of the Divine Mercy, and by
arraying himself through repentance in the apparel of simplicity and humility he may again
become strong enough to stand up, for we should not despise those who truly repent.

CHAPTER 29. OF ANOTHER VIRGIN WHO FELL AND REPENTED

1 A certain virgin, the daughter of an elder in Caesarea of Palestine, having been
beguiled and led astray by a man, fell, and he who had beguiled her instructed her to make
an accusation against a certain reader of the church of the city. And the time having
arrived when her conception became known, and being called upon to confess her matter by
her father, she made the accusation against that reader, and the elder, her father,
thereupon, like one who believed [her] implicitly, made the affair known to the Bishop.
Then the Bishop laid his hand upon the shrine, and commanded that the reader should be
called, and his affair having been enquired into, like one who was confident in his own
integrity, he was unwilling to confess [that he had done the wrong]; for how was it
possible for him to accuse himself of that which he had not done? And the Bishop becoming
angry said unto him, "Wilt thou not confess, O wretched and polluted man, thou guilty one
who art full of uncleanness?" And the reader made answer unto him, saying, "Master, I have
neither knowledge nor feeling about this matter, for my thoughts and mind are clean in
respect thereof, and [no thought] concerning this woman hath ever entered my mind. But if
thou wishest to hear that which hath never taken place [I will say that] I myself
committed the offence"; and having spoken thus, the Bishop straightway removed the reader
from his position. Then the reader drew nigh and entreated the Bishop, saying, "Master,
since I have tripped up and fallen, give the command that the woman be given unto me to
wife, for I am no longer a cleric, and she is not a virgin"; so the Bishop gave the woman
to the reader to wife, because he thought that he was held by love of her, and that he
could not cut the affair concerning her out of his thoughts.

2 And when the reader had received the woman from the Bishop, he placed her in a religious
house for women, and he begged the woman who ministered unto the wants of the sisters to
take great care of her straightway. Now a short time afterwards the day arrived wherein
she must give birth to her child, but the poor creature was not able to bring it to the
birth, and although she could hardly bear the cruel and violent pains of her birth-pangs
which were bringing her to the house of the dead, her child did not come forth. And one,
two, three days passed by until the seventh [day arrived], and by reason of her great and
frequent sufferings the woman was nigh to come unto Sheol; and she neither ate, nor drank,
nor slept, but she was crying out and saying, "Woe unto me, for I am dying, and I made an
accusation of fatherhood against such and such a reader. Now the women who were standing
before her having heard these words made them known to her father, who, however, fearing
lest he should be blamed severely because he had made an accusation of fatherhood against
the reader, held his peace concerning the matter for another two days; and meanwhile the
young woman neither gained relief from her sufferings nor died.

3 Now therefore when the nuns could no longer bear the pain of her violent shrieks, they
ran and told the Bishop, saying, "Such and such a woman hath for some days past been
crying out and confessing that she made an accusation of fatherhood against the reader.
Then the Bishop sent deacons unto him with the message, "Pray thou that the woman who made
an accusation against thee may have relief"; but the reader answered them never a word.
Now he had not opened his door since the day on which the accusation had been made against
him, but he entreated God and made supplication unto him that the matter might become
known and the truth revealed. Thereupon the father of the woman went to the Bishop, and
prayer was offered up in the church, but even by these proceedings the woman did not
obtain relief. Then the Bishop rose up and went to the reader, and knocked at the door and
the reader opened [it] to him, and he went in to him and said, "Eustathius, rise up and
unloose that which thou hast fastened. And at once the reader knelt down with the Bishop,
and they prayed to God, and straightway the woman gave birth to her child. Thus were the
supplication of this man and his constant persistence in prayer able to clear away
oppression and to chastise and rebuke also the woman who made the false accusation, for
from that day onwards she fulfilled the days of her life with good works;

4 and we should learn to be constant in prayer and to recognize the power thereof when it
is offered unto God with the deep feeling of the whole heart.

CHAPTER 30. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN THAIS OR THAISIS

1 And now I desire to narrate unto you the excellent history and the great repentance of
the blessed woman Thais or Thaisis, for speech concerning her is most excellent, and it is
full of encouragement and penitence of soul unto those who love God. Now this woman had a
mother who, because her daughter was beautiful of face, made her to take up a position in
the market, and the rumour of her beauty travelled unto every place, and those who were
living afar off desired greatly to see her; and no man who looked upon her was satisfied
with the sight of her face, because she burned like a flame of fire into the hearts of
those who saw her, and many by reason of their mad love for her sold whatever property
they had to her parents that they might have commerce with her. Now when Bessarion, the
servant of God, heard these things concerning this woman and that through her beauty she
was dragging many to destruction, he arrayed himself in the apparel of a man who was in
the world, and took with him one dinâr and went unto her, and when he saw her he brought
forth the dinâr and gave it to her; and having taken the dinâr she said unto him, "Let us
go into a room," and he said unto her, "Yea, let us go in.

2 And having gone in, the blessed man Bessarion saw the couch which was laid out, now it
was a very high one, and the woman said unto the old man, "Come, get up on this bed"; and
he said unto her, "Hast thou not inside this chamber another room? and she said unto him,
"Yea. Then he said unto her, "Let us then go in there. And Thais answered and said unto
him, "If it be that thou art ashamed of men [seeing thee, know] that no man can see [us]
in this chamber; but if it be God of Whom thou art afraid He can see us in whatsoever
place we enter. And the blessed man Bessarion hearing these words, said unto her, "My
daughter, dost thou know that God existeth? And she said unto him, "Yea, I know that God
existeth, and [that there will be] kingdom, and judgement. Then the old man said unto her,
"If thou knowest that God is, and [that there will be] kingdom and judgement, why dost
thou destroy men in this manner? And straightway the woman cast herself at his feet, and
said unto him, "I know that there is repentance for those who sin. But I beseech thee,
master, to tarry with me for three hours, and whatsoever thou wishest to do unto me that
do because of all the evil things which have been wrought by me"; and having told her in
what place he would await her he left her and went away.

3 Then in that same hour the woman took everything which she had gained by fornication and
burnt it with fire in the midst of the city, and she said, "Come, O all ye who have had
commerce with me, and see that I am burning before you eyes every possession which I have
gathered together by means of sin"; and the things which were burned were [worth] three
hundred pounds of gold, and there were there also goods and apparel of all kinds; and
after she had burned up everything she went to the blessed man Bessarion. And when
Bessarion saw her he took her by her hand and led her along and brought her to a religious
house of sisters, and he shut her in a little cell, leaving her only one small window in
the wall through which a woman passed in food to her. And the blessed Bessarion said unto
the head of the house, "Give her a pound of dry bread each day, and water according to her
need. Then the blessed woman Thais said unto the venerable Bessarion, "With what petition
dost thou command me to pray unto God? That He should forgive me my sins? The blessed
Bessarion said unto her, "Thou art neither worthy to pray unto God, nor to make mention of
His Name with thy lips, nor to stretch out thy hands unto Him; for thy lips are unclean
and polluted, and thy hands are contaminated with impurity;

4 the shalt only sit down and gaze towards the East, and thou shalt say nothing except, 'O
Thou who didst create me, have mercy upon me.'" And having dwelt in that cell for a space
of about three years, the blessed Bessarion had mercy upon her, and the blessed man went
to Abbâ Anthony that he might learn from him whether God had forgiven her her sins or not.
Then having spoken concerning her unto Anthony that blessed man called unto his disciples,
and said unto them, "Let each one of you shut himself in [his] cell all night, and pray ye
unto God that we may see unto whom shall be revealed the matter concerning which the
blessed Bessarion hath come unto us [this day]." 5 And when they all had done as they had
been commanded and when a long time had elapsed, the blessed Paul, the chief of the
disciples of Mâr Anthony, looked into the heavens and saw a couch which had been spread
with great splendour, and three angels who were carrying three lamps were standing before
that couch, and a crown of glory was laid thereupon. And having seen all this glorious
sight, he said, "This couch can only be for my father Anthony." Then a voice came unto him
from heaven, saying, "This couch is not for Anthony, thy father, but for Thais the
harlot"; and the blessed Paul rose up early in the morning and related the vision which he
had seen. And the blessed Mâr Bessarion came back from Abbâ Anthony in great joy, and he
went to the religious house of the sisterhood, and he opened the door that he might bring
the woman out from the cell wherein she was secluded; but she made entreaty unto him,
saying, "Leave me here until my death, for my sins are many." Then the blessed man said
unto her, "Behold the merciful God hath had compassion upon thee, and He hath accepted thy
repentance"; and then she wished to go forth from her cell. And she answered and said unto
him, "Believe me, O Father, from the day wherein I entered this cell I have made all my
sins a mighty burden and I have set it before my eyes, in suchwise that as the breath of
my nostrils hath not separated itself from me, so my sins have not separated themselves
from me until this hour."

6 And the blessed Bessarion answered and said unto her, "God hath not forgiven thee thy
sins because of thy repentance, but because of the thought which thou hadst—that thou
wouldst deliver thyself over unto Christ." Now this blessed woman Thais lived (literally,
made) after her repentance fifteen days, and she departed unto our Lord in peace. Thus was
the crowning of the blessed Thais, who was lost and was found, and was dead and who came
to life by the grace of Christ, unto Whom belong mercy, and compassion, and glory, and
honour, for ever and ever. Amen.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE (CHAPTERS 31. OF THE BLESSED MAN ABBA ELIJAH–52. OF CHRONIUS WHO WAS FROM THE VILLAGE OF PHOENIX)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE continued

CHAPTER 31. OF THE BLESSED MAN ABBA ELIJAH

1 There was a certain man whose name was Elijah who loved the virgins exceedingly, for
there are souls which are thus inclined, and having compassion upon the order of virgins
[and] women who lived celibate lives in Thebes, and in the cities which were [round
about], and in the city of Atrêpe (near Akhmîm), and possessing many flocks and herds, he
built a large nunnery, and he gathered together thereunto every woman who chose to adopt
the garb of the nun, and placed them therein. And with ready will he took care to provide
them with everything which was necessary for them, and he supplied everything required for
their well-being, and he also made a garden for them, and he filled their every want with
great zeal and care, for our Lord's sake. And inasmuch as these women were gathered
together from various places, they used to quarrel with each other continually, and
because it was meet to keep them in order (now he had gathered together about three
hundred), he was obliged to take means to pacify them; and he hearkened unto their affairs
and arranged the disputes which broke out among them for the space of two years.

2 Now this man being young, that is to say being about thirty or forty years old, more or
less, was vexed by the passion of lust, and for this reason he departed from that nunnery,
and wandered about for two days in the desert, and he made entreaty and supplication unto
God, saying, "O Lord, either kill me so that I may not see those who are in trouble and
may not become afflicted thereby, or remove from me this passion, so that I may be able to
provide for the women in everything. And when the eventide had come he lay down and slept
in the desert and, according to what he related, three angels came to him and took hold of
him, saying, "Why didst thou go forth from the nunnery? And he related unto them the
matter and said unto them, "I was afraid lest I should do harm not only unto them, but
unto mine own soul also. The angels said unto him, "If now we make thee to be free from
this passion wilt thou go and take care of the women in the nunnery? And having promised
that he would do this they required from him an oath, and the oath which he uttered was as
follows; the angels said, "Swear an oath unto us," and he said: "I swear by Him Who taketh
care of me, that I will take care of them.

3 Then having laid hold of him by his hands and his feet, one of them took a razor and
mutilated him, not indeed in very truth but only apparently and in a phantomlike manner,
and he imagined in the vision that, as one might say, he had been cured of his malady. And
next they asked him, "Feelest thou that thou hast been helped? And he said unto them, "I
am greatly relieved, and I feel sure that I have been set free from the pain and
suffering, and that I have already been delivered therefrom. Then the angels said unto
him, "Depart and return. And after five days, whilst the women who were in the nunnery
were weeping because of what had taken place, and because he had forsaken them, and
because the care which he had taken for their needs had come to an end, he entered into
the monastery wherein they were; and he dwelt there from that time onward in the cells, in
a place which was nigh unto them, and according to his power he ordered their lives for
them. And he lived other forty years, and he said unto the fathers, "This passion of lust
hath never since roused itself up in my mind"; now this act of grace happened to that holy
man because of care which he exhibited in respect of that nunnery.

CHAPTER 32. OF THE BLESSED DOROTHEOS

Now there was there besides this man Elijah, the chosen man Dorotheos, who had grown old
therein leading a life of excellent and sublime ascetic rule; and as he did not wish to
dwell in the nunnery by the side of the women, as Elijah had done, he shut himself up in a
certain upper chamber, but left therein a window which faced and looked into the interior
of the nunnery; and when he knew that it was proper to do so he used to open it or shut
it. He always sat by the window, and he shewed the women that he knew everything which
they were doing, and by these means they were rebuked and prevented from quarrelling. And
thus he grew old in that upper chamber, and no women ever went up to him, and he was
unable to go down to them, for there was no ladder, and in this manner of life he brought
his days to an end according to the will of God by the help of His grace.

CHAPTER 33. OF THE BLESSED PACHOMIUS THE GREAT, AND OF THE SONS OF HIS MONASTERY, AND OF THE HUNNERIES WHICH WERE IN THE THEBAID

1 In the country of Thebes, and in the district thereof which is called Tabenna, there was
a certain blessed man whose name was Pachomius, and this man led a beautiful life of
ascetic excellence, and he was crowned with the love of God and of man. Now therefore as
this man was sitting in his cell, there appeared unto him an angel who said unto him,
"Since thou hast completed thy discipleship it is unnecessary for thee to dwell here; but
come, and go and gather together unto thyself those who are wandering, and be thou
dwelling with them, and lay thou down for them such laws as I shall tell unto thee"; and
the angel gave him a book (or tablet) wherein was written the following: "I. 'Let every
man eat and drink whensoever he wisheth, and according to the strength of those who eat
and drink impose work; and thou shalt restrain them neither from eating nor fasting.
Furthermore, on those who are strong thou shalt impose severe labours; and upon those who
are of inferior strength and upon those who fast thou shalt impose light labours.

2 " II. 'And thou shalt make for them a cell, and they shall dwell together three by
three. " III. 'And they shall partake of food all together in one chamber (or house). "
IV. 'And they shall not take their sleep lying down, but thou shalt make for them seats so
that when they are sitting down they shall be able to support their heads. " V. 'At night
time they shall put on garments without sleeves, and their loins shall be girded up, and
they shall be provided with skull-caps; and they shall partake of the Offering on the
Sabbath and on the First Day of the Week, wearing skull-caps without any nap upon them,
and each skull-cap shall have in the front thereof a cross [worked in] purple. " VI. 'And
thou shalt establish the monks in four and twenty grades, and to each grade give a letter
of the Greek alphabet from Âlâf to Tâw (i.e., from A to Z); every grade a letter.'"

3 And the blessed Pachomius performed and fulfilled [these things] according as he had
been commanded by the angel; and when the head of the monastery asked him that was next to
him concerning the affairs of the brethren, the man said unto him, "The voice of Alphâ
[and] the voice of Bîtâ salute the head [of the monastery]." Thus the whole of that
assembly of brethren had letters of the alphabet assigned to them, according to the
designation of the four and twenty letters. To those who were upright and simple he
assigned the letter yôdh (i.e., ı), and to those who were difficult and perverse he
assigned the letter ksî (i.e., ξ), and thus according to the dispositions and according to
the habits and rules of life of the orders [of monks] did he assign letters unto them. And
he (i.e., the Angel) commanded that "a monk who was a stranger and who had a different
garb from theirs should not enter in with them to the table; the man who sought to be
accepted as a monk in that monastery was obliged to labour there for three years, after
which he was to receive the tonsure. When the monks were eating together they were to
cover up their faces with [their] head-coverings, that they might not see each other
eating, and might not hold converse together over the table, and might not gaze about from
one side to the other." And he commanded that during [each] day they should repeat twelve
sections of the Psalter, [and during [each] evening twelve sections of the Psalter], and
during [each] night twelve sections of the Psalter,

4 145 and that when they came to eat they should repeat the Great Psalm. And the blessed
Pachomius said unto the angel, "The sections of the Psalter which thou hast appointed unto
us [for repetition] are far too few"; and the angel said unto him, "The sections of the
Psalter which I have appointed [are indeed few], so that even the monks who are small
(i.e., weak) may be able to fulfil the canons, and may not be distressed thereby. For unto
the perfect no law whatsoever is laid down, because their mind is at all seasons occupied
with God, but this law which I have laid down for those who have not a perfect mind is
laid down for them, so that although they fulfil only such things as are prescribed by the
canons they can acquire openness of face." Now very many nuns hold fast unto this law and
canon.

5 And there were living in that mountain about seven thousand brethren, and in the
monastery in which the blessed Pachomius himself lived there were living one thousand
three hundred brethren; and besides these there were there also other monasteries, each
containing about three hundred, or two hundred, or one hundred monks, who lived together;
and they all toiled with their hands and lived thereby, and with whatsoever they possessed
which was superfluous for them they provided (or fed) the nunneries which were there. Each
day those whose week of service it was rose up and attended to their work; and others
attended to the cooking, and others set out the tables and laid upon them bread, and
cheese, and vessels of vinegar and water. And there were some monks who went in to partake
of food at the third hour of the day, and others at the sixth hour, and others at the
ninth hour, and others in the evening, and others who ate once a day only; and there were
some who ate only once a week; and according as each one of them knew the letter which had
been laid upon him, so was his work. Some worked in the paradise (i.e., the orchard), and
some in the gardens, and some in the blacksmith's shop, and some in the baker's shop, and
some in the carpenter's shop, and some in the fuller's shop, and some wove baskets and
mats of palm leaves, and one was a maker of nets, and one was a maker of sandals, and one
was a scribe; now all these men as they were performing their work were repeating the
Psalms and the Scriptures in order.

6 And there were there large numbers of women who were nuns, and who closely followed this
rule of life, and they came from the other side of the river and beyond it, and there were
also married women who came from the other side of the river close by; and whensoever
anyone of them died, the [other] 7 women would bring her and lay her down on the bank of
the river and go away. Then certain brethren would cross over in a boat and bring her over
with the [singing of] psalms and with lighted candles, and with great ceremony and honour,
and when they had brought her over they would lay her in their cemetery; without elder or
deacon no man could go to that nunnery, and then only from one Sunday to the other (i.e.,
they could go only on Sundays). Now it happened that a certain tailor, who was a stranger,
came to that nunnery looking for work, and one of the sisters went forth to talk with him,
and she said unto him, "We have our own tailor"; and one of the sisters saw her speaking
with him, and she held her peace and informed no one concerning the matter. And after a
short time the two women had a dispute about a certain matter, and the sister who had seen
the other talking to the tailor went and brought an accusation against the other before
all the sisters, saying about her in an evil manner, "This is the Satan who hath sown the
strife among us"; and then many of the women having heard [these things] believed [them].
And the sister, not being able to endure the accusation wherewith she had been accused
without cause, by reason of her distress went and cast herself into the river and was
drowned;

8 and when the sister who had made the accusation against the other perceived this, seeing
that she had calumniated her evilly, and that she had caused the sisters pain in a most
serious manner, she also secretly drowned herself. And the elder who had been made
[guardian] of them, knowing this matter, commanded one of them that none of the sisters
who had believed that sister who had made the accusation against her companion should
receive the Offering, and he was not reconciled unto them, and prevented them from
[participating in] the Offering for seven years. 9 Now in that same nunnery there was a
certain sister who was a virgin, and she made herself an object of contempt, and she had
had a devil in her; and the [other] sisters used to treat her so contemptuously that they
would not even allow her to eat with them. And the woman herself was well content at this
[treatment], and she would go into the refectory and serve the food and wait upon the
whole company [there], and she became the broom of the whole nunnery; and indeed she made
manifest that which is written [in the Book of] the blessed Apostle (1 Corinthians iii,
18), who said, "Whosoever wisheth to become a wise man in this world, let him become a
fool in order that he may become wise." And this woman used to throw over her head a
roughly cut piece of cloth, whilst the other women wore veils, well cut and well made,
according to

10 147 10a the rule which they had, and in this garb she used to minister in the
refectory, and they would not allow her to sit down with them at the table. And whilst she
was eating they never looked at her, and she never touched a whole loaf of bread, but used
to eat the broken bits and crusts [that fell] from the tables, and [she drank] the
rinsings of the basins and of the hands, and they sufficed her; and she neither reviled
anyone of them, nor murmured, nor spoke superfluous words, though they constantly reviled
her, and struck her, and thrust her away with harsh words and blows. 11 Now at that time
the blessed Pitéroum (Piterius), that man of wonder, appeared, and he dwelt in the region
which was called "Porphyry Mountain," and an angel appeared unto him and said, "Why
holdest thou in thy mind the proud opinion that thou art more excellent in ascetic
practices than many? If thou wishest to see a woman who is more excellent than thou, go to
the nunnery which is in Tabenna, and behold thou shalt find there a woman [with a roughly
cut piece of cloth thrown over her head] who is far superior to thee in ascetic practices;
and this woman is far more excellent than thou art, for although she ministereth as a
servant to a great congregation her whole heart is set upon God, whilst as for thee,
though thou dwellest here, thy mind wandereth about in many countries. And when the man
who had never gone forth from his monastery had heard those things, he went quickly to the
nunnery, and he besought their visitor (or inspector) that [he might be allowed] to see
the nuns; and when he had gone inside the house they all came that they might be blessed
by the blessed man (Piterius), but the woman who had made herself a creature of contempt
did not show herself at all. Then the blessed man Piterius said unto them, "Have all the
sisters come, for there is one lacking?

12 and they said unto him, "Master, we have one more, but she is a woman of no account,
and she is in the refectory. And Piterius said unto them, "Bring her that I may see her
also"; and they went to bring her, but she did not wish to come, for she felt that the
matter of herself would be certainly revealed unto him. Now since she did not wish to go
to the blessed man they dragged her along and brought her unto him by force, saying unto
her, "Mâr Piterius wisheth to see thee"; and when she had come, the blessed man looked and
saw the roughly cut piece of cloth which was thrown over her head, according to the sign
which the angel had given concerning her. Then he bowed down before her, and said unto
her, "Bless me, Mother," and she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, "Bless thou me,
master. When the sisters saw [this] they were all struck with wonder, and said unto him,
"Let there be no disgrace to thee, master, for she is a creature of no account. Then the
blessed man Piterius answered [and] said unto them, "Ye yourselves are creatures of
contempt, but this woman is your Mother and mine, and I entreat God that He will give unto
me a portion with her in the day of judgement.

13 Now when all the sisters heard this from the blessed man Piterius, they fell down at
her feet, and offered unto her regret for everything which they had been accustomed to do
unto her; for some of them used to throw the rinsings of the vessels over her, and others
used to buffet her, and she endured many insults from them all. So the blessed Piterius
prayed over them and went forth from that place. And a few days afterwards, because the
blessed woman could not endure the honour and the praises of all the sisters, and the
penitence which they showed unto her, she went forth from that house altogether, but where
she went and where she died no man knoweth.

CHAPTER 34. AN APOLOGY, AND PREFACE, AND ADMONITION

1 Now therefore, O my brother, it sufficeth for me that I have called to mind all these
things, and that I have handed them on in writing; for this thing did not happen without
[the Will of] God, because thou wast moved in thy mind to command me to make this
compilation and also to hand down in writing an account of the lives and acts of the holy
fathers. And, according to the command of the love of God which is in thee, I will write
down also the upright lives of holy women who have prospered in the good works of patient
endurance, and afterwards I will also write down the account of the stumblings of those
who have fallen away from a straight rule of life through the pride which seized upon
them, and through the wicked and vain opinion that came upon their souls, and who were
tripped up, and stumbled, and fell through their weakness and the war of the Adversary,
although not of their own will, for after their fall they triumphed still more gloriously,
and acquired rectitude. And I will do this for the benefit of those who are about to meet
with this compilation, so that they may set the edifice of their building upon the firm
ground of humility with zeal and care, and may fly from pride, and may take refuge in
humility;

2 and it shall be my object to write with extreme care concerning the humility of the holy
men, and concerning their long-suffering, and concerning their patient endurance, and the
questions which they asked each other, together with their answers, and the sundry and
divers things which I shall be able to call to mind concerning the lives of the holy
fathers. And, O thou faithful servant of Christ, having lighted upon this book with
pleasure, and having derived therefrom sufficiently a demonstration of the Resurrection,
and of the lives and labours of the holy fathers, and also of their patient endurance, and
being able to grow up in a good hope, and to advance easily in virtues, turn thyself round
for once, so that thou mayest see that which is behind thee, and seeing my feebleness do
thou pray for me. And take good heed to guard thy soul, even as I know thou [hast been
able to do] from [the time when] thou didst hold the consular power of Titianus unto this
day; and again as I found thee when thou wast the prefect and officer of the bed-chamber
of the God-fearing king. For the man who hath such power as this, and who is able to enjoy
himself with wealth in abundance, must not forget the fear of God, and he must take the
greatest care possible to emulate Christ, Who heard from the Calumniator [these words],
"All these things will I give unto thee if thou 'wilt fall down and worship me" (St.
Matthew iv, 9).

3 Therefore take good heed unto thyself, and be vigilant, so that thou mayest at all times
be exalted over the neck[s] of thy secret and invisible enemies. Amen.

The Triumphant Deeds and Exploits and Histories of Holy Women — Of the Virgin of
Alexandria who bid Athanasius

4 Now therefore it is necessary for us to remember also the chosen and mighty women unto
whom God also gave an equal measure of strength of will as unto men, so that they might
have no cause for being feeble in the performance of the labour of ascetic excellence. I
have seen large numbers of widows who were exceedingly glorious and excellent in the
performance of ascetic virtues, and among the chaste virgins whom I saw in Alexandria
there was one whom I estimated to be seventy years old, and all the clergy testified
concerning her that when a young woman, about twenty years old, she possessed exceeding
beauty, and she was more looked at than many women, and because of her beauty she fled
lest she should become the cause of stumbling unto men. Once when the Arians were plotting
against the blessed Athanasius, the Archbishop of Alexandria, and were acting craftily in
respect of him that they might do him harm through the prefect Eusebius, and through the
wicked men who were his partisans in the days of the Emperor Constantine the Less (i.e.,
Constantius), and were spreading abroad infamous reports about him, and were accusing him
of many things which were unseemly for Christians to do, Athanasius fled that he might not
be condemned in their wicked and corrupt hall of judgement, and he told no man, neither
kinsmen, nor friends, nor ecclesiastics, nor any other men [where he was going].

5 And as soon as certain men from among the magistrates had entered into the episcopal
palace suddenly, and begun to search for him and to enquire for him, he rose up at
midnight, and took his tunic, and fled to this virgin who, being greatly astonished and
struck with wonder at the matter, was moved exceedingly. And the blessed Athanasius said
unto her, "Because I am sought for by the Arians, who are making unseemly accusations
against me, and because I do not want to spread about an unseemly opinion of myself, and I
wish not to prepare a great punishment for those who would be condemned for my sake, and
be made guilty for me, I determined to betake myself to flight, and God gave me a
revelation this night, saying, There is no other person with whom thou canst find deliver-
'ance except this virgin.'" Now therefore because of her exceedingly great joy she removed
from herself and set aside all thoughts [of shame], and she became wholly [the servant] of
our Lord, and she hid that holy man for the whole period of thirty years, that is to say,
until the death of Constantine. She used to wash his feet, and she prepared everything of
which he had need, and she attended to his bodily wants, and whatsoever he needed that she
provided, and she borrowed books and brought [them] to him; and no man in Alexandria knew
during that whole period of thirty years where the blessed Athanasius was.

6 And when the death of Constantine (i.e., Constantius) was announced, and Athanasius also
heard thereof, he rose up and came by night and he was suddenly found to be in the church,
and all those who saw him marvelled as they looked carefully at him, for he was like unto
a man who had risen from the grave. And he made an apology to those who truly loved him,
and spake unto them, saying, "I did not flee unto you, for the reason that there might not
be unto you an occasion for swearing [false] oaths. And moreover, because of the search
and enquiry which they were sure to have made for me I fled unto that woman concerning
whom no man could suspect of harm, for she is young and beautiful. And I have gained two
things, my own life and hers; I have helped her in many things, and I have taken care and
preserved myself."

CHAPTER 35. OF DIAMON THE VIRGIN

1 Piamon was a virgin who lived all her days with her mother, and she spent her nights in
constant vigil, and she ate food at the time of evening, and she laboured at the [weaving
of] linen; and she was held to be worthy of the gift of knowing what was going to happen
before it happened. Now it happened on a time that there was in Upper Egypt a certain
village which was fighting with another village, for the villages quarrelled with each
other concerning the division of the waters [of the Nile], and they fought so violently
that frequently murders were committed, and men were beaten to death. And the village
which was stronger than the village of this virgin rose up against it in fierce wrath, and
there came against the inhabitants of her village a crowd of boastful and violent men
carrying staves and spears to kill them; and the angel of the Lord appeared unto her, and
revealed unto her the craft of those who were ready to fall upon them secretly. Then she
sent and called the elders of the church of her village, and said unto them, "Go ye forth
to meet the inhabitants of that village, for behold they are coming against you, lest
peradventure ye and the village perish; and make entreaty unto them that perhaps they may
be turned aside from their daring attack, and they may spare the village."

2 Now the elders of the village were afraid, and they fell down at her feet and made
supplication unto her, saying, "We do not dare to go forth to meet them, for we are well
acquainted with their miserable nature and their arrogance; but if thou wishest to spare
the village and thine own house, do thou thyself go forth to meet them." And the virgin
would not undertake to go forth, but she went up upon the roof, and stood up there in
prayer the whole night long, without once kneeling down, and she made bowings and
entreaties unto God, saying, "O Lord, Thou Judge of the earth, Who hast no pleasure in
whatever is iniquitous, O my Lord, when the prayer which Thine handmaiden prayeth and her
supplication reach Thee, let Thy power transfix [the enemy] in the spot wherein they are";
and straightway, on that very day, at a distance of three miles from the village they
became fettered, and stood still, being unable to move [from] the spot. And it was
revealed unto them also that they were hindered from moving by the supplication of that
woman, and thereupon they sent to the inhabitants of the village, and made peace with
them, and became reconciled unto them, and they also sent a message unto them, saying,
"Give ye grateful thanks unto God, for it was the prayers of Piamon which prevented us
[from coming to you]."

CHAPTER 36. OF OUR BLESSED MOTHER TALIDA, THE OLD WOMAN OF ANTINOE

Now in the city of Antinoë there were twelve nunneries, and the women thereof conducted
themselves according to a rule of beautiful spiritual excellence; here I saw the aged
handmaiden of Christ whose name was "Mother Talidâ," who had dwelt in the holy house,
according to what she herself and those who were her associates told me, for eighty years.
And there lived with her sixty virgins who followed the path and rule of the ascetic life
in purity, and they led a life of happiness under the teaching of this good old woman,
whom they loved, and on whom they depended; and because of the great affection which they
poured out upon her, the key was never taken away from any one of them, as is customary in
other religious houses for women, and through her divine doctrine she changed them into a
state of incorruptibility. Now this old woman arrived at such a state of impassibility
that when I entered into her presence and sat down by her side, she stretched out her
hands and laid them upon my shoulders, in the boldness and freedom which she had acquired
in Christ.

CHAPTER 37. OF THE VIRGIN TAOR

Now in this nunnery there was a certain virgin whose name was Taor, who was the disciple
of a certain old woman of ascetic excellence, and who had lived therein for thirty years;
and she would consent to receive neither beautiful apparel, nor a veil, nor sandals,
saying, "I do not require [them], for I am not compelled to go down into the market."
Every First Day of the Week the other women used to go down to the church to partake of
the Offering, but this virgin used to remain by herself in the nunnery dressed in rags,
and she would sit at her work at all hours. And by these means she acquired such a
sagacious, wise, and ready appearance that every man who was wont to abhor the sight of
women would have been nigh to being snared and falling at the sight of her, had it not
been that shamefacedness, which is the guardian of chastity, was ever with her, and that
she ordered her gaze in a chaste manner by means of shame and fear.

CHAPTER 38. OF THE VIRGIN AND THE MARTYR COLLUTHUS

Now there was another virgin there who was a neighbour of mine, and who dwelt near me, but
whose face I had never seen, for, according to what they said about her, she had never
gone down to the market from the day whereon she had become a nun, but had completed sixty
years with the head of her nunnery. And finally, when she was about to depart from the
world, the martyr, whose name was Colluthus, who had lived by the side of the nunnery,
appeared unto her, and said unto her, "This day thou art about to depart from this world
unto thy Lord, and thou shalt see all the saints; but come and eat a meal with us in the
martyrium." Thereupon she rose up early in the morning and arrayed herself in her apparel,
and taking bread, and olives, and garden herbs in her basket, she went forth as she had
done for many years; and having gone to the martyrium, she prayed, and having watched for
the space of the whole day for an opportunity when no man would be found therein, she drew
nigh and cried out unto that martyr, and said unto him, "Ask a blessing on my food, O
Saint Colluthus, and accompany thou me on this my journey by thy prayers." And having
eaten her food and prayed, she came back at sunset to her nunnery, and she gave unto the
head thereof the Book of Clement which is called "Stromata," and [containeth] a commentary
(or explanation) of Amos the prophet, saying, "Give this book to the Bishop who is in
Alexandria in exile, and say unto him, 'Pray for me,' for I am about to depart." And she
died in the night without suffering either sickness or from pain in her head, but she
rolled herself up in her garments and died.

CHAPTER 39. OF THE VIRGIN AND OF MAGISTRIANUS WHO FOUGHT WITH WILD BEASTS FOR HER SAKE

1 In the ancient book which was ascribed to Hippolytus, who knew the Apostles, I have
found the following history written:—There was a certain woman who was of noble birth and
beautiful in her face, and who came from the city of the Corinthians, and who continued to
live in a state of virginity, and certain people laid an accusation against her before the
governor, who was a heathen, at the time of the persecution [of the Christians], and
calumniated her, saying, "She hath abused the Government and the Emperors, she hath
uttered blasphemies against the gods (i.e., the idols), she hath treated the sacrifices
with contempt"; such were the lying words which the wicked men concocted [about her],
because they had been led captive by her beauty. Now because the governor was more
addicted than they all to lasciviousness, he accepted such calumnies as those, and he
became mad with desire like lustful stallions, even as it is written, "He was in-flamed by
lust" (Jeremiah v, 8).

2 And having tried to seduce her by means of cunning schemes of every kind, and being
unable to do so, he became furious with her and handed her over to be punished, not by
means of stripes and scourgings, but he wanted to make her earn her living by fornication.
And he commanded the man unto whom he had delivered her to collect daily from the money
which should be paid to her for hire three darics and to bring them to him; and this man,
in order that he might not make use of the command in any sluggish manner, and that he
might not lose money and also make the governor exceedingly angry, set her up as a gift
before all those who wished [to have her]. Now, therefore, when those who were as keen in
their lust for the maiden as are hawks for a snared sparrow perceived those things, they
thronged into the tavern of destruction (i.e., brothel), and having given money unto the
man to whom the virgin had been delivered, they drew nigh unto her and spoke unto her such
things as [they thought] would be helpful to their intentions. But the virgin, who was
wise among women, urged them on with blandishments in a gladsome manner, and strengthened
her mind in the hope of Him for whom she had guarded her virginity, and she made petitions
unto them, saying, "I have a hidden sore in a certain place, and the smell of its running
is exceedingly strong; and I am afraid that after ye have embraced me it will bring you to
hate me and that your souls will loathe me. I therefore beseech you to wait a few days
until I am well again, and [then] ye shall have the power to do whatsoever ye like with me
for no-thing."

3 And having with suchlike words dismissed them, she offered up unto God during those days
with her whole heart prayers, and supplications, and bowings to the ground that He would
help her, and that she might be saved and delivered from such hateful destruction as this,
and that she might be kept in a state of unsullied virginity. Then God seeing her chastity
sent a fervent longing [for her] into a certain young man [called] Magistrianus, who was
wholly excellent, both in mind and in body, and it burned like fire even unto death. And
he went as it were in a lustful passion, and at the time of evening he entered the house
of the man who had been commanded to receive the money, and he gave him five darics, and
said unto him, "Let me be with the virgin this night"; and he permitted him to be with
her. Then having gone into the place which was her sleeping room, he said unto her, "Rise
up and save thyself." And having stripped off her apparel, and dressed her in his own
clothes, and covered her with his cloak, and completed her attire after the manner of that
of a man, he said unto her, "Muffle up thy head in the hood of the cloak, and go forth,"
and having done this she signed herself with the sign of the Cross, and went forth. And at
the turn of the day the fraud became known, and Magistrianus was delivered up and was cast
to the beasts. Thus was the evil Devil put to shame because that martyr, who is worthy of
admiration, was able to crown himself with the two crowns of a double martyrdom, one on
behalf of himself, and one on behalf of that blessed woman.

CHAPTER 40. OF THE HOLY WOMAN MELANIA THE GREAT

1 Melania, the holy woman who is worthy of all blessings, was of Spanish origin, and she
grew up in Rome, for she was the daughter of Marcellinus, a man who had held consular
rank. Now her husband was a man who performed a large number of duties under the
Government, and she became a widow when she was twenty-two years old. Now this woman,
having been held worthy to be seized upon by divine love, revealed the matter to no man,
for she would not have been permitted to perform her own will, because she lived in the
time of the rule of Valens (A.D. 364-378); and having arranged that he should be named the
procurator of her son's affairs, she took everything which she possessed which could be
easily moved and carried off, and placed it in a ship with tried servants, both men and
women, and sailed hastily to Alexandria, where she sold her property and changed it into
gold. And she went into the mount of Nitria, and saw the fathers, that is to say, Pambô,
and Arsenius, and Serapion the Great, and Paphnutius of Scete, and Isidore the Confessor
and Bishop of Hermopolis, and Dioscurus; and she remained with them for half a year, and
she went round about through all that desert, and saw all the holy men and was blessed by
them. And when Augustus, who was in Alexandria, sent into exile to Palestine and Caesarea,
Isidore, and Pissimius, and Adelphius, and Fîsânîs, and Paphnutius, and Pambô (now with
these also was Ammonius, that is to say, twelve* holy bishops), this blessed woman clave
to them, and she ministered unto them of her own possessions. And when the servants whom
she used to send unto them were stopped, this brave woman (according to what the holy men
Pîsânîs, and Paphnutius, and

2 * Some of the names of the twelve are omitted. Isidore, and Ammonius related unto me,
for I used to hold converse with them) used to clothe herself in the garment of one of her
servants, and carry unto them late in the evening the food which they needed. Now when the
governor of Palestine learned this thing, wishing to fill his purse, and hoping and
expecting to make profit by her, he seized her and cast her into prison, being unaware
that she was a woman of noble rank. Then she sent unto him a message, saying, "I am the
daughter of such and such a man, [and the wife of such and such a man], and I am the
handmaiden of Christ. Do not treat lightly my poor garb and estate, for I have the power
to exalt myself if it pleaseth me to do so, and thou hast no authority either to hamper me
in this fashion or to carry off any of my property. Now, in order that thou mayest not
dare to do anything in ignorance, and so fall under condemnation, behold, I send thee
[this] message; for it is meet that towards senseless and foolish men we should act in a
masterful manner, and with pride, even as our noble rank enableth us to do, and should
treat them as fools and men of no understanding." And when the governor learned this thing
he apologized to Melania, and entreated her to forgive him, and he fell down and did
homage unto her, and gave orders that she should have the power to visit holy men without
hindrance.

3 And after the return of these blessed men from exile, this holy woman built a house in
Jerusalem, wherein she dwelt for twenty-seven years, and wherein she had a congregation of
sisters, who were in number about fifty; and moreover, the honourable nobleman Rufinus,
who came from Italy and belonged to the city of Aquileia, clave unto her her whole life
long, and he led a life of glorious works, and finally he was held to be worthy of the
office of elder. Now among men one would not quickly find one who was more understanding,
and gracious, and pleasant than he. And Rufinus and Melania during the whole of that
period of twenty-seven years received and relieved at their own expense all those people
who came unto Jerusalem to pray, bishops, and dwellers in monasteries, and virgins, and
they edified and benefited all those who thronged to them. Now they healed the schism of
the Paulinists, who were in number about four hundred monks, and they all were heretics
who fought against the Holy Spirit; and having made entreaty unto them they turned them
back unto union with the Church. And they loaded with their gifts all the clergy who were
in the cities, and they provided with food all those who were strangers and needy
[therein]. In this manner they ended their lives, and they never became a stumbling-block
unto [any] man.

4 Now as concerning the possessions of which she stripped herself, and the things (i.e.,
money) which she distributed, being hot as fire with divine zeal, and blazing like a flame
with the love of Christ, I alone am not able to recount, for it belongeth also unto those
who dwell in the country of the Persians [to declare it]; for there was no man who was
deprived of her alms and gifts [whether he came from the] east, or the west, or the north,
or the south. She lived in exile for thirty-seven years, and her possessions sufficed for
her to give alms to churches, and to religious houses, and to strangers, and to those who
were in prison. And meanwhile her relatives and her kinsfolk were sending [money] unto her
continually, and her own son, and those who had charge of her property also sent some of
their own money unto her; and she never lacked anything, and during the whole of the time
in which she was in exile she never consented to the acquisition of a span of land. And
she was never drawn to long for her son, and the love for her only child neither parted
her nor divided her from the love of Christ, but through her prayers her son attained unto
perfect discipline and unto the ways and habits of excellence; and he became the son-in-
law of honourable and noble people, and there also came upon him much power and divers
positions of great honour;

5 now he had two children, one boy and one girl. 6 Now after a long period of time had
elapsed, when she heard that the daughter of her son and her husband wished to be
sanctified, and fearing lest they should fall into the hands of the heretics who would sow
in them evil doctrines, and lest they should grow up in a life of dissolute luxury, that
old woman, who was then sixty years old, embarked once again in a ship, and sailed from
Caesarea, and after twenty days arrived in Rome. And whilst she was there she converted
and made to become a Christian a man called Apronianus, who was of exceedingly high rank
and was also a pagan; and she moreover persuaded him by means of most perfect admonition
and exhortation to become sanctified, and also his wife, who was her own sister and whose
name was Avita, to receive the garb of the followers of the ascetic life, and to become
prosperous in all patience in the labours of the life of abstinence and self-denial. And
she also strengthened by means of her excellent counsels the daughter of her son, whose
name was Melania, and her husband, whose name was Pinianus, and she also converted her
daughter-in-law, whose name was Albînâ; and she persuaded all these to sell everything
which they possessed and to give [the money] to the poor; and she brought them out from
Rome, and led them into the quiet and peaceful haven of the life and labours of
asceticism.

7 And she contended with all the women of senatorial rank and with the women of high
degree, and strove with them as with savage wild beasts, for the men tried to restrain her
from making the women do even as she had done, that is to say, to prevent her from
converting them and making them to forsake their worldly rank and position. And she spake
unto them thus, "My children, four hundred years ago it was written that that time was the
last time (1 St. John ii, 18). Why do ye hold fast thus strenuously to the vain love of
the world? Take ye heed lest the day of Antichrist overtake you, and keep not fast hold
upon your own riches and the possessions of your fathers"; and having set free all these
she brought them to the life of the ascetic and recluse. As for her [grand] son Publicola,
who was a child, she converted [him] and brought [him] to Sicily; and she sold the whole
of the residue of her possessions and taking the price [thereof] came to Jerusalem, and,
having distributed it in a wise fashion and arranged all her other affairs, after forty
days she died at a good old age, being crowned with an abundance of gratification and
happiness; and she left in Jerusalem a house for religious folk and money for the
maintenance thereof.

8 Now therefore when all those who clave unto her had gone forth from Rome the great
barbarian whirlwind, which had also been mentioned in ancient prophecies, came upon the
city, and it did not leave behind it even the statues of brass which were in the market-
places, for it destroyed by its barbaric insolence everything whatsoever; and it so
thoroughly committed everything to destruction that the city of Rome, which had been
crowned and adorned for twelve hundred years with edifices and buildings of beauty, became
a waste place. Then those who without contention had been converted by means of her
admonition, ascribed glory unto God Who, by means of a change in temporal affairs, had
persuaded those who did not believe her; for whilst the houses of all the latter were
plundered, the houses of those only who had been persuaded by her were delivered, and they
became perfect burnt-offerings unto the Lord, through the care and solicitude of the
blessed woman Melania. And it happened by chance that I and they once travelled together
from Aelia to Egypt, and we were accompanying on our journey the gentle virgin Sylvania,
the sister of Rufinus, a man of consular rank, and Jovinianus was also with us; now he was
at that time a deacon, but subsequently he became bishop in the Church of God of the city
of Askelon, and he was a God-fearing man and was exceedingly well versed in doctrine.

9 And it came to pass that a fierce and fiery heat overtook us on the way, and we came
into Pelusium that we might rest therein; and Jovinianus, who is worthy of admiration,
came by chance upon a trough for washing, and he began to wash his hands and his feet in a
little water that by means of the coolness thereof he might refresh himself after the
intensity of the blazing heat. Then having washed himself he threw on the ground a sheep-
skin whereon he might rest from the labour of the journey. And behold, the mighty one
among women stood up over him like a wise [mother], and in her simplicity rebuked him by
her words, saying, "Seeing that thou art still in the heat of youth how canst thou have
confidence that by means of carefulness [on thy part] thou wilt be able to resist the
[natural heat of] the constitution of the body which still burneth in thy member[s]? And
dost thou not perceive the injurious effects which will be produced in thee by [this
washing]? Believe me, O my son, for I am this day a woman sixty years old, from the time
when I first took upon myself this garb water hath never touched more of my body than the
tips of the fingers of my hands, and I have never washed my feet, or my face, or any one
of my members.

10 And although I have fallen into many sicknesses, and have been urged by the physicians,
I have never consented nor submitted myself to the habit of applying water to any part of
my body; and I have never lain upon a bed, and I have never gone on a journey to any place
reclining on a cushioned litter." 11 Now this wise and blessed woman also loved learning,
and she turned the nights into days in reading all the books of the famous Fathers, I mean
to say the works of the blessed Gregory and of the holy man Stephen, and of Pierius and of
Basil also, and of other [writers], more than two hundred and fifty thousand sayings; and
she did not read them in an ordinary fashion or just as she came to them, and she did not
hurry over them in an easy and pleasant manner, but with great labour and with
understanding she used to read each book seven or eight times. And because of this she was
enabled, being set free from lying doctrine, to fly by means of the gift of learning (or
doctrine) to great opinions, and she made herself a spiritual bird, and in this wise was
taken up to Christ her Lord. And may He in His mercy grant unto us through her prayers the
power to act mightily, even as she did, and may we see her with all the saints who love
Him, and with them may we lift up praise to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy
Spirit for ever and ever.

CHAPTER 41. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN MELANIA THE YOUNGER

1 Now inasmuch as I have already promised above to relate the history of Melania the
Younger it is meet that I should pay [my] obligation, for it is not just that I should
consign to oblivion a young woman who, though so very young in her years, by reason of her
indefatigable zeal and knowledge was very much wiser than the old women, or that I should
omit to make manifest by words the history of one who, though a girl in stature, was old
in the mind of the fear of God. Now therefore the parents of this maiden drew her by force
into marriage, and they united her unto one of the nobles of Rome, but she kept in mind
continually the words which had been spoken unto her by her aged relative, and kept
herself as was fitting, and became strengthened especially in the fear of God. And she had
two sons, and as both of them died she came to be possessed of such a hatred of marriage
that she said unto her husband, whose name was Pinianus, the son of Severus, a man of
consular rank, "If thou wishest 'to live with me a life of purity I will regard thee as
the husband and lord of my life; but if, inasmuch as thou art a young man, this is too
hard for thee, take everything which I have and leave only free to me my own body, for in
this way I shall be able to fulfil my desire which is in God, and I shall become the heir
of the excellences of that woman after whose name I have been called. For if God desired
me to lead the life of this world He would never have taken away the children to whom I
gave birth."

2 And when they had been for a long time debating the matter, at length God had mercy upon
that young man, and He placed in him the zeal of the fear of God to such a degree that he
also sought to be excused from all the material things of this world, and thus was
fulfilled the word which had been spoken by the Apostle, saying, "How knowest thou, O
woman, whether 'thou shalt give life to thy husband [or not]? Or how knowest thou, O man,
whether thou shalt give life to thy wife [or not]?" (1 Corinthians vii, 16.) Now when she
was married to her husband she was about twelve [or thirteen] years old, and she lived
with him for seven years, for she was twenty years of age when she withdrew from the
world. First of all she bestowed all her raiment of silk upon the holy altars, which also
did Olympias, the handmaiden of Christ, and the remainder of her apparel of silk she cut
up, and made it suitable for the service of the church in other ways. Her silver and gold
she entrusted to an elder whose name was Paul, who was a monk

3 161 from Dalmatia, and she sent it by sea to the countries of the East, I mean to Egypt
and to the Thebaïd, to the amount of ten thousand darics; and she sent in this manner ten
thousand darics to Antioch, and to the countries which were nigh thereunto, but to
Palestine she sent fifteen thousand darics. To the churches which were in the islands, and
to the people who were in exile she sent ten thousand darics, and to those who were in the
West, I mean in the churches, and in the monasteries there, and the houses for the
reception of strangers, and to all those who were in want she distributed [her gifts] with
her own hands. And I speak as before God [when I say] that she must have given away four
times these [amounts besides], and that she snatched away [her money] from Alaricus her
confidential servant as from the mouth of a lion. Of those who wished to be free among her
servants she gave freedom to about eight thousand in number, and on the remainder who had
no wish to have their freedom, and who preferred rather to remain in the service of her
brother, she bestowed three thousand darics. All the villages which she had in Spain, and
in Aquitania, and in the island of Tarragon, and Gaul she sold, as well as those which she
had in Sicily, and in Campania, and in Africa, and received [the proceeds thereof] in her
own hands, so that she might give them to the monasteries, and churches, and all those who
were in want. Such was the wisdom of Melania, this lover of Christ, and such was the
mature and divine opinion which she adopted in respect of the weighty burden of these
riches.

4 And her manner of life was thus. She herself ate once a day, though at the beginning she
ate once in five days, and the young women whom she had converted and who lived with her
she commanded to partake of food every day. And there lived with her also the mother of
Albînâ, who observed the same rule of life, and who distributed her possessions among the
needy after the manner of Melania; and sometimes they dwelt in the plains of Sicily, and
sometimes in the plains of Campania, and they had with them fifteen men who were eunuchs,
and a proportionate number of virgins who ministered as servants. And Pinianus, who had
once been her husband, was now one who helped in the work of ascetic excellence, and was
her associate, and he dwelt with three hundred men who were monks and read the Holy
Scriptures, and he enjoyed himself in the garden, and conversed with the people. Now these
men who were with him helped and relieved us in no slight degree, and we were very many in
number, when we were going on our way to Rome on behalf of the blessed man John the
Bishop, for they received us with the greatest good will and they supplied us with
provisions for the way in great abundance, and they sent us on our way in joy and
gladness.

5 And their kinsman, whose name was Pammachius, a man of consular rank, withdrew from the
world as did they, and he lived a life which was pleasing unto God, and during his
lifetime he distributed his possessions among the needy, and left them [to them] after his
death; and thus he departed unto our Lord. In like manner the man Macarius, and
Constantinus, who was the assessor to the prefects in Italy (now they were well known men
and men who merit mention), arrived at the highest pitch of ascetic excellence which I
describe even as it is; and they abide in the body at this present and lead a life of
glorious and divine deeds, and are awaiting the perfect life which is full of happiness.

CHAPTER 42. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN OLYMPIAS

1 Now the holy and chaste woman Olympias, whilst journeying in the footsteps of this woman
Melania, was emulating her in the excellence of her divine life and labours, and she was
seized with a fervent desire of travelling in the path which leadeth to heaven, and in
every respect she made herself cling close to the Divine Books. This woman was in the
flesh the daughter of Count Seleucus, but, if we say what is true, in the spirit she was
the daughter of God. Now she was the daughter of the son of Ablavius, a man who had held
consular rank in Constantinople, and she was for a few days the daughter-in-law of
Nebridius, the sub-prefect of Constantinople, but in truth she was not the wife of the
man, for they say concerning her that she died in purity and in her virginity, and that
she only lived according to the Divine Word in chastity, wherein was mingled true
humility, and that she made herself a friend of and ministered unto all those who were
needy. Now her abundant riches sufficed for this work, and it is impossible to reckon up
that which she used to distribute to every one with a sincere intent; for there is not a
city, or a district, or a desert place, or an island, or a shore which did not enjoy the
gifts of this glorious woman. And she gave gifts also to the churches for their
maintenance, and to the houses wherein strangers were received, and also to the prisons
and, moreover, to those who were in exile, and, so to speak, on the whole world this
blessed woman scattered her alms broadcast. And she leaped upon and ascended the uppermost
part of the lofty mountain of humility, wherein nothing whatsoever was to be seen of the
acts and deeds of vainglory or of deceitful action (or appearance), but the life of
simplicity, and

2 163 11a the common garb, and the emaciated body, and the submissive mind, and the
understanding which is without arrogance, and the lowly heart, and the watching of vigil,
and the spirit which is without anxious care, and the love which hath no limit, and
friendship without end and the holding in contempt the operation of the feelings, and the
restraint from everything [harmful], and the mind which is simple towards God, and the
hope which never faileth, and the lovingkindness which is unspeakable, and the thoughtful
care of all poor folk. 3 Now this woman suffered many temptations through the agency of
that evil devil, who loveth hateful things and who hath never had experience of things
which are good, and she endured great contendings for the sake of the name of Christ. And
she gave herself unto tears which were without measure both by day and by night, and she
submitted herself unto all sorts and conditions of the children of men for the sake of
God, and she bowed down reverently before the holy Bishops, and she paid homage to the
elders, and she entreated in an honourable manner the clergy, as well as the orders of
monks who dwelt in the monastic houses, and she received with welcome the virgins, and she
visited the widows, and she reared the orphans, and she strengthened [those who were in a
state of] old age, and she had care for the sick and she mourned with the sinners, and she
led the erring into the right path, and she tended every one, and she converted many women
among those who did not believe, and prepared them for life. She left behind her to the
world a beautiful remembrance, and she changed the slavery into freedom of all the members
of her household, who were about a myriad in number, and she shewed unto them honour in
the same degree as to her noble family; and if, as is right, we must tell the truth, she
made them to become of more account than herself.

4 It was impossible for any man to see apparel worse than hers on anyone, for the garments
of this brave woman were not as good as those of the people who cover themselves with the
oldest rags; and the food which she offered to her body was of such an inferior class that
on account of its poorness it was rejected even by her servants. By this woman who was
clothed in Christ, no blame was ever found in anyone, not even in her neighbours, all
through her life—which was not a life—by reason of the repentance and in the vehement
tears wherewith she burned; one may perchance see a fountain which, owing to the violence
of the heat, hath dried up, but no man ever saw the eyes of this woman, which were fixed
upon Christ, lacking tears. But of what use is it for us to tell and to devote myself so
strenuously to narrate [things] concerning her? For the contendings of this woman, who was
perfect in excellence, were so exceedingly numerous that they were more in number than
those which were declared concerning her, and men would only imagine concerning me that I
was narrating from hearsay great things which were not true about this woman Olympias, who
became a vessel of honour of the Divine Spirit, and who was above [all] passions.

5 Nevertheless I was a spectator of her excellence and of her angelic acts and deeds, and
I was, as it were, a member of her household, and her kinsman in the Spirit, and she made,
by my counsel, [gifts] unto many from her possessions. And this woman who never thought
about the things which were in the flesh, suffered many vain calumnies for the sake of the
truth, and those who were living in Divine fear in Constantinople rightly deemed that she
should be numbered with the confessors, because even unto the death she persisted in
striving for righteousness' sake, and in [performing her works] she received perfection,
and she waited hopefully for the never-withering crown, which was full of all blessings in
the everlasting mansions on high, with all the saints who were like unto her, and she
sought after the reward of her good deeds with freedom (or boldness) of speech.

CHAPTER 43. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN CANDIDA

And after the manner of the blessed woman Candida, the daughter of the blessed man Trajan,
the general, also laboured, and she arrived at the perfection of ascetic excellence; and
she offered unto the Bishops, who were the ministers of the Mysteries of Christ, the
homage which was meet for them, and she provided suitably for the performance of all the
service of the church, and supplied the clergy with gifts, unto each man according to his
grade. She converted her daughter and placed her in the ranks of the virgins, and she
offered unto God this gift of the fruit of her womb, and sent [her] before her, and
finally she herself also became like unto her daughter in the chastity of her purity, and
she distributed her wealth among the poor and needy. And I know that night after night
this brave woman used to rise up [from her bed] and grind corn, and heat the oven, and
make bread for the Offering, and bake it with her own hands, and she was wont to say that
she did this in order to reduce the strength of her body, for, she added, "Because I am
unable to receive any benefit from fasting I have taken upon myself this labour for
watching, so that I may do away with the greedy appetite of Esau." Now she separated
herself from every kind [of meat] where there is blood, fish alone excepted, and she made
use of oil and vegetables, but these only on festival days; and on all other days she used
to live on dry bread dipped in vinegar, and it sufficed her. And she awaited with hope the
Resurrection which was to be full of happiness, in return for these stern labours, and she
hoped to enjoy the everlasting delights which God hath prepared for those who love Him.

CHAPTER 45. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN GELASIA

And Gelasia, the daughter of a man of the rank of tribune, desired earnestly to follow in
the fear of God after this woman whose life and deeds were glorious, and her excellence
consisted in never allowing the sun to go down upon her wrath against man, neither against
her servants nor against [any] other man; and this blessed woman fled from the path of men
of wrath which leadeth unto everlasting death.

CHAPTER 46. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN JULIANA

And again, there was a certain virgin, whose name was Juliana, in Caesarea of Cappadocia,
and it was said concerning her that she was a believing woman, and a woman of
understanding, and that in the time of the persecution when the writer Origen was fleeing
from the heathen she received [him] and hid him [in her house] for two years; and she fed
and kept him at her own expense, and made him to be satisfied and content with her
ministration. Now I have found these things set down in a certain book which was in the
handwriting of Origen himself, and I found this book in the possession of the excellent
virgin Juliana in Caesarea who had hidden it, and who used to say that she received it
from Symmachus, the expositor of the Jews. And I have not set down [in writing] the story
of the excellences of these glorious women for any ordinary purpose, but that we may learn
that by every means whatsoever we may, if we wish, find sundry and divers occasions for
[obtaining spiritual] advantage.

CHAPTER 47. OF HERONION AND HIS WIFE [BOSPHORIA]

1 In Ancyra, a city of Galatia, I met a man whose name was Heronion, an "Apakomots," and
an enlightened man, and his wife whose name was Bosphoria (or Dosphoria), and of their
mode of living and acts I experienced an example. Now these folk had such a firm hope in
the happiness (or good things) which were to come, that they neglected even their
children, for they awaited with hope the actual [fulfilment] of the things to come, and
they distributed among the poor and needy the income which they derived from their
villages, notwithstanding the fact that they had four male and two female children. To
these [children] they never gave anything whatsoever, except to the daughters who had
married husbands. 2 And finally, they used to say, "After we are dead everything will be
yours, but during our lifetime the income which we derive from our villages we shall take
for ourselves." Now they used to divide their moneys among the churches and monasteries,
and houses for the receiving of strangers (or hospitals?) and among the poor and needy.
And besides these things they performed the following act of excellence. There was a great
famine, and every man shut up (or restrained) his mercy, but these folk opened the
storehouses which they had in their villages, and gave [food] to eat to those who were
famished, and through this act the heretics who were living in that country were changed
and were turned unto the [true] knowledge when they saw their unspeakable lovingkindness;
and they gave praise unto God for the simplicity of their faith. And other examples of
their excellence were the following: The modest garb, common and simple apparel, food
eaten but rarely, and then only in such quantity as was sufficient [to maintain] life; and
they lived meanwhile in a state of chastity which was acceptable unto God. They dwelt in
the fields several days [at a time], loving a life of silent contemplation, and they fled
from the tumult of cities and from the evils which are begotten of them, lest when they
were living among a crowd of people something might come upon them to disturb them, and
they might fall from the[ir] divine state of mind. For this reason these blessed men were
doing all these excellent things, because that with the eyes of the understanding they had
already looked upon the good things which had been for ever prepared for them.

CHAPTER 48. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN MAGNA

In this city of Ancyra there were also many other virgins who led lives of ascetic
excellence, and they were two thousand, or more, in number; and they kept themselves in
restraint and served God with great humility. And among them were also famous women who
triumphed with glorious strenuousness in the contending of the fear of God, and of those
was Magnâ, the chaste and proved wife; now I know not whether I ought to describe her as a
virgin or as a widow, for this woman, owing to the pressure which was put upon her by her
mother, was yoked unto a husband. But she used to make pretences to her husband in divers
ways, and she avoided his embraces by urging the bodily sickness which she had on her as
an excuse, and thus she was, according to what the members of her household said,
preserved spotless from him. Now, after a short time the man died, and he left everything
which he had unto her alone, and she exchanged the things of time for those which were
everlasting, and she offered herself wholly to God and devoted herself unto the things
which belonged unto the life which is to come; and thus she lived a life in the great
chastity of the fear of God, and even the Bishops were put to shame by the sight of her.
Now the rest of the building (i.e., the edifice of her spiritual excellences,) she made
perfect in the furnace of the love of voluntary poverty, and whatsoever there remained
unto her she gave, as it is written, gladly unto the churches, and monasteries and houses
for receiving poor strangers, and unto the orphans and widows; and she abode continually
in the church and served God, and awaited the hope which was to come.

CHAPTER 49. OF THE MONK [MISERICORS] WHO LIVED IN ANCYRA

1 And moreover, we found in this city a certain monk, and we met him at the time when he
had [just] received the laying on of hands as an elder; formerly he had been a husbandman,
but he had laboured in the life of a solitary recluse (or monk) for twenty years, and he
had lived in close intercourse with the Bishop of the city, who was a holy man. He was
such a benevolent man that even in the night time he would go round about and visit those
who were poor and needy, and he was so indefatigable in his work that he neglected neither
the prison-house, nor the house of the sick (i.e., hospital), nor the houses of the rich
and poor, but he helped every one. He urged the rich with words which were full of mercy,
and exhorted them to fair deeds, and he toiled with anxious care on behalf of the poor and
needy, in respect of those things which were meet for them. Those who were struggling in
contention he brought nigh unto peace, and those who were naked he clothed with raiment,
and he laboured for the sick and brought them the bindings up which conduced to [their]
healing.

2 Now there existed in this city of Ancyra that which existeth rightly in large cities,
that is to say, in the porch of the church thereof there lay a great number of poor folk,
who were in the habit of going about begging for their daily bread, and among them were
certain men who had wives; and it fell out on the night of a certain day that one of these
women was about to give birth to a child. And by reason of the pain which was darting
through her, and the severe anguish of the birth-pangs, she cried out loudly, and the
blessed man heard her outcries from the church as he was praying; and the blessed man
ceased praying, and went forth to see [what was happening], although it was winter. And
seeing that there was no man nigh unto her in her necessity, he himself filled the place
of midwife, and he abhorred not the shame which at-tacheth unto those who give birth to
children; for the great act of lovingkindness which he was about to perform did not grant
unto him the perception of such things.

3 Now of this blessed man the garments (or possessions) were so utterly poor that they
were worth nothing at all, for by reason of the great lovingkindness which dwelt in him he
took no pains at all to acquire any possession whatsoever. For if anyone gave him a book
he straightway went and sold it, and unto those who enquired of him concerning it, saying,
"Why didst thou sell [the book]?" he said, "How am I to persuade the Master (or Teacher)
that I have in truth learned His handicraft, unless I make use of His testimony as to the
true [meaning] of His handicraft?" And this holy man thereupon persisteth in this course
of action until this day, and he hath left behind him unto all those who dwell in that
country a never-fading remembrance. And he is happy in the expectation of the good things
which are for ever, and he waiteth to receive the reward of the labours of his triumphs in
the kingdom from Him Who said, "I was an hungered and ye gave Me to eat. I was naked and
ye clothed Me" (St. Matthew xxv, 35, 36).

CHAPTER 50. OF JOHN OF LYCUS, A CITY OF THE THEBAID

1 John, who lived in the city of Lycus, and who had learned in his youth the craft of the
carpenter, and whose brother was a dyer, afterwards, when he was about five and twenty
years old, took upon himself the garb of monkhood; and having lived in divers monasteries
for five years, he finally departed by himself to the mountain which is in Lycus, to the
lofty eminence which is on the top of the mountain, and made three cells for himself
there. Now he built and prepared these for himself in the first year after he went to the
mountain and went up into it. The first cell was for the needs of the body, in the second
he laboured at the work of his hands and took his food, and in the third he said his
prayers, and during the three (or thirty) years in which he was in seclusion there he was
wont to receive whatsoever was necessary for him through the window from him that
ministered unto him.

2 Now this blessed man was worthy [to receive] from God the gift of being able to declare
things before they came to pass, and on several occasions he made known things before they
happened unto the blessed Emperor Theodosius, I mean he foretold that he would conquer
Maximus the rebel and would return from Gallia, and he also announced to him beforehand
concerning the defeat of Eugenius the rebel, and thus the fame of this holy man went forth
greatly, and he was held to be a man of spiritual excellence. Now therefore when we were
in the desert of Nitria, I and the members of the following of the blessed Origen wished
to gain exact information concerning the state of spiritual excellence to which the man
[had attained]. Thereupon the blessed Evagrius said, "I am very desirous of learning from
some one who is skilled in the investigation of the mind and understanding what manner of
man [John of Lycus] is; for although I myself am unable to see him, still I can learn from
another man [concerning] his qualities of excellence if he be able to narrate them, but I
cannot go so far as [his] mountain.

3 Now when I had heard these things I said nothing whatsoever to any man, and I held my
peace for a day, but on the morrow I shut up my cell, and having confided myself to the
hands of God I set out on my journey to go to the Thebaid, where I arrived after eighteen
days, on some of which I walked on my feet, and on others I sailed on the river. For it
was the period of the year when the river riseth, and when many folk fall sick, the which
also happened unto me. And when I had gone [to John of Lycus] I found that he had shut
himself up in the place wherein he lived in seclusion, and I took up my abode with the
brethren in a great house which contained about one hundred men, and which the brethren
had built a long time; for though they shut in John during the other days of the week on
Saturday and Sunday they used to open his window.

4 When therefore I had learned the rule concerning his seclusion, I waited until the
Saturday, and at the second hour I drew nigh and found him sitting in the opening in the
wall (or window), wherein he waited to administer comfort and consolation unto those who
thronged unto him. And having saluted me he said unto me through an interpreter, "Whence
art thou, my son? And why hast thou come? Thou appearest to me to belong unto the
congregation of Evagrius." And I said unto him, "I am a stranger from [the country of] the
Galatians," and I confessed that I also belonged unto those who were the followers of
Evagrius. Now whilst we were conversing together behold, Alipius, the governor of the
country, came unto him, and as the governor turned to him John ceased to talk to me and I
left them for a little space and gave them opportunity to talk, and I rose up [and
departed] from the mountain. And when they had passed much time in their converse I became
impatient and angry, and I murmured against that excellent old man because it seemed as if
he had treated me lightly and had paid honour to the governor; and being offended in my
mind at this [treatment] I made up my mind to go away because of his disregard of me. Then
John called unto his interpreter, whose name was Theodore, and said unto him, "Go and say
unto that brother, 'Be not angry and impatient, for I will dismiss the governor
immediately, and [then] I will speak with thee.'" Thus it appeared to me that, like a
spiritual being, he had knowledge of secret things, and I made up my mind to remain.

5 And when the governor had departed John called unto me and said unto me, "My son, why
wast thou vexed with me? What hast thou found which is worthy of [being considered] an
offence? Thou hast imagined things which are not to be found in me, and which are not
creditable unto thyself. Dost thou not know that it is written, 'Those that are whole have
no need of a physician (St. Matthew ix, 12; St. Mark ii, 17; St. Luke v, 31); only those
who are in very evil case have need of him.' Thee I can find whensoever I wish, and if I
myself do not comfort thee the brethren and the other fathers will do so. But this
governor who hath come to us is tightly bound unto the Calumniator by means of the affairs
of this world, and, having obtained respite for a brief space from the vain labour of
[his] abominable servitude, he fleeth like a slave from his master and cometh to be
helped; therefore it would not be seemly to leave him, and to be constant in attention
unto thee, for thou art at all seasons occupied with the cultivating of thy life."

6 And having said these things I entreated him to forgive me, and I became certain in my
mind that he was a spiritual man. Then with a smile he patted my left cheek with his right
hand, and said unto me, "Many temptations will rise up for thee to endure, and moreover,
for many years [past] thou hast struggled to go forth from the desert, and thou strugglest
even to this day, but thou hast been afraid; and the causes thereof, which were thought
[by thee to arise from] the fear of God, hath the Evil One himself sowed in thy mind; and
although thou didst drive away thy thought from thee thou hast kept him with thee. For he
sowed in thee the thought of desire, which was also pleasant unto thee, that is to say,
thou didst care greatly to bring out of the world thy father and also thy sister that they
might take upon themselves the garb of the monastic life. Now there still remain to thy
father seven other years of life, therefore continue to abide in the desert, and do not on
account of these thoughts desire to go to thy kinsfolk, for it is written, 'No man who
hath put his hand on the ploughshare and looketh back is useful to the kingdom of heaven'"
(St. Luke ix, 62). Now, therefore, being helped by these words whereby I triumphed I gave
thanks and praise unto God Who had quieted and laid to rest in me the cause which was
urging me to go forth from the desert.

7 Then afterwards he said unto me with a smile, "Wishest thou to become a bishop?" And I
said unto him, "I have already been made one"; and he said unto me, "Where?" Then I
answered and said unto him, "I am the bishop of the public eating-houses, and of the
taverns, and of tables, and of wine-pots, for I am a visitor of them. And if the wine hath
gone sour I know enough to observe it, and that which is fit [to drink] I drink. Similarly
I visit the cooking pot and if it needeth salt, or any seasoning whatsoever, I season it
with sauces and then I eat thereof. For this, that is to say, my visiting, is my
episcopate, and it is the love of the belly and gluttony which hath made me the visitor of
these." And with a smile he said unto me further, "Quit these [words] of jesting, for a
bishop thou must needs be, and thou wilt have to labour and to be troubled greatly; now if
thou wishest to flee from tribulations and temptations go not forth from the desert, for
in the desert no man will make thee a bishop."

8 And when I had departed from him I came to the desert, that is, to my place wherein I
dwelt, and having related these things unto the blessed fathers, who after two months went
and held intercourse with him, I forgot his words. And three years afterwards I fell sick
with a sore sickness which was caused by my kidneys and stomach, and I was sent to
Alexandria by the brethren who believed that I was collecting water (i.e., becoming
dropsical), and the physicians counselled me to leave Alexandria, and for the sake of the
air (or climate) to go to Palestine, where the air (or climate) was temperate and light
and would be beneficial to my body. From Palestine I went to Bithynia, where, for what
reason I know not, whether by the care and solicitude of men, or whether by the Will of
God, Who is exalted above all things, I was held to be worthy of the laying on of hands
for the episcopacy, which was far above my deserts, and I became an associate in the
temptation (or trial) which rose up against the blessed John Chrysostom, Bishop of
Constantinople. And having been secluded for a period of about eleven months in a dark
cell I remembered that blessed man who had told me of the things which had happened to me
before they came to pass. Now the blessed man John related the things unto me, according
to my opinion, that by means of the narrative he might incite my mind and bring me to
continue to dwell in the desert; and he said unto me, "Behold, I have passed eight and
forty years in this cell, and I have never seen the face of a woman [during the whole
time], and no man hath either seen me eat or drink."

9 Now the handmaiden of Christ Pœmenia came unto the blessed man and begged that she might
see him, but the blessed man would not allow her to do so; and he sent unto her other
spiritual words to give her consolation, and he commanded her that when she was going down
from the Thebaid she should not turn aside to Alexandria, saying, that if she did so, she
would certainly fall into temptations. But Pœmenia, forgetting this [advice] and never
letting it enter her mind [again], turned aside to Alexandria that she might see the city,
and on the way, by the side of the city Nicius, she stopped her ship that she might rest
herself. And when her servants had disembarked, through some untoward circumstance strife
broke out between them and the people of the country, who were truculent men, and they cut
off a finger of one believing man, and another they killed, and without knowing it they
drowned the holy Bishop Dionysius in the river. And they made the venerable woman to
endure many revilings and threatened to do much violence unto her; and they beat all her
servants with many severe stripes, and they would hardly allow them to proceed on their
way.

CHAPTER 51. OF THE BLESSED MAN POSSIDONIUS

1 Now the things which [are narrated] concerning the holy man Possidonius the Theban are
so many that it is impossible to describe them all; he was so gentle, and gracious, and
patient, and enduring, and his soul had so much goodness in it that I do not know that I
ever met another man who was like unto him. For I lived with him in Bethlehem for a year,
at the time he was living beyond the Monastery of the Shepherds, which was close to the
town, and I observed in him many qualities of excellence, of which I will relate [an
example of] one or two. He told me one day when I was living by the side of Porphyrites,
[saying], "I have not spoken to a man for a whole year, and I have not heard the speech of
one. I have not eaten bread, but the insides of palm leaves soaked in water and, whenever
I could find it, wild honey. Once, however, the time came when these things failed me, and
I was in sore tribulation because of it. And I went forth from the cave that I might go to
the habitations of men, and having journeyed on the whole day I was scarcely two miles
distant from the cave. And I turned [and looked] behind me, and I saw, as it were, a
horseman whose appearance resembled that of a knight, and he had upon his head the
similitude of a helmet, and thinking that he was a Roman I turned back to the cave, and I
found outside it a basket of grapes and new, ripe figs, and I took them and went with them
into the cave rejoicing; and that food sufficed to be a consolation unto me for a period
of two months."

2 And the blessed man wrought in Bethlehem the following miracle. A certain woman had
conceived, and she was possessed of an unclean spirit, and being near to the bringing
forth of her child she was greatly afflicted by birth pangs and was violently tortured by
that spirit; and as she was writhing by reason of the workings of that devil, her husband
came and entreated the holy man to go and pray over her, and we went into [her house]
therefore that we might pray together. And having stood up and prayed, after he had knelt
down twice he cast out that unclean spirit; when he stood up he said unto us, "Pray ye,
for straightway the devil shall go forth." But there was a certain sign, the fulfilment of
which [he wished] to shew us, and therefore when that devil had gone forth, he overturned
the whole of the courtyard wall unto its very foundations; now that woman had not spoken a
word for a period of about six years, but after that devil had gone forth she brought
forth her child and spake.

3 And, moreover, I also saw [an example] of the prophecy of this blessed man. There was a
certain elder, whose name was Hieronymus, who dwelt in these parts, and he was exceedingly
well versed in the art and practice of grammar and of eloquence, and he was greatly
skilled in the Latin language; but he possessed the vices of envy and evil-eyedness to
such a degree that the excellence of his very great skill and ability was entirely hidden.
Now the blessed man Possidonius had dwelt with him for many days, and he told me that the
free-woman Paula, who had taken care of him, departed from this world before her time in
order that she might escape from his envy, and, according to my opinion, it was on account
of this man that none of the holy men would live in these districts; and the envy of this
man continued to such a degree that it overtook his own brother, which thing took place
even as he had foretold. And he also persecuted the blessed man Oxyperentius, who came
from Italy, and the wonderful men, Peter the Egypttian and Simeon, who were seen by me.
And Possidonius the Great himself told me that for the whole period of forty years he had
not tasted food made of bread, and that wrath against any man did not abide with him as
long as the half of the day.

CHAPTER 52. OF CHRONIUS WHO WAS FROM THE VILLAGE OF PHOENIX

There was a certain man whose name was Chronius, who came from the village which was
called Tomártá (i.e., Phoenix) which was nigh unto the desert; and when he had gone away a
little distance from human habitations, and had departed from his village, having measured
out along the road with his right foot about fifteen thousand paces, he prayed and dug in
that spot a pit, and he found [therein] good and sweet water. Now the well was about seven
fathoms in depth; and he built there a little habitation wherein to dwell, and from the
day wherein he shut himself up in that place, he prayed to God that he might never return
to a region inhabited by men. Now when he had dwelt there some few years, he was esteemed
worthy to become a priest unto the brotherhood, for there were gathered together unto him
about two hundred brethren. And these excellent things are said concerning him: that
during the whole of the period of sixty years, wherein he was performing the ministrations
of the altar, he never once went out of the desert, and that he never ate bread which he
had not [earned by] the labour of his hands.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE (CHAPTERS 53. OF JAMES THE LAME [AND OF PAPHNUTIUS CEPBALA]–68. THE TRIUMPH OF THE BLESSED MAN EULOGIUS, WHO MINISTERED UNTO THE ARIAN, WHOSE BODY WAS DESTROYED FOR THE SAKE OF CHRIST)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE continued

CHAPTER 53. OF JAMES THE LAME [AND OF PAPHNUTIUS CEPBALA]

1 Now by the side of this Chronius, who is [mentioned] above, there used to dwell a
certain man who was called James the Lame, and he was an exceedingly learned man; now both
of these men knew the blessed Anthony. And it came to pass one day that there happened to
be there also Paphnutius, who is described as a man who watered gardens by machines, and
who possessed the gift of knowledge to such a degree that he knew how to expound the Books
of the Old and New Testaments without reading from them; and he was such a gentle man that
his meekness overcame the gift of prophecy which was found with him; now the former was
voluntary, and the latter was an act of Divine grace. And of this man it was said that he
possessed spiritual excellence to such a degree that for a period of eighty years he did
not own two tunics. Now when I and the blessed man Evagrius came to these men we desired
to learn the reasons for the stumblings of the brethren and for their transgressions
against the strict rules of the ascetic life.

2 And it came to pass in those same days that Chaeremon the anchorite departed from the
world whilst he was sitting on his seat and holding his work in his hand. And it came to
pass that another brother was buried by a fall of earth when he was digging a well. And
another died of want of water as he was coming from Scete. And in addition to these [we
wished to learn] concerning the matter of Stephen, which ought not to be spoken about, for
he fell into foul lasciviousness. 3 And [we asked] concerning Eucarpius, and those which
concerned Hero the Alexandrian, and the Palestinian, and Ptolemy the Egyptian, who were in
Scete. And we were asking among ourselves the question, "What is the reason why men live
lives of this kind in the desert, whereby some receive injury mentally, and some are
ensnared by lasciviousness? Whereupon Paphnutius, that man of great learning, made answer
unto us in the following words, saying, "All the various things which take place in the
world must be divided into two categories, for some happen through the direct Will of God,
and the others by His permission only; the things which are wrought to the praise of God,
especially happen by the direct desire of God, but all those which appertain to loss (or
injury), and danger, and to matters which produce tribulation take place by the permission
of God. Now permission ariseth from a fault on the part of the mind. For it is impossible
for the man who thinketh rightly to fall into foul sins, or into the error which ariseth
from the devils, for all of these take place through a corrupt intent (or disposition),
and through the [love of the] approval of the children of men, and by the daring of the
thoughts, [which] hope to make perfect spiritual excellence.

4 Such men fall into reprehensible wickedness, and God permitteth them so to do, that they
may be a help unto others, that when they feel the difference which hath come upon them
through this permission, they may remember themselves and may turn again unto spiritual
excellence, either that which existeth in the mind, or that which existeth in deeds. And
sometimes it is the mind which sinneth, that is to say, when that sin which taketh place
is committed with evil intent; and sometimes it is the deeds themselves which must be
rejected, as, for example, when they are performed in a manner which is quite beyond
everything which is right and seemly, and this latter case happeneth frequently. Thus a
man of lust will, with corrupt design, give alms unto young women in order that he may
fulfil his foul desire, even though at the beginning he may say, 'It is a beautiful act
for us to offer help to the maiden who is an orphan, and alone [in the world] and in
misery.' And again it may happen that a man may begin to do alms with a good and
acceptable intent to those who are sick, or to those who have lost their riches and become
poor, and that though he giveth his gift in a niggardly manner, and may murmur [at the
expense] and wax wroth, his motive in giving will be found to be a right one. Now the deed
is not [to be thought] equal to the motive.

5 For it is right for the man who would shew mercy to make his gift gladly and with a good
eye." 6 And they also spoke the following: "There is a difference between the gifts which
exist in various souls. Some of them possess keenness of mind, and some of them find it
exceedingly easy and simple to acquire the habits of ascetic self-denial, or to do that
which is difficult for other souls to do; but when a man maketh use of [his] gift of
keenness of mind without a good object for so doing, or when he exerteth his faculty of
performing things because it is easy for him to do so, or when men exercise the gifts
which they have received, they do not ascribe, as would be right, the correctness of their
spiritual excellences unto God, but to their own desire, and to their own keenness of
mind. And those to whom it is sufficient to perform fair works are permitted by the Divine
Providence to be caught in a snare, either by filthy deeds or filthy passions, or by the
contempt or by the disgrace which cometh unto them from the children of men, so that
through the shame and the contempt which [they receive] from the multitude they may little
by little and by degrees cast away from them their boasting about the spiritual excellence
which they imagine they possess.

7 "For he who is inflated and unduly exalted at the keenness of speech [which he
possesseth] doth not ascribe to God, as is right, such keenness, or the discovery of the
knowledge which is from Him, but to his own training, forsooth, or to his own naturally
keen disposition; [therefore] doth God remove from him the Angel of His Divine Providence,
and the Angel being separated from him, this man is immediately vanquished by his
Adversary, and he who was [unduly] lifted up in his keenness [of mind and speech] falleth
into lasciviousness, or into some kind of filthy passion, because he was [unduly] exalted.
And because he was lifted up, and because the witness of chastity hath separated himself
from him, the things which are said by him become unworthy of credence, and those who fear
God flee from the teaching of the mouth of the man who is in this condition, even as they
would flee from a fountain which is full of leeches, so that there may be fulfilled that
which is written, 'Unto the sinner God saith, What hast thou to do with the Books of My
Command-

8 177 ments? (Psalm 1, 16.) For thou hast taken My covenant in 'thy mouth.' "'For in very
truth the souls of those who are moved by passions are like unto fountains of divers
kinds; the souls of gluttons and of those who live in impurity and drunkenness are like
unto muddy springs; and the souls of those who love money and are avaricious are like unto
wells which are full of frogs; and the souls of those who live in envy and pride, even
though there be found in their nature a facility for receiving doctrine, are like unto
wells which breed snakes, and which, even though their flow be continual, no man is able
to drink from because of the bitterness of their manners and habits. And because of this
the blessed man David asked and entreated God to give him three things: graciousness
(orsweetness), knowledge, and instruction. [For without graciousness knowledge hath no
use], and if a man whose manner of life is thus correct shall himself lift from off
himself the cause of the permission [from God], which is boasting, and shall take upon
himself humility, and shall recognize his true capacity, and shall not, at the same time,
exalt himself over any man, and shall confess (or give thanks unto) God, the witness of
knowledge will return unto him again."

9 "'Now this is the behaviour of spiritual excellence. For the spiritual words of a chaste
mode of life do not permit to grow up together with them the parched spear-grasses, and
ears of corn which have been smitten by the south wind (or drought), and which by reason
of their appearance make men think they are full, whilst there is no [flour of] bread in
them. Every lapse (or calamity) which taketh place, either through the tongue, or through
some feeling, or through some action, or through the whole body, taketh place in
proportion to the measure of a man's pride, and by the permission of God, Who showeth
compassion upon those who commit themselves to His Divine Providence. For if, in addition
to their skill in ordering their speech and their keenness of nature, the Lord were also
to testify to the beauty of their words by never permitting them to fall, the arrogance
with which they would exalt themselves in impurity would probably surpass that of the
devils.'"

10 And the following also did these men of the house of Abbâ Paphnutius say unto us: "When
thou seest evil deeds and acts, that is to say, the conversation of him who leadeth an
evil life [and knowest] that they are fair and exceedingly plausible, remember the Devil
who, [as we learn] from the Holy Scriptures, spake with Christ [St. Matthew iv, 3ff.], and
also the testimony which saith, 'Now the serpent was the most subtle (Genesis iii, 1) of
all the serpents which were on the ' earth,' and that it was by reason of his subtlety
that des- ' truction came upon him, because he possessed no other quality of excellence
which attached itself closely to his cunning. For it is meet that the believing man who
feareth God should ponder upon that which God giveth unto him. And let him speak that
which he meditateth, and let him do that which he speaketh. For if to the asseveration of
words there be not attached a brotherhood in acts and deeds, it is bread without salt,
which cannot be eaten, lest digestion be disturbed, even as the blessed man Job said, 'Can
the thing which is insipid ' be eaten without salt? Or, is there any taste in the juice of
the ' ox-tongue plant?' (Job vi, 6.) Even thus polished words possess no savour whatsoever
unless they be made complete by works.

11 " Now therefore there is one kind of permission which hideth spiritual excellence in
order that it may be revealed, as, for example, that of Job concerning which God made
known when He said unto him (Job xl, 8ff.), 'Blame not My judgement, ' and think not that
I have done these things unto thee for any ' other reason than that it might be known that
thou art ' righteous. Thou wast known unto Me because I see secret ' things, but thou wast
not revealed unto the children of men, ' because they thought that thou didst care
exceedingly for ' riches that thou mightest make perfect My pleasure; it was for ' this
reason that I brought upon thee the trial of stripping thee ' of thy riches so that I
might shew them thy gratitude to- ' wards Me, and thy patient endurance.' 12 " And there
is another kind of permission [which God giveth] in order to drive out pride (or
arrogance), as in the case of Paul, for the blessed Paul was permitted by means of
distractions and a goad, and he fell into divers tribulations, and he said, 'There hath
been given to me a goad in ' my flesh, a messenger of Satan, (2 Corinthians xii, 7) to
buffet ' me so that I may not be [unduly] exalted,' lest through the superfluity of the
revelations, and signs, and gratifications [of the spirit], and prosperity and honours
which were found with him, he might become lax and fall into arrogance. And the paralytic
was permitted because of sin, even according to what our Redeemer said unto him, 'Behold,
' thou art whole; sin no more' (St. John v, 14). And Judas was permitted because he held
money (St. Matthew xxvii, 5) in greater esteem than life, and because of this he hanged
himself. And Esau (Genesis xxv, 32) was permitted, and he fell into filthy desire because
he honoured the dung of the bowels more than the divine birthright. Therefore, because

13 179 1 2d the blessed Paul understood all these things, did he say concerning men,
'Because they have not decided within them- "selves that they will know God, He hath
delivered them over unto an empty understanding so that they may work that which is
unseemly' (Romans i, 21-28). And concerning 'other men who think that the knowledge of God
is in them, together with the corrupt mind which they possess, he said, Because they have
known God, and have not praised Him as God, and given thanks unto Him, He hath delivered
them over unto the passions of disgrace.'" Therefore from these things it is meet that we
should know that it is impossible for a man to stumble and fall into filthy desire without
the permission of the Providence of God.

CHAPTER 54. OF THE BLESSED MAN SOLOMON

Now I went about in Antinoë of the Thebaïd for a period of four years, and I learned
concerning the whole of the system of the religious houses which were there; for there
dwelt by the side of the city about twelve hundred men, who worked with their hands, and
who lived the life of spiritual excellence. Among these there was a number of solitary
monks who shut themselves up in caves, and among them was one who was called Solomon; he
was a chaste and humble man, and unto him was given the gift of patient endurance. He used
to say that he had passed fifty years in the cave, during which time he had fed himself by
means of his labour, and he could repeat the Scriptures by heart.

CHAPTER 55. OF DOROTHEOS THE PRIEST

And there was Dorotheos, a priest, who used to live in a cave, and he possessed more
goodness than many men, and led a spiritual life of high excellence; now he had been held
to be worthy of consecration to the priesthood, and he performed the offices thereof for
the brethren who dwelt in the caves. Unto this blessed man Melania the Less, the kinswoman
of Melania the Great, concerning whom we are about to speak later, sent five hundred
darics and begged him to spend them on behalf of the brethren [who were there]; but he
only took three of them, and then sent the remainder to the wandering monk Diocles, a man
of knowledge and understanding, saying, "O our brother Diocles, thou art wiser than I am;
I am not equal [to spending these]"; and having taken them Diocles was able to spend them
wisely on those whom he knew of a certainty to be in want.

CHAPTER 56. OF DIOCLES

This man Diocles was originally [one] of those who were greatly skilled in grammar, but
afterwards he became learned in philosophy. And having arrived at the period of the
twenty-eighth year of his life, he was called by the Grace of God, and he departed and
removed himself from the house of instruction, and delivered himself over to the promise
of Christ; and having dwelt in caves for the space of thirty-five years, he said unto us,
"The mind which removeth itself from the meditation of God falleth into lust." Now he used
to say that lust was that of a savage, animal, and bestial character, for he said unto us,
"The mind which falleth away from the meditation of God becometh either a devil or a
beast"; and we asked him to explain this saying unto us, and he did so, and said, "The
mind which maketh itself to be remote from the contemplation of God must, perforce, be
delivered over either to the devil of lust, who leadeth [it] into lasciviousness, or to
the evil devil of wrath, wherefrom are produced the animal passions." And he said, "The
feeling of lasciviousness is a bestial thing, but the feeling of wrath appertaineth to the
devil." And making answer I said unto him, "How is it possible for the human mind to be
with God continually and uninterruptedly?" And he said, "The mind of that soul which
liveth in the thought or the fear of God, no matter what it may be, is with God."

CHAPTER 57. OF THE BLESSED MAN KAPITON

Now by the side of this man there used to dwell Kapiton, a man who had been formerly a
thief, and he had lived in holes in the rocks for fifty years, [at a place] which was
about four miles from Antinoë; he never went down from his cave, not even to the river
Nile, for he used to say that he was unable to meet in the congregation of the children of
men him that still fought with him, namely, his Adversary.

CHAPTER 58. OF THE MONK WHO FELL

And by the side of these blessed men I saw a man who also had made himself remote from the
world, and he dwelt in holes in the rocks even as did they; now this man was mocked at by
the devil of vainglory, and by the visions which he saw, and he was deluded (or snared) by
things which appeared to approach him and then wandered away. And he was lacking in mind,
even as it is written, "Being exalted in his dreams he pastureth spirits and pursueth
after a shadow"; now he was chaste in his body, perhaps owing to the length [of his
years], or perhaps through vainglory, yet through the matters of spiritual excellence he
destroyed his understanding, and he was corrupted by empty and polluted glory, and because
of this he departed from the straight road of the ascetic life.

CHAPTER 59. OF THE BLESSED MAN EPHRAIM, THE DEACON OF THE CHURCH OF EDESSA

1 A certain man among the holy Fathers saw in a dream the company of the holy angels who
came down from heaven by the commandment of God, and one of them held in his hand a roll
which was written on the inside and on the outside; and the angels said unto each other,
"Who is fit to be entrusted with this thing?" Then some of them mentioned one man and
others another, and others answered and said, "Verily these [whom ye mention] are holy and
righteous, but they are not sufficiently [so] to be entrusted with this thing." And having
reckoned up many names of Saints, they finally said, "No man is fit to be entrusted with
this thing except Ephraim"; and then they gave the roll to him. And when he had stood up
in the morning, he heard that they were saying, "Behold, Ephraim teacheth, and [his words]
flow from his mouthlike [water from] a fountain"; then the old man who had seen the vision
knew within himself that the things which were proceeding from his lips were of the Holy
Spirit.

2 Now therefore this Ephraim, who was [one] of those who had been held to be worthy of
mention by the saints, travelled along the spiritual road nobly and straightly, turning
neither to one side nor the other of the straight path; and he was held to be worthy of
the gift of the knowledge which he possessed naturally, and subsequently he received the
knowledge which enabled him to utter divine things, and perfect blessedness. Thus he lived
throughout the period of a certain number of years a life of chastity, and stern
asceticism, and contemplation, and he edified all those who thronged to visit him, each
according to his peculiar needs; and finally he compelled himself to go forth from his
cell for the following reason, namely, a mighty famine lay over the city of Edessa. For
having compassion on the creatures of the human race which was perishing and being
destroyed, he spake unto those who were heaping up grain in the store houses, for he saw
that they were wholly without compassion, saying, "How long will ye refuse to bring into
your memories the lovingkindness of God? How long will ye allow your wealth, which is
corruptible, to be the means of the accusation and condemnation of your souls? Then they
took counsel, and said unto him, "There is no man whatsoever whom we can trust to relieve
the wants of those who are dying of hunger; for all the people are crafty and they act in
a lying fashion concerning affairs" [of this kind].

3 Then Ephraim said unto them, "What manner of man do ye imagine that I am? Now his
character was held in the highest esteem by every man [in the city], and every man knew
that he acted according to the truth and not falsehood. And the people said unto him, "O
man, we know that thou art God"; and he said unto them, "Put your trust in me, then, and
give me [the means of relieving] this distress, for behold, for your sakes, I will set
myself apart to become the keeper of a house for receiving strangers. And he took money,
and he began to fence off in the streets places which were suitable for his purpose, and
he provided with great care three hundred beds, some of which were intended for use in the
burial of those who were dying, and others were intended for those who, it was thought,
would live; and, in short, he brought in from the villages which were outside the city all
those whom famine had stricken, and put them to bed, and every day he performed for them
with the greatest possible solicitude the constant service of which they were in need,
[paying for the same] with the money which came to him, and he rejoiced by means of those
who supported him in the matter.

4 And it came to pass that, when that year of famine had been fulfilled, and there arrived
after it a year of abundance, and every man departed to his house, inasmuch as he had
nothing else to do he went into his cell; and after a period of one month he brought his
life to a close, God having given him the opportunity whereby he might be crowned at the
end of his life. Now he left behind him many books, and writings of various kinds, which
were worthy of being preserved with the greatest care. It is said concerning him that when
he was a youth he saw a dream, that is to say a vision, wherein a vine grew up out of his
tongue, and it increased in size, and filled the whole of the space which was beneath the
heavens, and was laden with grape clusters in rich abundance; and all the feathered fowl
of the heavens came and ate of the food thereof, and all the time they were eating the
grape-clusters were increasing both in numbers and in size.

CHAPTER 60. OF INNOCENT THE PRIEST

1 Concerning the matters of the blessed priest Innocent, who [lived] in the Mount of
Olives, I think that thou must have heard from many people, but thou mayest also learn
from us not a few things, for we lived with him for a period of three years. Now therefore
this man was exceedingly simple, and he was [one] of the nobles of the palace in the
kingdom of the Emperor Constantine; he withdrew himself from the partnership of marriage,
but he had a son whose name was Paule, who served in the household [of the Emperor]; and
this son was caught in a transgression with the daughter of a certain priest, and Innocent
was exceedingly wroth with him. Then Innocent made entreaty unto God, saying, "O our Lord,
give thou unto him such a spirit that he will not be able to find time to sin in the lust
of the body," for he thought that it would be better and more excellent in every way for
his son to be delivered over to a devil rather than to fornication. And this actually came
to pass to the youth, and he liveth to this day in the Mount of Olives loaded with irons,
and admonished by a devil. Now this man Innocent, the father of Paule, because he was of a
most merciful disposition—though if I were to tell [the whole truth] I should say that he
appeared to me to be lacking in sense—on very many occasions stole [things] and hid them
from the brethren, and gave them unto those who were in want; but he was a simple man and
had no wickedness in him; and he was held to be worthy of the gift [of the possession of
power] over devils.

2 For a certain maiden, in whom was a devil, came unto him, and whilst we were looking at
her the devil smote her, and threw her down upon the ground and made her body to writhe
and twist about; and when I saw [this] I wished to dismiss that maiden in order that she
might go to her mother, because, on account of the cruelty (or violence) of that devil, I
thought that she could never be healed. And whilst I was pondering those things the old
man Innocent came, and he saw her mother standing, and weeping, and tearing her face with
her nails, and plucking out her hair, because of the great madness, and the gnashing of
the teeth, and the contortions of her daughter. When, therefore, that blessed old man saw
her, his mercy revealed itself because he was grieved on account of her tribulation, and
he took the maiden, and went into his martyrium, which he himself had built, and wherein
was preserved a blessed [relic] of Saint John the Baptist, and having prayed there and
made supplication unto God from the third unto the ninth hour, he gave the maiden [back]
to her mother, and she was healed on that day, and he drove away from her the devil and
[his] struggles [with her]. Now the strugglings and contortions of the maiden were such
that when she spat, she spat upon her side [instead of away from her]; to this extent was
her body twisted.

3 And, again, a certain old woman lost a sheep, and she came to him weeping [about it],
and he took her, and said unto her, Shew me the place where thou didst lose it"; and they
came, therefore, to a place which was near the grave of Lazarus, where he stood up and
prayed. Now certain boys had stolen the sheep and had already killed it. And Innocent
having prayed, and the boys being unwilling to confess that the flesh of the sheep was
buried in a vineyard, a raven suddenly appeared, though wherefrom no man knoweth, which
had taken a piece of flesh from the carcass, and stood over the place where it was; and
when the old man saw this he perceived that the sheep was buried there. Then those boys
fell down and did homage to him, and they confessed that they had taken the sheep, and
paid the price thereof to its mistress.

CHAPTER 61. OF THE BLESSED ELPIDIUS

1 In those caves which, in ancient times, certain men had hewn out of the rock in the
valley of the river near Jericho, wherein those who had fled from before Joshua, the son
of Nun, had gone up and hidden themselves, there dwelt Elpidius; now he was a Cappadocian,
who had been converted in the monastery of Timothy the Chorepiskopos, and he was a
wonderful man and was also held to be worthy of consecration to the priesthood. And he
came and dwelt in one of these caves, and he shewed such patient persistence in his self-
abnegation, that he surpassed and eclipsed many [thereby]; for he followed for five and
twenty years his rule of life, and during that time he only ate food on the Sabbath day,
and on the First Day of the week, and he dwelt like the chief and the king of the bees
among the cells of the whole brotherhood. And he used to rise up continually during the
night and pray; and I myself also dwelt with him. And he made that mountain to be so
peaceful and to contain so many inhabitants that it resembled a city, and during the night
season a man might see the various works, and the labours of all kinds which appertain to
the ascetic life, being performed there.

2 One night, when this man Elpidius was reciting the service, now we were with him, a
scorpion stung him, and he crushed the insect, without either leaving the place where he
was or being in any way moved as a man usually is when he is suffering from the sting of a
scorpion. And one day as he was holding in his hand a vine branch, a certain brother took
it away from him; and as he was sitting by the side of the mountain, he dug a hole and
pushed the vine branch into it, like a man who is planting [vines]; and although it was
not the time for planting, the vine branch sprouted, and grew very large, and spread its
branches abroad until it covered the whole church. Now the name of that brother was
Ænesius, a wonderful man.

CHAPTER 62. OF THE BLESSED MAN EUSTATHIUS

Eustathius was a brother of Elpidius whom [we have mentioned] above, and this man followed
so strenuously after the acquisition of impassibility, and made his body so dry (i.e.,
emaciated) by the labours of vigilant prayer, that the [light of] the sun could be seen
between his ribs. And of him the following story is told by the brethren who were
continually with him, that is to say by his disciples: He never turned himself towards the
west, because close by the side of the door of his cave was a mountain which, because of
its mighty bulk, was very hard [to ascend]; and he never looked at the sun after the sixth
hour of the day, because the door of his cell was hidden by the shadow of the mountain so
long as the sun was declining towards its place of setting. And moreover he could never
see those stars which appear in the western part of the sky, and for five and twenty years
from the time when he entered the cave wherein he dwelt he never went down from the
mountain.

CHAPTER 63. OF THE BLESSED MAN SISINNIUS

Now this holy man Elpidius had a certain disciple whose name was Sisinnius, who was a
slave by birth, though a free man in the faith; by race he was a Cappadocian, and it is
necessary that we should make known the fact that he was so, for the sake of the
glorifying of Christ Who hath made us worthy to be accounted His kinsmen, and to be
exalted to that true family, which is full of happiness, of the kingdom of heaven. Now
therefore when this man Sisinnius had passed some time with Elpidius, and had struggled to
lead the ascetic life strenuously for a period of seven years, he at length shut himself
in a grave for three years, and he endured such privations therein that neither by day nor
by night did he sit or lie down, and he never went out herefrom. And this man was held to
be worthy of possessing the gift of authority over devils, and now that he hath come into
his own country he hath been held to be worthy of the gift of the priesthood; and he hath
made congregations of men and of women, which, according to a sure testimony, lead lives
of purity and chastity. He hath trampled upon the lust which is in men, and he hath
bridled the voluptuousness of the women, so that there hath been fulfilled that which is
written, "In Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female" (Galatians iii, 28). And he
was also a great lover of strangers and of voluntary poverty, which was a reproach unto
those who were rich and miserly.

CHAPTER 64. OF THE BLESSED GADDAI (GADDANUS), THE PALESTINIAN

And I saw a certain old man whose name was Gaddâi, who lived without a shelter all his
days in the places which were by the side of the Jordan. On one occasion the Jews rose up
against him in fierce hatred (or zeal) by the side of the Dead Sea, and they drew the
sword against him, and one of them took up a weapon to smite him, when the following great
and wonderful thing was wrought upon the man who dared to lift up a sword against the
blessed man: the hand of the man who had drawn the sword withered immediately, and the
sword itself fell upon the ground.

CHAPTER 65. OF THE BLESSED MAN ELIJAH

And there was in this place a solitary monk called Elijah who used to dwell in a cave, and
he passed his life in performing the works of spiritual excellence, and was worthy of
praise. One day, when a great many of the brethren thronged to him—now his [dwelling-
place] was a cave—he lacked bread, and he made apologies [to us] because he was troubled
on account of the insufficiency of the bread. Now therefore, when the brethren went into
his cell they found three loaves of bread, and when twenty men had eaten and were
satisfied, there still remained one loaf which, one said, satisfied him for five and
twenty days.

CHAPTER 66. OF SABAS, THE LAYMAN OF JERICHO

And there was a certain layman from Jericho whose name was Sabas, and he had a wife, and
this man loved the monks so much that during the night season he used to go round about in
the desert, and pass by the cells of the solitary monks therein, and outside the cell and
habitation of each one of them he would set down a bushel of dates and vegetables, which
would be sufficient for his wants, for the monks who lived by the side of the Jordan did
not eat bread, and thus this man Sabas supplied the wants of the monks. One day as he was
carrying along a load [of food] for the usual needs of the monks, through the operation of
the Evil One, who is the Adversary of the monks, a lion met him, which terrified him, and
wished to make him to cease from his ministrations to those holy men, and schemed to
prevent him from performing his benevolent intent for their comfort. And the lion having
overtaken him about a mile from the place where the monks were, and having seized him by
his hand in order to turn him aside from his business, He Who by the hand of Daniel shut
the mouth[s] of the lions, shut the mouth of this lion also (Daniel vi, 22; Hebrews xi,
33), and the beast did this lover of alms no harm whatsoever; and although the lion was
exceedingly hungry he only took a very little of the things which Sabas was carrying for
the old men, and then he departed. And it is manifest that He Who gave this man his life
also satisfied the hunger of the lion.

CHAPTER 67. OF THE BLESSED MAN SERAPION OF THE GIRDLE

1 And again there was a certain blessed man whose name was Serapion, who was called
"Serapion of the girdle," because during his whole life he neither put on nor was clothed
with anything except the girdle wherewith he was girt about; and he led a life of the
strictest self-denial and poverty. And though he was a wholly unlearned man he could
repeat all the Scriptures by heart. And by reason of the greatness of his self-denial and
the repetition of the Scriptures he was unable to live in a cell, because he could not
make use of anything which belonged to [this] world; but he went round about at all
seasons and taught the multitudes, and he sold himself voluntarily, and he preached, and
taught, and turned many people unto God. And this form of self-denial was of his own
choosing, and [it was by such means as this that he made] his preparation [for heaven];
now there are very many ways of leading a stern life of self-denial. And many of the
venerable fathers relate concerning him that on one occasion he took a fellow monk, who
sold him to some comic actors for twenty dīnārs in a city of the heathen, and having
received these dīnārs he tied them up [in a bag] and sealed them, and kept them carefully;
and then he became subject to and ministered in all humility to those actors who had
bought him until he had taught them and made them Christians, and had freed them from
following the business of the theatre. And he never ate anything except dry bread and
water, and his mouth never once ceased from uttering [the words of] the Scriptures.

2 Now the man [who was the master of the actors] was the first to become converted and
enlightened by the word of God, and the next was his wife, and finally their whole house
was converted. During the first years after the actors had bought him, and when they did
not know who he was, he used to wash their feet with his hands, and having taught them and
baptized them he made them to be remote from their occupation in the theatre, and they led
a God-fearing life in all righteousness; and they held him in reverence, and honoured him,
and marvelled at his radiant life. Finally they said unto him, "Come, O our brother, we
will set thee free from this servitude, even as thou hast set us free from the slavery of
heathenism. Then he answered and said unto them, "Since God hath helped [me], and your
souls have been set free and they have life, I will tell you my story (or thing) and my
contending. I undertook this kind of work in order that your souls might have life. By
race I am an Egyptian, and a free man [but] I am a monk [vowed] to self-denial and
poverty, and for the sake of our Lord I sold myself to you in order that your souls might
be set free from the impurity of this world;

3 since now our Lord hath worked through my meekness, and your souls live, take your gold,
and I will go to another place, so that I may be able to benefit others also. And they
begged and entreated him, saying, "Remain with us, and thou shalt be unto us a father and
a master, and a director"; but he would not hearken unto their entreaty. And again they
answered and said unto him, "Give the gold to the poor, and let it be a pledge of life for
us; and we entreat thee to see us if it be only once a year." 4 Then, this man having gone
round about came to Hellas, and stayed in Athens three days, and no man gave him a morsel
of bread; now he carried nothing with him, neither purse, nor wallet, nor head-cloak, nor
anything whatsoever. And when the fourth day had come, he waxed exceedingly hungry, and he
went and stood up upon a certain high place where all the free men of the city were
gathered together, and he began to clap his hands, and to cry out with a loud voice,
saying, "O men of Athens, send [help]." And at [the sound of] his voice they all
marvelled, and the free men and the soldiers ran to him, and said unto him, "What aileth
thee? Whence comest thou? What hath happened unto these?" Then he answered and said unto
them, "By race I am an Egyptian, and being a long way from my true country I have fallen
into the hands of three creditors; now two of these have departed from me, having taken
that which was theirs, and now they have no debt against me about which to chide me, but
the third will not leave me."

5 And the philosophers made enquiries of him who these creditors were, and they said unto
him, "Shew us who thy creditors are, and who it is that is afflicting thee, and we will
entreat them [to desist]; shew us who they are, so that we may help thee." And he answered
and said unto them, "From my youth up the love of money, and fornication, and the appetite
of the belly have oppressed me; from the first two of these, that is, the love of money
and fornication, I have been freed, and they no longer oppress me, but I am wholly unable
to set myself free from the appetite of the belly. Behold, it is now the fourth day since
I have eaten anything and the belly constraineth me, for it demandeth that which is its
usual debt, and unless this debt [be paid] I shall not be able to live." Then certain of
the philosophers thought that he had schemed this crafty device in order that he might
gain some benefit, and one of them took a dînâr and gave it unto him, and having taken it
he spent [part of] it in buying bread in their presence; and he took one [loaf of] bread,
and straightway departed from the city, and did not come back to it again. Thus the
philosophers knew that he was indeed a wonderful man, and they paid the price of the loaf
of bread which he had taken, and received back the dînâr.

6 And having departed to another city he heard there concerning a certain other man, who
was the chief of the whole city, and who was a Manichaean, with all his house, and who had
several associates [in the city]. Then the monk, according to his former plan, sold
himself to this Manichaean, and in two years he was able to turn this man and his wife
[from their error], and to bring them into the Catholic Church; and after they had learned
who he was, they never again regarded him as a slave, but they honoured him as a father,
and as a master, and they ascribed praise unto God. 7 And on another occasion he
determined to go to Rome, and he embarked in a ship which was going thither that he might
go with them (i.e., with the sailors). Now when the sailors of the ship saw that he boldly
embarked in the ship carrying nothing with him, neither bread, nor anything [else], nor
provisions for the journey, they thought that one of their number must have taken his
baggage and placed it in the ship, and because of this thought they received him
unquestioningly. And having embarked, when the sailors had sailed from Alexandria [a
distance of] about five hundred stadia, each one of those who were sitting in the ship
began at the time of sunset to eat, and the sailors also ate in their presence; and they
observed that the monk did not eat on the first day, and thought that [he did not do so]
because of sea-sickness, and thus also was it on the second day, and on the third day, and
on the fourth day. Now on the fifth day, whilst all those who were on the ship were eating
their meal he sat in his place and was silent, and as they were looking at him they said,
"Why dost thou not eat? and he replied, "I have nothing [to eat]. Then they began to make
enquiries and to cry out among themselves, "Who among you has taken his things, or his
provisions for the way?

8 And when they saw that no man had taken anything from him [they began to] dispute with
him, and to say unto him, "O man, how is it that thou hast embarked on the ship without
provisions and money? Where wilt thou obtain the money to give us for thy passage? And he
said unto them, "I have thought nothing whatsoever about it, [for] an Egyptian has no
anxious care about anything; but carry me back whence ye took me and cast me out [if you
wish]. Now even if he had given them one hundred dinārs they would not have been able to
take him back [to Alexandria], and he therefore remained in the ship, and they fed him
until he arrived in Rome. And having come to Rome he made enquiries and learned what monk
or nun was there, and he found Runnin (or Dōmnin), the disciple of Evagrius, whose bed,
after his death, cured every kind of sickness. And having seen him, and spoken with him he
was greatly edified by him, for he was a man who was greatly skilled in the labours of the
ascetic life, and in speech, and in knowledge, and he learned from him what monk, and nuns
were in Rome, in order that he might see them.

9 [Here some editor of Palladius remarks, "In another manuscript the following is
written":] 10 And the venerable fathers relate concerning him that he once heard that
there was in the city of Rome a certain nun who led a life of the strictest seclusion, who
had never seen a man, and who used to think concerning herself that she was perfect. Then
this blessed man threw himself into a ship and came to Rome, and having learned where she
lived he went and spake with the old woman who ministered unto her, and said unto her,
"Get thee in and say unto the virgin, I desire to see thee most eagerly, because God hath
sent me unto thee"; and he waited two days and then saw her. And when he saw her he said
unto her, "Sit thee down," and she said unto him, "I will not sit down, but will depart."
And he said unto her, "Whither goest thou?" and she said unto him, "To God." And he said
unto her, "Art thou living or dead?" And she said unto him, "I believe, by God, that I am
dead, for who that liveth in the body is not able to depart [therefrom]?" And he said unto
her, "If thou art dead, as thou sayest, do thou that which I do"; and she said unto him,
"Tell me what can happen, and I will do it." And again he said unto her, "To one who is
dead unto the world it is easy to do everything except commit sin," and he further said
unto her, "Come down, and get thee out of thine house"; then she said unto him, "I have
not gone out of it for five and twenty years, why should I go out of it now?" And he said
unto her, "If thou art indeed dead unto the world, and the world is dead unto thee, it is
the same thing unto thee whether thou goest forth or dost not go forth; come, get thee
out." And she went out.

11 And after she had gone forth, she followed him to a certain church, and he said unto
her in the church, "If thou wishest 'me to believe that thou art dead to the world and art
not alive, in order that thou mayest be pleasing unto the children of men, do what I do,
and then I will believe thee, and I shall know that thou art a dead woman, even as thou
sayest.' And she said unto him, 'Tell me what it is meet for me to do, and I will do it.'
Then he said unto her, 'Cast off thy garments and put [them] on thy head, and walk through
the midst of the city, and I will do likewise, and will go in front of thee in this
guise.' And the nun said unto him, 'I should offend many folk by such a remarkable act as
this, and then they would say, This woman hath gone ' mad, and hath a devil.' And he said
unto her, 'What need hast thou to consider [their words] even if they should say, ' She
hath gone mad, and hath a devil?' For, according to 'what thou thyself sayest, thou art a
dead woman unto them.' And the nun said unto him, 'If there be any other thing [except
this] tell me, for I cannot come to such a measure of disgrace as this.' Then he said unto
her, 'Do not imagine in thy mind that thou art more perfect than anyone else, or that thou
art dead to the world;

12 for I am far more dead to the world than thou art, and I can show thee that I am indeed
so, and that I can boldly do this thing without '[feeling] shame or disgrace.' Then having
broken her spirit and humbled her pride, he departed from her. And there were many things
of the same kind which this same Serapion did in the world, for he despised both worldly
shame and the glory which passeth away; he died at the age of sixty years, and was buried
at a good old age, being adorned with all virtues.

CHAPTER 68. THE TRIUMPH OF THE BLESSED MAN EULOGIUS, WHO MINISTERED UNTO THE ARIAN, WHOSE BODY WAS DESTROYED FOR THE SAKE OF CHRIST

1 The following story] was related unto me by Cronius, the priest of Nitria, [who
said]:—When I was a young man I abhorred the monastery, and I fled from it, and from the
head of the monastery who was my instructor, and having lost my way and gone round about,
I came unto the Monastery of Mâr Anthony; now he used to dwell between the mountains of
Babylon and Herakleia, in a parched desert which led to the Red Sea, about thirty miles
from the river [Nile], and I was there in that monastery wherein dwelt those disciples of
his who buried him when he died, now their names were Macarius and Amatus, in a place
which was called Espîr. And I remained there for five days, so that I might be able to see
the blessed Anthony, for they used to say that he was in the habit of coming to this
monastery from the Inner Desert once every five, or ten, or twenty days, according as God
directed and brought him, to give help unto the souls who thronged into his monastery, and
who awaited him there, in order that they might be relieved by him. And the brethren also
were assembled there and waited for him also, each one of them having his own individual
matter [to lay before him].

2 Now among them was a certain man from Alexandria, whose name was Eulogius, and with him
was another man, an Arian, whose body was destroyed (i.e., he was a leper), and they had
come because of this matter. And this man Eulogius was a scholastic, and he was the most
educated of all the learned men [of this time], but the love of the living God had
suddenly come into his mind, and he made himself to be remote from the world, and he
distributed all the money which he had among the poor, and he left himself only a small
sum which was just sufficient for his bodily needs, for he was unable to work or to enter
into a monastery with many monks in it, and besides this lassitude was contending with
him, and he sought a little companionship. 3 Now [he went forth] seeking to buy something
which he wanted in the city, and he found in the market a certain man who was an Arian,
and whose whole body was destroyed; he had neither hands nor feet, but his tongue was
sharp, and he employed it unsparingly upon every man whom he met. And when Eulogius had
seen him, and looked at him, he lifted up his eyes and his mind towards God, and he prayed
and made this covenant between himself and God, saying, "O our Lord Jesus Christ, in Thy
Name, O my Lord, I will take this man, who is sick in his body, and I will relieve [his
wants] all the days of my life, so that through him my soul may live before Thee; but I
beseech Thee to give me power to endure in my ministrations to him." And having prayed, he
drew nigh unto the man, and said unto him, "I beseech thee, O man, to let me take thee
unto my house and to relieve thy wants." And the sick man said unto him, "Why not?" Then
Eulogius said unto him, "I will therefore bring an ass, and carry thee off," and he
promised him [saying], "I . . . . ."; and he went and brought an ass and carried him to
the place where he lived, and he took care of him with the greatest diligence. And for a
period of fifteen years Eulogius relieved his wants with the greatest and most careful
attention, and he even washed him with his own hands, and he did everything he could to
alleviate the affliction of his sickness.

4 193 Now after fifteen years a devil began to stir in that Arian, and he began to revile
Eulogius, and to offer resistance to him, and he cursed him and hurled after him insults
and abuse, saying, "O thou runaway [slave], who hast eaten thy lord, thou hast stolen the
riches of other folk and art spending them upon me, and thou thinkest to have life through
me! Cast me out into the street, for I wish to eat flesh. And Eulogius brought him flesh,
and again he cried out, and said, "Thou wilt not persuade me [to remain here] by these
means; I wish to go forth into the street, and I desire to see the world. By Jupiter,
carry me out and cast me where thou didst find me. If I only had hands I would strangle
myself. Now [he spake] thus through the madness of the devil which was with him. Then
Eulogius rose up and went to the neighbouring monks and said unto them, "What shall I do?
for this deformed man hath brought me to despair. I would set him free, only I have given
[my] right hand in covenant to God, and I am afraid [to do so]; but on the other hand, if
I do not cast him out he will bring upon me bad nights and bitter days. What to do with
him I know not. And they said unto him, "[Anthony] the Great is still alive, go to him;

5 take the man with thee in a ship, and go thou up to him, and carry the man to his
monastery, and wait there until he cometh from the desert and then tell him thy business.
And whatsoever word he shall say unto thee thou shalt perform, for God shall speak unto
thee through him. Then Eulogius was persuaded by them, and he placed the man in a small
boat, and he carried him to the monastery wherein were the disciples of Anthony. 6 And it
came to pass that on the very day after Eulogius had arrived there that great man came
from the inner desert to his disciples in the late evening, and he was clothed in [his]
skin cloak. Now whensoever he came to his monastery he was in the habit of calling out to
his disciple Macarius, and saying unto him, "O brother Macarius, have any brethren come
this day from anywhere?" And Macarius would say, "Yea." Then Anthony would say, "Are they
Egyptians or Jerusalemites?" Now he had given Macarius this sign:—"When thou seest
brethren who are simple and innocent say they are Egyptians; but when thou seest brethren
who are venerable and are skilled in speaking, say they are Jerusalemites." Therefore
according to his custom Anthony asked Macarius, "Are they Egyptian brethren or
Jerusalemites?" and Macarius said, "They are neither Egyptians nor Jerusalemites." Now
when Macarius would answer, "They are Egyptians," Anthony would say unto him, "Cook them a
mess of lentils that they may eat, and then dismiss them, and let them go in peace"; and
he would say a prayer on their behalf, and would straightway send them away. And when
Macarius would answer, "They are Jerusalemites," Anthony would sit down the whole night,
and would converse with them to the benefit of their lives.

7 And on that night he sat down, and called unto them all, and he discoursed without any
man having told him the name of one of them, and it was dark and the night had come; and
suddenly he cried out three times, thus, "Eulogius, Eulogius, Eulogius. And Eulogius the
scholastic answered him never a word, because he thought that Anthony was calling some
other person, and again Anthony cried out to him, "Unto thee I speak, O Eulogius, who hast
come from Alexandria. Then Eulogius said unto him, "Master, what commandest thou [me to
do? Tell me], I beseech thee. And Anthony said unto him, "Wherefore hast thou come? And
Eulogius answered and said unto him, "Let Him that hath revealed unto thee my name declare
unto thee for what purpose I have come. Then Anthony said unto him, "I know why thou hast
come, nevertheless declare [it] before the brethren in order that they may hear. And
Eulogius answered and said unto him, "I found this Arian in the street (or market), and I
gave the right hand to God (i. e., made a covenant with God), that I would minister unto
him, [that] I might live because of him, and he because of me. And behold I have
ministered unto him for the last fifteen years, and now, after all these years he stirreth
[himself] up against me, and causeth me tribulation, and I have had it in my mind to cast
him out;

8 therefore I have come unto thy holiness so that thou mayest advise me what I should do,
and that thou mayest pray on my behalf, for I am greatly oppressed and am in sore straits.
Then Anthony said unto him angrily and in a hard voice, "If thou sendest him away, He who
created him will not send him away; if thou dost cast him out, God, Who is better and more
excellent than thou, will gather him [to Himself]; and when Eulogius heard these words he
set a bridle on his mouth and was silent. 9 And having left Eulogius [Anthony] came to
chastise the Arian with his tongue, and he cried out and said unto him, "O thou deformed
Arian, thou art worthy neither of heaven nor of earth. Wilt thou not cease to contend
against God? Knowest thou not that he who ministereth unto thee is Christ? How canst thou
dare to utter these words against our Lord? Was it not for Christ's sake that Eulogius
gave himself to thy service?" Then having made the man sorrowful, he ceased from Eulogius
and the Arian, and spake unto all the brethren who were there, unto

10 195 every man according to his business. And he called unto Eulogius and the Arian and
said unto them, "Turn ye not unto any [other] place, but depart and separate not
yourselves from one another, and return ye to the cell wherein ye have lived so long a
time, for behold God will send upon you [your] end. And behold, this trial hath come upon
you because the end of both of you is nigh, and because ye are esteemed worthy of crowns.
Therefore do not ye act in a contrary manner, and let not the angel come after you and not
find you in your place[s], [lest ye be deprived of your crowns];" so the two of them
departed and came to their cell. And in less than forty days Eulogius died, and in less
than three days afterwards the Arian died. Now this Chronius, who related unto us the
narrative of this matter, tarried for a time in the monasteries which were in the Thebaid,
and he came down to the monasteries which were in Alexandria; and it happened that the
brethren were gathered together commemorating the death of Eulogius after forty days, and
the death of the Arian after three days. And when Chronius heard he marvelled, and he took
down a Book of the Gospels, and set [it] down among the brotherhood, and then related what
had happened; and he took an oath and said, "In all this affair I was the interpreter for
Mâr Anthony because he did not know Greek; but I know both languages, [and I acted
interpreter for both sides, turning Greek into Egyptian for Eulogius, and Egyptian into
Greek for Anthony.]"


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO (CHAPTERS 1. THE TRIUMPH OF THE BLESSED MAN MARK THE MOURNER–14. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED EVAGRIUS, THE SOLITARY AND STRENUOUS MONK)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO Palladius of Galatia

c. AD 363–420

The second book of the Paradise of Palladius in its Syriac form: further stories of the
triumphs of the desert monks, among them Mark the Mourner, Paul the first hermit, Evagrius
and Malchus the captive monk.

CHAPTER 1. THE TRIUMPH OF THE BLESSED MAN MARK THE MOURNER

Macarius the priest told us the following story:— "At the time when I was administering
the Holy Offering I took good heed unto Mark the mourner, and I never gave it to him, but
an angel did so from the altar; I saw, however, the palm of the hand of the angel who gave
it unto him." Now this Mark was a young man, and he could repeat by heart the New and the
Old Testaments; he was meek beyond measure, and both in body and in thought he was purer
than many.

CHAPTER 2. THE HISTORY OF MAR PAULUS (PAULO) THE PRINCE OF MONKS AND ANCHORITE

1 Concerning Abbâ Paulus there were questions among the monks and anchorites who were
living in the land of Egypt, and they asked who were the first monks who lived in the
desert. And some of them remembered the saints of olden time, and said, "It hath been
proved that the first to dwell in the desert were Saint Elijah the Prophet, and John the
Baptist, and it is manifest that Elijah was immeasurably superior in ascetic excellence to
the [other] monks, and, moreover, John was proclaimed in the womb to be a prophet before
he was born." Now there were many who contradicted this opinion and who asserted with
firmness that Mâr Anthony was the first and the prince of them all, and also of the order
[of monks]; but if we wish to learn the whole truth we shall discover that it was not Mâr
Anthony who was the first [monk] that dwelt in the desert, but the blessed man Mâr Paulus.
For I myself have seen the disciples of Mâr Anthony who buried him, and they it was who
related unto us the history of the man Paulus the anchorite, the Theban, who was indeed
the first [monk to live] in the desert; therefore we believe that it was not the blessed
man [Anthony] who was the first to do this, as some men say, but Paulus, and for this
reason I wish to narrate briefly the history of Paulus the anchorite, and how he began and
how he ended his [career] in the days of Decius and Valerianus the persecutors, and [how]
Cornelius made an end of the strife of his testimony for the sake of the Name of our Lord
Jesus Christ in Rome.

2 Now this blessed man Paulus dwelt with his sister, who was the wife of a certain man;
and their parents died and left them great riches when the blessed man Paulus was sixteen
years of age. And he had been educated in the learning of the Greeks and the Egyptians,
and he was meek of soul, and he loved God thoroughly. And when the persecution of the
Christians waxed strong, he remained continually in one place, and he took care of himself
at all seasons (or continually). Now the avarice which constraineth the race of the
children of men to commit evil deeds did not cease from him, for his sister's husband,
instead of hiding him, endeavoured most strenuously to give him up [to the persecutors],
and he neither had pity upon the tears of his wife nor did he fear the judgement of God;
and he desisted not from this iniquitous conduct, but continued in his envy and sought
always to give him up because he was a Christian. And the wise young man, having
comprehended his guile and knowing that he was lying in wait for him, took to flight
secretly, and he went to a certain high mountain which he found to be not what he desired,
and he changed his place [of abode] on account of the violence (or necessity) of the
persecution;

3 but as he was living there, little by little he found out in the mountain a rock,
wherein was a large cave, which was shut in with a stone, and having lifted up the stone
he found within great repose, and he looked inside with great desire. And he discovered
that the cave was clean, and that the dust of the ground also was fair, and he loved the
place and dwelt there, and he gave thanks unto God Who had given it unto him for a
dwelling-place; and he lived in that mountain all the days of his life, and his food and
his raiment were made of the palm trees which were in the mountain. Now in order that no
man may say, "How is this possible? I take God and His holy angels to witness that we have
seen many monks [living] in this fashion, and that they have brought their lives to an end
in this way, and have not been afraid of Satan.

4 I must not, however, neglect the history of the blessed man Paulus. This holy man lived
a heavenly life upon the earth in love to our Lord for one hundred and thirteen years; and
Mâr Anthony, who was ninety years old at the time, was living in another desert. And Mâr
Anthony on one occasion told me the following: "I once thought within myself that there
was no man living beyond me in the desert, and on the night wherein I pondered upon these
things in my mind, it was revealed unto me from God [by one] who said unto me, 'Beyond
thee [in the desert] there is a man who is more excellent than thou art, and it is meet
that thou shouldst [go and] see him with all diligence, and with great joy.'" And when the
morning had come, the blessed old man Mâr Anthony took the palm branch whereon he leaned
his weight, and he began to walk in the desert as his mind directed, because he did not
know the way; and when it was noon, although the heat of the sun was fierce and burning,
the blessed old man did not turn aside from the way, but he said, "I believe that God will
not withdraw [His] hands from me, but will shew me His servant concerning whom He hath
sent me a revelation."

5 And as he was thinking thus about him he suddenly saw a man who possessed two natures,
one half of him being that of a man, and the other half being that of a horse; now the
poets call this being a "centaur. Then the blessed Anthony called unto him and said, "I, a
man of God, say unto thee, 'Where " 'dost thou dwell here?'" And the creature returned him
an answer in a barbarous language with words of impurity, and his mouth was full of fear;
so the old man went on his journey seeking out the way. And as Anthony was marvelling [at
this thing] the animal passed in front of him as if [it were going] to a broad field, and
[Anthony knew that] it was Satan who had taken the form of the creature in order that he
might terrify the blessed man, and he wondered at the similitude of the form which he had
seen in the animal. And having passed on a little way further he saw another animal, which
was smaller in stature than the first one, and he was standing on a rock, and he had horns
upon his head and on his forehead; and when the blessed Anthony saw him he put on the
helmet of faith and [took the] shield of righteousness, and he asked him, "Who art thou
whom I see here?

6 And the creature answered and said unto him, "I am a mortal man and one of these who are
in the desert, whom the heathen call 'satyrs,' and whom because of their error concerning
them they worship as a god"; and the beast having spoken these words the old man Anthony
went on his way, and his tears were flowing and they ran down upon the ground, but he
rejoiced because of the glory of Christ, and because of the destruction of Satan, and he
wondered within himself how he had been able to understand the words of the animal. Then
he smote the ground with his staff and said, "Woe be to Alexandria! Woe be to the city of
the heathen, wherein are gathered together all the devils of all creation!" 7 And Anthony
went on his journey thinking anxiously [how] he could attain to the end thereof, and he
wished to find the servant of God; and whilst he was meditating what he should do and
where he should go, he observed on the flat surface of the desert the footprints of an
animal which had passed over the spot that very day. Then he meditated within himself,
saying, "It is impossible for our Lord to forsake me"; and he journeyed on his way during
the night with his prayers in his mouth continually. And when the morning had come he saw
a huge hyena, running with all its might up to the top of a mountain, and he followed in
its footsteps, and having ascended the mountain he came nigh unto a cave, and saw the
hyena going into it; and he looked into the cave and saw perfect love, that is to say, Mâr
Paule, the old man. Then he cast away from him all fear and doubtful thoughts, and looking
into the cave he saw that there was much light therein, and he approached the door of the
cave, and knocked thereat with a small stone, but as soon as the blessed man Paule heard
the sound of the knocking he rolled the stone [down] quickly and closed the entrance of
the cave. Then Anthony fell upon his face before the door of the cave and besought him to
let him come in, and said, "I am alone";

8 [and the blessed man Paule answered and said, "Why hast thou come?"] And Anthony said,
"I know that I am not worthy to see thee, but since thou receivest wild beasts why dost
thou hold the children of men in abhorrence? I have sought and have found [thee], and I
knocked with confidence; open thou then the door unto me. And if this may not be I shall
die here, and when thou seest my dead body do thou bury it. And when with these words
Anthony had taken up his position there the blessed man Paule answered from within and
said unto him, "No man who is angry cometh [in here], and no man entreateth [for
admission] and maketh accusations"; then he spake unto him words of gladness, and he
opened unto him the door, and they met and embraced each other and kissed each other with
holy kisses, and each man told his fellow his name.

9 Then after these things the blessed man Paule made Mâr Anthony sit by his side, and he
said unto him, "Why didst thou cast upon thyself all this tribulation, and the great
labour of seeking to see an old man whose body is altogether withered and emaciated? After
a short time thou wilt see that I have become dust; but love overcometh all things. Tell
me now what is the present condition of the race of the children of men, and whether they
are still building houses in the ancient cities, and whether there are still kings in the
world, and whether the governors of the world are still in subjection to the error of
devils." And having said these things unto Anthony the two of them looked and they saw a
raven sitting on the branch of a tree, and straightway it stood up with great quietness
upon the branch, and it had in its beak a whole loaf of bread which it came and laid down
between them, whilst both men were looking on; and when the bird had departed they both
marvelled. And the blessed Paule said unto Mâr Anthony, "Truly our Lord is merciful and
pitiful in that He sendeth us a meal [in this way]. For behold, for fully sixty years I
have been in the habit of receiving from this bird half a loaf of bread [daily], but at
thy coming, behold, our Lord hath sent unto us a double portion of food because we are His
servants." Then having given thanks unto God, both men sat down at the table, and they
disputed with each other who should first break the bread, and whilst they were thus
disputing the night came on; thereupon the two men took the bread and spread out their
hands, and brake the loaf in the Name of our Lord, and ate it, and having eaten they stood
up the whole night in prayer.

10 Now when the morning had come Paule said unto Anthony, "Thou must know, O my brother
Anthony, that I have been living in the desert for a long time past, and that it was our
Lord Himself who revealed unto me what manner of man thou art; but, because the time of my
rest hath come, and because that which I have been seeking, that is to say, that I should
depart and be with our Lord, is about to overtake me [I could not go to see thee]. And now
that my time hath come to an end, and, as I believe, a crown of righteousness hath been
laid up for me, thou hast been sent by our Lord that thou mayest bury my body in the
ground." Now whilst the blessed man Paule was saying these things Mâr Anthony was weeping
with many tears and heaving sighs, and he made supplication unto him, and said, "O my
beloved one, leave thou me not here, but take me with thee whither thou goest." And the
blessed Paule answered and said unto him, "It is not meet that thou shouldst seek thine
own [advantage], but that of thy neighbours, and therefore, O my beloved, I beseech thee,
if it be not a thing which is too hard for thee, to go quickly to thy monastery, and to
bring hither to me the cloak which Mâr Athanasius the Bishop gave thee." Now he did not
speak thus because he had need of any apparel, but because he wished to depart from his
body whilst Mâr Anthony was absent.

11 And when Anthony heard concerning the Bishop and concerning his cloak, he marvelled
within himself, and having looked upon the blessed Paule in our Lord Jesus, and bowed down
before him, he prayed and set forth to go on his journey, and he approached and kissed him
on his eyes and on his hands, and he made haste and went forth to depart to his monastery.
And having made the journey and arrived at this monastery, his two disciples, who had been
seeking him for a long time, met him, and they said unto him, "O father, where hast thou
been these days? And he answered and said unto them, "Woe be unto me! woe be unto me a
sinner! For the name of 'Christian' which I bear is only a borrowed thing. This day have I
seen Elijah and John in the desert, for verily I have seen Paule in Paradise, and he was
holding converse with them"; and Mâr Anthony smote with his hand upon his breast, and he
took the cloak and went from his disciples, who besought him to reveal unto them the whole
matter. And he said unto them, "There is a time to be silent, and a time to speak"; so he
departed and went forth on his way without taking any provision whatsoever with him.

12 And he made haste to come to the place where the blessed man Paule was, for he desired
earnestly to see him [again], and he was afraid lest whilst he was yet afar off Paule
might deliver himself up unto our Lord. And he journeyed on his way the first day, but on
the second day, at the time of the ninth hour, he saw along the road, in the air, a
company of angels, and a multitude of the Prophets and of the Apostles, and Abbâ Paule,
who was shining with light like the sun, was in their midst, and he went up with them into
heaven. And immediately he saw them he fell upon his face on the ground, and he sighed and
wept, and cried out, and said, "O fearer of God, why hast thou left me thus? And why didst
thou not receive my salutation together with all [the toil of] this journey which I have
made as swiftly as a bird?"

13 And Mâr Anthony went on his way and arrived at the cave, and he saw Abbâ Paule kneeling
upon his knees, with his face gazing into heaven and his hands spread out; and seeing him
thus Mâr Anthony thought within himself, and said, "Perhaps he is alive"; and he prayed
fervently, and the blessed Paule also stood up and prayed with him. And when some time had
elapsed, and he heard neither the sound[s] nor the sighs which are customary in prayer, he
knew that it was only the body of Abbâ Paule which prayed; and he bowed down before God,
in Whom everything liveth, and he placed the body in the middle of the cloak, and wrapped
it in it, and he took it upon his shoulders; and though he sang Psalms, according to the
custom of the monks, the blessed Anthony was greatly grieved because he had not remembered
to bring with him a spade or some other instrument wherewith to dig a grave for the body.
Then he meditated within himself and said, "What shall I do? If I go to my monastery and
bring a spade I cannot possibly return here in less than four days"; and he said, "O Jesus
Christ, let me also die with Thy beloved servant Paule."

14 Now as he was saying these things, behold, two lions came running along together, and
when he saw them his whole body smoked with fear; and when he had lifted up his mind to
God and had looked at them again, they appeared to be doves flying through the air. And
the lions drew nigh and stood near the body of the blessed Paule, and they wagged their
tails at the blessed Anthony, and they crouched down before him in perfect tameness, and
they rubbed their teeth together and purred so loudly that the blessed man knew that they
wished to be blessed, and to be helped, and that they desired [to know] concerning the
departure of the blessed Paule. And after they had acted thus, the lions began to dig [a
grave], and they threw up the earth with their paws, and they made the hole in the ground
deep enough, and wide enough, and long enough, according to the measure of the body; and
they lowered their ears and their tails, and bowed down their heads before Abbâ Anthony,
and they licked his hands and his feet, and he knew that they wished to be blessed. Then
he gave thanks for the glory of God because that even the wild and savage beasts knew how
to [help] the good and chosen men of God, and he spake thus:—"O Lord God, without Whose
command not one 'leaf falleth to the ground, and against Whose Will not one bird droppeth
into the snare, do Thou bless all of us.

15 And he brought his hand nigh unto the lions, and commanded them to depart; and when the
two lions had gone away Anthony took the body and buried it in the customary way. Then,
after one day, he took the tunic of Abbâ Paule, which was made of palm leaves sewn
together, like a true inheritance and a thing which brought privilege, and departed to his
monastery. And when he had arrived there he related unto the monks the whole matter in due
order; and on the feast of unleavened bread and at Pentecost Saint Anthony used to put on
the tunic of the blessed and holy man Paule, and he would pray with it upon him. 16 And I,
Hieronymus the sinner, entreat all those who read this book to pray for me. [In the text
here comes the following note by some editor of Palladius:] Concerning these histories of
Paule, and of the company of Mark (?), and of Macarius, there are some who say that they
were compiled by Hieronymus because his name occurs at the end of them.

CHAPTER 3. THE TRIUMPH OF A YOUNG MAN WHO WAS AN ALEXANDRIAN

1 There was a certain young man in Alexandria, who, immediately the law of nature began to
work in him, and to make him to possess the knowledge which distinguisheth good from evil,
endeavoured by every means in his power to make himself wholly a stranger unto things
which are evil, and to cleave unto those which are good. And having been trained for a
long time, and having made himself proficient in the things which befit monks, even though
he still lived and went about in the city, he at a certain time thought within himself,
and said, "Since there is no good reason what-soever which compelleth me forcibly to
remain in the city any longer it is not right that I should do so," and he was at all
times reminding himself of the word which was spoken by our Lord to the rich man, "If thou
wishest to be perfect, go and sell all that thou hast and give [it] to the poor, and take
thy cross and come after Me" (St. Matthew xix, 21). And the young man said, "The word of
our Lord is true, but it is impossible for a man to acquire that perfection of which He
spake whilst he is living among men."

2 When then he had made himself ready to perform in very deed this great thought, he began
to journey along the road which leadeth to one of the deserts of Alexandria, where large
numbers of monks used to dwell, and he offered up prayer unto God that He would prepare a
way for him, and would direct him unto a man who would be able to help him [to attain] his
object, and would lead him to the end which he desired. And he decided within himself, and
said, "This shall be unto me a sign that the Lord hath prepared His way before me:—The
door whereat I shall knock, and wherefrom shall go forth one who liveth there, and shall
receive me in peace, and shall urge me to go in to him, and shall receive me in the love
which monks have for strangers, that shall be the place, and that shall be the man whom
the Lord hath prepared for the fulfilment of my thoughts concerning spiritual excellence.
And he said, "Unto the man who hath been prepared by the Lord it is meet for me to be in
subjection as unto Christ, and I must hearken unto his command willingly and
unhesitatingly as unto that of Christ. Now as he was praying with these words, and with
others which were like unto them, and was thinking deeply, he arrived in the desert into
which he had set his face to go.

3 And having gone in among the monasteries, he found himself by the dispensation of God
before the door of a habitation wherein a certain old man dwelt; and when, according to
his expectation, he had drawn nigh, and had knocked at the door which was in front of him,
there came forth therefrom straightway the old man who dwelt inside, and opened the door
to him; and when he saw the young man who was standing there he saluted him gladly, when
as yet he had asked him nothing whatsoever, and entreated him urgently to come inside. And
this actually took place. 4 Now after he had gone in and had, according to custom, prayed,
and sat down, the young man compared the things which had taken place with those which he
had written down in his mind, and he waited for a right issue to all [the rest]. Then,
being full of gladness, the old man urged him repeatedly to partake of food, but the young
man answered and said unto him, "My lord, I beseech thy holiness to permit me first of all
to speak openly, and to make known to thy fatherly nature the reason of my coming, and if
through the working of God thou wilt make thyself the perfecter of my desire, and of my
thoughts, whatsoever thy holiness and thy meekness shall command me [to do] I will perform
strenuously." Now when the old man had heard these things, he answered and said unto him,
"Thou hast full power to say everything which thou wishest, joyfully and fearlessly, as
unto thy father who, according to his power, in great love, is ready to fulfil thy desire
by the help of God." Then, after these words, which the old man spake in simplicity (now
none of the thoughts of the young man had entered into his mind), the young man made
clearly manifest before the old man the matters which he had marked out and decided upon
in his mind from the beginning of his actions in the city even until that very hour.

5 And when the old man had heard all these things he was greatly moved and disturbed,
because he remembered his own former acts and life, and because he was held in contempt by
his conscience by reason of the conditions and circumstances under which he was then
living, and because that by reason of these he was unable to promise to fulfil the works
of which he had [then] no knowledge whatsoever, [and he was afraid] and excused himself
from the task. And when he considered his own feebleness, and the greatness of the matter
concerned, and the strenuousness and readiness of the young man, and the many other
reasons which he called to mind, he was ashamed to reveal to the young man the true reason
for his refusal, yet nevertheless, because of it, he said that he was unable to act [for
him]; but the young man dismissed his objections and made an end of them, and he shewed
[him] that they all were insufficient to drive him away from the old man, and to do away
the fervent desire and aim which were in his mind. Then the old man felt compelled to make
plainly manifest before him the true reason for his refusal and to shew him that it was
not a mere matter of a report of words, but one which could be seen by the actual sight of
the eyes.

6 And wishing to fulfil his intention [of shewing] that the true reason was not a mere
excuse, or one which was fabricated like those which he had previously given, and that it
was indeed a true one, and one which would proclaim concerning itself openly, he took the
young man by the hand, and led him into a certain chamber wherein dwelt the wife of that
old man with her two children, and he said unto him, "God hath sent thee hither" for my
shame, and for the condemnation of mine old age. "Behold, this is my wife whom Satan and
not God hath given" unto me, and behold, these are the children of shame whom "I have had
by her, and they are the fruits of a contemptible" and damnable union." 7 Now when the
young man saw and heard these things, because the foundation of his building was laid upon
the rock of truth, he was neither moved nor disturbed, and he was not offended with the
old man, and he did not hold him in any contempt whatsoever. And after these things the
young man answered and said unto the old man, "My lord, I entreat thy holiness to confirm
that" which I am about to say unto thee. Let me have with thee, even "as with a real
father, a wholly perfect understanding, such as" it is right for children to have with
their fathers and with their "brethren, which shall be free, by the help of God, from all"
stumbling-blocks; and let me have the same understanding "with this woman, as with a real
mother, and with thy children" as with beloved brethren." Thus the old man was overcome by
means of all these words by a gracious defeat, and though he wished by the urging of his
own mind to give the young man permission to live with him as a disciple, and to fulfil
his desire according to the bent of his mind, he was driven thereto far more by the power
of the excellence of the young man himself. And when these things had taken place they
gave thanks to God, and then they occupied themselves, each one with the service and work
which were requisite for their habitation, day by day with the help of God, and the young
man excelled in works towards the old man, according to his promise, in humility, and in
great obedience, and the spiritual excellence of his mind was greatly revealed.

8 One day the old man said unto the young man, "My son, knowest thou that thou and I are
building this house with weariness" and abundant toil, and that we have not sufficient
reeds [to" make] the roof, and that the winter hath drawn nigh? Now,"in order that our
labour may not be in vain, behold, I see that"there are reeds in the habitation of the
monk who is ourneighbour, and since he is not there that we may borrow from him,"and
supply our need, do thou go down and take up from there"a bundle, and bring [it hither],
so that we may finish the roof,"and may rejoice through his forethought. And when the
brother heard this, he made ready quickly to fulfil the command of the old man, and having
gone down and brought that which was necessary for them, they completed their work. Then
the old man said unto that brother, "Tell me truly, O brother, what didst thou think in
thy mind about that which I said unto thee, that is to say, that thou shouldst go down,
and shouldst bring reeds as it were by theft, and without the knowledge and during the
absence of their owner? And that brother said [unto him], "As I have already told thee,
everything that thou shalt say unto me I shall receive as if it came from the mouth of
Christ, and shall perform it in faith unhesitatingly.

9 I said within myself, 'Christ said unto me, Thou shalt not steal, but now it is He Who
hath just said unto me, Steal; I have nothing to do with the matter, and it is Christ unto
Whom I must render obedience.'" And when the old man had heard these words he marvelled at
the wisdom and at the integrity of his obedience; and wishing to make him to rejoice in
his hope, he said unto him, "My son, thou must know that I had made up my mind that we
must tell the owner of the reeds [what I had done], and must give him whatever price he
might require, [when] I sent thee down to bring up that which belonged to him, and I did
not do so with the abominable intention of stealing [from him]." 10 And after a certain
time, during which the two men had lived together a correct life which was full of peace
and profit, the old man thought within himself, saying, "It is a great iniquity on my
part, and it meriteth a severe penalty, that I who have grown old in sins, and who am
still in the mire of fornication, should dwell with this brother who is perfect in
spiritual excellence; for it is not seemly that darkness should live with light. But I
will leave this abode in his hands, and I will take away this stumbling-block which Satan
hath set in my way, and these fruits of shame which have come to me from her, and I will
go to the world and unto those whom I resemble, whose works are like unto mine own."

11 And when he had meditated with these and suchlike thoughts, and had made them known
unto the woman who dwelt with him, he sent to the village which was nigh unto them, and
brought from thence an animal to take away that which he needed from the monastery, so
that he might lead away his wife and his children, and he might go and live in one of the
villages round about them. And when the animal had come, and the old man had loaded him
with whatsoever they needed, and he, and his wife, and his children began to go forth, he
said unto that brother, "My son, we are not able to dwell in a monastery because our sins
are many, and because we are not worthy so to do; for it is great wickedness for us to
dwell under the cloak of falsehood among monks, whilst our deeds are more evil than those
of the folk who are in the world. But do thou remain in this dwelling, O my son, and the
God Whom thou hast loved, and Whom thou hast made plans to please in everything, shall be
unto thee a father, and a fellow monk; and do thou pray on my behalf that the Lord may
visit me." And when that brother had heard these words, he answered and said unto the old
man with love and great humility, "O my father, I have made a covenant with the Lord that
I will not be separated from thee except by death, and inasmuch as my dwelling with thee
hath been unto me source of great benefit, there is nothing which can remove me and take
me away from thee; but wheresoever thou goest I will go; and wheresoever thou dwellest I
will dwell with thee."

12 Then after all these things the old man came to himself, and he sighed greatly, saying,
"Verily, this is a matter which can only have come from God, the Merciful, Who desireth
not the death of a sinner, but that he may turn to Him and live, and He it is Who hath
remembered my former works, and hath not left me to perish utterly, but hath sent this
young man unto me that He might again turn me unto Him. Then the old man found himself
able by means of words, which were full of strong entreaty, to persuade the woman to take
her daughter with her, and to go and dwell in one of the abodes of women which existed in
the villages round about them. And this actually came to pass. And after the old man had
remained there with his son, and with that excellent disciple, he began to remember his
former life, and to renew the habits thereof, and he excelled greatly in the cultivation
of all kinds of spiritual excellences, and he gave thanks unto God unceasingly, that by
means of the young man He had held him worthy of the end of peace. And he was always
saying, "Truly obedience for the sake of God not only greatly helpeth those who possess
it, but it greatly gratifieth God also, and it is found by others to be the cause of life,
and it tormenteth Satan sorely; on the other hand, disobedience worketh that which is
contrary to all these things.

13 So after a long time that old man died in peace, being worthy of the great measure [of
reward] of his fathers, and he departed from the world, and left behind him as upright
heirs of his spiritual excellences and of his monastery his spiritual son, and the son who
was his according to the body and the spirit; may our Lord through their prayers make us
worthy of their spiritual excellence and their inheritance! Amen and Amen.

CHAPTER 4. THE TRIUMPH OF A CERTAIN OLD MAN WHO WAS IN SCETE

1 There was a certain old man who used to live in the desert which is called Scete, and he
had a disciple who lived with him; now this [latter] brother was adorned with the
spiritual excellences of every kind which befit those who are in subjection to old men,
and he was exceedingly conspicuous for his obedience, which was the greatest of all his
virtues. And he was sent to the village continually by the old man to sell their work, and
to bring back whatsoever was needed for their habitation, and that brother, without any
compulsion whatsoever, performed every command which the old man gave him with zeal and
diligence. Now when the enemy of righteousness, the Foe of the human race, and especially
of the orders of the monks, that is to say, Satan, the opponent of all virtues and the
hater of the upright life of the children of men, saw that this brother was overcoming and
bringing to naught all his crafty designs by the might of his simple obedience, which was
full of discretion, he made a plan to lay two snares for him in the path of his spiritual
excellence, even as it is said concerning him in the Psalm, as it were by the mouth of
those who cultivate spiritual excellence, and who walk in the way of righteousness, "In
the way of my steps have they hidden snares for me" (Psalm cxlii, 3).

2 Now the two snares were these:—The first consisted in making that brother to pursue
fornication, and the second was in making him to fall into disobedience; and the Enemy, in
his cunning, expected that the brother would not only be caught by one of these, and so
become involved in both, but also that deliverance from the one would be found to be the
occasion for his falling into the other, for he saw that he was being sent continually to
Egypt by his master [on the business] of the work of their hands and of the matter of
their need. 3 And one day, when that brother was carrying on his shoulders something which
he wished to sell, and was going about in the market of the village according to his wont,
it happened that owing to the sight of a woman, who was a virgin, and who was continually
coming in his way, and who bought from him some of the wares which he carried, the war of
fornication rose up against him suddenly by the operation of the Evil One. Now when this
thing had thus come to pass the evil cunning of the Devil did not depart from that
discreet brother, but he meditated within himself and said, "Both matters are exceedingly
difficult for me. Peradventure, if through some reason such as this which the Enemy hath
prepared for me, I reject 209 the command of the old man, and do not go up [to him], I
shall always be in the habit [of thinking] that I have treated the command of the old man
with contempt; and if I do go up [to him] I shall be oppressed for a very long time with
the war of fornication."

4 And when that brother had passed much time in tribulation, and in such thoughts as
these, and in doubts of mind, and still did not know which course of action to choose and
which to reject, he drew nigh unto a certain old man who dwelt close by them, and who was
great and skilled in all [such matters], and made known his business unto him, and spake
unto him thus: "Father, what shall I do, for the war of fornication hath risen up against
me? My father sendeth me always to the village for that which we need, and every time I go
to the village I am vexed with thoughts about fornication, through which I am thrown into
a strife, and I know not what to do; if I obey my father, and go to the village, the war
which is stirred up against me will become fiercer, and if I remain here and do not go I
shall be a disobedient [disciple]. I beseech thee to give me the advice which shall be
beneficial for me, and pray thou on my behalf, for I am greatly vexed. And when the old
man had heard these words, he answered and said unto him, "My son, if I were thou, I
should, with God's help, obey my father, [and should overcome the war of fornication].
Then that brother said unto him, "I beseech thee, O my lord, to perform an act of grace,
and teach thou me the object of this conquest, and help me with thy prayers.

5 Then the old man said unto him, "Know, O my brother, that Satan is not so anxious to
cast thee into fornication as he is to dismiss thee from obedience, and to make thee
disobedient and rebellious, and he plotteth always with exceedingly great care to make
thee thus; for Satan himself hath been acquainted with disobedience from the beginning,
and he knoweth that it is the cause of every kind of condemnation and of wickedness to
those who possess it. And, O my son, let it be certain to thee that, if he vanquish thee
by means of it, thou wilt be, as it were, stripped henceforth of the help of the power of
obedience, and of thy father's prayers, whensoever he casteth thee into the passion of
fornication, and he will be able to drag thee down into passions of all kinds easily. But
if thou dost vanquish him first of all in the matter of obedience, and dost thyself abide
therein undoubtedly, and dost believe in the prayers of thy father, God will make thee to
prosper in every strife with a crown of righteousness, and He will give thee victory in
every war with the Calumniator. For he, who for the sake of God acteth in obedience to his
father, also acteth obediently unto God ; now obedience unto God is the victory over all
passions. Go therefore, O my son, and obey thy father faithfully and unhesitatingly, and
when the war cometh upon thee say thus: O God of my father, help me!"

6 Now when the Adversary saw that that brother was armed with the wise and powerful words
of the old man as with an impregnable coat of mail, and had prepared himself strenuously
for the contest, he changed the method of attack which he had formerly employed, and
instead of vexing that brother with thoughts about the woman as he had done at first, he
left him, since he was prepared and was sufficiently strong to stand up against him, and
went to the feeble woman who lacked both discernment and help—for it hath been his custom
always to run to the weak and sluggish side of disciples, and to overcome the strenuous by
means of it—and as he overcame Adam by means of Eve, and as he overcame other [saints] by
means of other things, even so did he act towards this marvellous brother who, through
this cunning, gained condemnation and shame, even as did Job, and Joseph, and others.

7 Now therefore when this brother according to custom had taken his work, and had readily
gone up to Egypt, and had arrived at the village wherein he was wont to sell it, Satan
stirred up that woman to go forth to meet him as it were by chance, and having seen that
brother and being inflamed through the operation of Satan with the fire of love for him,
she drew nigh unto him by means of some crafty device, and took him and brought him into
her house, with the excuse that she was going to buy something from him; and after they
had gone in, and she had shut the door upon them, she began to throw herself upon him.
Then that brother, with faith wherein there was no doubt, cried out with a loud voice and
said, "O God of my father, help me!" And immediately, by the agency of God, he found
himself upon the road to Scete, and by the Divine help the Calumniator was put to shame,
and the war of fornication ceased from that brother. And when he had come to the old man
with whom he lived, and he had narrated to him the whole matter and what had happened,
they gave thanks to God and glorified Him Who had hearkened unto the voice of His servants
and had redeemed them out of the hand of their enemies, and had saved them from the snares
of the Calumniator. May our Lord hide us beneath the wings of His mercifulness and [save]
us from all the evil workings of the Calumniator! Amen.

8 211 14a

CHAPTER 5. THE TRIUMPH OF THE DISCIPLE OF ANOTHER OLD MAN WHO DWELT ALONE IN A CELL

1 One of the aged men said: I have heard from certain holy men that there have been youths
who have led and guided old men to life, and they told me the following story: There was a
certain old man who used to plait mats of palm leaves by day and sell them in the village
[in the night], and get drunk on the money which he received for the same. At length there
came a certain brother who took up his abode with him, and he also worked at the plaiting
of mats by day, and the old man took his work also and sold it, and got drunk with the
money which he received for the work of both, and he would bring home at eventide a little
bread for that brother; and though the old man did thus for a period of three years the
brother said nothing to him about it. And after these things the brother said within
himself, "Behold, I am naked, and I only eat my bread by forcing myself to do so; I will
therefore arise and depart from this place. But again he thought within himself, saying,
"Whither have I to go? I will stay here a little longer, for I can live unto God just as
well as if I were in a monastery where many monks are. And straightway the angel of the
Lord appeared and said unto him, "Depart thou not unto any [other] place, for to-morrow we
are coming unto thee.

2 Then that brother made supplication unto the old man and entreated him, saying, "I
beseech thee, O my father, not to go forth this day to any place whatsoever, for the
angels are coming to receive my soul. When now the hour had arrived for the old man to go
out and sell [the work] according to his wont, he said unto the brother, "My son, they
will not come to-day, for they have delayed too long"; but the brother said, "Yea, my
father, indeed they will come"; and whilst he was talking to the old man he died. And when
the old man saw what had happened he wept and sighed deeply, and said, "Woe is me! Woe is
me, O my son! I have lived in faith for many years, but thou hast gained life for thyself
through a short period of patient endurance! and from that day forward the old man led a
life of sobriety and became a chosen monk.

CHAPTER 6. THE TRIUMPH OF THE DISCIPLE OF AN OLD MAN IN THE DESERT

1 There was a certain desert monk who was very anxious to find a quiet place which would
be suitable for him to dwell in; and there was there a certain old man who had a cell nigh
unto him, and he entreated him, saying, Come, take up thine abode here until thou canst
find a cell "[suitable for thee,]" and he went [there]. Now the brethren used to come unto
him as unto a stranger, and they brought him food in order that they might be helped [by
so doing], and he rejoiced in them and gave them relief. Then the old man began to envy
him, and to heap abuse on him, saying, "Behold, how many are the years wherein I have
lived here in the strictest abstinence, and yet no man came unto me; yet unto this
deceiver who hath only passed a few days here many come!" And this old man said unto his
disciple, "Go and say unto him, 'Depart from that place, for I have need both of the place
and of the cell.'" And his disciple went and said unto him, "My father, speak some words
and pray thou for me because I am greatly vexed by my stomach"; then he came to his master
and said unto him, "He said unto me, 'I see a cell and I am going forth.'"

2 And after two days the old man sent his disciple unto him again, and he said unto him,
"If thou hast not departed I will come myself and drive thee out with a stick. And the
disciple came to the monk and said unto him, "My father hath heard that thou art sick and
he is greatly grieved, and he hath sent me to visit thee"; and the monk said unto him,
"Through thy prayers [all is] well. And the disciple came and said to his master, "I have
spoken to him, and he said unto me, 'Wait until the first day of the week, and I will, by
the Will of God, go forth.'" And when the first day of the week had come the monk had not
departed, and the old man took a stick and was going forth to beat him, and to drive him
out; but his disciple said unto him, "Let me go first, lest there be there some stranger
who will be offended at thine act. And having gone before his master the disciple said
unto the monk, "Behold, my father hath come to entreat thee [to leave] and to take thee to
his cell"; and when the monk heard of the old man's love he made haste to go out to meet
him, and he expressed his sorrow afar off, and said, "Be not vexed, O my lord and father,
for I was coming to thy holiness; forgive me for the sake of Jesus.

3 And God saw the work of that disciple, and He opened the mind of the old man, and he
threw away his stick and ran to salute the monk; and having drawn nigh unto him he gave
him the salutation of peace, and took him into his cell. Now the stranger had heard
nothing whatsoever of the words which had been said by the old man. Then the old man said
unto his disciple, "Peradventure thou didst say unto the monk that which I said unto thee?
And the disciple said unto him, "Nay, father, I did not"; and the old man rejoiced
greatly, and he brought him in to the stranger and treated him kindly. And the old man
knew that what had taken place in him had been caused by the working of Satan, and he fell
down before his disciple and said, "Henceforward thou shalt be my father, and I will be
thy disciple, for through thy good works, after God, thou hast helped the souls of two
[men]."

CHAPTER 7. THE TRIUMPH OF PETER, THE DISCIPLE OF ONE OF THE OLD MEN

There was a certain old man who had an excellent disciple, and on a certain occasion the
old man by reason of his hasty temper drove him away, and turned him outside the door, and
his apparel with him; and the brother sat down outside the door and waited patiently, and
when the old man opened the door he found him sitting outside. Then the old man repented,
saying, "O Peter, the meekness of thy longsuffering nature hath vanquished my hasty
temper; henceforward thou shalt be my old man and father, and I will be thy servant and
disciple. By thy good work thou hast made (or fashioned) mine old age."

CHAPTER 8. THE TRIUMPH OF A DISCIPLE OF ONE OF THE OLD MEN

On a certain occasion the disciple of a great sage (i.e., old man) had a war of
fornication, and when the old man saw that his brother was vexed and oppressed in his
mind, he said to him, "Dost thou wish me to entreat God to make the war less fierce?" And
the brother said, "Father, I perceive that, although I toil and am afflicted, I am yet
able to see the fruit which I possess within my soul through this strife, [therefore pray
not for this thing]; but entreat God especially in thy prayer to give me strength to
endure." His father said unto him, "This day I know that thou hast surpassed me therein."

CHAPTER 9. OF AURELIUS [ADOLIUS?]

1 I USED to know a man in Jerusalem whose name was Aurelius [Adolius?], and by race (or
origin) he came from the city of Tarsus, and when this man arrived in Jerusalem, he walked
wholly in the path wherein are no stumblings and wherein not many have walked. Now he laid
down for himself ascetic rules of life of new kinds, and [these were so severe] that the
devils were afraid of him, and they were unable to stand up before him, and by reason of
the greatness of his toil he might have been thought to be a shadow, for he would pass the
whole weeks of the Forty Days in fasting, and he would spend the other days in constant
vigils. Now the greatest of all his acts of asceticism was this. Whilst the brethren were
gathered together each evening in the house of prayer, he would go up to the highest peak
of the Mount of Olives, to the place where our Lord was lifted up, and as he stood there
upon his feet he would recite the whole Office, and whether rain, or snow, or sleet fell
he would never leave his place; and when he had finished the Office according to [his]
custom, he would take a hammer and beat [a board], and rouse up those that slept, and
having gone round to the doors of all [the monks] he would gather them together to the
places for prayer, and in each place he would recite the Office with them;

2 and he would also stand up in the midst of companies [of monks], and would recite the
Office. In the daytime he would go to his cell, and in very truth on several occasions his
brethren had to strip off [his clothes] from him because they were wet through, and to put
others on him; and he would rest until the third hour of the day, and then he would come
to the service [in the church and stay] until the evening. Such was the manner in which
Aurelius lived, and in this way he brought his life to an end; and he was buried at
Jerusalem.

CHAPTER 10. OF ABBA MOSES THE INDIAN, [A CAPTAIN] OF THIEVES

1 Now there was a certain man whose name was Moses, who was by race an Indian (i.e., an
Ethiopian), and his flesh (i.e., skin) was black, and he was the slave of a man in high
authority, and because of his evil deeds and thefts his master drove him out of his house;
now it is said that he even went so far as [to commit] murder. Now I am compelled to
mention his wickedness in order that I may shew forth the beauty of his repentance, and
people say concerning him that he was even the captain of a band of seventy thieves. And
the following thing used to be related about him, and he is said to have committed it
during the period wherein he passed his time in stealing. 2 He had as an enemy a certain
shepherd, against whom he remembered certain evil things, and he went to steal [sheep]
from his flock. And the shepherd was told by a certain man [who said], "Moses hath crossed
the Nile by swimming, and he holdeth a sword in his hand, and his clothes are placed on
his head; and he hath crossed the river by swimming"; and the shepherd covered himself
over with sand, and hid from him. And when Moses had come and did not find the shepherd,
he chose out two fine rams from among the sheep and slew them, and he tied them [together]
with a rope, and swam across the river again [with them]; and having come to a small
village he skinned the rams and ate the best portions of them, and he sold the remainder
for wine, and drank, and after these things he went back to his companions. One day,
whilst he was associated with them in doing hateful things, his senses came back to him in
the morning season, and he repented of his evil acts, and he rose up and fled to a
monastery, and from that time he drew nigh unto works of repentance so closely that the
devil who had made him sin from his youth up, and [who would have continued] to make him
sin, would stand before him in visible form and would look upon him. Thus he came to the
knowledge of our Lord Christ.

3 And about him they tell the story that thieves once came unto him and went into his
cell, because they did not know who he was, and he tied them all together with cords and
lifted them up on his shoulders like a bag of chopped straw, and brought them to the
church to the brethren, and said unto them, "Since I have not the power to do evil unto
any man, what do ye command me to do to those who rose up against me to slay me?" Now at
that time Moses had been fasting for seven days, and he had eaten nothing. And after he
had done this he informed the thieves, saying, "I indeed am Moses who was formerly the
captain of [a band of] thieves"; and having heard [this] they praised and glorified God,
and when they saw [the sincerity of] his repentance they also removed themselves from
their evil deeds, and said within themselves, "Let us also draw nigh unto repentance, so
that we may become worthy of the forgiveness of sins, even as he also is worthy."

4 And whilst fasting often, and during the time of prayer and silent contemplation, that
devil of error, who bringeth back to the remembrance of the mind the wickedness of former
habits, would come to him, and tempt him to such a degree that, even as he himself hath
told us, it wanted exceedingly little to make him fall from his covenant. And having come
to the old man Isidore the great, who had arrived from Scete, Moses told him concerning
the war of his body; and the old man said unto him, "Be not distressed, for these are the
beginning of the birth pangs, and they come upon thee seeking what they are accustomed [to
receive], even as a dog which [cometh] continually to the cook, and if a man give him
nothing he will not go there again. And thus also it is with thee, for if thou wilt
continue in fasting, and in prayer, and in silent contemplation, the devil will
straightway fall into despair and will flee from thee."

5 And from that time he was exceedingly constant in his work of spiritual excellence. He
ate nothing whatsoever except ten ounces of dry bread [daily] when he was doing work, and
he would recite from beginning to end fifty prayers during the day; but the more he dried
up his body, the more he was vexed and consumed by dreams. And again he went to one of the
old men, and said unto him, "What shall I do? For thoughts of 'lust which arise from [my]
former habits attack me; and the old man said unto him, "These lead thee into error
because thou hast not turned away thy heart from the similitudes of them, but give thy
heart to watching and careful prayer, and thou wilt be free from them. Now when he had
heard this direction he went to his cell, and made a covenant with God that he would
neither sleep during the whole night nor bend his knees, and he dwelt in his cell for
seven years, and remained standing the whole of each night with his eyes open, and he
never closed his eyelids. And after this he set himself other ascetic labours, for he
would go out during the nights and visit the cells of the old men, and take their water-
skins and fill them with water, because they lived a long way from the water, that is to
say, some two miles, some four miles, and others five miles.

6 One night he went to fill the [water skins with] water, according to his wont, and as
soon as he had bent down over the spring, a devil smote him a blow across his loins as
with a stick, and then departed leaving him half dead, and Moses understood who had done
this thing to him. And on the following day one of the brethren came to fill [the water
skins with] water, and he saw the blessed man lying there, and he drew nigh to him and
asked him, "What hath happened unto thee? And when Moses had told him the story, the
brother went and informed Rabbâ Isidore, the priest of the church of Scete, who sent
brethren immediately and they took him up and brought him to the church; and he was ill
for a long time, and he never thoroughly recovered from his illness, and he never again
enjoyed the health of body which he had possessed formerly.

7 And Abbâ Isidore said unto him, "Rest thyself, O Moses, 'and fret not thyself against
the devils, and seek not to make attacks upon them; there is moderation in everything,
even in the works of ascetic life." Then Moses said unto him, "I believe in God, in Whom I
have placed my hope, that being armed against the devils I must not cease [to wage war
with them] until they depart from me." And Abbâ Isidore said unto him, "In the Name of
Jesus Christ, from this time forward the devils shall cease from thee. Draw nigh then, and
participate in the Holy Mysteries, and thou shalt be free from all impurity both of the
flesh and of the spirit, for thou must not boast within thyself, and say, 'I have overcome
the devils,' for it was for thy benefit that they have waxed strong against thee." So
Moses went back again to his cell. And after two months Abbâ Isidore came to him, and
asked him [concerning himself], and Moses said unto him, "I never see now anything which
is hateful to me." Now he was also held to be worthy of the gift of Divine Grace, and he
could chase away the devils from many folk who were vexed therewith, and as flies take to
flight before us so did the devils depart from before him. Such were the ascetic labours
of the blessed man Moses, who was himself vexed with great matters. And he also became a
priest, and he left behind him seventy disciples who were men of worth. When he was a
thief he had [as followers] seventy men who were thieves, and these now became his
disciples, and they were perfect in the fear of God.

CHAPTER 11. OF ABBA PIOR

1 And there was an Egyptian youth whose name was Pîôr, and he was a holy man; and when he
departed from the house of his parents he made a covenant with God with the zeal of
excellence that he would never see again any of his kinsfolk. And after fifty years had
passed, the sister of this blessed man, who was very old and grey, heard that he was
alive, and she greatly desired to see him; now she was unable to come to him to the
desert, and she besought the Bishop, who was in that country, to write to the fathers who
lived in the desert [telling] them to urge him, and to send him to see his sister. Then
when the blessed man saw the pressure which came from them to make him go, he took with
him certain of the brethren, and set out to go on the journey, and [having arrived] he
sent and informed his sister's household, saying, "Behold, Pîôr thy brother hath come, and
he standeth outside." Now when his sister heard his voice, she went forth in great haste,
and when Pîôr heard the sound of the door, and knew that the aged woman his sister was
coming forth to see him, he shut his eyes tightly, and said, "So and so, I am thy brother;
look at me as far as thou canst do so"; and having seen him she was relieved (or
gratified) in her mind, and gave thanks unto God, but she was unable to persuade him to
enter into her house. And he made a prayer by the side of the door with his eyes closed
tightly, and departed to the desert.

2 And he also wrought the following wonderful thing: In the place where he lived he dug a
hole in the ground, and found water which was bitter [in taste], but until the day wherein
he died he endured the bitter taste of the water, in order that he might make known that
which he suffered patiently for the sake of God. Now after his death many of the monks
wished to abide in that place, but they were not able to do so, even for one year, chiefly
because of the terrible nature of the country and the barrenness thereof.

CHAPTER 12. OF ABBA MOSES THE LIBYAN

There was also another old man whose name was Moses, who came from the country of the
Libyans; he was exceedingly meek and compassionate, and through this was held to be worthy
of the gift of healing. And this old man himself related unto us the following story, and
said: When I was a young man and dwelt in the monastery, we dug out a large cistern which
was twenty cubits wide, and eighty men were digging it out, and we set seventy men to
build [walls round it]; and they dug down according to their knowledge, and they passed
the place where they expected [to find water], and went down even one cubit more, but they
did not find water, and being greatly distressed at this we wished to abandon the well and
go away. But when Abbâ Piôr came from the desert at the season of noon, now he was an old
man and was covered in his head-cloak, he saluted us, and said unto us, "Why hath your
spirit lessened, O ye of little faith?" "For I observe that your spirit hath diminished
since yesterday" "because ye have not found water." Then he went down by a ladder to the
bottom of the well, and made a prayer with the men, and having prayed he took up an iron
tool and drove it into the earth three times, saying, "O Lord God of the holy Fathers,
make not the weariness [of these men] to be in vain, but send them water in abundance";
and straightway the waters sprang up in such quantity that they all were wetted, and
having prayed a second time he went forth and departed. And when they urged him to remain
with them and eat he would not be persuaded to do so, but said unto them, "The matter
concerning which I was sent hath come to pass, and to eat I was not sent."

CHAPTER 13. OF A CERTAIN DISTINGUISHED WANDERING MONK

1 The copyist adds the note: "We have found [the story of] this wandering monk and recluse
following [that of] the recluse John of Lycus." There was a certain distinguished
wandering monk who (as have heard from the famous monks who dwelt by the side of the
country of Antinoë) lived a life of great sanctity in the mountains, and many folks were
helped by him both by word and deed. And the Enemy had envy of him, even as he hath of
every [good] man, and he cast into his mind thoughts which appeared to be humble, saying,
"It is not seemly for thee to be ministered unto and treated with honour by others, for
thou shouldst minister unto thyself. Go therefore to the city and sell thy plaited baskets
thyself, and buy whatsoever thou hast need of, and lay no burden upon any man." Now the
crafty one counselled him in this wise because he was envious of the assistance which [he
obtained from the silent contemplation and constant [prayer], and because he kept God in
his mind, and he was laying nets for him, and was trying to snare him by every means in
his power. And the monk, being convinced as it were by [a counsellor of] good, for he was
not greatly skilled [in the knowledge] of the cunning and of the abundant wickedness of
him that was lurking in ambush, went down from the mountain, and the brethren marvelled,
because he was a wandering monk, who was well known and famous; and thus in a short time,
through want of care and also through converse with women, he was caught in the toils and
fell.

2 And he came to the river [Nile] in a desolate place (now there was with him the Enemy
who had cast him down and who rejoiced because of his fall, and because many folk would be
made to offend through hearing thereof); and because he had greatly grieved the Spirit of
God, and the Angels, and the holy Fathers of the same class as himself, having become
unlike any of those who in the cities and everywhere else had overcome [Satan]; and
because he had forgotten that great might was nigh unto him [that fighteth] against the
Enemy, and who truly hath his hope in the Lord, because, I say, he forgot that this help
existed, he fell into error, and knew not how he was to be healed, and wished to throw
himself into the river flood and die. And moreover, although his body was brought
exceedingly low, through the suffering of his soul, it would have been in vain had not at
length the mercy of God helped him not to die (which would have afforded perfect joy to
the Enemy), [and it urged him] to depart again with weeping and bitter suffering of heart,
and, as was meet, to make supplication to the compassion of God. And thus, having returned
to his place and blocked up the window of his cell, he wept, as was right, after the
manner of one who weepeth in a suitable manner over a dead person, and he reduced his body
to emaciation by means of his fasting, and vigil, and grief, for the expectation of his
repentance had not as yet come to him.

3 And on several occasions, when the brethren came to comfort him, and knocked at his
door, because he had no excuse to make he would say, "Pray ye for me, O my brethren, for I
have made a covenant to live a life of silent contemplation all my days, having everything
of which I have need. Then they would go away having no hope whatsoever for him; now he
was a monk who was very precious in their sight. And from Pentecost, when the brethren
were in the habit of relaxing their severe rules of life, and when they ate freely—now
because of his fall that monk did not act thus—onwards, throughout the whole year until
the feast of unleavened bread, he prayed with tears, and he vexed sorely the life of his
flesh, and was crucified with Christ. But on the eve of the [day of] the Resurrection, at
the rejoicing of the holy First Day of the week, he took a new lamp, and trimmed it ready
for lighting, and he set it in a new vessel likewise, and covered it over, and being
unable to stand up in prayer, he said, "O Thou Merciful One, Who desirest that the
Barbarians and all the people who are without God should have knowledge of Thee, and
should turn to Thee, and Who alone art the true Physician of souls, have mercy upon me,
for I know that I have made Thee wroth not a little.

4 I have obeyed the Enemy even to my death and, behold, I am a dead man. O Thou Who didst
teach the children of men who were not merciful to shew mercy to each other, O have mercy
upon me! For unto Thee nothing is impossible, even though I be brought down as as low as
the dust in Sheol. But Thou art the Lord of Thy hosts, and Thou art He Who is good unto
those whom Thou hast fashioned, and Thou art He who shall raise up the dead bodies [of
those who] have no being, and Who shall make them to have being in the Day of
Resurrection; answer Thou me because my heart and my body are sick, for I am overcome by
the fear of Thee and am ready to perish, and I cannot live any longer. And, because as yet
I have no confidence in [my] repentance, a twofold destruction have I in my despair. Show
compassion upon me, O Merciful One, and kindle this lamp by Thy light, so that I by means
thereof may receive the encouragement of Thy mercy, and may pass the remainder of my life
which Thou wilt bestow upon me in the way which shall please Thee, and may never again as
long as I live be unmindful of the fear of Thy Commandments."

5 And he said these things with tears on his face, and he rose up to see if the lamp had
been lighted, and he uncovered it, and saw that there was no light in it. Then he fell
upon his face as he had done before, and he besought the Lord frequently, saying, "O Lord,
Thou knowest that the strife hath taken place and that it is ended, and Thou wilt not
require especially that I should be disgraced by crying out with the wicked, and that I
should suffer torture for ever. Have mercy then upon me, and I will confess Thy goodness;
I have been ashamed before the righteous angels, and if it were not that it would cause
scandal, I would make my confession to the children of men. Therefore have compassion upon
me, for from this time forward I will teach others that their hearts must not be outside
Thy fear, even for a moment; and now I make supplication unto Thy goodness, O make me to
live, and I entreat Thee [so to do], for I am about to die. And the monk prayed in this
manner three times, and then he was heard by God, for when he went back the fourth time
[to see if the lamp had been lighted] he found it burning brightly;

6 and he was strengthened with hope, and rejoiced, and wept abundantly, and he marvelled
at Divine Grace, and he made prayer to the Lord about this also, saying, "Thou didst shew
compassion upon the life of this world of him that is unworthy, and especially by the
great and new sign [which Thou hast given]; yea, Lord, Thou dost always shew Thy
compassion upon the miserable soul, and dost spare it. And the monk continued [to give]
simple thanks [until] the day dawned, and he rejoiced in the Lord, and forgot the food of
the body; and he tended the light of the lamp every day, and poured oil therein, and he
trimmed it from above, and kept it covered so that it should not be extinguished. And thus
that man became like one who had risen in the resurrection of the righteous, and like the
chaste man, and like the humble man in the Spirit of God [who obeyeth] readily, and [who
giveth] gladly unto the Lord gratitude and thanks. And when he was about to yield up unto
the Lord the soul which had been graciously given to him, he related the story gladly unto
the brethren who happened to be there, that it might cause them fear, and he said, "Let
that lamp be placed in [my] grave in commemoration of [my] repentance. And we, who heard
concerning the grace of God, have written down these things in order that men may be
watchful in the Lord.

CHAPTER 14. THE HISTORY OF THE BLESSED EVAGRIUS, THE SOLITARY AND STRENUOUS MONK

1 It is not meet that we should veil the history of this holy man in silence, for we must
set it down plainly in writing, both for the help and edification of those who shall come
across it, and for the glory of that God Whose wont is to change bitterness to sweetness;
we shall, therefore, make clear the history of the blessed man from the beginning, and
tell how he journeyed step by step to the goal of spiritual excellence, and how he was
carried onwards to the ascetic life, and how he arrived at purity of heart, and how he
departed from this world at the age of fifty-four years. 2 Now this blessed man came from
Pontus, where his family lived, and where his father held the office of visitor; and the
blessed man Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, appointed him to be a reader. And after the death
of the blessed man Basil, Gregory, Bishop of Nazianzus, seeing his perspicacity, and his
great skill in the Divine Books, and that he was free from passions, and was adorned with
virtues, brought him nigh to the grade of the priesthood, and he went up to the synod
which was held at Constantinople with the blessed man Gregory, who loved him greatly. And
when the blessed man Nectarius, Bishop of Constantinople, met him, he was drawn to love
him, because he saw that he was a man of strong character, and he attached him to himself.
Now Evagrius was beloved by all men, and he was held in honour by all men, and for this
reason Satan was envious of him, and he disturbed his understanding through the vision of
his mind, which he set in a blaze through the love of a certain woman; and this woman was
the wife of one of the noblemen of the city, according to what he himself related unto us.
And when, by the will of God, he was set free from these thoughts, the woman herself began
to love Evagrius; now she was a great lady of high degree.

3 Then Evagrius, setting before his eyes the reproach of fornication, prayed unto God with
labour that, in His Grace, He might bring this matter to naught, and that he might
extinguish the mad lust of that woman; to chide her himself the blessed man was not able,
because he was bridled by the large numbers of gifts [which he had received] from her. And
his prayer having been heard, when as yet he had not had union with her sinfully, an angel
appeared unto him in the form of a soldier of the prefect, who seized him, and cast him
into prison, and who loaded his neck and his hands with chains, but who did not inform
Evagrius for what reason he had to bear this ill-treatment; and the thought sprang up in
his mind which said, "Perhaps that woman's husband has laid an accusation against me
before the judge." Then Evagrius found himself in great agony of mind, because he saw that
other men, who had been committed to prison for offences similar to his own, were
condemned to judgement before his eyes, and the angel changed his form, and appeared unto
him in the guise of one of his friends, and he began to say unto him, when he saw that he
was loaded with chains and had been placed with the malefactors, "What is this which hath
happened unto thee, O brother?"

4 And Evagrius made answer unto him, saying, "My brother, in truth I know not. I think
that perhaps some prince of the city hath laid [an accusation] against me before the
judge, because of some vain jealousy (or envy) which hath burst into flame in him, and I
am afraid lest, through a gift of much money, the judge may issue a decree of death
against me." And the angel said unto him, "If thou wilt receive the words of thy friend I
counsel thee not to remain in this city"; and the blessed Evagrius said unto him,
"Thinkest thou that thou wilt see me in this city if God will deliver me from this trial?
Thou mightest as well think that I am enduring these evils righteously!" Then the angel
said unto him, "Swear unto me that thou wilt depart [from the city], and wilt have a care
for thy soul, and I will deliver thee from these trials"; and Evagrius took an oath unto
him by the Book of the Gospel, [saying], "I will not tarry here more than the one day
which will be necessary for me to put my things in the ship."

5 And when Evagrius woke up from his sleep, he thought within himself and said, "Although
the words of the oaths have been uttered in a dream, it is right that I should fulfil that
which I have promised"; so he put his things in a ship and departed to Jerusalem, where
the blessed woman Melania received him gladly; now Melania had come from the city of Rome.
And, because Satan had made the heart of Evagrius as hard as that of Pharaoh, he failed to
call to mind that which he had promised to do, and he went back to his former habits and
returned to his pride, and was arrayed in filthy garments. But God, because He is in the
habit of bringing to naught on our behalf things of evil, kindled the fire of a great
fever in Evagrius, and He cast him into a sickness which lasted for six months, and none
of the physicians was able to bring healing unto him. Then the blessed woman Melania said
unto him, "My son, thy long illness pleaseth me not; tell me, then, concerning it, for
peradventure there is something hidden in thy mind; thy illness is not like unto that of
every [other] man." Then Evagrius confessed unto her the whole matter. And Melania said
unto him, "Promise me truthfully that from this time onward thou wilt take care of thyself
in a habitation of monks, and that thou wilt work unto God; and however great a sinner I
may be, I will pray for thee, and relief shall be given unto thy tribulation." Then he
promised [to do] that which she required at his hands, and before a few days had passed by
the blessed man was healed, and he rose up [from his bed], and from that day his whole
mind was changed.

6 And he departed and went to the mountain which is in Egypt and which is called Nethrâ
(i.e., Nitria), and dwelt there for two years, and in the third year he departed into the
inner desert, and dwelt there fourteen years in the place which is called "The Cells"; and
he lived upon one pound [of bread] a day, and a box of oil [every] three months. He had
been a man great in pomp and he had made great his body, and had been ministered unto by
slaves, yet he laid down a rule that he should pray in the course of [each] day one
hundred prayers. He lived by the labour of his hands, and he only accepted the bare price
of his daily food [for] all the work he did; and his work was to write books. Before,
however, the fifteen years had passed by, he had cleansed his heart, and was held to be
worthy of the grace of God, and wisdom and understanding were given to him, and he knew
the power of spirits. He composed three volumes, and taught us [therein] the cunning of
devils and the snares [laid by the] thoughts.

7 And the blessed man Evagrius himself related unto us that the devil of fornication
[once] made an attack upon him, and that he stood up naked the whole night long in the
desert (now it was the season of winter), until his flesh was quite shrivelled and dried
up. And the devil of blasphemy [on another occasion] made an attack upon him, and
according to what he told us, he passed forty days under the open sky in winter until his
flesh became like that of the beasts of the desert. And he also told us that once three
devils came to him in the daytime, in the form of three members of a religious body, and
they began to discuss the faith with him; one of these declared himself to be an Arian,
the second said that he was a Eunomian (i.e., a follower of Eunomius, Bishop of Cyzicus,
A.D. 360-364), and the third confessed himself to be of the sect of Apollinarius (Bishop
of Laodicea; he died about A.D. 390); but by the Divine Grace which was with him he drove
them away, having put them to shame.

8 And again he told [us] that one day he lost the key of his cell, but he made the sign of
the Cross over the door and then put in his hand and opened it, having called Christ to
his help. He was beaten with innumerable stripes by the devils, and he learned by
experience very much concerning their cunning. He made known unto one of his disciples by
prophecy that which should happen unto him after [a period of] eighteen years, and what he
said actually came to pass. And he said, "From the time when I entered the desert I have
never washed, and I have never eaten any vegetable, or any fruit, or any grapes." At the
end of his life, however, that is to say, in the sixteenth year wherein he departed from
the world, he ate compulsorily food which was cooked by fire, and he was obliged to do
this because of a weakness of the stomach which had overtaken him, and he was compelled to
take food which had been cooked because of this.

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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO (CHAPTERS 15. THE HISTORY OF MALCHUS THE SOLITARY MONK–28. OF TWO BROTHERS WHO DWELT IN A PERSIAN MONASTERY)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO continued

CHAPTER 15. THE HISTORY OF MALCHUS THE SOLITARY MONK

1 About three miles from Antioch in Syria there is a certain village which is called
Mārōniā, and in this village was an old monk whose name was Malchus, and he was a
wonderful and a holy man. Now at that time I had travelled far away from the house of my
fathers, and I went to Evagrius the priest, where I heard concerning the holy man Malchus,
and I desired greatly to see him and to be blessed by him; so I went to him, and he
received me gladly, and began to tell me about the habits of life and the works of the
monks, and how it is right to fear the Lord, and having rejoiced greatly in the pious
words of his doctrine, I besought him to confirm me especially in such things. Then he
said unto me, "My son, I will relate unto you concerning the temptations which, in
proportion to my presumption and thoughtlessness, have come upon me, in order that they
may help you, and also concerning the compassionate grace of the Lord God Who took me out
of and redeemed me from them, and Who permitted them to come upon me for the correction of
many who should learn of me, and should not become disobedient to the exhortation of their
spiritual fathers, because disobedience is the cause of death."

2 Then having said these things he began to narrate to me his history, and he said:—I was
born in the village which is called Nisibis, and I was the only child of my parents, who,
because I was the only child they ever expected to have, were proud of me; and when I had
arrived at manhood's estate they were anxious to marry me to a wife, but when I spake
against their [wish], saying, "It is right for me to become a monk and to serve the Lord,"
and they heard of it, they were exceedingly wroth with me. Now my father urged me to marry
and threatened me with penalties if I did not, and my mother was always inciting and
counselling me to do so. And seeing that their minds were most firmly set upon this, which
would become unto me an impediment to my confession of the faith before God, I forsook
them, and treated with contempt all the riches of this world, and took with me only a very
small sum of money, which was just sufficient for the expenses of my journey; now I wished
to go to the monasteries of the East. And because at that time the Greeks had determined
to make war upon the Persians, I changed my intention, and made up my mind to go to the
west; and whilst I was pondering this matter I learned that between Keneshrin and Aleppo
there was a monastery which was situated in a peaceful spot, so I gave up my former
intention, and went thither, and I asked them [to receive me], and I remained with them,
and I wrestled with all their ascetic habits and rules of chastity according to their
godly ways of life, and I made good progress therein in the Lord.

3 And having remained in that monastery for a certain number of years, and having lived
blamelessly the life of spiritual excellence, all the brethren rejoiced at the growth of
my asceticism; but because the Calumniator, that jealous and envious being, could not
endure [this], he cast into my mind thoughts [which were apparently] correct ones, saying,
"Since thy father is dead, return to thy house, and comfort thy mother so long as she is
alive, and after her death sell thy possessions, and give some of the price thereof to the
poor; and the remainder keep, and with it build a monastery, and thou thyself shalt become
a father and governor of monks. And to tell the truth to thee, my son, the Calumniator
cast within me the passion of avarice, saying, Keep some of the money for thine old age."
And when the war which was caused by these thoughts had been [waged] against me daily for
some time, I felt obliged to reveal this sickness of my soul to the spiritual father, who,
when the holy father had heard thereof, said unto me, "My son, hearken not to thy
feelings, for this is a snare of Satan who, by means of this cunning device, hath put many
monks backward in their course, even as a dog goeth back to his vomit, and hath cast them
down and hath made them lose their inheritance, and who, though continually setting before
them the hope of that which is good, hath nevertheless brought them down into Sheol. For
having raised Adam to a height of error which resembled this, he brought him down to the
bottom of Sheol; and our Lord commandeth him that hath laid his hand upon the plough not
to turn back."

4 Now when by means of such testimonies which he brought from the Holy Scriptures he was
not able to persuade me [to stay], he thereupon fell down before me and wished to swear by
the Lord that I would not forsake him. And whilst that merciful and pious father was
saying these things for my deliverance, the Enemy was placing in my heart the words, "The
father aeteth not thus because he would shew compassion on thee, but he wisheth that the
whole community of the brethren may be glorified [by thy staying here]"; and by saying
words of this kind to me, that evil adviser made me to gain a victory of wickedness, and
he made me to come forth out of the monastery. And still clinging unto me, as unto one who
was lost, the father said unto me, "My son, I see that thou art consumed by love of money;
the sheep which goeth forth from his flock without his shepherd straightway becometh a
prey unto wolves"; and when he had spoken these words unto me I left him.

5 227 6 15a Then I went from Aleppo to Edessa by the king's highway, and being afraid of
the soldiers (i.e., bands of marauding robbers), who had already taken up their abode in
the countries round about, I remained in Edessa, hoping to find company for the journey,
for so great as this was my watchful fear. And when we had gathered together a company of
men and women, [whose] names were seventy in number, and had therefore set out on the
road, suddenly a band of Arab soldiers swooped down upon us, and carried us all away; then
I called to mind the exhortation of the holy father, and I said to myself, "O my soul,
such are 'the great riches which I went forth to inherit! O wretched man that I am, such
are the promises of the Enemy, the deceiver and destroyer of souls! Inherit [thy wealth]
then, O wretched one, and make thyself happy therewith.' And as I was saying these things
to myself, one of the Arabs took me and a certain woman, and set the two of us on one
camel, and having travelled a short distance in the desert, because we were afraid lest we
should fall from the camel, we were compelled to hold tightly to each other; and not only
did this shame come upon mine unconvinceable mind, but I was also obliged to eat with her.

7 And the Arab gave us milk and camel's flesh, and he carried us to his tent, and he
commanded me to do homage to his wife and to bow down before her, and he said, 'This is
thy mistress.' Now through these things I, the chaste man and monk, was becoming
acquainted with the form of the nakedness of these people, according to the reward which
my passion of avarice merited; and the Arab ordered me to gird myself about with woollen
garments and to shepherd the sheep and this[occupation] became unto me a source of
consolation for the tribulations which surrounded me, because after a few days I was
released from the evil faces of my masters and companions. But this alone did not bring me
consolation, for I remembered that Abel, and the Patriarch Jacob and his sons, and the
holy man Moses, and king David were shepherds of sheep, and I rejoiced in the desert, and
I pastured the sheep, and prayed, and sang the Psalms which I learned in the monastery.
And I used to eat cheese made of goats' milk, and I drank milk, and I gave praise to God,
that I had obtained such a [light] penalty for my disobedience; and remembering that the
Apostle said, 'Servants, be submissive to your masters, not only to the good, but also to
the wicked' (Colossians iii, 22; Ephesians vi, 5), I took care of my master's sheep with
the utmost diligence.

8 Now in all these things I kept in mind always the envy of the Calumniator, which hateth
that which is good. 9 And when my master saw that I was acting rightly towards him, he
wished to reward me well therefore, and he wanted to marry me to that woman who had been
taken captive with me; and when I spake against his proposal, saying, "I am a monk, and I
cannot do this, besides this woman hath a husband who was taken captive with us, and who
hath passed into other ownership," his wrath went up, and he drew his sword, and he set
his gaze upon me, and would have killed me, had it not been that I ran and took hold of
his wife's hand. And having married me to the woman, he brought me into a cave with her.
When, therefore, I knew that this was indeed the captor of my soul, I cried aloud, and
wept, and said, "Woe unto me the sinner! What hath happened unto me? For having grown old
in the life of virginity, a terrible evil now cometh upon me, and I must, forsooth, become
the husband of a wife! Where now is my mother? And where are the possessions and riches of
my fathers? For because I was not persuaded to [perform] the obedience of the servants of
God, and because I separated myself [therefrom], and because I forsook the Lord I must
endure things of this kind! Now what wilt thou do, O my wretched soul? For if thou dost
conquer by patient endurance, by the Grace of God thou wilt be held worthy of help, but if
thou art lax severe punishment is laid up for thee. Fight then mightily against sin, and
turn the sword against thyself, that there may be kept for thee the testimony of chastity;
hold in contempt the fire of time, that thou mayest flee from the fire of eternity, and
conquer thou sin in the desert, that thou mayest be a persecuted and chosen witness."

10 Then I took the sword in my hands, and saluted that woman, saying, "Mayest thou remain
in peace, O wretched woman, and acquire for thyself rather a martyr than a husband, for
because I would not marry a wife I fled from and forsook my parents. Now when the woman
saw the sword which was shining in the darkness, she fell down before my feet and said
unto me, "I will make thee swear by Jesus Christ, the Lord of praise, that thou wilt not
kill thyself for my sake; and if thou wishest to do this turn the sword against me. Why
shouldst thou wish to kill thyself so that thou mayest not take me to wife? Knowest thou
that I am far more anxious than thou art to preserve my chastity unto Christ, and must
guard it not only against thee, but also against my lawful husband, for even if he were to
come I would keep myself chaste. This is what this captivity wherein I am teacheth me, for
this affliction should teach us to take refuge in the Lord. Take me then to thyself as a
companion of thy chastity, and let us love each other in spiritual love, so that when our
masters see us they may think that our intercourse is carnal. Now God, Who knoweth hearts,
recognizeth spiritual brotherhood, and we can easily persuade these people when they see
us together in this wise that we love each other.

11 Then whilst marvelling at the understanding of the woman, I received her good advice
gladly in Christ, and henceforward I loved her as a spiritual helpmeet, and as a pure and
chaste helper. I never saw her body naked, and I never approached her couch, for I was
afraid lest, having been victorious in the time of war, I might receive a severe wound
through the arrows of the Enemy in the time of peace. In this wise then our masters left
us for a long time, and they were not afraid that we were preparing to run away from them,
for it happened on several occasions, sometimes for a whole month together, that I was
alone [with the woman] in the desert. And my master used to come, and when he saw that I
was taking good care of his sheep, he would go back [to his place] rejoicing.

12 And it came to pass one day when, according to my custom, I was sitting in the desert,
that I began to meditate upon the peaceful life of the brethren who were in the monastery,
and I saw also the face of our holy father as if it had been an image; and I thought of
his perfect and abundant love for me, and how anxious he was in every way that I should
not be separated from him, and how I would not be persuaded [to stay with him] by the
Divine revelation, and how he bore witness beforehand concerning the things which would
happen to me—Whilst, then, I say, I was pondering upon these things in my mind, and was
greatly afflicted thereby, I saw an ants' nest, and I saw multitudes of these insects
working with the greatest diligence and care in their various ways, and I saw how they
were all making their way into the nest through a narrow entrance, without impeding each
other. Some of them were bringing seeds for their winter food; and others were bringing
loads which were larger than their bodies; and others were carrying on their backs those
which had been wounded; and others were expelling from the nest those which had settled
themselves inside, and they were cutting them up into small pieces, lest being drenched in
the winter they should have to return to the grass, and should die of hunger and be
destroyed;

13 and others were carrying dust, so that when the winter rains fell with violence they
might be able to block up the entrance to their nest firmly. Now this sight was in my
opinion worthy to wonder at, because everything which these small creatures did was done
in perfect order, and I spent the whole of the day in watching them, and so enjoyed some
relaxation from my afflictions, and I said, "Well did Solomon counsel us to be like these
creatures, for he [wished to] stir up our lazy and slug-gish understandings in this wise
[to perform] with a ready mind the things which befit our redemption." 14 Whilst then, I
say, I was pondering upon these things in my mind, and was greatly afflicted thereby, I
began to have sorrow concerning myself, because my lazy and sluggish mind lacked the great
sense of order and arrangement which the ants possessed, and also the faculty of not being
disturbed by thoughts of laziness, which the brethren possessed in common with the ants,
and also because the Calumniator had hunted me down like a child, and had set me in
captivity, and had hurled me into such [great] temptations. And I thought of those who
were offering their souls with all their hearts to Christ, and who were being guided on
their way in all the monasteries by submission and spiritual grace, through the righteous
redemption of our Redeemer, and who were anxious to preserve their souls blameless, and
who were labouring diligently and without any hindrance and with all their strength to do
their work, and to minister unto one another; and who were not saying about any possession
which was theirs, "It is mine," and who had everything in common; and who carried out
perfectly the manner of life, which is described in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts iv,
32), according to which no man said about any possession that it was his, and everything
was in common; and who, though possessing nothing, yet possessed everything; and who
enjoyed sufficiently that which they had for their [daily] needs, with all fear or with
all praise, and glorified Him Who richly provided them with everything.

15 And having made my heart sad and low with such thoughts for many days, I went to that
woman, who seeing how greatly my countenance was changed, entreated to be allowed to learn
the cause thereof; and having confessed to her that it was because I had remembered the
regular life of the brethren, and that I wished to escape and return to the monastery out
of which the Enemy had made me to come, she advised me and besought me to take her [with
me] and to place her also in a nunnery. And having together decided upon this plan, we
wept and entreated our Lord to help us to carry out what we had determined and to deliver
us from that wicked people. Now therefore, having firm hope in God's assistance, we took
thought for our return, and I slew two large goats which I had with me, and made their
skins into water bottles; and having loaded their flesh upon our shoulders, I took the
woman, and we departed. And we travelled the whole night long, and came to an exceedingly
great and wide river, and I blew up the water bottles, and I gave one to the woman and
kept the other myself, and we laid hold upon them with our hands, and sitting astride of
the skins we paddled with our feet, and crossed over the river. Then, seeing that we
should have to cross a desert wherein there was no water, we drank abundantly of the water
of the river, and rose up from that place and went on our way quickly; and we were turning
round continually [to look] behind us because of our horrible expectation that there would
be men pursuing us, and that even if we could escape from them we should fall [into the
hands of] wicked men like unto them.

16 Now because of our fear lest this should happen, and because of the heat of the sun, we
were obliged to travel by night, and urged by this great fear, and also by our great
anxiety, we were looking behind us ceaselessly. And after [travelling for] five days, we
turned round suddenly, and saw our master and one of his companions, riding upon camels,
and holding drawn swords in their hands, and pursuing after us; and by reason of our fear
the sun appeared to us to become dark. And whilst we were in this terrible state of
fright, and did not know where to escape, through the Providence of Christ, the Hope of
the hopeless, and the Help of the helpless, we peered about in that place and found a
frightful cave in the ground, wherein had gathered all the numerous kinds of snakes which
are found in the desert, serpents, and asps, and vipers, and scorpions, which had gone
therein because of the burning heat of the sun. Into this cave we tottered, and we hid
ourselves in a corner, on the left hand side thereof, and we said, "If our Lord help us
this cave shall be unto us a house of deliverance; but if He leave us to the sinners it
will be our grave."

17 Now when our master and his companion following in our footprints had pursued us to the
cave, they alighted from their camels, and stood by the mouth thereof, and when we saw our
master, such great fear laid hold upon us that we were unable to move our tongue to utter
a word; for owing to the greatness of our fear we were already [as] dead men, before the
sword-stroke fell upon us. And when our master stood outside the cave and called to us, we
were unable to speak to him because of our fear. And he took hold of the camels, and
commanded his companion to go in and bring us out, whilst he stood [outside] waiting for
us with his sword drawn, so that he might by means thereof quell his brutal madness. Now
when the young man had gone into the cave for a distance of five paces he stood [still],
and because he had come in from the outside, his eyes had become dazzled by the light of
the sun, and he could not see. Now we being quite near him could see him standing [there],
but because he was unable to see us he began to terrify us with [his] voice, saying, "Come
out, O ye wicked slaves who deserve death, wherefore do ye delay? Behold, your master is
outside expecting you.

18 And as he was saying these words, we saw a lioness rise up on the right hand side of
the cave, and she sprang upon him, and whilst he was yet speaking, she seized him by the
throat and strangled him forthwith, and then dragged him in and laid him on her lair, for
she had a male cub; and when we saw our enemy lying [there] before our eyes, we glorified
God with great joy. Now his master, not knowing what had happened, and thinking that the
young man had been overcome by us, and being unable to contain himself for rage, ran
forward, holding his drawn sword in his hand, and, standing at the mouth of the cave,
cried out in his wrath to the young man, saying, "Quick, 'quick, bring forth these
[slaves] to me that they may die an evil death. And whilst he was speaking, the lioness
sprang upon him suddenly, and ripped him up, and threw him headlong on the ground.

19 And we marvelled at all these unspeakable and inexplicable wonders of the Lord, and we
gave thanks to Him, and we rejoiced in the glory of Him Who in this tribulation had risen
up, and by Whose command the wild beast had destroyed our enemies. Now when the lioness
turned back and passed from one side to the other of the cave where we were, we thought
that she would destroy us, but, because of the wonderful thing which had been wrought, we
[continued] to praise the Lord, and we said, "Since the Lord hath delivered us from those
'wicked men He can, if He willeth, hand us over to the lions; but nevertheless let us
praise Him and give thanks unto Him." Now whilst we were thus thinking in our minds, the
lioness took up the cub in her mouth, and departed from the cave, and left the place to
us; but after she had gone, because of the state of fear in which we were, we remained the
whole of that day in the cave.

20 And in the morning we went forth and found the camels that were still laden with
provisions which our master had brought for himself and his slave; and we ate and drank
therefrom, and for all these things we gave thanks unto the Lord, Who had delivered us
from our enemies. And we rode upon the camels, and having crossed that desert in ten days,
we arrived at a Greek camp, and we drew nigh to the Tribune who was in command of it, and
related unto him everything which had happened unto us; then he sent us on to Sabinus, who
was at that time Duke of Mesopotamia, and he likewise learned all our affairs and took the
camels and gave us their price, and he dismissed us to depart to our country in peace. Now
before our return it happened that my spiritual father fell asleep. And the woman who had
been [my] helper, and who had given [me] excellent advice, and had counselled good
actions, I placed in an abode of virgins, and I returned to my own monastery and to my
spiritual brethren, where at the beginning the Lord directed me. And I related unto that
blessed brotherhood the story of all the things which had happened to me, and I confessed
that it was because I had not hearkened unto the admonition of that holy father that the
Lord left me so that all these trials might come upon me; and He did this for the
correction of many.

21 Now therefore, O my son, all these trials, which came upon me because of my
disobedience, and which I have narrated before thee, are [intended] for the edification
and the protection of thy soul; get thou possession of them, because, by the help of God,
patient endurance and implicit obedience will deliver a man from all temptations.
Obedience to the commandments of God is everlasting life, and the patient endurance which
is perfect produceth everlasting life in us; for "he who endureth " unto the end shall
live" (St. Matthew x, 22). These things did the old man Mark [Malchus] himself relate unto
me whilst I was a young man, and on account of the law of brotherly love I have written
them down because they befit the chaste life of holy old men, and tend to [their]
edification and admonition; do ye then relate them unto those who are young, so that they
may learn that those who have drawn nigh to the venerable estate of pure chastity, and who
have preserved the same for Christ's sake even unto the end, and who are protected by His
power, shall overcome all the temptations of the Enemy. And neither captivity, nor the
sword, nor any temptation, shall be able to overthrow those who have preserved in all
purity and holiness the temple of Christ without spot and blemish, even unto death, and
they shall become holy temples, and the Spirit of God shall dwell in them, and
notwithstanding all the words of the Calumniator, He shall bestow victory upon them, for
ever and ever. Amen.

CHAPTER 16. OF TWO OF THE FATHERS WHO WENT NAKED

1 A Bbâ Macarius, the Egyptian, once came from Scete to the mountain of Nitria to the
Offering of Abbâ Pambô, and the fathers said unto him, "Speak with the brethren, O father.
And he said, "I am not yet a monk, but I have seen monks. For once when I was sitting in
my cell at Scete my thoughts said unto me, 'Go forth, get thee gone into the desert, and
consider intently what thou wilt see there'; and I remained five years in struggling with
my thought, and trying it, lest it might be from Satan. And since the thought continued
with me, I rose up and journeyed into the inner desert, and I found there a fountain of
water with an island in the middle of it, and the beasts of the desert used to drink
therefrom, and I saw in the midst of the beasts two naked men; then fear took up its abode
in my limbs, and I thought that they were perhaps spirits. Now when they saw that I was
afraid they spoke unto me and said, 'Fear not, we also are men.' And I said unto them,
'Whence are ye? And how have ye come to this desert?' And they said unto me, 'We were once
in a large monastery, and the desire of both of us was the same, and we went forth and
came here, where we have been for forty years.

2 One of us is an Egyptian and the other is a Libyan.' And they also questioned me,
saying, 'What news is there in the world? Do the waters of the river come as usual? And is
the world flourishing?' And I said unto them, 'Yes,' and I also asked them, 'How can I
become a monk?' And they said, 'Except a man make himself to be remote from everything
which is in this world he cannot be a monk.' And I said unto them, 'I am feeble and I am
not able to do as ye do'; and they said unto me, 'If thou canst not [do as we do] sit in
thy cell, and weep for thy sins.' And I asked them, 'When it is winter are ye not frozen?
And in the season of the heat are not your bodies consumed?' And they answered me, saying,
'God in His Providence hath made us to be so that in the winter we do not freeze and in
the summer we are not burnt up.' And it was because of this that I said, 'I am not yet a
monk, but I have seen monks.' Permit me [to be silent]."

CHAPTER 17. OF A CERTAIN OLD MAN WHO WENT NAKED

And they used to speak of a certain solitary monk who went out unto the desert carrying
his apparel on his shoulder, and having gone a journey of three days, he climbed a rock,
and saw below him an old man who was grazing like the beasts, and he came down secretly
and gave chase to him. And the old man was naked, and his soul had diminished to such a
degree that he could not bear the smell of men, and he was able to remove himself from
them and to make his escape by flight. And having taken to flight that brother pursued
him, and he cried out to him and said, "I am following after thee; for God's sake wait for
me." Then the old man answered and said unto him, "And I, for God's sake also, am fleeing
from thee"; and finally, casting away from him the garment which was on his shoulder, he
pursued him with all his might. Now as soon as the old man saw that he had cast away his
garments he waited for him, and when the brother came up with him the old man said, "As
thou didst cast away from thee the things of the world I waited for thee." Then that
brother entreated him, saying, "Speak to me a word [of advice] that I may be redeemed
thereby"; and the old man said unto him, "Flee from the children of men, and keep silence,
and thou shalt live."

CHAPTER 18. OF A CERTAIN NAKED OLD MAN WHO FED WITH THE BEASTS

1 And a certain brother came to the monks who lived in that spot wherein there were twelve
wells of water, and seventy palm trees, where Moses and the people [of Israel] encamped
when they went forth from Egypt, and that brother told them the following story, saying:—I
once had it in my mind to go into the inner desert and see if there was any man living
therein, and I went a journey of four days and four nights, and found a certain cave; and
having approached it I looked inside it and saw a man sitting therein, and I knocked at
the door according to the custom of the monks, so that he might come out to me, and I
might salute him, but he never moved, for he was dead. Now I did not hesitate or draw
back, but I went in and laid my hand upon his shoulders, and he crumbled into dust and
became nothing at all; and in wonderment I came out of that place and journeyed on again
in the desert.

2 And I saw another cave by the side of which were traces of men, and I plucked up
courage, and drew nigh to it, and though I knocked no man answered me; then I went inside
and found no man, and I rose up [and came] outside, and said within myself, "The holy man
will soon come here. Now when it was the season of evening, I saw a number of beasts,
which are called "buffaloes," and the servant of God was in their midst, naked; and his
hair had been made into a covering for his shame. And when he saw me he stood up in
prayer, for he thought that I was a spirit, and he was greatly vexed by an evil spirit, as
he subsequently told me; and I understood this matter, and said unto him, "I am a man, O
holy one. Look at my footprints, and touch me, for I am flesh and blood. And after he had
prayed, and I had answered "Amen," he looked at me and took heart, and brought me into his
cave, and asked me, "Why didst thou come here? Then I said unto him, "That I might be
blessed by the servants of God have I come into this desert, and He hath not deprived me
of my desire"; and I also asked him, "How didst thou come here? and how dost thou live?

3 And he began to speak unto me thus:—I was once in a monastery, where my work was [to
weave] linen, and the thought came to me that I would leave it and dwell by myself, and
[my mind said], "Thou wilt be able to live in seclusion, and to entertain strangers with
the results of thy labour, and thy wages will be more than enough for thee"; and I agreed
with my thoughts, and I carried them into effect. So I built me an habitation, and took up
my abode therein, and men used to come to me and carry away my work. Now whilst I was
doing thus, and was giving my work for the benefit of strangers and the poor, Satan, the
Enemy, with his wonted envy cast his arrows at me, and instead of the reward of my labours
wherewith I expected to be rewarded, he flattered me by causing a certain virgin to come
to me, with the excuse that she wished to buy the labour of my hands, and I gave her that
which she wanted. And he stirred her up, moreover, and with one excuse or the other she
was always coming to me; and when she had been accustomed to come, and had acquired
freedom of speech with me, she began to come near me, and she would take hold of my hands,
and laugh, and she was so bold as to eat with me; and subsequently we conceived and
brought forth iniquity.

4 And having lived with her in this fallen condition for six months I thought in my mind
that whether it was to-day, or to-morrow, or at some future time, however far off that
time might be, I should be delivered over to everlasting torment. The man who taketh out
[of her house] the wife of another man, and seduceth her, is delivered over to the
punishment of the Law; how much greater then will be the punishment of the man who hath
seduced a woman who hath been betrothed to Christ? Then straightway I determined to come
to this desert, and leaving everything I had behind me I went forth secretly, and I came
and found this cave, and this fountain, and this palm which is in front of it, which
produceth twelve clusters of dates each year, and thus yieldeth each month that which is
sufficient for me for the whole month. Now after some time the hair of my body grew long,
and my clothes wore out, and my hair covered my bodily shame; I have now been here for
thirty years, and the air (or climate) always supplieth me in moderation with what is
necessary.

5 And I questioned him further, saying, "Was thy mind disturbed about anything during the
first years of thy life here?" And he said unto me, "I was greatly afflicted at first, and
I used to throw myself upon the ground by reason of pain in my liver, and I could not
stand up to say my prayers, but was obliged to make my supplications unto God lying on the
ground. Now whilst I was in this tribulation I saw a man who came, and stood by my side,
and said unto me, 'What is thy pain?' And at these words I gained a little strength, and I
said unto him, 'My liver troubleth me and causeth me pain'; and he said to me, 'Shew me
where the place is.' And having shewn him, he spread out his fingers and his hands, and
slit up my body as with a sword and he took my liver and shewed me the sore on it; then he
removed the pain, and having made the place whole again, he said unto me, 'Behold, thou
art healed. Serve thou Christ, thy Lord, as is meet for Him'; and I have been healed since
that, and have lived here without any pain. Then I entreated him to permit me to live in
the first cave, wherein I had seen the dead monk, and he said unto me, 'Thou art not able
to endure the attack of the devils'; and knowing that what he had said unto me was right,
I entreated him to pray for me and to dismiss me." I have narrated this story unto you, O
my brethren, so that we may be zealous in the spiritual life and its works of excellence,
and may attain to everlasting life; may our Lord in His grace and goodness make us worthy
to receive it!

CHAPTER 19. OF ANOTHER HOLY MAN

1 A certain old man, who was held worthy to be the Bishop of a city in Egypt, told the
following story (which he tried to make one think he had heard from another man, but he
himself had actually done the things which he described), and he said:—Once there came to
me the thought that I would go into the inner desert which is over against Usa (Οὖση),
that I might see if I could find therein [any] holy men who worshipped Christ, and taking
with me food and water for four days I set out on my journey; and after four days my food
came to an end, and I wondered what I should do [for more], and I plucked up courage and
committed myself to God. Then I went on for another four days, when I became so weak that
I could not stand up any longer, because through hunger and exhaustion I had no strength
in me; and I became sick in spirit and threw myself on the ground. And a certain man came
and drew his finger across my lips, and forthwith I became so strong that I thought that
neither fatigue nor hunger had ever drawn nigh me; and as soon as I perceived the strength
which had come to me I rose up again and continued my journey for four days more.

2 Then once more I became weary, and stretched out my hands to heaven, and behold, that
man who had given me strength before, drew nigh to my lips and made me strong, and I
continued my journey in the desert after this for seven days more, when I found a booth,
with a palm tree and water by the side of it; and there was standing [there] a man, the
hair of whose head was quite white, and he had made clothing for himself, and his face was
awesome [to look upon]. Now on seeing me he stood up in prayer, and when he had prayed and
I had answered "Amen," he knew that I was a man. Then he took hold of my hands and
questioned me, and said, "How didst thou come hither? Doth everything in the world still
exist? Are the Christians being persecuted? And I said unto him, "By the help of your
prayers, for in truth ye serve God, I have travelled and come into this desert; and, by
the power of Christ, the persecution of the Christians is at an end. And in turn I said
unto him, "Father, tell me how thou didst come hither. And with sighs and tears he began
to say unto me: "I was a bishop, and during the period of the persecution many sufferings
came upon me, but finally, because I could bear the tribulations no longer, I sacrificed
[unto idols].

3 And having come to my senses I recognized the wickedness which I had committed, and I
made myself come to this desert that I might die here. And I have passed forty-nine years
here in making supplication to God for my folly, and in entreating Him to forgive me the
sin which I sinned; now God gave me life from this palm tree, but I did not receive any
encouragement to hope for the forgiveness of my sins until the completion of forty-eight
years." 4 And after he had said these things to me, he rose up suddenly and went outside
the booth and stood up for many hours in prayer; and when he had finished his prayer he
came to me, and as I looked upon his face fear and wonder fell upon me, for it was a face
as of fire. And seeing that I was afraid he said unto me, "Fear not, for the Lord hath
sent thee to me that thou mayest bury my body," and as soon as he had finished speaking,
he stretched out his hands and his feet and died. Then I took the garment which I had on
me [and tore it in two], and in one half of it I rolled him up and laid him in it in the
earth, and the other half formed my apparel. Now as soon as I had buried him the palm tree
dried up, and the booth fell down. Then I made many entreaties unto God, and I prayed unto
Him to leave me the palm tree, so that I might pass the rest of my life there, but as this
did not take place, I perceived that it was not the will of God that I should remain here;
so I prayed, and returned to the habitation of the children of men. And behold, that man
who had given me strength before came again to me and gave me courage, and thus I arrived
and came to the brethren; and having related unto them these things I encouraged them not
to be in despair about their souls, but [to feel] that in patient endurance they would
find our Lord.

CHAPTER 20. OF A CERTAIN SOLITARY MONK WHO USED TO FEED ON GRASS BY THE JORDAN

A certain monk was feeding on grass by the Jordan, and at noontide he went into a cave to
rest, and he found there a lion which began to roar; and he said to the lion, "What vexeth
thee? There is room enough here both for thee and for me, and if thou dost not wish [for a
companion], get up and go out;" and because the lion could not bear [him], he rose up, and
went out.

CHAPTER 21. OF A CERTAIN HOLY VIRGIN

Once certain of the great sages of Scete were travelling along a road in the desert when
they heard a sound, like the groan of a sick person, [rise up] from the ground; and they
searched, and found a path which led into a cave, and when they had descended into it they
discovered [there] a certain holy virgin. Then they said unto her, "O mother, when didst
thou come here? And who ministereth unto thee?" For they saw nothing in the cave except
the holy woman herself who was lying on the earth. And she said unto them, "Behold, I have
passed eight and thirty years in this cave, and I have satisfied my wants with grass, for
I labour for Christ. And I have never seen a man except this day, and God hath sent you to
me this day to bury my body"; and having said these words, she died. And when the fathers
saw [this], they glorified God, and they buried her body, and prayed, and departed from
the place.

CHAPTER 22. OF THE TWO YOUNG MEN WHO WERE WITH MACARIUS

1 Abbâ Bytinius said:—The disciple of Macarius once told me the following story, and
said:—Abbâ Macarius once said to me whilst I was living in Scete:—Two young men, who are
strangers, have gone down there, and one of them hath a few hairs as a beard, and the
other hath the beginning of a beard. And these young men came and said unto me, "Where is
the cell of Abbâ Macarius? And I said unto them, "What seek ye with him? And they said,
"We have heard of his life and deeds, and we have come to see him. And I said unto them,
"I am he"; and they offered me repentance, and said unto me, "We wish to abide here. Now,
seeing that they were proud because of [their] riches, I said unto them, "Ye will not be
able to dwell here"; and the elder of them said unto me, "If we are unable to dwell here,
we will go to another place. Then I said to myself, "Why should I be an occasion of
stumbling to them, for the labour itself will make them flee? And I said unto them, "Come,
make ye a cell for yourselves if ye can"; and they replied to me, "Only shew us how to do
it, and we will do it.

2 So I gave them an axe, and a tool for digging up the ground, and a sack of bread and
salt, and I shewed them a rock wherefrom they might [hew] stone, and I said to them, "Hew
your stone from here, and then bring wood from the forest and roof over [the place], and
then take up your abode. Now I thought that they would straightway take to flight, but
they said unto me, "What is your work here? And I said unto them, "The weaving of palm
leaves," and I plucked some leaves from the palms in the grove, and shewed them how to
begin to work to plait baskets, and I said unto them, "Give them to the guar-dians, and
they will give you bread. And from that hour I left them, and everything which I had said
unto them they performed with great persistence and diligence, and they remained there for
three years and never came to me; and I continued to debate in my thoughts, saying, "What
kind of work is theirs that they never come in to me to ask me for anything? The people
that are afar off come to me, but these who are close by do not come to me, and they have
gone nowhere else, except to the church to receive the Offering when they have leisure."

3 Then I prayed to God and fasted for a whole week that He might shew me their work, and
straightway I rose up and went to them that I might see how they were; and when I had
knocked, they opened the door to me, and they saluted me, and then held their peace; and I
prayed, and sat down. Then the elder of the men motioned to the younger, who went outside,
and sat down, and he plaited ropes, and said nothing; and at the season of the ninth hour
he knocked at the door, and the younger man came and made a sign to him, and he went forth
and cooked a little food. And he made another sign to him, and he prepared a table with
three bread cakes upon it, and then stood by in silence. Then I said, "Arise, let us eat";
and they drew nigh and we ate, and one of them brought an earthenware pitcher of water,
and we drank. And when the evening had come, they spake to me, and said, "Art thou going
away? and I said, "No, I am going to pass the night here. Then they laid down a palm-leaf
mat for me on one side [of their cell], and they threw themselves down upon the bare earth
on the other side of the cell by themselves.

4 And when I had prayed to God to inform me concerning their toil, the roof was opened,
and the place became as light as it was in the daytime, but they did not see that light.
Then, thinking that I was asleep, the elder man smote the younger, and they rose up, and
girded up their loins, and spread out their hands to heaven; and I saw them, but they did
not know that I could see them. And I saw the devils hovering about over the young man
like flies, and some of them wished to settle on his eyes, and some on his mouth, and
behold, the angel of the Lord was going round him, and was driving away from him the
devils with a sword of fire; now the devils did not dare to 5 241 approach the elder man.
And about the time of morning the two men threw themselves on the ground and I made myself
to appear like one who had just woke up from sleep, and they likewise feigned to have only
then become awake. And the elder man spake unto me these words only: "Dost thou wish us to
'recite twelve Psalms only?" And I said unto him, "Yes," and the younger man recited five
Psalms out of [each of the] six Pethgâmâ, and one Hûlâlâ; and at every Pethgâmâ a lamp of
fire came forth from his mouth, and went up into heaven; and similarly, when the elder man
stood up and recited the Psalms there went forth from his mouth as it were a rope of fire,
which ascended into heaven. Now I could only recite the Psalms little by little. And I
came forth and said unto them, "Pray 'ye for me"; but they excused themselves, and were
silent. And I learned that the elder man was perfect, but that the Enemy still waged war
against the younger man. And after a few days the elder man died, and three days later the
other man died also; and whensoever the fathers came to Abbâ Macarius he used to take them
to the cell of those brethren, and say unto them, "Behold ye the martyrium of these little
strangers."

CHAPTER 23. OF ABBA BESSARION

1 The disciples of Abbâ Bessarion used to relate the story of his life and deeds in the
following words:— The mode of life of the old man was that of the bird of the heavens, and
of the things which are in the waters, and of the creeping things of the earth, and he
passed the whole period of his life in peace, and in tranquillity; for no anxiety [as to
the condition] of his cell was ever present with him; and his soul was never occupied with
the desire to live in certain places; and he never ministered during the whole course of
his career to the satisfying of himself with food; and he never gathered together or laid
up for himself possessions in clothes or books; but he was free from care about everything
which concerned the body, and he rejoiced in the hope of the good things which were to
come; and he was firm and immovable in the foundation of his faith; and he followed the
ascetic life strenuously. He wandered hither and thither like one possessed, in the season
of frost [he went] naked, and he was consumed with heat under the fierce rays of the sun,
and at one time he lived among the rocks and at another in the desert. And if it fell out
and happened that he came to districts which were settled, or to a place where a
congregation of monks passed their whole lives together in the fulfilment of the rules of
monasticism, he would take his seat contentedly outside the door of the monastery.

2 Now on one occasion, having arrived at a certain monastery, he sat down outside the
door, and he wept and wailed aloud after the manner of one who had been saved from a storm
[at sea]; and when one of the brethren had gone forth, he found him [sitting there] like
any ordinary poor man or beggar, and having drawn nigh unto him compassionately he said
unto him, "Wherefore weepest thou, O man? If thou hast need of any of the necessaries of
life, so far as in my power lieth, I will give it unto thee. Rise up, then, and get thee
inside the monastery, and comfort thyself with the blessed companionship of the table with
us. Then the blessed Bessarion made answer unto him, and said, "Until I find the
possessions of my house which I have lost, and the numerous goods of the house of my
fathers which I have lost in sundry and divers ways, I cannot live under a roof. For
pirates fell upon me at sea, and a storm rose up against me, and I have been shorn of my
riches, and from being a man of high degree I have become the object of contempt. Now that
brother was astonished at these words, and was grieved thereat, and he went in and brought
out some bread, and gave it unto him, saying, "Father, take this, and the other things
which thou hast mentioned, that is to say, country, and family, and riches, God shall
restore unto thee.

3 But Abbâ Bessarion cried out the more, and with louder cries, and lifted up his voice
and said, "I know not if I shall be able to find that which I have lost, and that which I
seek, for as far as I can see they will be removed from me still farther. And I am
afflicted daily, and am brought nigh unto death by reason of the violent storm of
wickednesses innumerable which surround me, and I endure them and [rest] upon hope that,
peradventure, I may be worthy of mercy in the day of judgement."

CHAPTER 24. OF THE WONDERFUL THINGS WHICH ABBA BESSARION WROUGHT

1 Abbâ Shâôl (or Dulas), the disciple of Abbâ Bessarion, used to say :—We came once to the
bank of a lake and I was athirst, and I said unto Abbâ Bessarion, "I am thirsty." And the
old man prayed, and said unto me, "Take water from the lake, and drink," and I went, and
drank, and I found the water to be sweet; and I drew therefrom and filled all the water
vessels which I had with me, for I thought that peradventure I should be thirsty again
when I continued my journey. Then the old man seeing me do this, said, "Why fillest thou
[these vessels with] water?" And I said unto him, "Forgive me, father, but I did so lest,
243 16a peradventure, as we continue our journey, I may become "thirsty again"; and he
said to me, "May God forgive thee, for here, and there, and everywhere, God directeth us."

2 And on another occasion he was travelling along a road, and he came to the river
Chrysoroan, and there was nothing wherewith it might be crossed, and he stretched out his
hands, and prayed, and crossed over to the other side. Now I was astonished, and I offered
unto him repentance, and said, "Father, when thou wast passing over the river how far up
thy legs didst thou feel the water?" And he said unto me, "As far as my ankles I felt the
water, but all the rest of it was solid beneath my feet." And on another occasion we were
journeying to a certain great sage, and the sun was nigh to set, and the old man prayed,
and said, "I beseech Thee, O Lord, to let the sun abide in his place until I come to Thy
servant"; and it was so. 3 And on another occasion I came to him in his cell that I might
speak with him, and I found him standing up in prayer, with his hands stretched out to
heaven, and he remained standing up in this position for four days and four nights; and
afterwards he called me, and said unto me, "Come, my son," and we went forth and set out
on the road. And being athirst I said unto him, "My Father, I am athirst." Then he removed
himself from me about the distance of a stone's throw, and prayed and came to me, and he
brought with him his garment filled with water from the air, and I drank, and we travelled
on our road until we came to Lycus, to Abbâ John. And after each had saluted the other, he
prayed, and sat down, and he discoursed concerning the vision which he had seen, and Abbâ
Bessarion said, "A decree of judgement hath gone forth from the Lord, that all the temples
of the idols be blotted out"; and this actually came to pass, for at that time they were
all uprooted.

4 And there was in Egypt a certain man who had a son that was a paralytic, and he took him
on his shoulders, and brought him to Abbâ Bessarion and left him by the door of his cell
weeping, and he departed and went to a place some distance off. Now the old man heard the
sound of the weeping of the young man, and he looked out, and seeing him, said unto him,
"Who art thou that art here?" And the young man said, "My father brought me here and then
went away, and I weep." Then the old man said unto him, "Rise up, hasten after him, and
overtake him"; and straightway the young man was made whole, and he went to his father,
who took him and departed. 5 And on another occasion there came to the church a man who
had a devil, and prayer was made on his behalf in the church, but the devil did not go
forth, for he was difficult [to cast out]; and the clergy said, "What shall we do about
this devil, for no man can cast him out except Abbâ Bessarion?" Let us entreat him
concerning the man, and even though he "cometh not to the church, let us act thus. Behold,
the old man cometh to the church early in the morning before every-one else. Let us make
the sick man to occupy the seat wherein the old man sitteth usually, and when he cometh
in, let us stand up in prayer, and say unto him, 'O father, make to rise up this man
also'; and they did so. And when the old man came [into the church] in the morning, they
rose up in prayer, and said unto him, Father, make to rise up that brother"; and Abbâ
Bessarion went and struck him with his fist, and said, "Rise up and get thee forth"; and
straightway that devil went forth from the man, and he was made whole immediately.

CHAPTER 25. THE HISTORY OF A HOLY MAN WHO [POSSESSED] NINE VIRTUES

1 The fathers used to say concerning a certain brother who lived in a large monastery
that, having contended mightily, and having been helped by God, he had made himself master
of nine virtues, and that he was exceedingly desirous of making them ten, but that in
spite of many contendings he was unable [to do so]. Then the Enemy, according to his
custom, cast his arrows at him, and both by day and by night he vexed him and troubled him
in order that he might depart from the monastery wherein he was, and he advised him,
saying, "In another monastery thou wilt be able to complete the ten [virtues]. Now the
brother, not understanding the cunning of the Evil One, was led by his thoughts, which
seemed to incite him to [further] spiritual excellence, and he departed and went to
another monastery with the expectation that he would find that which he sought. And having
been received into the monastery to which he had gone, after a very short time, through
the contending of the Calumniator, he lost one virtue. And once again the Calumniator cast
into his mind the thought that he would depart from that monastery, although he remembered
his promise, and said, "Thou hast not only not found that which thou didst seek, but thou
hast also lost that which thou hadst.

2 Then the brother, being sad and sorry about that which had happened unto him, departed
and went to another monastery, with the expectation that he would be able to acquire the
virtue which he had lost, and also that he would be able to add another thereto. And
whilst the brother was working and contending to acquire that virtue which he had lost and
that which he had coveted, the Calumniator, through his wicked craftiness, made him lose
another, and he did the same thing to him on several occasions; and he made him to go out
from one monastery, and brought him into another so often that the brother at length lost
four virtues. 3 And the brother wandered about hither and thither in a state of great
agitation, and coming to a certain monastery he rested himself, and leaned against the
door thereof, in dejection of spirit, and he cried over himself, and wept because of what
had happened unto him. Then, having rested a little, he determined to go into that
monastery in order to be received into it. And he told himself of all the things which had
happened unto him, and all the trials which had attacked him in the monasteries wherein he
had been; and he passed judgement upon his soul and said, "Art thou able to bear all the
[trials] which are in this monastery?" And his soul made answer, saying, "I place my trust
in the mercy of our Lord that He will give strength to my weakness, and that I shall
endure [them]." Then, having decided these things in his thoughts, the brother wrote them
all down on a piece of paper, and placed them in his girdle, and he strengthened his
thoughts to go into the monastery that he might be received therein.

4 Now after he had been received, and had lived in the monastery for a short time, he
began to have freedom of speech with the brethren, and with the archimandrite, and
temptations also began to assail him; then he took out the written paper which was placed
in his girdle, and read it, and felt relieved, and this he continued to do whensoever
temptation assailed him. And the brethren marvelled because he was not perturbed when they
were, for on several occasions, when the brethren of that monastery were in a state of
excitement, he had not permitted himself to be agitated with them in the smallest degree,
and they wished to know the reason of this. And one day when the monks were agitated and
disturbed by a quarrel which was so serious that the matter nearly came to murder, that
brother took the paper, and looked at it, and as he was reading it one of the brethren
watched him. And when the tumult was over, and the brethren saw that he was not agitated,
they marvelled, and said, "What is the meaning of this thing? And why is not that brother
as excited as we are?" Then the brother who had watched the monk [read his paper] revealed
to them the matter, saying, "He hath something in his girdle, and on account of it he
remaineth undisturbed"; and the brethren enquired into the matter, and they found that it
was even as the brother had said.

5 Then they approached the archimandrite, and said unto him, If thou dost not expel this
brother, we will not remain here, "and we will go forth, because he is a sorcerer, and
behold, his sorceries are in his girdle"; and the archimandrite promised to expel him. Now
the archimandrite delayed the expulsion of that brother, and one night, whilst he was
asleep, the archimandrite went to him and took the paper from his girdle, and he read it
and rejoiced with a great joy; and having read the paper he put it [back] into the girdle
of the brother, who knew not what had been done, and no other man knew. And after a short
time the brethren, through the agency of Satan, were greatly disturbed by a very serious
quarrel, and that brother was in no wise agitated; and when they saw that he was not
disturbed at all and that he was wholly tranquil, they rose up against the archimandrite,
saying, "If thou dost not expel this brother we will all depart forthwith. Then the
archimandrite called the brother and said unto him, "What is this that thy brethren are
saying against thee? They are bringing an accusation against thee. And the brother
expressed regret, saying, "Yes, father, all [their words] are true; but permit me to
repent. And the archimandrite said unto him, "But they say that thou art a sorcerer"; and
the brother said, "Yes, I am even as they say, but I beseech thy piety, O father, that
thou wilt allow me to repent here.

6 Then the archimandrite said unto him, "But they say that thy sorceries are in thy
girdle. And the brother, being unwilling that his spiritual excellence should be revealed,
fell upon his face before the archimandrite and took hold of his feet, and made
supplication to him, and wept with groans and sighs, saying, "Expose me not, O father, but
forgive me for this once only, and I will repent with all my soul. Then the archimandrite,
who knew that great advantage would accrue to the whole brotherhood, would not be
persuaded by him, but he commanded that his girdle should be loosened, and he himself took
it and brought out therefrom the paper; and he then ordered that all the brethren should
be gathered together, and that the paper should be read in a prominent place, so that all
of them might hear. And after the paper had been read the brethren repented, and fell upon
their faces before that brother, and they entreated him, saying, "Forgive us, father, for
we have sinned against thee. Thus that brother benefited the whole brotherhood, and they
regarded him as a father.

CHAPTER 26. OF THE BLESSED WOMAN MARIA

1 There was a certain worldly man who wished to become a monk, and he had a little
daughter who besought him to take her with him to the monastery; now she was a maiden, and
he entreated her, saying, "If thou 'wishest to become a nun let me take thee to a house
for virgins," but she said to him, "I cannot be separated from 'thee." And her father,
being much distressed about her because she wept by night and by day and begged that she
might not be separated from him, made up his mind to take her with him, and he changed her
name that it might not be known that she was a maiden. Now her name had been "Mâriâ," but
her father gave her the name of "Maryânâ" as if she had been a boy; then he committed the
matter to God, and took her and went into a monastery without anyone perceiving that
Maryânâ was a girl, and after several years Maryânâ's father died performing the excellent
works of the monastic life. Now the archimandrite saw that Maryânâ was working [hard], and
was excelling in spiritual excellence, and he rejoiced in him, not knowing that he was not
a boy, and he commanded that he should not be sent out on the highways [to beg] because he
was a child; and the brethren were envious against Maryânâ because he did not go out on
the highways with them.

2 And when the archimandrite saw that the brethren were envious against Maryânâ because he
did not go out on the highways as they did, he called to Maryânâ and said unto him, "Since
the brethren are envious against thee because thou 'dost not perform the work on the high
roads as do they, I command thee to do so"; then Maryânâ fell down before the
archimandrite and said unto him, "Whatsoever thou commandest me to do I will do gladly, O
father. Now the brethren of the monastery wherein lived Maryânâ, whensoever they went out
on the high roads, visited a certain believer, in order to rest a little and to refresh
themselves, and since Maryânâ was sent out, even according to what had been ordered by the
archimandrite, the believing man whom the brethren visited saw him, (for he knew all the
brethren of the monastery because he used to go to their monastery continually); and the
believing man saw Maryânâ at the season of evening, and he took him and brought him to his
house, so that he might rest there for the night. And the believing man had a daughter,
and on the night wherein Maryânâ stayed with him a certain man seduced her, and he who had
fallen upon her and seduced her commanded her, saying, "If thy father saith unto thee, Who
is he that hath seduced thee? say thou unto him, It was Maryânâ the monk.

3 And as soon as Maryânâ had departed from them, the father of the maiden knew that his
daughter had been seduced, and he asked her, saying, "Who hath seduced thee? And she said
unto him, "Maryânâ, the monk, is he who hath seduced me. Then the father of the maiden
rose up straightway, and went to the monastery, and with tears he spake before the
archimandrite and the whole brotherhood, and said, "What offence have I committed against
you that ye should seduce my daughter? Now when the archimandrite heard this he was
greatly moved, and he said to him, "What sayest thou? Who hath seduced thy daughter? Tell
me who he is that I may expel him from the monastery forthwith"; and the man said unto
him, "It is Maryânâ who hath seduced my daughter. Then the archimandrite commanded that
Maryânâ should be called so that he might go forth from the monastery, but having been
sought for throughout all the building Maryânâ could not be found, and then they knew that
he was out on a journey for the monastery; and the archimandrite said unto the father of
the maiden, "There is nothing further which I can do except this: when Maryânâ returneth
from the highway I will not allow him to enter the monastery," and he gave orders to all
the brethren of the monastery, saying, "When Maryânâ returns he is not to be allowed to
enter the monastery."

4 And when Maryânâ came back from the road they would not allow him to enter the
monastery, and he wept at the door thereof and said, "What is my offence that I am not
permitted to enter the monastery?" Then the doorkeeper said to him, "[Thou art not
permitted to enter] because thou hast seduced the daughter of the believing man whom the
monks visit"; and Maryânâ entreated the doorkeeper, saying, "For the Lord's sake go in and
persuade the archimandrite to permit me to enter the monastery, and whatsoever he ordereth
me to do because of my fall I will do." So the doorkeeper went in and told the
archimandrite everything which Maryânâ had said, and the archimandrite said to him, "Go
and tell Maryânâ, [saying], 'Because thou hast done this thing thou shalt never see my
face again; get thee gone to whatsoever place thou pleasest.'" When Maryânâ heard these
things he was greatly afflicted, and he sat by the door of the monastery night and day,
and wept because of what had happened to him; and he besought those who went in and those
who came out to entreat the archimandrite on his behalf, and although very many folk did
so, and begged him to let Maryânâ come into the monastery, the archimandrite would not be
persuaded [to do so].

5 And after that maiden, through whom Maryānā had been trodden in the dust, had given
birth to her child, her father took the boy to whom his daughter had given birth, and
brought it to Maryānā, and said unto him, "Behold, here is thy son, take him and rear
him"; and Maryānā took the child, saying, "Glory be to God Who can endure and bear with
sinners like myself." And each day he took the child and went up the mountain to the goats
of the monastery, and suckled him with goats' milk, and when the child was suckled Maryānā
returned to the door of the monastery; now he never left the door of the monastery except
when he went to give the child milk, and he besought those who went in and those who came
out, with tears, to unite with him in making supplication to God to forgive him his sin.
And he sat by the door of the monastery for four years, and tears were never absent from
his eyes, neither by night nor by day, and every one who heard the sound of his weeping
was grieved for his sake. Now after Maryānā had suffered affliction by the door of the
monastery for four years and had shewn the child to every man, saying, "Pray ye for me,
for I fell into fornication, and this child is the result thereof," God moved the mind of
the archimandrite to bring Maryānā into the monastery, for His mercy was revealed upon
him, and He commanded the archimandrite to bring Maryānā in.

6 And as soon as Maryānā heard that they were going to bring him into the monastery from
the man who told him about it beforehand, he rose up straightway, and fell down before the
Lord, and said, "Glory be to Thee, O Lord, Who hath not been unmindful of such a [great]
sinner as I am! I give thanks unto Thee for all the goodness which thou hast shewn unto
me. What have I to give unto Thee in return therefor? For Thou hast brought me into the
monastery, by the door of which I had decided in my mind that I must die." And as soon as
those who had been sent to bring Maryānā into the monastery had done so, Maryānā fell down
before the archimandrite, and before the whole brotherhood of the monastery, now he was
carrying the child and was weeping, and sighing, and groaning, and he said unto them,
"Forgive ye me, O masters and fathers, for I have angered God with [my] evil works, and
you I have afflicted greatly; but pray for me, that God may forgive me the fall wherewith
I fell."

7 And after many years Maryānā, having prevailed mightily in the great labours of
spiritual excellence, delivered his soul to our Lord, and none of the brethren had ever
seen him laugh or smile; on the contrary, he mourned all the days of his life. And when he
was dead, the brethren drew nigh to anoint him with oil, according to the custom, and then
they saw that Maryānā was a woman. Then the brethren ran quickly and called the man who
had made the accusation against Maryānā, and when he had come and seen her, great wonder
laid hold upon him, and he besought God to forgive him the great sin and wrong which he
had done to Maryānā; and all those who heard and saw this glorified God that His saints
fight so bravely for His Name's sake.

CHAPTER 27. THE HISTORY OF A CERTAIN SAGE AND OF THE WATCHING OF THE MIND

1 There was a certain old man who lived in his cell and performed mighty ascetic works,
and who, whensoever the brethren of the Cells were gathered together for the vigil of the
First Day of the week, would come to the general assembly, and would act in such a way as
to make the brethren despise him, and indeed they regarded him as a man who had gone out
of his senses, although he did everything with discretion. Now God, the Good and
Compassionate, did not wish the labours of the old man to be hidden, but He revealed and
made known some of them for the benefit of the community, and He sent angels, who were in
the forms of rich and honourable men, to the priest of the Cells, and they came and
saluted him; and when the priest saw them, he ran forward to meet them, for he thought
that they who appeared to him were great and wealthy men, and he rose up immediately and
saluted them. And after they had sat down and had held some converse with the old man,
they besought him, saying, "O father, we beg of thee to allow us to go round the Cells
that we may be blessed by the Fathers"; and he accepted their petition, and permitted them
to do whatsoever they wished, and they asked him to send to them one of the brethren.

2 Then the priest called one of the brethren, and commanded him to go with them, and
beckoning him aside he said unto him secretly, "Take heed lest thou take them to the cell
of that [mad] old man, for when they see that he hath lost his reason they will be sorry
they have met him. And when they had come out to go to the Cells, the honourable men fell
down before the priest of the Cells, and said unto him, "O Father, give our brother orders
to take us to see all the fathers," and the priest said unto them, "I have commanded him
to take you to them all. And having gone to the fathers of the Cells, and visited them,
they returned to the priest in his cell, and he said unto them, "Are ye gratified now that
ye have seen the fathers? And they said unto him, "O father, we are gratified, but we are
sorry about one thing, that is to say, because thou didst command the brother who went
with us that we should not see all the fathers. Then the priest called the brother who had
gone with them, and said in their presence, "Did I not tell thee to take the brethren to
all the cells? And the brother said, "Yea, father, thou didst tell me to do so, and I took
them to all the cells, and they have seen all the brethren.

3 Then the honourable men said to the priest, "Forgive us, father, but there are some of
the fathers whom we have not seen, and we are greatly grieved thereat; but say a prayer on
our behalf so that we may depart." 4 And after the priest had prayed over them, and they
had departed from him, he called the brother who had gone with them, and said unto him,
"How did these men know what I ordered thee [to do]? Didst thou, perchance, reveal it unto
them? And the brother made repentance, and said, "Forgive me, father, but I did not reveal
[thy orders] unto them. Then the priest knew that the matter was from God, and he rose up
straightway and went to that old man whom he thought to be out of his mind, and he fell
down on his face before him, and laid hold upon his feet, and besought him to reveal unto
him his ascetic works and labours; and he swore to the old man that he would not rise up
from the ground, and would not let go his hold upon him until he had done so, saying to
the old man likewise, "That I should come to thee and that thou shouldst reveal thy
labours unto me, are matters from God. Now the old man was unwilling to reveal his works,
because he did not wish to be held in honour because of them, nevertheless he was
compelled to do so because the priest had told him that the matter was from God, and he
promised the priest to reveal unto him one thing;

5 and when the priest heard the promise of the old man, he rose up from the ground, and
seeing the old man in a gentle and tranquil frame of mind, he marvelled, because he had
never before seen him as he was at that moment. Then the old man said unto the priest,
"Depart, O father, I did not know that I did even one good thing, but of such things which
I have the following is one:—I have by my side two baskets, one on my right hand, and one
on my left; for every good thought which springeth up in my mind I take a pebble and throw
it into the basket which is on my right hand; and for every hateful thought which riseth
in me, I also take a pebble and throw it into the basket which is on my left hand, and
this I do every day. And when the time for the evening meal hath arrived, I take out the
pebbles, and count them, and if the number of those which are in the basket of good
thoughts on my right hand do not exceed those in the basket of evil thoughts on my left
hand, I do not take any supper that evening; and if they do exceed, then I eat, and
rejoice, for sometimes it happeneth that several days pass without my eating at all,
because the pebbles of the good deeds do not exceed in number the pebbles of the bad ones.

6 And whensoever an abominable thought cometh to me, I pass judgement on myself, and say,
'Take heed, for thou wilt not eat today!'" And having heard these things the priest
praised God, the Lord of the universe, and he marvelled how the old man could perform such
works of righteousness and yet keep them hidden from every man.

CHAPTER 28. OF TWO BROTHERS WHO DWELT IN A PERSIAN MONASTERY

1 A certain history, which is full of pain and profit, O my beloved, came to me by chance,
that is to say, through conversation and speech with the brethren, and I have thought much
about it, and have determined that it is right for me to narrate it, and to set it down in
writing, so that many from the reading of the same may acquire spiritual profit, and may
watch against enmity, and may not have bitter hatred of one another for any reason
whatsoever, and that each [of us] may be at peace with the other, and so that each [of us]
may forgive the other any cause for murmuring or anger, and may remember the words of our
Lord, and God, and Redeemer, Jesus Christ. 2 There were two brethren who dwelt in one
abode in a certain Persian monastery, and it happened that one of them had cause for
dispute with the other, and they separated, each from the other, the one leaving the
monastery altogether, and the other remaining in the abode wherein they had lived
hitherto. And it came to pass that he who remained behind was seized, and bound, and shut
up in prison, for [giving] testimony concerning our Lord, and he was brought before the
judge, and was questioned by him once, twice, and a third time, and he bore severe stripes
and did not deny Christ, and he was again fast bound in the prison house. Now when his
companion heard [this] he repented in his soul, and he thought, "It is right that I should
go and be reconciled with my brother, for perhaps through this testimony which he
persisteth in giving, he may depart from the world and go away, each of us keeping wrath
against the other, and through this we both shall suffer no small loss, and probably I
more than he." And when the brother had meditated thus, he came to the prison and enquired
for his companion who was imprisoned there, and he went into his presence and fell down at
his feet, and besought and entreated him to be reconciled to him; but the brother who was
in fetters would not be persuaded to do this, and continued in his wrathful condition, and
when the brother saw this he left him and departed in sorrow.

3 And on the following day the judge commanded and they brought in before him the man who
was bound and in prison, and he asked him if he would be persuaded to deny his God and to
worship the sun, and he would not agree to do either; and the judge gave orders that he
was to be laid out and beaten, and to be smitten with rods, and when they had laid him
out, and the strokes were being laid on by two [men] at a time, he denied Christ. Now when
the judge saw this, he commanded the men to stop beating him, and he called him to him,
and asked him, saying, "What aileth thee? I caused thee to bear 'severe stripes on three
previous occasions, and thou wast neither overcome nor didst play the coward's part, and
yet now, whilst they are coming near thee, thou dost deny '[thy God]. And the brother
said, "I have acted thus because 'I have sinned and treated with contempt the commandments
of the Lord my God, Who commanded us to forgive each his offences. I had once a brother in
our Lord, and we lived together in one monastery, and it happened that some cause for
anger rose up between us, and we separated from each other in enmity.

4 Yesterday he came to me in prison, and fell down before me and begged for peace from me,
and I would not consent to be reconciled unto him, and therefore the goodness of God was
cut off from me, and He did not help me this day as He hath always done before, and I
denied [Him]. During the stripes which I received formerly I used to see Him spread out
about a hand's breadth above me, and He did not permit me to suffer, but to-day He forsook
me, and at a small amount of pain I was terrified and I denied [Him]. Now when the judge
had heard these things from him, he commanded that his fetters should be loosed from off
him, and that he should be dismissed; and the brother, feeling disgrace and shame at the
fall which had come upon him, went forth from the presence of the judge, and directed his
way straight to his companion, and he fell down on his face at his feet, and wept and
cried out bitterly, and entreated for mercy and peace; and when his companion looked upon
him, he also suffered great grief, and he received him, and they were reconciled, and he
prayed for him, and though the thing was bitter to him, they separated one from the other.

5 Then the brother who had denied his God straightway returned to the door of the judge,
and he began to cry out and to curse the king, so that they might again bring him before
the judge for examination; but the judge did not wish to say anything to him. And when the
brother saw this, he departed from thence, and through penitence and grief for what had
happened to him, and also through the pain and anguish of his soul, he threw himself, body
and soul, into a fire temple; and he began to cast dust and everything else which came to
his hands on the fire; and he cursed the king mightily, saying, "God will receive those
who have been tripped up and have fallen, if they repent and turn unto Him. And he
departed from thence also, and he wandered about and went hither and thither, and he threw
stones at every magian or pagan whom he met, and he never ceased from reviling the king;
and he never ceased or kept silent concerning the compassion of our Lord, which is laid
out for those who repent, and he cried out, saying, "Verily, there is no god except our
Lord Jesus Christ, although I, through my sins, and my negligence of His mercy, have
denied Him. Now when the judge heard these things, he feared lest he would suffer a
penalty and be condemned to death as one who had heard the king reviled, and had been
neglectful;

6 and straightway he sent forth a decree concerning him, and ordered that his head should
be cut off quickly with the sword. And when they had seized the monk, and had taken him
outside the city, he cried out with a loud voice, and said, "Blessed art Thou, O our Lord
Jesus Christ, for ten thousand times ten thousand sins are too few for Thy mercy to
forgive in one hour"; and having said this they made him kneel down, and he was smitten by
the sword and received mercy. Glory be to the Power Who maketh strong His saints to do His
Will, and may we have mercy shewn unto us through their prayers, for ever and ever. Amen.


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO (CHAPTERS 29. THE HISTORY OF A CERTAIN VIRGIN WHO GREW OLD IN THE WORKS OF THE FEAR OF GOD–45. OF ABBA PAULE THE SIMPLE, THE DISCIPLE OF MAR ANTHONY)
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THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO continued

CHAPTER 29. THE HISTORY OF A CERTAIN VIRGIN WHO GREW OLD IN THE WORKS OF THE FEAR OF GOD

1 It was related by a certain old man who said:—There was a virgin who was far advanced in
years, and who had grown old in the fear of God, and having been asked by me to tell me
the reason why she left the world, she began, with sighs, to speak to me as follows:—Great
and marvellous things have happened unto me. When I was a young girl I had a father, who
was a pleasant man, and who was modest in his disposition; now he was a delicate man in
health, and he was always suffering from some kind of sickness, and he lived entirely to
himself, and never interfered in the affairs of other people, and it was with the greatest
difficulty that he could be induced to see the people of his village. When he was in good
health he devoted his attention unceasingly to the care of his estate, and he occupied
himself at all seasons with the cultivation of his fields; but finally he was obliged to
pass many long days of his life laid out on a bed of sickness, and he was so quiet that
those who were not acquainted with him would have thought that he was deaf. And I had a
mother, who, in all her ways and manners, was the opposite of my father, and she used to
do things which were beyond her capacity;

2 her words to every one were many, and she poured out her speech uselessly to every one,
and she talked so much that every one imagined that her body was composed wholly of
tongues. Moreover, she had quarrels with her neighbours continually, and she was always in
a state of drunkenness, and she drank shamelessly at all times with wanton folk, and she
managed the affairs of her house badly, after the manner of a harlot; and at length,
though the house was well furnished with goods of every kind, it was with the greatest
difficulty that the people could find enough to supply our wants. She was very lax in the
care for the things which my father required in his illness, but she displayed the utmost
attention in providing for her own body in a disgraceful manner, and the people of the
village at length fled before her shameless appearance. No illness ever came upon her, and
she had never been ill in the whole course of her life, from the day she was born, and she
was healthy in body until her death.

3 When therefore, I, a wretched girl, had lived for some time in such circumstances as
these, it happened that, after struggling against a long illness, that is to say, my
father was obliged to pass every day of his life in the infirmity of sickness, at length
he departed from the world. Now at the very moment of his death the weather changed, and
the rain poured down in torrents, and lightnings and thunders were tearing through the
air, and disturbing it violently, and it was impossible to tell whether it was day or
whether it was night; for this reason my father lay dead on his bier for three days, for
the weather did not permit him to be buried. And, moreover, it made the people of the
village to shake their heads, and they wondered, and said, "Perhaps great wickednesses
were committed by this man secretly, and he may have been found to be such an enemy of God
that even the earth will not permit his burial"; but, in order that his body might not go
wholly to corruption, even though the weather was gloomy and threatening, and the rain had
not ceased, by some means or other we carried him [to the grave], and laid him therein.
Now my mother, as one who had found great relief, forthwith fulfilled unreproved her
wanton lusts to the utmost, and she straightway turned my father's house into an abode of
harlots, and she lived there in such a state of luxury and lascivious pleasure that soon
of all the goods in it only a mere remnant was left, and that remnant she left to me when
I was very young. Then with difficulty came death to my mother, and in my opinion, he was
afraid to approach her, for great worms grew in her, and with much trouble she was buried,
the weather by its serenity, and the sun by his splendour helping [in the work].

4 Now after the death of my mother, and whilst I was still a little girl, I left the
world. During the period when I was a young woman the lusts of the body were stirred up
within me, and they goaded me severely, and I used to rise up in the evening (or night)
that I might lie down again and find a little relief from the disturbance of my mind. And
a struggle went on in my thoughts, for I wondered what manner of life I should choose for
myself, and how I should end the days of my life, and whether they would be passed in
quietness and happiness, and fair chastity, even as they were during my father's lifetime.
Then my thoughts spake unto me thus:— "Behold, in this world thy father did not enjoy any
happiness whatsoever, but he passed all his life in sickness and wretchedness, and he
departed from this world of trouble under the same circumstances, and even the earth was
unwilling to receive his body; are [men] to receive such a life as this from (?) God, and
why did my father deserve such treatment? On the other hand, supposing I chose to lead a
life like that of my mother, will that be any better to deliver my body over to
fornication, and lasciviousness, and the gratification of [my] lusts? For, behold, my
mother left no kind of abominable wickedness which she did not commit, and she destroyed
her whole life with her depravity, and yet she departed from this world having enjoyed
health and prosperity every day [of her life]! What then? Is it not then right for me to
live even as she lived? For it is better that I should believe with mine own eyes, and
that they should see for themselves the variety and the ending of such matters, for there
is nothing better than to understand thoroughly whatsoever we see openly before our eyes."

5 And I, the wretched girl, vainly imagined that such thoughts were the thoughts of truth,
and for this reason I determined to prepare myself to live even as my mother had lived.
Now when the night had overtaken me, and immediately sleep had fallen upon me after
thinking thoughts of this kind, a certain man, of huge stature, stood up above me; and his
appearance was frightful, and his form made me tremble and terrified me, and his face was
hard, and in a stern voice he asked me, saying, "Tell me, so and so, what are these
thoughts which are in thy heart?" And, because I was terrified by his appearance and form,
I scarcely dared to look upon 6 257 him, and in a voice which was sterner than before, he
commanded me to reveal to him the things which I had settled in my own mind to do. And
being stupefied with fear I forgot all my thoughts and I said unto him, "My lord, I know
not what thou sayest," and having thus denied that I knew, he reminded me of everything
which I had thought out in my mind, one after the other. Therefore, having rebuked myself,
I turned and begged and entreated him that I might be held worthy of forgiveness, and I
related unto him the reason for such thoughts. Then he straightway said unto me, "I am
about to shew thee both thy father and thy mother, and the [different] manner of life
which they lead, and the things which each doeth, and thou shalt choose which life thou
wilt lead." And he took me by my hands, and drew me away, and carried me to an exceedingly
great plain, wherein there were many paradises, and thick trees heavily laden with fruits,
which for appearance and beauty surpassed description. Now when I had entered into that
plain, my father met me, and embraced me, and kissed me, and he held converse with me and
called me "my daughter," and whilst I was in his embrace I besought him that I might
remain with him, but he said unto me, "At present it is impossible, but if thou desirest
to walk chastely in my footsteps thou shalt come hither after no great time."

7 And as I remained and was making my supplication unto him, he who had brought me to this
place drew me on, and I was lifted up in his hands, and he said unto me, "Come and see thy
mother also in the fire which is blazing fiercely, so that thou mayest know how to choose
what is good, and towards which manner of life it will be useful and beneficial for thee
to incline. Then he showed me a fiery furnace which was burning fiercely, and every kind
of thing of cruel wrath surrounded the furnace, and I heard proceeding therefrom the sound
of weeping and of gnashing of teeth. And having looked down into the furnace I saw my
mother sunk in fire up to her neck, and she was weeping and gnashing her teeth, and she
was being consumed in the fire, and she was being gnawed by a multitude of worms; and when
she saw me she cried out with tears in a loud voice and, addressing me with the words, "My
daughter," she said, "woe is me, O my daughter, for these things have come upon me because
of my evil deeds, and because I held to be madness the things which were said unto me
concerning chastity, and the punishments which were declared to fall upon those who
committed fornication and adultery. And, behold, in return for my lascivious pleasure I
have to suffer torture, because I did not think that vengeance was laid up therefor!

8 And, behold, in return for a little pleasure and the momentary gratification of my
desire, what everlasting punishment I have to endure, and what penalty is there which I am
not compelled to pay? And consider, moreover, that in return for the short-lived happiness
which I, O wretched woman, enjoyed, I have to pay a prolonged penalty. And because I
despised God what evil wages I have to receive! All these things have overtaken me because
I behaved rebelliously, but, behold, now is the time for helping me, O my daughter.
Remember now with what anxious care and attention thy bringing up was carried out, and the
helpful things which I brought thee, and to speak briefly, all the good things which I did
for thee. Have mercy upon the woman who burneth in the fire. Have mercy upon the woman who
hath been cast into such tortures as these. Have pity upon me, O my daughter, and stretch
out thy hand, and lift me up out of this place. Now I excused myself from doing this on
account of him that stood by my side, and again she wept and cried out to me, saying, "O
my daughter, help me. O my daughter, have pity upon me, and come to me. Neglect not thy
mother who gnasheth her teeth [in pain], and treat not with indifference her who suffereth
torment in Gehenna."

9 Now as, after the nature of a human being, I felt pain because of her tears and her
mournful voice, I began to cry out loudly, and to sigh and moan bitterly, and then all
those who were sleeping in our house awoke, and when they had risen up, they questioned me
and I told them the reason of the outcry and disturbance, and I narrated unto them
everything which had appeared unto me. These are the things through which, by the rich
mercy of God, I chose to follow the life and works of my father, and I was persuaded to be
governed, and through Divine Providence I am confirmed in my belief that such punishments
are laid up for those who desire to live an evil life. Such are the things which we heard
from the virgin who is worthy of blessing, and from them we may know what delights,
according to the things which appeared unto her in the revelation, are laid up for those
who wish to live in a state of spiritual excellence, and what punishments are prepared for
those who choose to live a wicked and wanton life. And because of these things it is meet
that we should strive to the utmost to live a life of virtue, and to excel therein, so
that, by the help of God, we may through our life and deeds merit the happiness [of
heaven]. Amen.

10 259 17a

CHAPTER 30. OF STEPHANA, A MAN WHO FELL INTO FILTHY WANTONNESS

1 There was a certain man in Scete whose name was Stephānā, who had dwelt in the desert
for twenty-nine years; his apparel was made of palm leaves, and he lived in such a strict
state of self-denial, and persisted to such a degree in ascetic abstinence that he never
had the least inclination for the meats which are usually desired, and which are pleasant
to the taste; and he greatly condemned those who, because of sickness, either ate cooked
food or drank cream. Now the gift of healing had been given to him to such a degree that
he could cast out devils by a word. And it came to pass that on one occasion a man in whom
was an unclean spirit came to Scete, and he wished to be healed, and when the monk saw
that he was vexed sorely by the devil he made a prayer and healed him. But at length this
monk was rejected by Divine Providence because of his immeasurable arrogance and
haughtiness, for he imagined himself to be more excellent in his life and works than the
other fathers; first of all he separated himself from the brotherhood, and then he went
and became archimandrite in one of the Alexandrian monasteries, "For," he said in his
pride, "am I to be in subjection to Ma-carius? And are not my life and works better than
his?

2 And this man arrived at such a state of madness that he went to Alexandria, and gave
himself up to gluttony, and drunkenness, and to the eating of more flesh than rational
beings are wont to eat, and finally he fell and settled down into the pit of the lust for
women; and he was always going about in the houses of harlots, and in the taverns of ill-
fame, and he hung closely to the whores, and gratified his lusts in a filthy manner
without shame, and he became a laughing-stock to all who knew him. But the spirit went
forth to those who knew him, saying, "The law was not made for the perfect," and he
himself said, "I do not act [thus] because of passion and fornication, neither do I do
anything which is abominable, for it is not a sin to go with women, for male and female
were created by God."

3 And it fell out that one day I and the blessed man Evagrius went to Alexandria on some
business which called us thither. And we had with us four brethren; and as we were passing
through the city market that monk met us accidentally, and he was talking with a harlot
about his filthy lust; and when the blessed Evagrius saw him, he wept, and fell down at
his feet and made obeisance unto him, but the man did not incline his head in the smallest
degree, and with infinite arrogance and haughtiness he made answer to him, saying, "What
do hypo-" "crites and deceivers seek here? Then the blessed Evagrius entreated him to go
with us to the place where we were lodging, but he did not by any means wish to go; and
when, with the greatest difficulty, he had been persuaded to go with us, so soon as we had
entered in and prayed, the blessed Evagrius fell upon his neck and kissed him, and with
tears said unto him, "Verily, O my beloved, from all that divine service of angels thou
hast been brought down to this depth of wickedness; and thou hast turned thyself from
converse with God to converse with harlots; and instead of the life and service of angels
thou hast chosen the life of devils!

4 But I beseech and entreat thee not to cut off the hope of thy redemption, but arise, and
come with us to the desert, for by my hands God the Merciful is able to restore thee to
thy former grade. Now his understanding had been so blinded by Satan that he did not know
how to listen to what was said unto him, nor did he know what he answered. And he said
unto Evagrius, "Up to the present I have certainly been wandering about, but now I have
found the path of truth," and he began to make a mock of the fathers, and to say, "Ye
certainly wander about [i.e., err], and ye dwell in the desert under a false character,
for the sake of men, and not for the sake of God, and ye are to the spectators as idols
whom men decorate, and to whom they pay worship"; and thus, being full of the pride and
boasting of Satan, he spurned the fathers and went forth and departed, and the blessed
Evagrius and the brethren wept and groaned over him greatly.

5 Then that man carried off a certain virgin, who was an orphan and a nun living by
herself, with a foul design to his monastery, and though he did this with the excuse that
he was going to help her by means of alms of which she was in need, it was in reality that
he might fulfil his wanton desire. And having lived with her in this degraded state for
about two years, at length there came to him thieves by night, who first tied him with
cords, and then smote him with hard and cruel blows, until he brought out whatsoever he
had in his dwelling and laid it before them; and last of all they shut him up with the
woman with whom he used to work out his wantonness in a house wherein there was straw,
and, both of them being bound with cords, the thieves set fire to the house, and thus the
two were consumed, and they died a bitter death. And in them was fulfilled that which was
spoken by the teacher of the Gentiles, who said, "Because they did not decide within
themselves to know God, God delivered them over to the knowledge of vanity, that they
might disgrace their bodies therewith, and they received the reward which befitted their
error in their own persons (Romans 1, 28); that is to say, the burning of the fire which
is here is a pledge of that fire which tormenteth all the wicked." Now the things which
happened to Stephānā took place because he separated himself from the brotherhood, and
because he was [unduly] exalted in his mind, and because he imagined that he was perfect.

CHAPTER 31. OF EUCARPUS

1 And there was also in the desert a certain man whose name was Eucarpus, who had passed
eighteen years shut up in his cell; and the food which was necessary for his wants was
brought by others. He had lived in seclusion for fifteen years, and he never spoke to any
man [during that period] except when he was in need of something. He used to write upon
paper [what he wished to say], and would give it to those who ministered unto him, and he
also did thus when any man asked him a question or spoke to him; his food consisted of
vegetables soaked in water, and pounded garden herbs, and he carried out his rule of life
with infinite labour. Finally, however, the devils made him a laughing-stock also, because
of the vain opinion which he had concerning himself. First of all he separated himself
from mingling with the brethren and conversing with them, and next he ceased to meditate
on the Holy Scriptures, and he did nothing except pray continually; for he was proud and
haughty in his mind, and he thought that he was perfect, and that on account of the purity
of his heart, forsooth, he was always seeing God in his mind, for he that tempteth tempted
him also, even as he had tempted the blessed man Job. And one night Satan appeared unto
him in the form of an angel of light, and said unto him, "I am Christ";

2 and when Eucarpus saw him, he thought that the appearance was a real person, and he fell
down, and worshipped him, and said unto him, "Master, what commandest thou thy servant [to
do]? And he who had appeared unto him said unto him, "Since thou hast excelled many in thy
works, and hast kept all my commandments, I desire greatly to make my abode with thee; but
since thou art perfect, it is not necessary for thee to shut thyself up, and it is no
longer right that thou shouldst live in seclusion, but thou must teach all the brethren
not to destroy their souls with the reading of the Scriptures and the reciting of the
Psalms. And they must not labour in the toil of the body, and they must not vex their
souls with fasting, and hunger, and thirst, but they must labour with the labour of the
soul, for by these means they shall be able speedily to be lifted up to the highest grade,
and they must always look at me with their minds, and I will shew them my glory. And as
for thee, since thou hast raised thyself above all the monks by thy works, behold, I make
thee this day a chief and a governor over all the monks who dwell in Scete. For Macarius
is not of as much use as a governor as thou art.

3 Then Eucarpus was more lifted up in his mind than before, and he was far more proud, and
he believed truly the error of the Crafty One, and his understanding was taken away from
him, and he was smitten in his mind immediately he had worshipped the Calumniator. 4 Now
on another day there was a congregation in the church, and Satan appeared unto Eucarpus a
second time, and said unto him, "Go thou this day, for all the brethren are gathered
together, and teach them everything which I commanded thee yesterday in the night season."
Then Eucarpus opened the door of the house wherein he secluded himself, and departed to go
to the church; and it happened that Abbâ John was sitting by the side of the church, and
the brethren were round about him, and were asking him about their thoughts. And when
Eucarpus came, and saw John with the brethren surrounding him, he was filled with envy of
him, and he answered and said unto John with haughtiness and wicked wrath, "Why dost thou
adorn thyself and dost sit down, like a whore, who wisheth to multiply her friends? Or,
who commanded thee to be a corrector of others, seeing that it is I who am the governor of
the monastery?" Now when the brethren heard [these words], they were greatly moved, and
said unto him, "And who made thee a governor in Scete?" And Eucarpus said unto them,
"Yesterday in the night I was made governor by Christ, therefore turn ye to me, and I will
teach you the way, whereby ye shall easily ascend to the high grade of the vision of
glory; and moreover, go not ye astray after the writings of Evagrius, neither hearken ye
unto the words of John, for ye have wandered far enough into error already."

5 Then he began to revile the fathers, and he called Macarius a "painted idol" whom those
who err worship, for he knoweth not how to lead the brethren on the path towards heavenly
things; and Evagrius he called "a hewer of words" who hath led the brethren into error by
following his writings, and hath made them to cease from spiritual service. And the devils
made a mock of Eucarpus until they were able to lift him up and to dash him down upon the
earth, but all these things which fell upon him took place because he condemned the
brethren, and because through his pride and arrogance he held them in contempt, and
because he did not desire to meditate upon the Holy Scriptures, and on the doctrine of the
fathers. And finally, when the fathers saw that he was smitten in mind, they threw iron
fetters on him and bound him therewith, and he lived with them upon him; and the holy
fathers offered up prayer on his behalf for eleven whole months, and then his mind
returned to him, and he was so thoroughly cured of his pride that he perceived his
weakness, and recognized his disease whereby he had been made a mock of by the devils. And
in him was fulfilled that which was said, "Old blains (or wounds) are 'cured by burnings,'
and, 'Thou who didst exalt thyself to heaven shalt be brought down even unto Sheol'
(Isaiah xiv, 13-15). Now Eucarpus lived after he had been cured of his arrogance one year
and one month; and the fathers commanded that he should minister unto the sick, and that
he should wash the feet of strangers, and thus he died.

CHAPTER 32. OF A CERTAIN FAMOUS DEACON WHO DWELT IN A COENOBIUM IN EGYPT

1 A certain brother asked an old man and said unto him, "If it should happen that a man
fell into temptation, by the permission of God, for the benefit of his soul, what is it
right for those to do who are made to stumble by the same temptation?" The old man
answered and said unto him, "If he repent in very truth, and with all his heart, and make
confession unto God in his repentance, [saying,] 'I have been rightly humbled,' and shall
say unto God, 'It is good for me that I have been humbled, so that I might learn Thy
commandments,' God is able to heal the consciences of those who have already offended
Him." And the old man spake and narrated the following: 2 There was a certain deacon in a
coenobium in Egypt, and a rich man, who had been driven out and had departed from the
presence of a governor who had dominion over him, came with his household to that
coenobium; and the deacon stumbled and fell into adultery with the wife of one of those
who were with him, and he became a laughing-stock unto every man. And he went to a certain
man who was his friend, and revealed unto him the matter, and he said unto him, "Let no
man know where I am"; for he hid himself in a secret part of the cell of him that loved
him, and he said unto him, "Here bury thou me during my lifetime"; and having gone down
into the darkness of that hidden place he repented unto God in very truth. And after a
certain time, the river, which was nigh unto the place in the region wherein the deacon
had hidden himself, did not rise according to its wont, and the people of the country
having prayed and made supplication it was revealed unto one of the saints that, "Unless
that deacon who is hidden among us come forth, the waters will not rise." So they went and
brought him out from the place where he was hidden, and when he had come, and had made a
prayer, straightway the river rose, and those who had been formerly offended by him were
now edified the more, and they profited through him greatly and glorified God.

CHAPTER 33. OF A CERTAIN EXCELLENT BISHOP WHO FELL INTO FORNICATION, AND THE PEOPLE HAVING WALKED UPON HIM HE WAS FORGIVEN

There was a certain bishop in one of the cities, who through the working of the
Calumniator fell into fornication; and one day when the congregation was in the church,
although no one knew of the Bishop's sin, he voluntarily confessed it before all the
assembly, and said, "I have fallen into fornication." Then he took off the vestments which
were on him, and laid them upon the altar, and said, "I cannot, henceforward, be your
Bishop." And all the people cried out with tears, saying, "Let this sin be upon us; only
remain thou in thine episcopate." And he answered and said unto them, "If ye wish me to
remain in my episcopate, do ye that which I shall say unto you"; and he commanded, and all
the doors of the church were shut with the exception of one, and he threw himself down
upon his face, and said, "The man who goeth out from the church without walking upon me
shall have no portion with God"; and they did according to his word, and when the last man
had gone out, a voice was heard which said, "Because of his great humility I have forgiven
him his sin."

CHAPTER 34. OF A CERTAIN BROTHER WHO WAS A NEIGHBOUR OF ABBA POEMEN

When Abbâ Poemen came into the countries of Egypt to dwell there, it happened that he took
up his abode by the side of a brother who had a wife, and though the old man knew of this
he did not rebuke him. And when the time had come for the woman to bring forth, and this
was known to the old man, he cried out to a younger brother, and said unto him, "Arise,
take this jar of wine and carry [it] to our neighbour, for he will have need thereof this
day." Now the matter was not known to that brother, but he did as the old man commanded
him. And the brother [who had a wife] groaned and repented in his mind, and after a few
days he dismissed the woman, and gave her whatsoever he happened to have by him; then he
came to Abbâ Poemen, and said unto him, "Behold from this day onwards I repent, O father,
but I entreat thee to pray to God on my behalf so that He may receive my repentance." And
Abbâ Poeman said unto him, "If thou repentest with all thy heart, I believe that God will
bestow forgiveness upon thee; and do not despair of thy redemption." And the brother went
and built for himself a place of retreat, and he made therein an entrance through which he
used to come to visit the old man; and he would go to Abbâ Poemen thereby, and the old man
would reveal unto him the way of God, and thus he profited spiritually. And the brother
laboured in fasting, and in prayer, and he wept and sighed, and grieved sorely for his
sin; and [at length] it was revealed unto the old man on behalf of the brother that God
had accepted his repentance.

CHAPTER 35. OF A CERTAIN BROTHER WHO DENIED [CHRIST] BECAUSE OF THE DAUGHTER OF A HEATHEN PRIEST

1 Once a certain brother was engaged in a war against fornication, and he happened to pass
through a village in Egypt where he saw the daughter of a heathen priest, and he loved
her, and he said to her father, "Give her to me to wife." And the priest answered and said
unto him, "I cannot give her to thee before learning from the god [his will in the
matter]"; and he went to his devil, and said unto him, "Behold, a certain monk wisheth to
take my daughter to wife; shall I give her to him or not?" And the devil made him answer,
saying, "Seek out and enquire if he will deny his God, and his baptism, and the vows which
he made before entering the monastic life." And having gone to the brother the priest told
him that he would accept him [as his daughter's husband] if he would deny both these
things (sic), and the priest also said unto him, "Wilt thou deny the baptism wherewith
thou wast baptized?" And the brother answered and said, "Yea, I will"; and straightway he
saw the Spirit of God go forth from his mouth in the form of a dove, and ascend into
heaven. Then the priest went to the devil and told him what the brother had said, "Behold,
he hath promised to deny all three things"; and the devil answered and said unto him,
"Thou shalt not give [him] thy daughter, for his God hath not departed from him, for He is
still helping him, and will accept him if he repenteth." And the priest came and said to
that brother, "I cannot give her to thee, for thy God is with thee, and He will not leave
thee, but will help thee." Now when the brother heard this he said within himself, "So God
keepeth such great grace as this for thee, and will still help thee!"

2 Then that brother, having come back to his senses, made strong his mind, and fortified
his will, and went forth to a certain old man in the desert, and related the matter unto
him. And the old man answered and said unto him, "Sit thou down here with me in [this]
cave, and fast for three weeks, only eating once every two days, and I will make
supplication on thy behalf unto God. And the old man laboured with the brother, and he
made entreaty and supplication unto God, saying, "I beseech Thee, O Lord God, to grant me
the soul of this brother, and to accept his repentance. And when the first week was
fulfilled, the old man came to the brother, and asked him, saying, "Hast thou seen
anything? and the brother answered and said, "Yes, I have seen a dove flying about in the
heights of heaven, and standing before my head," and the old man said unto him, "Take heed
to thyself, and pray unto God with groans and sighs"; and the following week he came again
to the brother, and asked him the same question, saying, "Hast thou seen anything? And the
brother made answer, saying, "I saw a dove which came and drew near to my head," and the
old man admonished him, saying, "Rouse up and pray unto God with abundant supplication.
And when the third week was fulfilled the old man came to the brother and said unto him,
"What hast thou seen?

3 And he answered and said unto him, "I saw a dove which came and stood upon my head, and
I stretched out my hand and took hold of it, but it fled away and entered into my mouth.
Then the old man gave thanks unto God, and said unto the brother, "God hath accepted thy
repentance; henceforward watch thyself and take heed to thyself. And the brother answered
and said, "Behold, from this day onwards I shall live with thee, O father, even to the day
of my death."

CHAPTER 36. OF A CERTAIN OLD MAN IN SCETE

There was a certain old man in Scete who, having become very sick indeed, was ministered
to by the brethren, and he thought in his mind that they were tired of him, and he said,
"I will go to Egypt, so that the brethren may not have to labour on my account." And Abbâ
Moses said unto him, "Thou shalt not go, for if thou goest, thou wilt fall into
fornication"; and the old man was grieved and said, "My body hath long been dead, and
sayest thou these things unto me?" So he went up to Egypt, and men heard about him, and
they brought many offerings unto him, and a certain believing virgin came in faith to
minister unto him. And after a time, when the old man had been healed, the young woman lay
with him, and she conceived, and folk asked her, saying, "Whence hadst thou that which
thou hast 'conceived?'" And she said unto them, "From the old man," and they believed her
not. Now when the old man heard that they would not believe her, he said, "Yea, I have
done this 'thing; but protect ye for me the child which shall be born.'" And when the
child had been born and was weaned, there was a congregation in Scete, and the old man
went down carrying the child on his shoulder, and he went into the church before all the
people; and when they saw him they all wept. Then the old man said unto the brethren,
"Observe ye, O my brethren, 'this is the child of disobedience; take heed, then, unto
your-selves, for I have committed this act in my old age, and pray ye for me'; and the old
man went to his cell, and dismissed the things wherewith he hath lived, and returned to
his former deeds, and after a time he arrived [once more] at his old measure of ascetic
excellence.

CHAPTER 37. OF THE HARLOT WHOM SERAPION CONVERTED

1 Abba Serapion once came and passed through a certain village in Egypt, and he saw a
harlot standing in his cell, and the old man said unto her, "Remain 'here until the
evening, for I wish to come with thee, and to pass this night with thee'; and the harlot
said, 'It is well, O father.' Then she made ready, and prepared her bed, and she awaited
the old man with that which he required. Now when it was evening, Abba Serapion came, but
he brought nothing with him, and he went into her cell, and said unto her, 'Is thy bed
ready?' And she said unto him, 'Yea, father'; and they shut themselves in. Then the old
man answered and said unto her, 'Wait a little, because I must perform a certain thing
which is a law unto us.' And he began to recite the Book of the Psalms of David from the
beginning, and with every Psalm he offered up a prayer on her behalf, and he made
supplication before God that she might repent and live, and God hearkened unto him. And
the harlot stood up in fear by the side of the old man and prayed also, and when Abba
Serapion had finished all the Psalms she fell down upon the ground, and he began to repeat
many verses from the [books of the] Apostles.

2 When he had finished his service, God having opened the heart of that woman, she knew
that Abba Serapion had not come unto her for the purposes of sin, but that he might redeem
her, and she fell on her face before him, and said unto him, 'Perform an act of grace for
me, O father, and take me to any place whatsoever wherein I can please God. And he took
her to an abode of nuns and placed her therein and he said to the mistress of the convent,
"Take this sister, O mother, and lay not upon her the rules and the yoke like the [other]
sisters, but whatsoever she requireth that give her; and in proportion as she findeth rest
let her submit to be led. And when the woman had dwelt in the nunnery for a few days, she
said, "I am a sinful woman, and I wish to eat only in the evening"; and after a few days
more she said, "Many sins lie to my charge, and I therefore beg that I may eat once every
four days," and she did so; and after a few days more she besought the mistress of the
nunnery, saying, "Do an act of grace for me. Since I have made God exceedingly angry, take
me into a cell and wall it up, and through a small opening therein give me a little bread
and work for my hands [to do].

3 And the abbess of the nunnery hearkened unto her, and did thus, and in this wise that
woman pleased God all the days of her life.

CHAPTER 38. OF THE HARLOT WHOM A SUBDEACON DROVE OUT OF THE CHURCH

A certain old man said: There was a harlot who was so beautiful and so rich that all
princes flocked unto her. One day she went into the church and desired to pass inside the
gates, but a subdeacon who was standing at the door would not allow her to do so, and he
said, "Thou art not allowed to enter into the house of God, because thou art an unclean
woman." Now whilst they were striving together, the Bishop heard the sound of the noise,
and he went out to see [what was the matter]. And the harlot said unto him, "He would not
permit me to go into the church," and the Bishop said to her, "Thou art not permitted [to
do so] because thou art unclean." Then having repented within herself, she said, "I will
never play the whore again." And the Bishop said unto her, "If thou wilt strip thyself of
all thy possessions, I shall know of a certainty that thou dost repent"; then she brought
her possessions, and the Bishop took them, and divided them in the fear of God among the
needy. And the woman went into the church, and wept and said, "If it hath happened to me
thus in this world, what would have happened to me in the next?" And she repented, and
became a chosen vessel.

CHAPTER 39. OF ABBA APOLLO WHO WAS IN SCETE

1 They say concerning Abbâ Apollo, who lived in Scete, that he was originally a rude and
brutish herdsman, and that he [once] saw in the fields a woman who was with child, and
that, through the operation of the devil, he said, "I wish to know the condition of the
child which is in 'the womb of this woman,' and that he ripped her open and saw the child
in her belly; then straightway he repented, and he purged his heart, and having repented
he went to Scete, and revealed unto the fathers what he had done. And when he heard them
singing the Psalms, and saying, 'The days of our years are threescore years and ten, and
with difficulty '[we come] to fourscore years' (Psalm xc, 10), he said to the old men, 'I
am forty years old this day, and I have never yet made a prayer; and now, if I live for
forty years more, I will never rest, nor cease, nor refrain from praying to God
continually that He may forgive me my sins.' And from that time onwards he did even as he
had said, for he never toiled with the work of his hands, but he was always supplicating
God, and saying, 'I, O my Lord, like a man, have sinned, and do Thou, like God, forgive
me'; and he prayed this prayer both by night and by day instead of reciting Psalms.

2 And a certain brother who used to dwell with him once heard him say in his prayer, now
as he spake he wept, and groaned from the bottom of his heart, and sighed in grief of
heart, 'O my Lord, I have vexed Thee, have pity upon me, and forgive me so that I may
enjoy a little rest.' Then a voice came to him, which said, 'Thy sins have been forgiven
thee, and also the murder of the woman; but the murder of the child is not yet forgiven
thee.' And one of the old men said, 'The murder of the child also was forgiven to him, but
God left him to work because this would prove beneficial to his soul.'

CHAPTER 40. OF COSMAS WHO WAS IN MOUNT SINAI

1 A certain brother asked an old man, and said unto him, 'How is it that Satan bringeth
temptations upon holy men?' And the old man said, 'I have heard that there was a holy man
whose name was Cosmas, who used to dwell in Mount Sinai. And behold, a certain man went to
the tabernacle (or tent) of a husbandman, and finding his daughter by herself, he lay with
her, and then said to her, When thy father cometh say unto him, Abbâ Cosmas, the monk,
hath lain with me'; and when her father came, she told him [thus]. Then he took his sword,
and came against the old man, and when he had knocked at the door, and the old man had
gone forth, he lifted up his sword to slay him, but his hand withered straightway; and he
went to the church and told the people there what the old man had done. And the fathers
sent after him and brought him there, and having upbraided him, and beaten him with many
stripes they wished to drive him out of the monastery; but he entreated them, saying,
"Allow 'me [to stay] here that I may repent, for God's sake," and they separated him [from
the brotherhood] for three years, and they laid down the command that no man was to go to
him.

2 And he passed three years in coming [to the church] Sunday by Sunday, and in repenting,
and he besought [the fathers] always to pray for him, and at length the devil entered into
him that had committed the act of which the old man had been accused, and, being urged by
him, he said, "I committed 'the act. Then all the people were gathered together, and they
went to the old man and expressed their penitence, and said unto him, "Forgive us, O
father"; and he said unto them, "I have indeed forgiven you, but it is impossible for me
to remain with you henceforth, because I have not found in any 'one of you discretion
sufficient to make him to sympathize with me. And so he departed from them. Behold, how
temptations come upon holy men!

CHAPTER 41. OF ABBA MACARIUS WHO WAS ACCUSED OF COMMITTING FORNICATION

1 Abba Macarius used to tell a story about himself, and to say that when he was a boy he
dwelt in a certain cell in Egypt, and that the people came and made him the priest in the
village, and that as he did not wish to receive [the office of priest] he fled to another
place, and took up his abode in a cell which was not very far from the habitations of man.
And a certain young man who feared God used to come and take away the work of the hands of
the blessed man, and to minister unto him. And it came to pass that, as a result of
temptation, a certain virgin in the village fell into iniquity (?), and conceived a child,
and the folk said unto her, "By whom art thou with child?" And she said, "By that monk who
liveth in the desert"; and they went out, and brought him into their village, and smote
him sorely, and they hung round his neck black pots, and the ears (handles) of empty pans,
and they made him to go round about through the markets of their village, and they mocked
at him and buffeted him, and said, "This is the monk who hath seduced our 'daughter! Let
him be hanged! Let him be hanged!" And they beat him [nearly] to death.

2 Then came one of the old men of the village and said [unto them], "How long will ye go
on beating this monk who is a stranger?" and the man who ministered unto him came after
him, and he was ashamed and pained because of his disgrace; and the people fastened their
gaze upon him, and said, "Behold the monk concerning whom thou didst bear witness and say
that he was a 'holy man.'" "Consider what he hath done," said the parents of the young
woman, "and unless he giveth us a surety who will provide for her food we will not release
him." Then he said unto the man who ministered unto him, "Give a pledge on my behalf,
saying, 'I will provide for that'; and he gave a pledge for him, and then the monk went to
his cell and gave him all the palm-leaf mats thereof, and said to him, Sell these and give
[the money] to my wife that she may eat." For Macarius said in his mind, "Behold, thou
hast found for thyself a wife, and it is necessary for thee to work little or much that
thou mayest feed her"; so he worked by night and by day, and sent [the proceeds of his
toil] to her.

3 And it came to pass that, when the time for the woman to bring forth her child arrived,
she suffered very severely for many days, and [although] she was in great tribulation she
did not give birth to the child; and when her parents saw this they said unto her, "What
is this which hath happened unto thee? Then the woman, by reason of her pains and
sufferings, said, "This has happened because I told a lie and falsely accused a monk who
never touched me"; now it was such and such a youth who had done this thing to her. And
when the man who ministered unto Macarius learned this, he came to him with gladness, and
he rejoiced and said unto him, "The virgin was not able to bring forth until she confessed
and said, 'The monk never touched me, and what I have said about him is a falsehood,' and
behold, all the village is preparing to come to thee with repentance so that thou mayest
forgive them. And Macarius, in order that he might not be troubled by them, rose up
straightway, and fled, and departed to the place wherein he had his abode at that time,
and this is the reason why he came to Scete; and he said, "I hate the love of praise of
young men who toil, and who have no reward, because they expect the adulation of the
children of men.

4 Then another well-known old man said unto him, "And it is not greatly acceptable unto
me, but it is better that they should work for praise rather than they should despise
[it], for it always constraineth those who love praise to lead lives of abstinence, and to
keep vigil, and to live in nakedness for the sake of vainglory, and to bear afflictions
for the sake of praise. Then after these things the Grace of God came to them and spake,
saying, "Wherefore do ye not toil for My sake? And why do ye toil for the sake of children
of men? And they were convinced that they must not expect the praise of men but that of
God, and when the brethren heard [this] they said, "Verily the matter is indeed thus."

CHAPTER 42. OF A CERTAIN OLD MAN WHO IN HIS SIMPLICITY SAID THAT MELCHISEDEK WAS THE SON OF GOD

And Abbá Daniel told a story of another old man who used to live in the lower countries of
Egypt, and who said in his simplicity that Melchisedek was the Son of God. Now, when this
became known unto the blessed man Theophilus, the Archbishop of Alexandria, he sent a
message that [the monks] should bring the old man to him, and when he saw him, he
perceived that he was a seer of visions, and that everything which he had asked God for He
gave him, and that he spake these words in his simplicity. And the Archbishop dealt with
him wisely in the following manner, saying, "Father, entreat thou God [for me], because my
thoughts tell me that Melchisedek was the Son of God." And he said to him likewise, "It
cannot be thus, for the high priest of God was a man. And now, because I had doubts in my
mind concerning this, I sent for thee that thou mightest make supplication unto God that
He may reveal to thee the matter." Then, because the old man had confidence in his
labours, he spake unto him boldly, saying, "Wait three days, and I will enquire of God,
and then I shall be able to inform thee who Melchisedek was." So the old man departed, and
came [again] after three days, and said unto the blessed Archbishop Theophilus,
"Melchisedek was a man"; and the Archbishop said unto him, "How knowest thou, father?" And
the old man said, "God showed me all the Patriarchs, one by one, and they passed before me
one after the other, from Adam to Melchisedek, and an angel said to me, 'This is
Melchisedek'; know then that of a truth the matter is as it hath appeared unto me." And
the old man departed, and he himself proclaimed that Melchisedek was a man, and the
blessed Theophilus rejoiced greatly.

CHAPTER 43. OF ABBA MACARIUS THE EGYPTIAN, THE DISCIPLE OF MAR ANTHONY

1 Abba Macarius used to dwell by himself in the desert, and there was below him another
desert wherein many dwelt; and the old man was himself watching the road one day, and saw
Satan travelling on it in the form of a man, 273 and he came along with the intention of
passing him; and he was arrayed in a garment, which was full of holes, and various fruits
were hanging about him. And the old man Macarius said unto him, "Whither goest thou?" And
he said, "I am going to visit the brethren, and to make them mindful [of their work]." And
the old man said to him, "For what purpose are the various fruits which are on thee
required?" And Satan answered and said, "I am carrying them to the brethren for food." And
the old man said, "All these?" And Satan said, "Yea. For it one pleaseth not a brother, I
hand him over another; and if that pleaseth him not, I give him another, and one or other
of these must certainly please him." And having said these things Satan went on his way.

2 Then the old man continued to watch the road until Satan came along to return, and when
he saw him, he said unto him, "Hast thou been successful?" And Satan said, "Whence am I to
obtain help?" And the old man said, "For what purpose?" Then Satan said, "They have all
forsaken me, and have rebelled against me, and not one of them will allow himself to be
overpersuaded by me." And the old man said, "Hast thou not then one friend left there?"
And Satan said to him, "Yea, I have one brother, but one only who will be persuaded by me,
although whensoever he seeth me he turneth away his face as from that of an adversary."
The old man saith to him, "What is the name of this brother?" And Satan saith,
"Theopemptus"; and having said these things he departed and went on his way. 3 Then Abbâ
Macarius rose up and went down to the lower desert, and the brethren heard [of his
coming], and they brought palm leaves, and went out to meet him, and every monk prepared
and made ready his abode, thinking that he would come and dwell there; but the old man
[only] asked for the brother whose name was Theopemptus, and he received him joyfully. Now
when the brethren began to speak among themselves, the old man said unto him, "What hast
thou to say, O my brother, and how are thine own affairs?" And Theopemptus said to him,
"At the present moment matters are well with me," for he was ashamed to speak. The old man
said unto him, "Behold, I have now lived a life of stern asceticism for many years, and I
am held in honour by every man, nevertheless, even though I am an old man, the spirit of
fornication disturbeth me." And Theopemptus answered and said, "Believe me, father, [it
disturbeth] me also"; and the old man, like one who was vexed by many thoughts, made a
reason for talking, and at length he led the brother to confess the matter. And afterwards
he said unto him, "How long dost thou fast?" And the brother said unto Macarius, "Until
the ninth hour." And the old man saith, "Fast until the evening, and continue to do so,
and thou shalt repeat passages from the Book of the Gospels, and from the other
Scriptures. If a thought riseth in thy mind let not thy mind look downwards, but always
upwards, and the Lord shall help thee." Thus having made the brother reveal his thoughts,
and having given him encouragement, he departed to go to his own desert, and he travelled
along the road and watched according to his custom.

4 And he saw the devil again, and said unto him, "Whither goest thou?" And he answered and
said unto him, "I go to remind the brethren [of their work]." And having departed and come
back again, the holy man said unto him, "How are the brethren?" and the devil said, "They
are in evil case." And the old man said, "Why?" and the devil said, "Because they are all
[like] savage animals, and they are rebellious. But the worst thing of all is that even
the one brother who used to be obedient to me hath turned, through what cause I know not,
and he will not be in any way persuaded by me, and he is the most savage of them all
against me; I have on this account taken an oath that I will never again go to that place,
at least, only after a very long time."

5 Now this Abbâ Macarius was marvellous in his life and deeds. Once as he was travelling
along in the inner desert, he looked, and, behold, there was an old man coming towards
him, and he was arrayed in apparel which was very old, and over his whole body there were
hung very many things which were like unto pots, each one being provided with rings, and
he was covering them over as it were with a covering. And he drove his staff into the
ground, and though he was as timid and as terrified as a fugitive slave, he pretended to
be bold, and stood up like a brave man, and spake to the blessed Macarius, face to face,
saying, "What dost thou in this wilderness, and why art thou wandering hither and thither
herein?" And the blessed Macarius answered and said unto him, "I wish to find God, for I
am fleeing from error. But who art thou, O old man? Tell me, for I observe that thy
raiment is very different from that of the children of men. Tell me, now, what are these
things which thou hast upon thee?" Then the old man, though unwilling, confessed and said,
"I am he whom thou callest by the name of 'Calumniator,' and these things which thou seest
upon me are those wherewith I draw towards myself the children of men, and with each one
of these, according as it befitteth and is suitable for a man, I take care to fulfil the
work of error; and by means of their lusts, as with wings, I make to turn backwards those
who are obedient unto

6 275 18a me, and I have great happiness in those who, through my crafts and wiles,
stumble and fall." 7 And when the blessed Macarius had heard these things, he plucked up
courage, and said unto Satan, "By Christ, Who caused thee to make a mockery of the holy
angels, explain to me, one by one, each and all of the things which thou carriest, for by
this thou shalt be revealed, so that a man may see the insidiousness of thy arts and
wiles, and may learn thy hidden snares, and may recognize the multitude of the burning
arrows of thine error, and may flee from the performance of thy will. Then the Calumniator
answered and said, "I must reveal unto thee my craftiness, even though I be unwilling so
to do, for it is impossible for me to hide from thee any of the things which thou seest;
learn thou the use (or reason) of each pot. If I find a man who meditateth continually on
the Law of God, I pour out upon him from the pot which is on my head dizziness and
headache, and I restrain him [from this work] thereby. On the man who hath chosen to watch
by means of [the recital of] prayers and psalms I pour out from the pot which is on my
eyelids a disposition to sleep, and I lead and drive him along by main force into slumber.
These which thou seest that I have on my ears are prepared for disobedience and the
transgression of the Commandments, and by their means I trap those who wish to lead a good
life to disobey the word of truth.

8 From those which hang from my nose I sprinkle on the young the sweet smell of happiness,
and lead them into fornication. From those which are on my mouth I throw out flowers (?),
and I incite the ascetic by means of blandishments, and I make to sin those who live a
life of abstinence and self-denial by means of such dainty meats and foods according to my
desire; and by means of those which are on my mouth I also draw many into the utterance of
calumnies, and into filthy talk, and to speak briefly, in each one of these pots is the
seed which is most useful for increasing the fruits which are worthy of me, and which may
be gathered from the labours of the husbandmen who labour in my vineyard. And from the
pots which are hung about my neck I pour out pride, and I enclose with my nets those who
are haughty in their minds; and so by means of all these I possess in the world multitudes
of subjects who love the things which are mine, that is to say, worldly praise and wealth,
which are the things that, by those who are remote from God, are believed to be good
things in the world.

9 "And the pots which thou seest hanging from my breasts are full of my imaginings, and
with some of these I water the hearts of the children of men, and by means of the
drunkenness of the passions I dissipate and destroy the mind which feareth God; and
through my error I confound the memory of those men who wish to meditate upon and to think
about the things which concern the world to come. And those which hang upon my body are
full of want of feeling and perception, and by their means I prepare those who are without
understanding to live in a savage and animal manner a life which is characterized by
various kinds of brutish habits. And in the pots which I carry below my body will be found
all things which are useful and suitable for union with women in fornication, and for
filthy wantonness. Those which are on my hands are useful in the committal of murders, and
by their means, as by hands, is carried out and performed the work of those who are
subject unto me voluntarily. And the pots which thou seest hanging from my neck and back
have in them the thick darkness of my temptations, wherewith I am able to vanquish those
who are so bold as to contend against me; and I lay ambushes behind me, and I rush out to
overthrow those who depend upon and who boast in their own strength.

10 And the pots which thou seest hanging on my loins and thighs, and which are arranged
downwards to my feet, are full of the snares and nets which I pour out, and with which I
make crooked and confound the ways of those who wish to journey in the narrow path of the
fear of God; and I impede thereby the goings of those who cultivate ascetic excellence,
and I make them to journey on my way which is easy to travel. For I take my seat between
the two ways of life and death, and whilst I confound and lead astray those who wish to
journey in the way of life, I lead and help on their way those who are travelling on the
road of death, and I strengthen them also, and I make them valiant so that they may go
forward easily in my paths. And when they are bowed down and labour under my yoke I sow
evil and abominable vices among them like thorns and brambles, and having gathered in from
seed of this kind the fruit of such crops which they believe to be pleasant, they deny the
way of truth, because evil men are taken in the snares of the filthiness of abominable
things. But thou, O Macarius, hast never once inclined thyself to obey me, so that by
thine obedience I might be able to find even a little consolation;

11 but thou burnest me up wholly by means of the mighty armour of the humility which thou
bearest, and for this reason I haste to depart to mine own subjects. For thou possessest a
good Lord, and thou hast mighty companions, who tranquilly and happily serve God, and who
protect thee as a beloved son." 12 And when the chosen athlete had heard these things, he
made the sign of the Cross over himself, and said, "Blessed be God, Who hath made those
who have put their hopes in Him to make thee a mockery and a laughing-stock, and Who hath
preserved me wholly and completely from thy error, so that whilst turning aside from the
same I was able to advance in the good fight; and having fought and conquered I shall
receive a crown from the good Lord Whom I possess. Flee then, and get thee afar off, O
thou who art envious of the things which are good, for Christ will make an end of thee, so
that thou mayest not dare to attack any of those who worship Him. For sufficient for thee
are those whom thou hast drawn unto thyself by flattery, through thy evil wiles and their
own sluggish will, and made to travel on the flat, wide road of destruction. Thou shalt
not then dare to draw nigh unto those who of their own will have elected to travel in the
narrow, and straight, and troubled, and vexatious way of life, but have fear, and depart
from those who dwell in waste places and in deserts." Now when the blessed man had said
these things, straightway the Calumniator disappeared, and the holy man Macarius bowed the
knee, and prayed, saying, "Glory be unto Thee, O Christ, Thou Who art the Refuge of those
who are overtaken by storms, Thou Who art the straight way of those who err, Thou who art
the Redeemer of those who flee unto Thee for refuge, now, always, and for ever and ever!
Amen."

CHAPTER 44. OF ABBA MARK THE LESS, THE DISCIPLE OF ABBA SYLVANUS

They used to say concerning Abbâ Sylvanus that he wished to depart to Syria, and his
disciple Mark said unto him, "Not only do I not wish thee to depart from this place, O
father, but I will not permit thee to go [now]; wait then here for three days more"; and
on the third day Mark died in peace.

CHAPTER 45. OF ABBA PAULE THE SIMPLE, THE DISCIPLE OF MAR ANTHONY

1 The blessed man, Paule the Simple, the disciple of the holy man Anthony, used to relate
to the fathers the following matter:—I once went to a certain monastery that I might visit
the brethren for profit spiritually, and after some conversation on the matter, and the
customary talk, they went into the holy church that they might form a congregation as
usual, and perform the service of the Holy Mysteries. And the blessed Paule looked at and
scrutinized carefully each one of them, so that he might see in what frame of mind he was
going, for he had the gift, which had been given unto him by God, of looking into the soul
of every man, and of knowing what his soul was like, even as we have the power of looking
upon the faces of each other. And he saw that every man was going in with a glorious
aspect of soul, and with face full of light, and that the angel of each man was rejoicing
in him, with the exception of one whose face was sick and afflicted, and whose whole body
was in darkness, and devils had hold upon each of his hands, and they were lifting him up
and dragging him towards them, and they had put a ring in his nose; and he saw also that
the holy angel of this man was a long way from him, and that he followed after him sadly
and sorrowfully.

2 And when the blessed Paule saw these things he wept, and smote himself upon the breast
many times, and he sat down before the church, and he cried unceasingly for the man who
had appeared unto him in this state. Now those who saw the old man became greatly
astonished suddenly, and especially at his swift change [from happiness] to weeping and
tears, and they asked him, and entreated him, and begged him to tell them what he had
seen, for they thought that, though blaming them, he would do so, and they besought him
also, with one voice, to go into the congregation with them. But Paule drove them away
from him, and he would not let himself be persuaded to do this, so he sat down outside the
church and held his peace, and he cried aloud and groaned loudly concerning that which had
appeared to him. 3 And after a short time, when the service was ended, and all the fathers
were coming out, Paule scrutinized carefully each one of them, so that he might see in
what manner would come out those whom he had seen go in, and whether it would be with the
same countenance as that wherewith they had gone in, or otherwise. And he saw again that
man whom he had seen go in, and whose body before he had entered into the church was in
darkness, and behold, he came forth from the church with his face full of light, and his
body was white, and the devils followed him at a great distance, and his guardian angel
was quite close to him, and walked with him; and he was glad and rejoiced greatly over
that man. Then the holy man Paule leaped up, and stood there glad and rejoicing, and he
cried out and blessed God, saying, "Hail to the overflowing mercy of God! Hail to the
immeasurable goodness! Hail to His rich treasuries! Hail to His pleasure, which is beyond
measure! And he ran up and stood upon a lofty platform, and cried out with a loud voice,
saying, "Come ye, and see how awful are the works of God, and how greatly they are worthy
of admiration! Come ye, and see Him Who wisheth that all the children of men should live,
and should turn to the knowledge of the truth!

4 Come, let us kneel and worship Him, and say, 'Thou art He Who alone is able to forgive
sins.'" Therefore all the fathers ran diligently so that they might hear what he was
saying. And when they had all gathered together, the holy man Paule related unto them the
things which he had seen both when they went into the church, and when each one of them
came out; and they entreated that brother [to tell them] what was the reason of that
complete change, and of the gladness which God bestowed upon him [so] quickly. 5 And the
man, being afraid lest he might be rebuked by the blessed Paule, related the following
things concerning himself before them all, and without any concealment whatsoever, and
said, "I am a sinful man, and for a long time past, even unto the present day, I lived in
fornication. When I went into the church, I heard the [Book of] the Prophet Isaiah read,
that is to say, I heard God speaking through him, and saying, Wash, and be clean, and
remove your evil deeds from before Mine eyes. Hate the things which are evil, and learn to
do good, seek out judgement, and pass [righteous] sentences upon those who are afflicted.
And if your sins be red like crimson, they shall become white as snow. And if ye are
willing to hearken unto Me, ye shall eat of the good things of the earth."

6 "Now when I had heard read [these] words from the Prophet, that is to say, had heard God
Who was speaking by him, I forthwith repented in my soul sincerely, and sighing in my
heart I said unto God, Thou art the God Who didst come into the world to make sinners to
live, do Thou then make manifest in me the things which Thou hast promised in Thy Prophet,
and fulfil them in me, even though I be unworthy of the same, for I am a sinner. For
behold, I promise, and I enter into a covenant with Thee, and I will thrust this promise
down into my soul, and will acknowledge [it], that from now and henceforth I will never
commit such wickedness as this, but I will keep myself remote from all iniquity, and I
will serve Thee from this day onwards with a clean conscience. Therefore, O Master, from
this day, and from this hour, accept me, for I am penitent; and I will make supplication
unto Thee, and will remove myself forthwith from all sin. Therefore with such promises and
covenants as these I came forth from the church, and I determined in my soul that I would
never again do anything which would injure [my] fear of Him"; and when all the fathers
heard [this], they all cried out with a loud voice, and said unto God, "O Lord, how great
are Thy works! Thou hast created all of them in wisdom."

7 Now therefore, O Christians, since we know from the Holy Scriptures and from divine
revelations how great is the grace which God dispenseth to those who truly run to Him for
refuge, and who blot out their former sins by means of repentance, and also how, according
to His promise, He rewardeth with good things, and doth neither take vengeance according
to what is just, nor bring upon men a punishment for their former sins, let us not be in
despair of our lives. For, even as He promised by the hand of Isaiah the Prophet, He will
make clean those who have toiled in sin, and will make them bright and white like clean
wool and snow, and will make them to be happy with the blessings of heaven. And moreover,
God asserteth with oaths by the hand of the Prophet Ezekiel that He doth not desire their
destruction, for He saith, "As I live, saith the Lord, I do not desire the death of a
sinner, but that he should turn from his evil way and live" (Ezekiel xxxiii, 11).

8 The following table provides the information in a specific format:


THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, BOHAIRIC COPTIC VERSION
============================================

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, BOHAIRIC COPTIC VERSION Palladius of Galatia

c. AD 363–420

The Bohairic Coptic form of Palladius’s history of the desert monks: his letter to Lausus
and the lives of Pambo, Evagrius and other fathers of Egypt. It differs in places from the
Greek text.

BOHAIRIC LAUSIAC HISTORY - PART 1

1 The letter written to Lausus, the servant of Christ. In the peace of God: amen. Oh, how
blessed is your purpose! Indeed, it is fitting that I begin the letter by proclaiming you
blessed: for the mouths of all are open to vain things and building houses for themselves
which they do not enjoy. But you now desire to be taught the truly just words of your holy
father. For no one is untaught, except for the one who is the God of all things, that is,
the holy and consubstantial Trinity; for it alone exists, and nothing is more excellent
than this one divinity, this one kingdom. All other things, whether heavenly or earthly,
must necessarily be taught, since they are created things and creatures of God. The first
order, that is, the angels, are taught by the holy and consubstantial Trinity; those of
the second order are taught by those of the first; those of the third order receive
instruction from the second; and in this way all are instructed according to their rank
until you reach the last. For those who excel in knowledge and virtue teach those who are
inferior in virtues and true knowledge. All those who say, “We do not need to be taught,”
or who do not submit in their hearts to those who teach, suffer from the disease of
ignorance, which is the mother of pride. This pride was loved by those who, from the
beginning, were prepared for destruction, those who were cast down from heaven, having
been led astray by the pride of their own hearts, they did not subject themselves to those
superior in virtue, but fled from their heavenly teachers.

2 Be attentive, with a vigilant mind, to what I write; for these are not mere words or
syllables of knowledge, as even the wicked among men possess those. Rather, this is true
knowledge: to understand and preserve good thoughts and humility, to avoid anger and
disturbance, to think no evil, and to fully rejoice in the liberty before God, which
brings forth the Word in the heart, like a flashing fire. For the Word of God is a
consuming fire, as Paul says. If the Word had not existed, the Good Master would not have
said to His disciples: “Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart.” He did not
adorn His words in a philosophical manner for His holy apostles but instructed them in the
service of God, sharp understanding, and every precept of truth, wishing to sadden no one
except those who hated the Word and despised their teachers. For the soul that practices
asceticism in Christ and does not know how to be taught with understanding or to teach
what it has firmly learned should be understood to be suffering from madness. From God,
indeed, comes the beginning of apostasy when a person fills their heart neither desiring
nor acting according to the Word of God. However, the mind of one who loves God hungers
for the Word at all times until the very end of their spirit. Be strengthened, therefore,
and act courageously, and may the Lord Jesus Christ grant you grace in true knowledge.

3 Farewell in the Lord: amen. The life of holy men, written to Lausus, the servant of
Jesus Christ. Many over time have endeavored to write numerous explanations, not to gain
glory for themselves, but so that through them the world might see external matters. Some,
indeed, by the heavenly inspiration that God granted them, taught and consolidated those
things for the edification of humanity, which faithfully fulfills the commands and
mandates of our Savior Jesus Christ, the Son of God the Father, with unchanging faith.
Others, however, driven by the corrupt intention of pleasing men, loved material gain and
left their explanations in words, providing comfort to those who pursue pleasure and
anger, who love power, who love riches, but not the poor, until they destroy those who
boast of knowledge while their understanding is blind in necessity - which is all of the
heretic schismatics. All those who have stained the happy and catholic Church, which
remains free from blemish throughout its entire life, by injecting evil words of
philosophy into the hearts of men without understanding, so that their lives might be
destroyed far from purity. It has also pleased me, a poor and humble man, who reveres the
command of your piety, your service to God, and the progress of your thoughts, to teach
you these things. From my youth until this time, spanning thirty-three years, I have
confessed to leading the life of brothers, becoming a monk among them in ascetic
practices. And for these past twenty years, I have served in the episcopate.

4 Now, for these five years, I desire to teach you about pure and glorious works and all
the virtues of the elders, which I have seen with my eyes and heard with my ears from
faithful Fathers in the desert of Egypt, in Libya, and from those who were in Upper Egypt,
in Syene, in the places inhabited by the Tabennesiotes, and in Mesopotamia, Syria,
Palestine, and the West, in Rome, in Campania, and in the inland regions. With all the
fervor of my heart, I have striven to direct my attention to writing this book for you,
from the beginnings of the monastic works that arose in the desert, so that it might be a
mirror in which you see your reflection and remember it day and night for the salvation of
your soul. For it is so full of glory and divine medicine that it will even cast out the
domination of concupiscence from you, as well as the duplicity of the heart, the softness
caused by the abundance of the riches of this world, all sloth, all affliction of the
heart, all disturbance, faint-heartedness, and unrelenting anger. In this way, you will
become one who progresses in the thought of God and sincere piety, becoming a guide for
yourself and for those who are with you, as well as for those who will come to you, and
for pious kings. From the teachings and words of these ascetics, that is, the holy elders,
let those who love Christ hasten to unite themselves to God according to virtue and
undivided love, expecting at all times the departure of their souls from their bodies, as
it is written: “It is better for me to be dissolved from this flesh so that I may be with
Christ.”

5 And again: “Prepare your works for the departure of your soul from the body.” For
whoever places their own death before their eyes at all times will not admit many sins.
For they will not forget the commandments and precepts of God, nor will they disdain our
humble prayer, which is neither clear enough nor adorned with the wisdom of this world.
For we are simple people and have not received the wisdom of this world (and so much the
better for us). It is not right to adorn the holy knowledge of incomprehensible divinity
and infinite glory with the polluted philosophy of the wisdom of this world, which is full
of baseness and all evil. How could it be just to adorn Him who cannot be adorned—that is,
God—with the wisdom of this world, when He Himself adorns all His creatures? But let us
persuade the hearts of people much more toward the knowledge of God, in subtle
understanding, so that they may see the Spirit of the Lord, who resides in the words of
truth. For Scripture, unless it is understood, kills. Ⲃut the Spirit gives life, if you
see the words in the right way, as it is written: “Open your mouth to the Word of God, and
learn.” Again, Scripture says: “Do not be incredulous of the words of the elders, for they
were taught by the Fathers who lived before them.”

6 I too, O man of God, lover of knowledge, walked according to the precepts of the elders,
and encountered many elders on my path. I did this not out of laziness but from the fervor
of my heart. I walked for thirty days, and then I walked again, traveling on foot until I
had traversed the entire Roman region. I loved the hardships of the body and the pains of
the journey, not in vain, but to meet pious men and gain from their contemplation what I
had not yet attained. For if a certain man, far greater than I, whose resolve was
unchanging, walked from Tarsus to Judea to meet Peter, James, and John, and gloried in his
sufferings, inspiring zeal in all the lazy and slothful, saying, “I went to Jerusalem to
see Peter,”— for he did not merely content himself with hearing about the external virtues
of the apostles but desired also to see their appearance, reputation, life, and
instruction— For this reason he strove until he saw Peter.

7 How much more must I, who am a debtor of ten thousand talents, find it necessary to
narrate what I have seen regarding our holy Fathers? I speak the truth, I do not lie—not
as though I am bringing benefit to the Fathers, but for the sole benefit of my soul and
anyone who hears of their sufferings and exercises. For those who wrote books about our
Fathers, from Adam to Abraham, and about those who followed up to the present day as found
in the Scriptures, did not write to bring glory to those about whom they wrote but to
provide benefit to those who would read, so that they might emulate their lives.
Therefore, knowing these things, O faithful and venerable servant of Christ, Lausus,
strengthen yourself in the meditation of the holy books, and receive my verbosity, which
is presented before you, so that you may preserve holy thoughts. The movements of
depravity, which are like the waves of the sea foaming and rising against us, should be
cast far away from us through prayer and attentiveness. Many are the lives of these holy
and pious brothers, each of whom engaged in a different work: yet all shared one faith and
one Spirit, working in all their endeavors. For just as in a garden there are many trees,
each bearing different fruits, but all watered by the same source, so these holy elders
were adorned with different virtues: one with mercy, another with ascetic practices,
another with bodily afflictions, another with self-denial, another with humility.

8 In sum, they excelled in every work of virtue, transforming their way of life and their
faith into glory, urging themselves onward to the meditation on divine teachings and an
exceptional love through mutual encouragement. Some indeed strove toward these virtues
but, lacking discernment, failed to attain them because they practiced these virtues to
please men and to accuse their brothers, rushing toward good works out of emulation for
works that were not good. In this way, they corrupted good works through pride, the mother
of ignorance. Therefore, hurry, my brother, to present yourself as a temple of God. Do
not, as you once did, build yourself another house from wealth, but rather let the desire
for silver abandon you, and you abandon it. Let the purse, which is consumed by moths,
depart from you, and instead acquire for yourself treasures that thieves do not dig
through. Spend these on the poor and the needy, take up your cross, and follow the Lord.
For in this way, you will acquire all virtues and guard yourself from corruptible human
vanity. Do not bind your freedom with the imprudence of an arrogant oath, saying, “I will
not drink, I will not eat,” as some men have done who followed such a way of acting. For
they fell into passions of hesitation and pleasures until they broke their oath.
Therefore, if you eat, eat according to your will; if you refrain from eating, refrain
according to your ability without making an oath, and may you never sin.

9 For the intelligence that resides in us is divine, fighting against the harmful
movements of the evil spirit battling against us—that is, our thoughts—driving out those
that are harmful and bringing in those that benefit us. For the law is not placed upon the
righteous, for they are united with God, and the Lord Himself is their law. It is better,
therefore, to drink wine with good judgment than to drink water with pride. Consider those
righteous ones who drank wine with good judgment, and do not regard as images of demons
those who drink water with improper thoughts. I am not one to criticize or judge, for the
one who eats, eats to the Lord and gives thanks to the Lord; and the one who does not eat,
does not eat to the Lord and gives thanks to God. But it is very important that a person's
affliction be carried out rationally, lest they fall into the mockery of demons. I do not
criticize food, nor do I exalt it with praise, but rather the judgment that receives food
with good counsel. Those who receive good food I consider weak and ignorant. Look at the
blessed Joseph: he drank wine with good judgment in the land of Egypt, but his mind was
not changed, nor was his discipline corrupted. For his heart was steadfast, and his
master's wife could not deceive him into defilement. On the other hand, philosophers such
as Pythagoras, Diogenes, Plato, and the Manichees who originated from them, and all the
groups of false sages, drank water and committed such great sins of this kind that they
forgot God and worshiped impure idols.

10 Those in the house of Peter and all the disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ also drank
wine with Him, so much so that the Jews murmured against the Master, saying: “Why do your
disciples not fast like John's disciples?” But the Lord rebuked their foolishness, saying:
“The sons of the bridegroom cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them,” meaning that
He Himself, who dwelt in their minds and good counsel, was present with them. Again, they
rebuked His disciples, saying: “Why does your teacher eat and drink with publicans and
sinners?” They did not criticize in vain only because He truly ate and drank. The Lord
Jesus Christ answered them: “John the Baptist came to you neither eating nor drinking, and
you said, ‘He has a demon’ (for he did not eat meat nor drink wine, though no one can live
in the body without eating food or drinking water); The Son of Man came eating and
drinking, and you say, ‘Behold a man who eats and drinks, who is a friend of publicans and
sinners.’”

11 Thus, Wisdom was fulfilled by its deeds. What then do you think we should do? Let us
follow neither those who heap praises on us nor those who criticize us, but let us follow
John the Baptist, let us fast intelligently with him, even if they say, “He has a demon.”
And let us drink wine and eat fish with Christ in thanksgiving and with good counsel if
our flesh is weak or in need, even if they say, “Behold, men who eat meat and drink wine.”
For not eating is nothing, but what matters is right faith, which is required of you, and
the observance of the commandments, which is made evident through good works. If,
therefore, every good work we do for God is accompanied by faith—whether eating, drinking,
or any other act—such works cannot be condemned because of right faith. However, any work
done apart from faith is sin. But since there are those who eat with passion and
indulgence, saying, “We eat with faith,” and who do not eat according to the measure of
sufficiency but with insatiable greed, how shall we discern them? Certainly, we will
recognize them, for Christ, our Savior, says: “You will know them by their fruits.” The
fruits of those who strive in righteousness are, as the Apostle says: love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, and self-control.

12 These are the fruits of the Spirit. But whoever desires these fruits will not desire to
eat meat or drink wine imprudently or carelessly, nor will they find satisfaction in a
guilty conscience. Paul reproves such a person, saying: “Whoever competes abstains from
all things.” If, therefore, our flesh is healthy, one will abstain from all things; But if
their body suffers from illness or pain, or if they are in sorrow, they will eat and drink
so that food and drink may serve as remedies for the illness, pain, or sorrow within them,
enabling them to endure the affliction of the body. However, they will abstain from those
things that harm the soul, such as anger, envy, vanity, hatred, jealousy, insult, and
pride in the sight of God and His angels. And while they endure this bodily affliction,
they will give thanks to God at all times. Now I will conclude my discourse with you on
these matters: it is sufficient. I also ask, for the sake of your love of knowledge, that
you avoid associating with people from whom no benefit comes, nor follow the pattern of
their lives or leadership. For they decorate the exterior, like a skin that is clean only
on the outside, but not the interior. If they say, “Our faith is right,” and if you
examine them with your understanding to see whether the fruits of true faith are present
in them, then you may associate with them.

13 But if they are heretics, offering harm through their appearance and hypocrisy—even if
their hair is white and their faces show the marks of old age—if they do not bear the
fruits of God, avoid their company. Even if you say, “They will not harm me,” because of
the strength of your piety, do not let them weaken your fervor, nor make yourself proud
before them, nor mock them. For they will attack your conscience with their blasphemous
words and destroy your soul with evil and blasphemous speech. Therefore, now consider them
with clear speech and mind. Associate with holy men, seek them out, and receive grace for
your soul from them so that, like reading books, you may see whether your heart is
steadfast or not. From the sight of holy men, their gracious countenance, and their aged,
honorable hair, from their humble clothing and lack of pride, from their words full of
piety, from their readings and grace, which reside in their understanding, you may draw
great strength, even if you have been negligent. For a person's clothing, the manner of
their dress, their gait, and the way they laugh reveal what kind of person they are, as it
is written in Scripture. When I begin to tell you the lives of our Fathers, I will omit no
place into which I have entered to instruct you—neither those who dwell in cities, nor in
villages, nor in the desert, nor those who live only briefly among others.

14 For we do not seek the places or the people who dwell in them, but rather their
character and their choice for God.

BOHAIRIC LAUSIAC HISTORY - PART 2

1 Concerning Abba Pambo. A certain man was seen on Mount Pernoudj, whom they called apa
Pambo. He was second only to Abba Antony, and they call him apa Pamo ἀληθινόν (that is,
“the truthful”), of whose virtues all the brothers bear witness. I did not meet him in my
time, but the brothers told me that this man had never lied, nor spouted evil from his
mouth, nor, since becoming a monk, taken an oath nor cursed, nor had he spoken a word
unless it was necessary. He had a wife and two sons who did not want to become monks. When
he had come to the brothers, he approached an elder and said to him: “Teach me a psalm”;
for he was illiterate. 2 The elder began to teach him this psalm: “I said: I will guard my
ways, so that I may not sin with my tongue;” And when the elder had recited the earlier
words, he restrained him, saying: “My father, unless I learn the first verse, I will not
study the second.” And when Abba Pamo had returned to his cell, he spent eight years so
that he might accomplish through his actions what he had learned in words. For he would
not go to anyone, saying: Unless I first master my tongue, I will not approach anyone,
lest my tongue should cause me to fall. After spending eight years, he returned to the
elder from whom he had first learned the verse, and the elder said to him: “Pamo, why have
I not seen you until now? Have you not yet learned the psalm?” Apa Pamo replied: “Since I
have not learned the first verse, I have not come to you to learn the second, for until
now God has not granted me to learn it. And so, lest I seem to despise you, father, I have
come to you. But when I recite this first verse, I will come to you again.”

3 And when he had returned to his cell, he spent another ten years and did not visit him.
Thus, on this mountain, the blessed Abba Pamo instructed Abba Dioscorus to become a
bishop, as well as Abba Ammon, Abba John, and the nephew of Abba Dracontius, the bishop in
the village of Hor. Therefore, Abba Pamo was a man who inspired admiration, for his
virtues and practices were of the highest order. But most admirable of all was that he
despised gold and silver, as it is written. Blessed Melania once told me this about him:
“When I had first gone from Rome to Alexandria, Abba Isidore, the priest of Abba Pamo,
recounted his virtues to me. I, in turn, entreated him with my prayers to show me the way
to the desert place where Abba Pamo dwelled, so that I might see him. When he led me to
the mountain and brought me to the place of that Abba, I threw myself at his feet and
worshiped him. He commanded me to sit, and he himself sat, weaving palms.”

4 Then I set before him my vessels and gave him a silver vessel that contained three
hundred pounds of silver, praying that he would share in my wealth. But he, seated and
weaving palms, intent on the work of his hands, did not lift his eyes to see me, but in a
quiet voice said: “May God bless you according to what you have endured, and may He grant
you your reward in heaven!” He also said to me: “Put that vessel in the window.” Then he
called Theodorus, the steward, and said to him: “This woman has brought this for the
service of God; therefore, take it, go, distribute this among the elders in the cells of
Libya, and dispense it among the brothers who live in caves and islands, for these
monasteries are the poorest of all.” But he instructed me: “Do not distribute this to the
monasteries of Egypt; for those regions,” he said, “need material goods far less than
these do.” And I said, standing there pondering these things: “Perhaps he will bless me or
praise me!” I truly heard no word from him. Then I said to him: “My father, so that you
may know, I remind you that there are three hundred pounds of silver here.”

5 But he, not even lifting his head as he wove the palms, said to me in a firm voice: “He
to whom you have given this knows its amount; there is no need for anyone to tell him the
quantity. For He who weighs mountains and hills with a scale is not ignorant of the
quantity of silver. If you had told me this, you would have done well to remind me, for I
am a man; but when you have given it to God, what need is there to inform me? For the God
who accepted the widow’s two small coins will also accept your offering. But you should be
silent, lest you boast.” Thus God granted me peace of mind, and I departed from him.
Melania said to me: “I have seen nothing of human weakness in him.” Then, from that place,
I went to the large desert of Shiet and built a church for Abba Isidore, the presbyter. A
few days later, Abba Pamo, a man of God, fell asleep in the Lord at the age of seventy,
and no one had foreseen his death, nor did he suffer from fever; instead, he sat weaving a
basket. When the hour came for his spirit to depart, Melania came again to see him. Pambo
signaled to her: “Take this basket, made by the labor of my hands, as a remembrance of me;
for I have nothing else to leave you.” Immediately, he gave his spirit into the hands of
God. She then prayed to his disciples that she might be allowed to care for his body. And
so she prepared his body with clean and honorable linens, left the desert, and kept that
basket in her hands until her final day.

6 Abba Isidore of Shiet, the presbyter, recounted to us the virtues of Abba Pambo: “I
entreated him to show me the way to the desert place where Abba Pamo dwelled so that I
might see him. And these are the men who, marveling at him, stood with him when he
departed from the body, namely Abba Macarius the presbyter, Abba Ammon, Abba Theodorus,
and many others chosen among the brothers.” and they said to him: “Father, give us a word
so that we may live by it.” And the old man spoke to them thus: “From the time I entered
this desert and built myself a cell and stayed there, I do not remember a single word I
have spoken without repentance, for I have never spoken a word unless I first weighed
whether it was for death or for life. Nor am I aware that I ever ate bread for free,
unless it came from the labor of my own hands. I never brought it into my heart that I had
lived a monastic life, but now as I am about to depart from the world, I do not say to you
that I have lived a pious life according to God; rather, I bring an accusation against
myself, that I have not achieved the will of God.”

7 The brothers then said to him: “Father, do you not think that your labors and your works
are of God?” He responded to them: “Up to this point, I have striven with all my strength
to fulfill the commandments of God. But how do I know what will happen to me at the hour
when I approach God? For the judgment of God is one thing, and the judgment of humans
another. His is mercy: if He wishes to treat me kindly, He will grant me grace and love.
But if He wishes to reckon accounts with me, I will not be free from blame before Him. I
do not know whether I shall obtain pardon from Him beforehand.” 8 Concerning him, Abba
Ammon, Abba Theodorus, and Abba Jacob testified: “If asked him about Scripture or any
other matter, he did not answer immediately, but said: ‘Before I grasp the meaning of this
word, give me two or three days, so that I may meditate on it and offer you an answer.’”
After two or three days had passed, or even an entire week, he did not respond hastily,
but said: “Unless I know whether this word produces the fruit of life or of death, I will
not speak it.” The words that he did speak were received by the brothers as though they
had proceeded from the mouth of God. His disciple Jacob, who modeled his life on Abba
Pamo’s image and adopted his entire way of life, testified to one exception concerning him
related to speech. He said that a certain Spanish man named Anatolius came to him one day.
Anatolius had once been a Roman notary of Albinius, and after leaving the world behind, he
filled a purse with gold containing four thousand gold denarii. He placed it at the feet
of Abba Pamo, hoping, he said, to receive praise or to be admired and appointed as the
steward of wealth. However, Abba Pamo remained silent, working with his hands and not
paying any attention to him, nor did he utter a single word. Then Anatolius said: “My
father,” he said, “I have brought this for the service of the poor.” The old man replied:
“This I know, my son.” Anatolius then said: “I want to know how much is in it.” The old
man replied: “He to whom you gave this has no need to know its quantity.”

9 Abba Pambo, because of his good works and the greatness of his humility, was admired by
all the brothers. They also recount about him that one day he was summoned to Alexandria
by Abba Athanasius. When he entered the city, he saw a woman devoted to theatrical
spectacles, magnificently adorned. Immediately, tears flowed from his eyes. When the
brothers accompanying him saw this, they said: “Father, we beseech you, tell us why these
tears are falling.” He replied: “I am moved for two reasons: first, because of the soul I
now see being destroyed; second, because my own ungrateful soul has not taken up such
adornment as hers—not the adornment of a harlot, but of virtue. It has not clothed itself
in that adornment, nor has it sought to please God and the angels.” Regarding a disciple
who was very faithful in matters of money, it was revealed that he took pleasure in the
curse of Gehazi, the disciple of Elisha the prophet. Then Abba Pambo took the wealth that
Anatolius the prefect had brought and gave it to a certain young man named Origenes, who
up to that time had lived and dedicated himself to the task assigned to him by the elder,
namely, the distribution of goods. He often congratulated himself in the Lord, saying to
us: “Neither I nor my sons are aware of having eaten anyone else’s bread: we have used
nothing except what we acquired through our own labor.”

10 He also acted in this way: he gave nothing from the distributions to younger men, but
only to elderly poor and infirm men who could not procure bread for themselves. As for the
men of his monastery, he gave them nothing from the wealth in his possession; instead, he
chose ten faithful men whom he sent annually to the islands and Libya, and to the places
of the κελάφων of Alexandria, where ships were loaded with grain and bread, so that they
might distribute it to those in need. He also ensured that the churches of the region,
which were in want, and the churches of the interior desert, in the land of the
barbarians, received support, so that he would not give anything from his monastery to
those living nearby. You will understand, therefore, that he introduced this custom to the
brothers who inhabit the regions of Egypt and Mount Pernoudj: Namely, he arranged that
every year a certain artaba of wheat would be given to each person, which would be
distributed to those in need at the κελάφων and also to widows and orphans. Thus, each
monk throughout the year strove to give an artaba of wheat in alms from what was necessary
for himself. This custom persists among them to this very day.

11 They also tell this remarkable story about our holy father, Abba Pambo. It is said that
the ascetic Apa Pihor, a disciple of Abba Antony, once came to him, bringing bread and two
olives that he had taken with him to eat. Abba Pambo said to him: “What are these, Pihor?”
Apa Pihor replied: “I have decided to remain with you for a day, and I brought these few
necessities with me.” The elder understood that Pihor had bound himself by a vow not to
eat another man’s bread. After some time, wishing to teach him without acting according to
his own will while among the elders, Pamo rose and went to Apa Pihor. Before he reached
him, he had moistened his bread and carried two jars of water with him. Apa Pihor said to
him: “What are these, Pambo?” Pambo replied: “Behold, I have brought my bread and water
with me. To avoid causing you any trouble, I moistened my bread before coming to you.”
Thus Apa Pambo did this to teach him silently.

BOHAIRIC LAUSIAC HISTORY - PART 3

1 Now I shall begin to speak about Apa Evagrius, the deacon of Constantinople, upon whom
Gregory the bishop laid his hands. It is fitting to recount the virtues of one to whom all
ascribe glory, for he led an apostolic life. For truth itself required that his work be
made known as something marvelous. For it would not be the work of truth if we were to
pass over in silence its marvelous deeds and progress. Rather, let those things which are
useful for the edification and benefit of those who will read be written, so that praise
may be given to God our savior, who grants to humans the power to perform these deeds. For
He himself taught me the life that is in Christ, and he himself instructed me in the
spiritual understanding of the Scriptures and in the discourses of the elders, as it is
written: ‘So that sin might be revealed, for he is a sinner.’ The entire time he remained
on the mountain, I too stayed with him, with our solitude shared together: I spent the
night of the Sabbath and Sunday entirely with him.

2 But lest anyone should think that I ascribe glory to him or offer him praise, I call
Christ as my witness that I saw most of his virtues with my own eyes, and that the
miracles he performed were not done for his own glory, but for the benefit of those who
will read or hear of them, so that they may praise Christ, who gives power to his servants
and fulfills His will in them. Would that I were also worthy to teach you these
things—namely, how he progressed from his beginning to this perfection and great
asceticism, completing sixty years, and then rested, as it is written, ‘In a short time,
he fulfilled many years.’ This man, of whom we speak, was of Pontic descent. He was the
son of a presbyter from Iberia, whom Saint Basil, bishop of Cappadocia, ordained as a
presbyter over the city near Arkeus. When blessed Basil died, Evagrius went to
Constantinople, following his father, who was also a presbyter serving God. Evagrius, full
of wisdom, followed in the footsteps of Saint Basil. He attached himself to Gregory,
bishop of Constantinople, who, seeing his insight and understanding, which were truly
good, ordained him as a deacon. For he was indeed a wise man, abstinent in his passions
and an irreproachable deacon. He went to Constantinople along with our holy bishops, at
the time when the synod was held in Constantinople. He surpassed all the heretics.

3 Therefore, Evagrius and Nectarius the bishop disputed face to face with each other, for
Evagrius was very vigilant in the Scriptures and prepared by his own wisdom and
understanding to refute all heretics. Thus, throughout the entire city of Constantinople,
he was renowned for boldly combating the heretics with splendid words, and the entire
populace attributed much praise to him. After all this knowledge, however, because of the
pride he possessed, the demon of feminine desire ensnared him in thought. But just as he
later escaped the passions, he taught us these things. For a certain woman greatly loved
him. But since Evagrius truly feared God, he did not sin with her, for the woman was
married, and he guarded his own conscience, because the woman's husband was a man of great
and most honorable lineage. Evagrius thought about his immunity to disgrace, about sin,
judgment, and the joy with which heretics rejoiced after being confounded by him. He
therefore prayed to God, ceaselessly imploring Him to aid him in his struggle against his
passions in the battle imposed upon him. When the woman’s desire clung to him and
persisted until he might succumb, he wished to flee her, but he could not find the
strength. For his thoughts, like those of a child, were bound by pleasure. But divine
mercy did not delay in seizing him; the grace of his prayers and supplications quickly
came to him and gave him strength through a vision.

4 Before anything evil happened with the woman, the Lord sent angels to him in a nighttime
vision, dressed in splendid garments like the guards of an eparch. They seized him and
dragged him away like one being led to judgment. They bound him, as with thieves, in a
prison with other criminals, placing collars and shackles on him, though he knew not why
they had taken him or what the cause was. He then realized that this was happening to him
because he had considered, even in thought, standing before the eparch—the husband of the
woman. 5 He was utterly astonished by these things. The angel who appeared to him changed
his appearance and, in his presence, became like one of his friends who had come to
comfort and encourage him. When the angel saw him bound with the criminals, he said to
him: ‘Why have you been arrested, my deacon?’ He replied: ‘Truly, I do not know; but my
mind tells me that I have accused a certain man, moved by jealousy. Therefore, fear lest
he give silver to the judge and I perish here violently.' The angel said to him: 'If you
listen to me, your friend, surely it is not good for you to remain in this city.’ Evagrius
said: ‘If God frees me from this necessity and you see me again in this city of
Constantinople, say to me: 'You have deserved this punishment by right.'‘ But the angel,
who had taken the form of a friend, said to him: ‘I will bring you the Gospel; swear to
me: 'I will not remain in this city.' What is good for your soul, the Lord will provide,
and I will free you from this necessity.’

6 Then he swore upon the Gospel, saying: ‘After one day, when I have placed my belongings
on a ship, I will leave this city.’ As soon as he swore, he awoke from the vision he had
seen during the night and said: ‘Even though I swore in a dream, still I have sworn an
oath.’ He immediately rose, loaded his belongings and clothing onto a ship, and sailed to
Jerusalem. Blessed Melania the Roman received him with joy. Once again, the devil hardened
his heart, just as he had once hardened Pharaoh’s. His heart became wavering and
conflicted: his youth luxuriated, as did his pride in words and his delight in the changes
of fine clothing. He would change them twice a day, succumbing to pride and the pleasures
of the body. But God, who always protects his people from ruin, sent him a fever so severe
that he endured a prolonged illness, and his flesh became thin as a thread; yet all these
pains afflicted him so secretly that doctors, unaware of his illness, were unable to cure
him.

7 Saint Melania said to him: ‘My son Evagrius, this illness, which has been long for you,
is a lesson for me: do not hide your thoughts from me, and perhaps I will heal you. Speak
to me sincerely about your thoughts; otherwise, I see that this has not happened to you
without God’s will.’ Then he revealed all his thoughts to her, and she said to him:
‘Promise me that you will take on the monastic habit, and although I am a sinner, I will
pray to my God that He may grant you healing freely.’ He gave her the promise, and within
a few days he was healed. He rose, put on the monastic habit, departed, and walked to
Mount Pernoudj in Egypt. There he lived for two years, and in the third year he left. Then
he entered the desert of Cellia, where he lived for sixteen years, practicing many
exercises, and there he died at the age of sixty. He did not see the bitterness of old age
or the weakness of the body, and so he rested, as it is written: ‘In a short time, he
fulfilled many years,’ and he was swiftly carried to the Lord lest his understanding be
corrupted by wickedness.

8 One day, our father Macarius was asked: ‘Father, how can I overcome the spirit of
fornication?’ The elder said to him: ‘Do not eat at the appointed times, neither
vegetables nor anything cooked with fire.’ That man was admirable, as his life was filled
with the delights of peace and quiet. Indeed, it would not be fair to speak of his life
without first recounting his old age. He prayed one hundred prayers every day, and he was
also an elegant writer. When he had completed eight uninterrupted years of ascetic
discipline, his bodily organs became afflicted; even the place where he passed water
caused him pain, for his food was like stones in his stomach. The elders urged him to
modify his ascetic practice. Until the time of his death, he did not eat bread, but only a
few vegetables from among foods until he completed his short span of time. He neither ate
fruit nor anything that gave pleasure to the body, and he did not allow his disciples to
eat such things. This was the asceticism of his eating.

9 His sleep, however, was measured and divided: he slept for a third of the night, but
never during the day. He had a corridor where, throughout the entire half of the day, he
walked, weighed down with drowsiness, forcing his mind to contemplate visions that were
revealed to him. At night, when he had already slept for a third of the night, he would
spend the remaining part of the night walking through the corridor, meditating and
praying, driving sleep away from himself, and compelling his mind to focus on the visions
of the Scriptures. Thus, he became a man of the purest mind and of wisdom, knowledge, and
discernment, and he was regarded as worthy of the grace of discretion, distinguishing the
works of demons. In the holy Scriptures and the orthodoxy of the Catholic Church, he was
eloquent and learned, for his knowledge and his chosen mind are attested to by the books
he wrote. He wrote three books: one about the monks of monasteries, another about the
monks who dwelled in the cells of his desert, and another about the presbyters of God, to
make them vigilant in their holy place. These three books all taught a good life, ordered
understanding, and visions in accordance with the orthodox traditions of the Church. For
this was his custom.

10 The brothers would gather with him on the Sabbath and on Sunday. Throughout the entire
night, they would share their thoughts with him, listening to his strong words until dawn.
When they left him, they gave glory to God, for his teaching was very sweet to them. If
they came to him and he noticed any deep or grave thought troubling them, he would beseech
them, saying: ‘My brothers, if any one of you is troubled by a deep or serious thought,
let him remain silent until the other brothers have gone, and then let him ask me
privately, in secret, between the two of us. Let him not speak before his brothers, lest
perhaps he lose the little one through his own thoughts and be overcome at the same time
by pain of heart.’ He so loved strangers that in his cell he would admit five or six
strangers daily who came from distant regions to hear his wisdom, understanding, and
ascetic practices. For he possessed spiritual gifts and to him everyone would send
offerings such that he had more than two hundred charismata. All of these were managed by
the steward, who at all times served in his house. Often Apa Theophilus sought to
apprehend him and make him bishop of Thmouis, but he fled so that this would not happen.

11 One day, demons came to him and inflicted wounds upon him; we heard his voice, but we
saw no one. Throughout the night, they struck him with scourges, and we saw the wounds on
his body with our own eyes: God is our witness. If you wish to know about the temptations
he endured from demons, read the book he wrote against the demons, and you will see his
entire life and the various temptations he suffered. He wrote it for this reason, so that
those who read might be strengthened, for they are not the only ones who are tempted; and
he taught us how such thoughts and inclinations might be overcome. This man was hidden at
the beginning. One day, the demons increased fornication against him so much that they
placed this thought in his heart: ‘God has forgotten me.’ As he told us, he spent the
entire night naked in winter, praying until his flesh became as dry as stone. At another
time, the spirit of blasphemy harassed him, and for forty days he did not enter the
shelter of his cell. His entire body became inflamed, like an irrational beast filled with
swelling. A few days later, he told us the visions he had seen and never concealed them
from his disciples. He said: ‘During the night, I was sitting in my cell, burning with
lamplight, meditating on one of the prophets. In the middle of the night, I was in a
rapture of the mind, and I found myself, as it were, dreaming a dream, seeing myself
suspended in the air, gazing at the clouds and the entire earth. And a certain one whose
hands I was hanging from said to me: ‘Do you see all these things?’ For he had lifted me
up to the clouds, and I was seeing the entire world at once. I said to him: ‘Indeed.’

12 He said to me: ‘I will give you a command: if you fulfill it, you will be made ruler
over all these things that you see.’ He said to me: ‘Go, be merciful and humble; place
your thoughts rightly in the Lord, and you will be ruler over all these things.’ And when
he had spoken these words to me, again I saw myself holding the book, with the lamp
burning, though I had been somehow caught up to the clouds. I did not know whether I was
in the flesh—God knows—or in the spirit, I do not know; God knows. And so he strove for
these two virtues (to be attained), as if he had attained all others, saying: ‘Humility
leads to correct knowledge, and understanding aspires to the heights.’ For it is written:
‘He will teach the humble his ways.’ And this is the virtue of the angels.’ Concerning
purity, he said: ‘Not only monks and virgins possess it, but many laypeople also maintain
purity; for not all possess bodily purity.’ He continued: ‘Therefore, seek peace with all,
and pursue purity. No one, unless pure, shall see the Lord.’ It was impossible to find a
worldly word in the mouth of Apa Evagrius, or even a word of contention; nor would he
listen to such from anyone else.

13 We also heard this miracle about him: when Apa Theophilus sought to make him bishop of
Thmouis, he fled and withdrew to Palestine. There, he found a woman possessed by an
unclean spirit. Nothing created could satisfy her, for the demon had proposed to her a
life resembling that of angels; but for many years, she did not lie with her husband. When
Apa Evagrius, the man of God had met him, and with a single word he turned the woman’s
heart to God, along with her husband’s. For she had been speaking externally of
philosophy, yet unaware of what she was saying, such that it was wondrous for her to speak
otherwise. She was saved in the Lord and reconciled with her husband through him. On
another occasion, an old man who was fleeing from the priesthood and living in the desert
came to him. While traveling, his bread and that of his disciple failed, and the disciple
was on the verge of collapsing from hunger on the way. But an angel brought bread before
him and placed it on the mountain. When the old man reached the place of Apa Evagrius, he
said to him: ‘As I was coming to you, my boy and I, on the road, we were starving and
found no bread to eat. The boy nearly fainted from hunger, and when we had stretched out a
skin and knelt down, as we fell to the ground, the scent of warm bread reached us. When I
rose, I found two warm loaves. And when each of us had taken his share of bread, we ate
and were strengthened, we traveled and came to you.’ And I also sat there while he spoke
of these things and the wondrous deed that had happened to Apa Evagrius.

14 As I sat, he said: ‘Tell me, then, do you think that demons can accomplish these
things?’ Apa Evagrius replied: ‘The same thing happened to both of us—you and I are
witnesses. A few days ago, I also set out to visit the brothers, and as I walked along the
road, I found a purse in which were three gold coins.’ After I sat down for a day, no one
came to search for it, and because I did not know who it belonged to, I sent someone to
the nearby villages, saying: 'Has anyone lost a purse in recent days?' When no one came
forward, I gave an order to my steward and said: 'Distribute it among the pilgrims,
whether it comes from angels or from the devil.' And we distributed it accordingly.
Therefore, I give thanks to God, for such works do not pertain to the soul unless they
lead it to be purified, are useful. However, I congratulate you for having received food
from an angel; for demons, too, can bring bread, even steal it and offer it. But this
bread does not nourish the body, for the bread of demons stinks, and if bread is from the
devil, the soul is disturbed when it sees it. But if the bread is from an angel, the soul
is not disturbed but remains in peace and tranquility. At that moment when someone is
worthy to receive bread from the hands of angels, reason first provides discernment, if we
recall the words of the Apostle, saying: ‘The food of the mature is for those who, because
of their perfection, have trained their senses to discern what is good and what is evil.’

15 Another time, three demons approached him at midday, disguised in the form of ministers
of the church. By their appearance, they displayed themselves as though they were
righteous, and he did not immediately recognize them as demons. After they left and he
found the door firmly closed, he knew they were demons, though at first he had not
realized it. They showed themselves in such a way as to dispute with men of faith about
the Scriptures and each of them presented him with a problem: ‘We have heard of you, that
you speak beautifully of the orthodox faith; therefore, we have come to you to persuade
our hearts concerning these matters which we question. He replied to them: ‘Say what you
want. The first said: ‘I am a Eunomian, and I have come to you so that you may teach me
whether the Father is unbegotten or begotten. Apa Evagrius said to him: ‘I will not answer
you because you have questioned poorly, for it is not fitting to speak of what is
unbegotten by nature as something begotten or unbegotten. When the first man knew that he
had been defeated, he instructed his companion to proceed. The second man stepped forward
and said to the first: ‘You questioned poorly. Apa Evagrius said to him: ‘And you, who are
you? He replied: ‘I am an Arian. Apa Evagrius said: ‘And what do you seek? He said:
‘Concerning the Holy Spirit and about the truth of the saying that Mary bore God in the
flesh.

16 Then Saint Evagrius said to them: ‘The Holy Spirit is neither begotten nor created; for
every created thing is comprehensible, mutable, and is sanctified by Him who chose to
sanctify it. The third said: ‘You have defeated these […] The old man replied: ‘What are
you seeking, you who boast of yourself before the battle? The demon replied: ‘I bring no
ambiguity, but my heart is not persuaded, nor am I certain that Christ accepted human
understanding. Instead, I believe divine understanding was in Him. For it cannot happen
that a human spirit could drive out demons who dominate and overcome them. However, the
human spirit does not exist in a body alongside God.’ 17 Apa Evagrius said: ‘If He had not
accepted the human spirit, He would not have taken on human flesh; for the Blessed Virgin
Mary did not bear one without a human soul. In every human work, free from sin, this was
fitting. For it is not possible that there be a body [….] soul and spirit. For unless He
had received these, Christ would be called in vain. Therefore, the immutable Word, the
Only-Begotten Son of the Father, assumed a human body, as well as a soul, spirit, and all
things human, without sin. Let us now simply bring forward Paul’s testimony, which says:
to unite us into one faith, one divinity, one kingdom, because the Trinity is immutable.
For he said: ‘There is one God and one mediator between God and humanity, Jesus Christ,
the Son of God the Father, one Holy Spirit, one Catholic Church, one resurrection of the
dead in time.’ Thus, Paul said, ‘[…] you have fully grasped the mystery of the Holy
Trinity.’ One among you said the Word is a creature; another said the Holy Spirit and the
body of Christ are creatures; another, however, killed the soul and body of Christ […].


THE LIFE OF SAINT MARTIN
========================

THE LIFE OF SAINT MARTIN Sulpicius Severus

c. AD 363–425

Biographer of Martin of Tours and church historian.

INTRODUCTION

Preface to Desiderius.

1 Severus to his dearest brother Desiderius sendeth greeting. I had determined, my like-
minded brother, to keep private, and confine within the walls of my own house, the little
treatise which I had written concerning the life of St. Martin. I did so, as I am not
gifted with much talent, and shrank from the criticisms of the world, lest (as I think
will be the case) my somewhat unpolished style should displease my readers, and I should
be deemed highly worthy of general reprehension for having too boldly laid hold of a
subject which ought to have been reserved for truly eloquent writers. But I have not been
able to refuse your request again and again presented. For what could there be which I
would not grant in deference to your love, even at the expense of my own modesty? However,
I have submitted the work to you on the sure understanding that you will reveal it to no
other, having received your promise to that effect. Nevertheless, I have my fears that yon
will become the means of its publication to the world; and I well know that, once issued,
it can never be recalled. If this shall happen, and you come to know that it is read by
some others, you will, I trust, kindly ask the readers to attend to the facts related,
rather than the language in which they are set forth.

2 You will beg them not to be offended if the style chances unpleasantly to affect their
ears, because the kingdom of God consists not of eloquence, but faith. Let them also bear
in mind that salvation was preached to the world, not by orators, but by fishermen,
although God could certainly have adopted the other course, had it been advantageous. For
my part, indeed, when I first applied my mind to writing what follows, because I thought
it disgraceful that the excellences of so great a man should remain concealed, I resolved
with myself not to feel ashamed on account of solecisms of language. This I did because I
had never attained to any great knowledge of such things; or, if I had formerly some taste
of studies of the kind, I had lost the whole of that, through having neglected these
matters for so long a course of time. But, after all, that I may not have in future to
adopt such an irksome mode of self-defense, the best way will be that the book should be
published, if you think right, with the author's name suppressed. In order that this may
be done, kindly erase the title which the book bears on its front, so that the page may be
silent; and (what is quite enough) let the book proclaim its subject-matter, while it
tells nothing of the author.

CHAPTER I.

1 Reasons for writing the Life of St. Martin. 2 Most men being vainly devoted to the
pursuit of worldly glory, have, as they imagined, acquired a memorial of their own names
from this source; viz. devoting their pens to the embellishment of the lives of famous
men. This course, although it did not secure for them a lasting reputation, still has
undoubtedly brought them some fulfilment of the hope they cherished. It has done so, both
by preserving their own memory, though to no purpose, and because, through their having
presented to the world the examples of great men, no small emulation has been excited in
the bosoms of their readers. Yet, notwithstanding these things, their labors have in no
degree borne upon the blessed and never-ending life to which we look forward. For what has
a glory, destined to perish with the world, profited those men themselves who have written
on mere secular matters? Or what benefit has posterity derived from reading of Hector as a
warrior, or Socrates as an expounder of philosophy? There can be no profit in such things,
since it is not only folly to imitate the persons referred to, but absolute madness not to
assail them with the utmost severity. For, in truth, those persons who estimate human life
only by present actions, have consigned their hopes to fables, and their souls to the
tomb.

3 In fact, they gave themselves up to be perpetuated simply in the memory of mortals,
whereas it is the duty of man rather to seek after eternal life than an eternal memorial
and that, not by writing, or fighting, or philosophizing, but by living a pious, holy, and
religious life. This erroneous conduct of mankind, being enshrined in literature, has
prevailed to such an extent that it has found many who have been emulous either of the
vain philosophy or the foolish excellence which has been celebrated. For this reason, I
think I will accomplish something well worth the necessary pains, if I write the life of a
most holy man, which shall serve in future as an example to others; by which, indeed, the
readers shall be roused to the pursuit of true knowledge, and heavenly warfare, and divine
virtue. In so doing, we have regard also to our own advantage, so that we may look for,
not a vain remembrance among men, but an eternal reward from God. For, although we
ourselves have not lived in such a manner that we can serve for an example to others,
nevertheless, we have made it our endeavor that he should not remain unknown who was a man
worthy of imitation. I shall therefore set about writing the life of St. Martin, and shall
narrate both what he did previous to his episcopate, and what he performed as a bishop. At
the same time, I cannot hope to set forth all that he was or did.

4 Those excellences of which he alone was conscious are completely unknown, because, as he
did not seek for honor from men, he desired, as much as he could accomplish it, that his
virtues should be concealed. And even of those which had become known to us, we have
omitted a great number, because we have judged it enoughif only the more striking and
eminent should berecorded. At the same time, I had in the interests of readers to see to
it that, no undue amountof instances being set before them should makethem weary of the
subject. But I implore thosewho are to read what follows to give full faith tothe things
narrated, and to believe that I havewritten nothing of which I had not certainknowledge
and evidence. I should, in fact, have preferred to be silent rather than to narrate things
which are false.

CHAPTER II.

1 Military Service of St. Martin. 2 Martin, then, was born at Sabaria in Pannonia, but was
brought up at Ticinum, which is situated in Italy. His parents were, according to the
judgment of the world, of no mean rank, but were heathens. His father was at first simply
a soldier, but afterwards a military tribune. He himself in his youth following military
pursuits was enrolled in the imperial guard, first under king Constantine, and then under
Julian Caesar. This, however, was not done of his own free will, for, almost from his
earliest years, the holy infancy of the illustrious boy aspired rather to the service of
God. For, when he was of the age of ten years, he betook himself, against the wish of his
parents, to the Church, and begged that he might become a catechumen. Soon afterwards,
becoming in a wonderful manner completely devoted to the service of God, when he was
twelve years old, he desired to enter on the life of a hermit; and he would have followed
up that desire with the necessary vows, had not his as yet too youthful age prevented. His
mind, however, being always engaged on matters pertaining to the monasteries or the
Church, already meditated in his boyish years what he afterwards, as a professed servant
of Christ, fulfilled.

3 But when an edict was issued by the ruling powers in the state, that the sons of
veterans should be enrolled for military service, and he, on the information furnished by
his father, (who looked with an evil eye on his blessed actions) having been seized and
put in chains, when he was fifteen years old, was compelled to take the military oath,
then showed himself content with only one servant as his attendant. And even to him,
changing places as it were, he often acted as though, while really master, he had been
inferior; to such a degree that, for the most part, he drew off his [servant's] boots and
cleaned them with his own hand; while they took their meals together, the real master,
however, generally acting the part of servant. During nearly three years before his
baptism, he was engaged in the profession of arms, but he kept completely free from those
vices in which that class of men become too frequently involved. He showed exceeding
kindness towards his fellow-soldiers, and held them in wonderful affection; while his
patience and humility surpassed what seemed possible to human nature. There is no need to
praise the self-denial which he displayed: it was so great that, even at that date, he was
regarded not so much as being a soldier as a monk. By all these qualities he had so
endeared himself to the whole body of his comrades, that they esteemed him while they
marvelously loved him.

4 Although not yet made a new creature in Christ, he, by his good works, acted the part of
a candidate for baptism. This he did, for instance, by aiding those who were in trouble,
by furnishing assistance to the wretched, by supporting the needy, by clothing the naked,
while he reserved nothing for himself from his military pay except what was necessary for
his daily sustenance. Even then, far from being a senseless hearer of the Gospel, he so
far complied with its precepts as to take no thought about the morrow.

CHAPTER III.

1 Christ appears to St. Martin. 2 Accordingly, at a certain period, when he had nothing
except his arms and his simple military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter which had
shown itself more severe than ordinary, so that the extreme cold was proving fatal to
many, he happened to meet at the gate of the city of Amiens a poor man destitute of
clothing. He was entreating those that passed by to have compassion upon him, but all
passed the wretched man without notice, when Martin, that man full of God, recognized that
a being to whom others showed no pity, was, in that respect, left to him. Yet, what should
he do? He had nothing except the cloak in which he was clad, for he had already parted
with the rest of his garments for similar purposes. Taking, therefore, his sword with
which he was girt, he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and gave one part to the
poor man, while he again clothed himself with the remainder. Upon this, some of the by-
standers laughed, because he was now an unsightly object, and stood out as but partly
dressed. Many, however, who were of sounder understanding, groaned deeply because they
themselves had done nothing similar. They especially felt this, because, being possessed
of more than Martin, they could have clothed the poor man without reducing themselves to
nakedness. In the following night, when Martin had resigned himself to sleep, he had a
vision of Christ arrayed in that part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man.

3 He contemplated the Lord with the greatest attention, and was told to own as his the
robe which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus saying with a clear voice to the
multitude of angels standing round - "Martin, who is still but a catechumen, clothed me
with this robe. The Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who had said when on earth -
"Inasmuch as ye have done these things to one of the least of these, ye have done them
unto me), declared that he himself had been clothed in that poor man; and to confirm the
testimony he bore to so good a deed, he condescended to show him himself in that very
dress which the poor man had received. After this vision the sainted man was not puffed up
with human glory, but, acknowledging the goodness of God in what had been done, and being
now of the age of twenty years, he hastened to receive baptism. He did not, however, all
at once, retire from military service, yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom he
admitted to be his familiar tent-companion. For the tribune promised that, after the
period of his office had expired, he too would retire from the world. Martin, kept back by
the expectation of this event, continued, although but in name, to act the part of a
soldier, for nearly two years after he had received baptism.

CHAPTER IV.

1 Martin retires from Military Service. 2 IN the meantime, as the barbarians were rushing
within the two divisions of Gaul, Julian Caesar, bringing an army together at the city of
the Vaugiones, began to distribute a donative to the soldiers. As was the custom in such a
case, they were called forward, one by one, until it came to the turn of Martin. Then,
indeed, judging it a suitable opportunity for seeking his discharge - for he did not think
it would be proper for him, if he were not to continue in the service, to receive a
donative - he said to Caesar, "Hitherto I have served you as a soldier: allow me now to
become a soldier to God: let the man who is to serve thee receive thy donative: I am the
soldier of Christ it is not lawful for me to fight. Then truly the tyrant stormed on
hearing such words, declaring that, from fear of the battle, which was to take place on
the morrow, and not from any religious feeling, Martin withdrew from the service. But
Martin, full of courage, yea all the more resolute from the danger that had been set
before him, exclaims, "If this conduct of mine is ascribed to cowardice, and not to faith,
I will take my stand unarmed before the line of battle tomorrow, and in the name of the
Lord Jesus, protected by the sign of the cross, and not by shield or helmet, I will safely
penetrate theranks of the enemy.

3 He is ordered, therefore,to be thrust back into prison, determined on proving his words
true by exposing himself unarmed to the barbarians. But, on the following day, the enemy
sent ambassadors to treat about peace and surrendered both themselves and all their
possessions. In these circumstances who can doubt that this victory was due to the saintly
man? It was granted him that he should not be sent unarmed to the fight. And although the
good Lord could have preserved his own soldier, even amid the swords and darts of the
enemy, yet that his blessed eyes might not be pained by witnessing the death of others, he
removed all necessity for fighting. For Christ did not require to secure any other victory
in behalf of his own soldier, than that, the enemy being subdued without bloodshed, no one
should suffer death.

CHAPTER V.

1 Martin converts a Rubber to the Faith. 2 From that time quitting military service,
Martin earnestly sought after the society of Hilarius, bishop of the city Pictava, whose
faith in the things of God was then regarded as of high renown, and in universal esteem.
For some time Martin made his abode with him.Now, this same Hilarius, having instituted
him in the office of the diaconate, endeavored still more closely to attach him to
himself, and to bind him by leading him to take part in Divine service. But when he
constantly refused, crying out that he was unworthy, Hilarius, as being a man of deep
penetration, perceived that he could only be constrained in this way, if he should lay
that sort of office upon him, in discharging which there should seem to be a kind of
injury done him. He therefore appointed him to be an exorcist. Martin did not refuse this
appointment, from the fear that he might seem to have looked down upon it as somewhat
humble. Not long after this, he was warned in a dream that he should visit his native
land, and more particularly his parents, who were still involved in heathenism, with a
regard for their religious interests. He set forth in accordance with the expressed wish
of the holy Hilarius, and, after being adjured by him with many prayers and tears, that he
would in due time return. According to report Martin entered on that journey in a
melancholy frame of mind, after calling the brethren to witness that many sufferings lay
before him.

3 The result fully justified this prediction. For, first of all, having followed some
devious paths among the Alps, he fell into the hands of robbers. And when one of them
lifted up his axe and poised it above Martin's head, another of them met with his right
hand the blow as it fell; nevertheless, having had his hands bound behind his back, he was
handed over to one of them to be guarded and stripped. The robber, having led him to a
private place apart from the rest, began to enquire of him who he was. Upon this, Martin
replied that he was a Christian. The robber next asked him whether he was afraid. Then
indeed Martin most courageously repliedthat he never before had felt so safe, because
heknew that the mercy of the Lord would be especially present with him in the midst of
trials. He added that he grieved rather for the man in whose hands he was, because, by
living a life of robbery, he was showing himself unworthy of the mercy of Christ. And then
entering on a discourse concerning Evangelical truth, he preached the word of God to the
robber. Why should I delay stating the result? The robber believed; and, after expressing
his respect for Martin, he restored him to the way, entreating him to pray the Lord for
him. That same robber was after- wards seen leading a religious life; so that, in fact,
the narrative I have given above is based upon an account furnished by himself.

CHAPTER VI.

1 The Devil throws himself in the Way of Martin. Martin, then, having gone on from thence,
after he had passed Milan, the devil met him in the way, having assumed the form of a man.
The devil first asked him to what place he was going. Martin having answered him to the
effect that he was minded to go whithersoever the Lord called him, the devil said to him,
"Wherever you go, or whatever you attempt, the devil will resist you." Then Martin,
replying to him in the prophetical word, said, "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear
what man can do unto me." Upon this, his enemy immediately vanished out of his sight; and
thus, as he had intended in his heart and mind, he set free his mother from the errors of
heathenism, though his father continued to cleave to its evils. However, he saved many by
his example.

2 After this, when the Arian heresy had spread through the whole world, and was especially
powerful in Illyria, and when he, almost single-handed, was fighting most strenuously
against the treachery of the priests, and had been subjected to many punishments (for he
was publicly scourged, and at last was compelled to leave the city), again betaking
himself to Italy, and having found the Church in the two divisions of Gaul in a distracted
condition through the departure also of the holy Hilarius, whom the violence of the
heretics had driven into exile, he established a monastery for himself at Milan. There,
too, Auxentius, the originator and leader of the Arians, bitterly persecuted him; and,
after he had assailed him with many injuries, violently expelled him from the city.
Thinking, therefore, that it was necessary to yield to circumstances, he withdrew to the
island Gallinaria, with a certain presbyter as his companion, a man of distinguished
excellences. Here he subsisted for some time on the roots of plants; and, while doing so,
he took for food hellebore, which is, as people say, a poisonous kind of grass. But when
he perceived the strength of the poison increasing within him, and death now nearly at
hand, he warded off the imminent danger by means of prayer, and immediately all his pains
were put to flight. And not long after having discovered that, through penitence on the
part of the king, permission to return had been granted to holy Hilarius, he made an
effort to meet him at Rome, and, with this view, set out for that city.

CHAPTER VII.

1 Martin restores a Catechumen to Life. 2 As Hilarius had already gone away, so Martin
followed in his footsteps; and having been most joyously welcomed by him, he established
for himself a monastery not far from the town. At this time a certain catechumen joined
him, being desirous of becoming instructed in the doctrines and habits of the most holy
man. But, after the lapse only of a few days, the catechumen, seized with a languor, began
to suffer from a violent fever. It so happened that Martin had then left home, and having
remained away three days, he found on his return that life had departed from the
catechumen; and so suddenly had death occurred, that he had left this world without
receiving baptism. The body being laid out in public was being honored by the last sad
offices on the part of the mourning brethren, when Martin hurries up to them with tears
and lamentations. But then laying hold; as it were, of the Holy Spirit, with the whole
powers of his mind, he orders the others to quit the cell in which the body was lying; and
bolting the door, he stretches himself at full length on the dead limbs of the departed
brother. Having given himself for some time to earnest prayer, and perceiving by means of
the Spirit of God that power was present, he then rose up for a little, and gazing on the
countenance of the deceased, he waited without misgiving for the result of his prayer and
of the mercy of the Lord.

3 And scarcely had the space of two hours elapsed, when he saw the dead man begin to move
a little in all his members, and to tremble with his eyes opened for the practice of
sight. Then indeed, turning to the Lord with a loud voice and giving thanks, he filled the
cell with his ejaculations. Hearing the noise, those who had been standing at the door
immediately rush inside. And truly a marvelous spectacle met them, for they beheld the man
alive whom they had formerly left dead. Thus being restored to life, and having
immediately obtained baptism, he lived for many years afterwards; and he was the first who
offered himself to us both as a subject that had experienced the virtues of Martin, and as
a witness to their existence. The same man was wont to relate that, when he left the body,
he was brought before the tribunal of the Judge, and being assigned to gloomy regions and
vulgar crowds, he received a severe 4 sentence. Then, however, he added, it was suggested
by two angels of the Judge that he was the man for whom Martin was praying ; and that, on
this account, he was ordered to be led back by the same angels, and given up to Martin,
and restored to his former life. From this time forward, the name of the sainted man
became illustrious, so that, as being reckoned holy by all, he was also deemed powerful
and truly apostolical.

CHAPTER VIII.

Martin restores one that had been strangled. Not long after these events, while Martin was
passing by the estate of a certain man named Lupicinus, who was held in high esteem
according to the judgment of the world, he was received with shouting and the lamentations
of a wailing crowd. Having, in an anxious state of mind gone up to that multitude, and
enquired what such weeping meant, he was told that one of the slaves of the family had put
an end to his life by hanging. Hearing this, Martin entered the cell in which the body was
lying, and, excluding all the multitude, he stretched himself upon the body, and spent
some little time in prayer. Ere long, the deceased, with life beaming in his countenance,
and with his drooping eyes fixed on Martin's face, is aroused; and with a gentle effort
attempting to rise, he laid hold of the fight hand of the saintly man, and by this means
stood upon his feet. In this manner, while the whole multitude looked on, he walked along
with Martin to the porch of the house.

CHAPTER IX.

1 High Esteem in which Martin was held. 2 Nearly about the same time, Martin was called
upon to undertake the episcopate of the church at Tours ; but when he could not easily be
drawn forth from his monastery, a certain Ruricius, one of the citizens, pretending that
his wife was ill, and casting himself down at his knees, prevailed on him to go forth.
Multitudes of the citizens having previously been posted by the road on which he traveled,
he is thus under a kind of guard escorted to the city. An incredible number of people not
only from that town, but also from the neighboring cities, had, in a wonderful manner,
assembled to give their votes. There was but one wish among all, there were the same
prayers, and there was the same fixed opinion to the effect that Martin was most worthy of
the episcopate, and that the church would be happy with such a priest. A few persons,
however, and among these some of the bishops, who had been summoned to appoint a chief
priest, were impiously offering resistance, asserting forsooth that Martin's person was
contemptible, that he was unworthy of the episcopate, that he was a man despicable in
countenance, that his clothing was mean, and his hair disgusting. This madness of theirs
was ridiculed by the people of Sounder judgment, inasmuch as such objectors only
proclaimed the illustrious character of the man, while they sought to slander him. Nor
truly was it allowed them to do anything else, than what the people, following the Divine
will, desired to be accomplished.

3 Among the bishops, however, who had been present, a certain one of the name Defensor is
said to have specially offered opposition; and on this account it was observed that he was
at the time severely censured in the reading from the prophets. For when it so happened
that the reader, whose duty it was to read in public that day, being blocked out by the
people, failed to appear, the officials falling into confusion, while they waited for him
who never came, one of those standing by, laying hold of the Psalter, seized upon the
first verse which presented itself to him. Now, the Psalm ran thus: "Out of the mouth of
babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise because of thine enemies, that thou
mightest destroy the enemy and the avenger. On these words being read, a shout was raised
by the people, and the opposite party were confounded. It was believed that this Psalm had
been chosen by Divine ordination, that Defensor might hear a testimony to his own work,
because the praise of the Lord was perfected out of the mouth of babes and sucklings in
the case of Martin, while the enemy was at the same time both pointed out and destroyed.

CHAPTER X.

1 Martin as Bishop of Tours. 2 And now having entered on the episcopal office, it is
beyond my power fully to set forth how Martin distinguished himself in the discharge of
its duties. For he remained with the utmost constancy, the same as he had been before.
There was the same humility in his heart, and the same homeliness in his garments. Full
alike of dignity and courtesy, he kept up the position of a bishop properly, yet in such a
way as not to lay aside the objects and virtues of a monk. Accordingly he made use, for
some time, of the cell connected with the church but afterwards, when he felt it
impossible to tolerate the disturbance caused by the numbers of those visiting it, he
established a monastery for himself about two miles outside the city. This spot was so
secret and retired that he enjoyed in it the solitude of a hermit. For, on one side, it
was surrounded by a precipitous rock of a lofty mountain, while the river Loire had shut
in the rest of the plain by a bay extending back for a little distance; and the place
could be approached only by one, and that a very narrow passage. Here, then, he possessed
a cell constructed of wood. Many also of the brethren had, in the same manner, fashioned
retreats for themselves, but most of them had formed these out of the rock of the
overhanging mountain, hollowed into caves. There were altogether eighty disciples, who
were being disciplined after the example of the saintly master.

3 No one there had anything which was called his own; all things were possessed in common.
It was not allowed either to buy or to sell anything, as is the custom among most monks.
No art was practiced there, except that of transcribers, and even this was assigned to the
brethren of younger years, while the elders spent their time in prayer. Rarely did any one
of them go beyond the cell, unless when they assembled at the place of prayer. They all
took their food together, after the hour of fasting was past. No one used wine, except
when illness compelled them to do so. Most of them were clothed in garments of camels'
hair. Any dress approaching to softness was there deemed criminal, and this must be
thought the more remarkable, because many among them were such as are deemed of noble
rank. These, though far differently brought up, had forced themselves down to this degree
of humility and patient endurance, and we have seen numbers of these afterwards made
bishops. For what city or church would there be that would not desire to have its priests
from among those in the monastery of Martin?

CHAPTER XI.

1 Martin demolishes an Altar consecrated to aRobber. 2 But let me proceed to a description
of other excellences which Martin displayed as a bishop. There was, not far from the town,
a place very close to the monastery, which a false human opinion had consecrated, on the
supposition that some martyrs had been buried together there. For it was also believed
that an altar had been placed there by former bishops. But Martin, not inclined to give a
hasty belief to things uncertain, often asked from those who were his elders, whether
among the presbyters or clerics, that the name of the martyr, or the time when he
suffered, should be made known to him. He did so, he said, because he had great scruples
on these points, inasmuch as no steady tradition respecting them had come down from
antiquity. Having, therefore, for a time kept away from the place, by no means wishing to
lessen the religious veneration with which it was regarded, because he was as yet
uncertain, but, at the same time not lending his authority to the opinion of the
multitude, lest a mere superstition should obtain a firmer footing, he one day went out to
the place, taking a few brethren with him as companions. There standing above the very
sepulchre, Martin prayed to the Lord that he would reveal, who the man in question was,
and what was his character or desert. Next turning to the left-hand side, he sees standing
very near a shade of a mean and cruel appearance. Martin commands him to tell his name and
character.

3 Upon this, he declares his name, and confesses his guilt. He says that he had been a
robber, and that he was beheaded on account of his crimes; that he had been honored simply
by an error of the multitude; that he had nothing in common with the martyrs, since glory
was their portion, while punishment exacted its penalties from him. Those who stood by
heard, in a wonderful way, the voice of the speaker, but they beheld no person. Then
Martin made known what he had seen, and ordered the altar which had been there to be
removed, and thus he delivered the people from the error of that superstition.

CHAPTER XII.

1 Martin causes the Bearers of a Dead Body tostop. 2 Now, it came to pass some time after
the above, that while Martin was going a journey, he met the body of a certain heathen,
which was being carried to the tomb with superstitious funeral rites. Perceiving from a
distance the crowd that was approaching, and being ignorant as to what was going on, he
stood still for a little while. For there was a distance of nearly half a mile between him
and the crowd, so that it was difficult to discover what the spectacle he beheld really
was. Nevertheless, because he saw it was a rustic gathering, and when the linen clothes
spread over the body were blown about by the action of the wind, he believed that some
profane rites of sacrifice were being performed. This thought occurred to him, because it
was the custom of the Gallic rustics in their wretched folly to carry about through the
fields the images of demons veiled with a white covering. Lifting up, therefore, the sign
of the cross opposite to them, he commanded the crowd not to move from the place in which
they were, and to set down the burden. Upon this, the miserable creatures might have been
seen at first to become stiff like rocks. Next, as they endeavored, with every possible
effort, to move forward, but were not able to take a step farther, they began to whiff
themselves about in the most ridiculous fashion, until, not able any longer to sustain the
weight, they set down the dead body.

3 Thunderstruck, and gazing in bewilderment at each other as not knowing what had happened
to them they remained sunk in silent thought. But when the saintly man discovered that
they were simply a band of peasants celebrating funeral rites, and not sacrifices to the
gods, again raising his hand, he gave them the power of going away, and of lifting up the
body. Thus he both compelled them to stand when he pleased, and permitted them to depart
when he thought good.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 Martin escapes from a Falling Pine-tree. 2 Again, when in a certain village he had
demolished a very ancient temple, and had set about cutting down a pine-tree, which stood
close to the temple, the chief priest of that place, and a crowd of other heathens began
to oppose him. And these people, though, under the influence of the Lord, they had been
quiet while the temple was being overthrown, could not patiently allow the tree to be cut
down. Martin carefully instructed them that there was nothing sacred in the trunk of a
tree, and urged them rather to honor God whom he himself served. He added that there was a
moral necessity why that tree should be cut down, because it had been dedicated to a
demon. Then one of them who was bolder than the others says, "If you have any trust in thy
God, whom you say you worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree, and be it your part
to receive it when falling; for if, as you declare, your Lord is with you, you will escape
all injury. Then Martin, courageously trusting in the Lord, promises that he would do what
had been asked. Upon this, all that crowd of heathen agreed to the condition named; for
they held the loss of their tree a small matter, if only they got the enemy of their
religion buried beneath its fall.

3 Accordingly, since that pine-tree was hanging over in one direction, so that there was
no doubt to what side it would fall on being cut, Martin, having been bound, is, in
accordance with the decision of these pagans, placed in that spot where, as no one
doubted, the tree was about to fall. They began, therefore, to cut down their own tree,
with great glee and joyfulness, while there was at some distance a great multitude of
wondering spectators. And now the pine-tree began to totter, and to threaten its own ruin
by falling. The monks at a distance grew pale, and, terrified by the danger ever coming
nearer, had lost all hope and confidence, expecting only the death of Martin. But he,
trusting in the Lord, and waiting courageously, when now the falling pine had uttered its
expiring crash, while it was now falling, while it was just rushing upon him,simply
holding up his hand against it, he put in its way the sign of salvation. Then, indeed,
after the manner of a spinning-top (one might have thought it driven back), it swept round
to the opposite side, to such a degree that it almost crushed the rustics, who had taken
their places there in what was deemed a safe spot. Then truly, a shout being raised to
heaven, the heathen were amazed by the miracle, while the monks wept for joy; and the name
of Christ was in common extolled by all. The well-known result was that on that day
salvation came to that region.

4 For there was hardly one of that immense multitude of heathens who did not express a
desire for the imposition of hands, and abandoning his impious errors, made a profession
of faith in the Lord Jesus. Certainly, before the times of Martin, very few, nay, almost
none, in those regions had received the name of Christ; but through his virtues and
example that name has prevailed to such an extent, that now there is no place thereabouts
which is not filled either with very crowded churches or monasteries. For wherever he
destroyed heathen temples, there he used immediately to build either churches or
monasteries.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 Martin destroys/Heathen females and Altars. 2 Nor did he show less eminence, much about
the same time, in other transactions of a like kind. For, having in a certain village set
fire to a very ancient and celebrated temple, the circle of flames was carried by the
action of the wind upon a house which was very close to, yea, connected with, the temple.
When Martin perceived this, he climbed by rapid ascent to the roof of the house,
presenting himself in front of the advancing flames. Then indeed might the fire have been
seen thrust back in a wonderful manner against the force of the wind, so that there
appeared a sort of conflict of the two elements fighting together. Thus, by the influence
of Martin, the fire only acted in the place where it was ordered to do so. But in a
village which was named Leprosum, when he too wished to overthrow a temple which had
acquired great wealth through the superstitious ideas entertained of its sanctity, a
multitude of the heathen resisted him to such a degree that he was driven back not without
bodily injury. He, therefore, withdrew to a place in the vicinity, and there for three
days, clothed in sackcloth and ashes fasting and praying the whole time, he besought the
Lord, that, as he had not been able to overthrow that temple by human effort, Divine power
might be exerted to destroy it.

3 Then two angels, with spears and shields after the manner of heavenly warriors, suddenly
presented themselves to him, saying that they were sent by the Lord to put to flight the
rustic multitude, and to furnish protection to Martin, lest, while the temple was being
destroyed, any one should offer resistance. They told him therefore to return, and
complete the blessed work which he had begun. Accordingly Martin returned to the village;
and while the crowds of heathen looked on in perfect quiet as he razed the pagan temple
even to the foundations, he also reduced all the altars and images to dust. At this sight
the rustics, when they perceived that they had been so astounded and terrified by an
intervention of the Divine will, that they might not be found fighting against the bishop,
almost all believed in the Lord Jesus. They then began to cry out openly and to confess
that the God of Martin ought to be worshiped, and that the idols should be despised, which
were not able to help them.

CHAPTER XV.

Martin offers his Neck to an Assassin. I shall also relate what took place in the village
of the Aedui. When Martin was there overthrowing a temple, a multitude of rustic heathen
rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage. And when one of them, bolder than the rest, made an
attack upon him with a drawn sword, Martin, throwing back his cloak, offered his bare neck
to the assassin. Nor did the heathen delay to strike, but in the very act of lifting up
his right arm, he fell to the ground on his back, and being overwhelmed by the fear of
God, he entreated for pardon. Not unlike this was that other event which happened to
Martin, that when a certain man had resolved to wound him with a knife as he was
destroying some idols, at the very moment of fetching the blow, the weapon was struck out
of his hands and disappeared. Very frequently, too, when the pagans were addressing him to
the effect that he would not overthrow their temples, he so soothed and conciliated the
minds of the heathen by his holy discourse that, the light of truth having been revealed
to them, they themselves overthrew their own temples.

CHAPTER XVI.

1 Cures effected by St. Martin. 2 Moreover, the gift of accomplishing cures was so largely
possessed by Martin, that scarcely any sick person came to him for assistance without
being at once restored to health. This will clearly appear from the following example. A
certain girl at Treves was so completely prostrated by a terrible paralysis that for a
long time she had been quite unable to make use of her body for any purpose, and being, as
it were, already dead, only the smallest breath of life seemed still to remain in her. Her
afflicted relatives were standing by, expecting nothing but her death, when it was
suddenly announced that Martin had come to that city. When the father of the girl found
that such was the case, he ran to make a request in behalf of his all but lifeless child.
It happened that Martin had already entered the church. There, while the people were
looking on, and in the presence of many other bishops, the old man, uttering a cry of
grief, embraced the saint's knees and said: "My daughter is dying of a miserable kind of
infirmity; and, what is more dreadful than death itself, she is now alive only in the
spirit, her flesh being already dead before the time. I beseech thee to go to her, and
give her thy blessing; for :I believe that through you she will be restored to health.
Martin, troubled by such an address, was bewildered, and shrank back, saying that this was
a matter not in his own hands;

3 that the old man was mistaken in the judgment he had formed; and that he was not worthy
to be the instrument through whom the Lord should make a display of his power. The father,
in tears, persevered in still more earnestly pressing the case, and entreated Martin to
visit the dying girl. At last, constrained by the bishops standing by to go as requested,
he went down to the home of the girl. An immense crowd was waiting at the doors, to see
what the servant of the Lord would do. And first, betaking himself to his familiar arms in
affairs of that kind, he cast himself down on the ground and prayed. Then gazing earnestly
upon the ailing girl, he requests that oil should be given him. After he had received and
blessed this, he poured the powerful sacred liquid into the mouth of the girl, and
immediately her voice returned to her. Then gradually, through contact with him, her limbs
began, one by one, to recover life, till, at last, in the presence of the people, she
arose with firm steps.

CHAPTER XVII.

1 Martin casts out Several Devils. At the same time the servant of one Tetradius, a man of
proconsular rank, having been laid hold of by a demon, was tormented with the most
miserable results. Martin, therefore, having been asked to lay his hands on him, ordered
the servant to be brought to him; but the evil spirit could, in no way, be brought forth
from the cell in which he was: he showed himself so fearful, with ferocious teeth, to
those who attempted to draw near. Then Tetradius throws himself at the feet of the saintly
man, imploring that he himself would go down to the house in which the possessed of the
devil was kept. But Martin then declared that he could not visit the house of an
unconverted heathen. For Tetradius, at that time, was still involved in the errors of
heathenism. He, therefore, pledges his word that if the demon were driven out of the boy,
he would become a Christian. Martin, then, laying his hand upon the boy, cast the evil
spirit out of him. On seeing this, Tetradius believed in the Lord Jesus, and immediately
became a catechumen, while, not long after, he was baptized; and he always regarded Martin
with extraordinary affection, as having been the author of his salvation.

2 About the same time, having entered the dwelling of a certain householder in the same
town, he stopped short at the very threshold, and said, that he perceived a horrible demon
in the courtyard of the house. When Martin ordered it to depart, it laid hold of a certain
member of the family, who was staying in the inner part of the house; and the poor wretch
began at once to rage with his teeth, and to lacerate whomsoever he met. The house was
thrown into disorder; the family was in confusion; and the people present took to flight.
Martin threw himself in the way of the frenzied creature, and first of all commanded him
to stand still. But when he continued to gnash with his teeth, and, with gaping mouth, was
threatening to bite, Martin inserted his fingers into his mouth, and said, "Ifyou possess
any power, devour these." But then, as if redhot iron had entered his jaws, drawing his
teeth far away he took care not to touch the fingers of the saintly man; and when he was
compelled by punishments and tortures, to flee out of the possessed body, while he had no
power of escaping by the mouth, he was cast out by means of a defluxion of the belly,
leaving disgusting traces behind him.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Martin performs Various Miracles. In the meanwhile, as a sudden report had troubled the
city as to the movement and inroad of the barbarians, Martin orders a possessed person to
be set before him, and commanded him to declare whether this message was true or not. Then
he confessed that there were sixteen demons who had spread this report among the people,
in order that by the fear thus excited, Martin might have to flee from the city, but that,
in fact, nothing was less in the minds of the barbarians than to make any inroad. When the
unclean spirit thus acknowledged these things in the midst of the church, the city was set
free from the fear and tumult which had at the time been felt. At Paris, again, when
Martin was entering the gate of the city, with large crowds attending him, he gave a kiss
to a leper, of miserable appearance, while all shuddered at seeing him do so; and Martin
blessed him, with the result that he was instantly cleansed from all his misery. On the
following day, the man appearing in the church with a healthy skin, gave thanks for the
soundness of body which he had recovered. This fact, too, ought not to be passed over in
silence, that threads from Martin's garment, or such as had been plucked from the
sackcloth which he wore, wrought frequent miracles upon those who were sick. For, by
either being tied round the fingers or placed about the neck, they very often drove away
diseases from the afflicted.

CHAPTER XIX.

1 A Letter of Martin effects a Cure, with OtherMiracles. Further, Arborius, an ex-prefect,
and a man of a very holy and faithful character, while his daughter was in agony from the
burning fever of a quartan ague, inserted in the bosom of the girl, at the very paroxysm
of the heat, a letter of Martin which happened to have been brought to him, and
immediately the fever was dispelled. This event had such an influence upon Arborius, that
he at once consecrated the girl to God, and devoted her to perpetual virginity. Then,
proceeding to Martin, he presented the girl to him, as an obvious living example of his
power of working miracles, inasmuch as she had been cured by him though absent; and he
would not suffer her to be consecrated by any other than Martin, through his placing upon
her the dress characteristic of virginity. 2 Paulinus, too, a man who was afterwards to
furnish a striking example of the age, having begun to suffer grievously in one of his
eyes, and when a pretty thick skin having grown over it had already covered up its pupil,
Martin touched his eye with a painter's brush, and, all pain being removed, thus restored
it to its former soundness. He himself also, when, by a certain accident, he had fallen
out of an upper room, and tumbling down a broken, uneven stair, had received many wounds,
as he lay in his cell at the point of death, and was tortured with grievous sufferings,
saw in the night an angel appear to him, who washed his wounds, and applied healing
ointment to the bruised members of his body. As the effect of this, he found himself on
the morrow restored to soundness of health, so that he was not thought to have suffered
any harm. But because it would be tedious to go through everything of this kind, let these
examples suffice, as a few out of a multitude; and let it be enough that we do not in
Striking cases ['of miraculous interposition] detract from the truth, while, having so
many to choose from, we avoid exciting weariness in the reader.

CHAPTER XX.

1 How Martin acted towards the EmperorMaximus. 2 And here to insert some smaller matters
among things so great (although such is the nature of our times in which all things have
fallen into decay and corruption, it is almost a pre-eminent virtue for priestly firmness
not to have yielded to royal flattery), when a number of bishops from various parts had
assembled to the Emperor Maximus, a man of fierce character, and at that time elated with
the victory he had won in the civil wars, and when the disgraceful flattery of all around
the emperor was generally remarked, while the priestly dignity had, with degenerate
submissiveness, taken a second place to the royal retinue, in Martin alone, apostolic
authority continued to assert itself. For even if he had to make suit to the sovereign for
some things, he commanded rather than entreated him; and although often invited, he kept
away from his entertainments, saying that he could not take a place at the table of one
who, out of two emperors, had deprived one of his kingdom, and the other of his life.

3 At last, when Maximus maintained that he had not of his own accord assumed the
sovereignty, but that he had simply defended by arms the necessary requirements of the
empire, regard to which had been imposed upon him by the soldiers, according to the Divine
appointment, and that the favor of God did not seem wanting to him who, by an event
seemingly so incredible, had secured the victory, adding to that the statement that none
of his adversaries had beenslain except in the open field of battle, at length, Martin,
overcome either by his reasoning or his entreaties, came to the royal banquet. The king
was wonderfully pleased because he had gained this point. Moreover, there were guests
present who had been invited as if to a festival; men of the highest and most illustrious
rank,-the prefect, who was also consul, named Evodius, one of the most righteous men that
ever lived; two courtiers possessed of the greatest power, the brother and uncle of the
king, while between these two, the presbyter of Martin had taken his place; but he himself
occupied a seat which was set quite close to the king. About the middle of the banquet,
according to custom, one of the servants presented a goblet to the king. He orders it
rather to be given to the very holy bishop, expecting and hoping that he should then
receive the cup from his right hand.

4 But Martin, when he had drunk, handed the goblet to his own presbyter, as thinking no
one worthier to drink next to himself, and holding that it would, not be right for him to
prefer either the king himself, or those who were next the king, to the presbyter. And the
emperor, as well as all those who were then present, admired this conduct so much, that
this very thing, by which they had been undervalued, gave them pleasure. The report then
ran through the whole palace that Martin had done, at the king's dinner, what no bishop
had dared to do at the banquets of the lowest judges. And Martin predicted to the same
Maximus long before, that if he went into Italy to which he then desired to go, waging
war, against the Emperor Valentinianus, it would come to pass that he should know he would
indeed be victorious in the First attack, but would perish a short time afterwards. And we
have seen that this did in fact take place. For, on his first arrival Valentinianus had to
betake himself to flight but recovering his strength about a year after. wards, Maximus
was taken and slain by him within the walls of Aquileia.

CHAPTER XXI.

1 Martin has to do both with Angels and Devils. 2 IT is also well known that angels were
very often' seen by him, so that they spoke in turns with him in set speech. As to the
devil, Martin held him so visible and ever under the power of his eyes, that whether he
kept himself in his proper form, or changed himself into different shapes of spiritual
wickedness, he was perceived by Martin, under whatever guise he appeared. The devil knew
well that he could not escape discovery, and therefore frequently heaped in suits upon
Martin, being unable to beguile him by trickery. On one occasion the devil, holding in his
hand the bloody horn of an ox rushed into Martin's cell with great noise, and holding out
to him his bloody right hand, while at the same time he exulted in the crime he had
committed, said: "Where, O Martin, is thy power? I have just slain one of your people.
Then Martin assembled the brethren, and related to them what the devil had disclosed,
while he ordered them carefully to search the several cells in order to discover who had
been visited with this calamity. They report that no one of the monks was missing, but
that one peasant, hired by them, had gone to the forest to bring home wood in his wagon.
Upon hearing this, Martin instructs some of them to go and meet him. On their doing so,
the man was found almost dead at no great distance from the monastery.

3 Nevertheless, although just drawing his last breath, he made known to the brethren the
cause of his wound and death. He said that, while he was drawing tighter the thongs which
had got loose on the oxen yoked together, one of the oxen, throwing his head free, had
wounded him with his horn in the groin. And not long after the man expired. You see with
what judgment of the Lord this power was given to the devil. This was a marvelous feature
in Martin that not only on this occasion to which I have specially referred, but on many
occasions of the same kind, in fact as often as such things occurred, he perceived them
long beforehand, and disclosed the things which had been revealed to him to the brethren.

CHAPTER XXII.

1 Martin preaches Repentance even to the Devil. 2 Now, the devil, while he tried to impose
upon the holy man by a thousand injurious arts, often thrust himself upon him in a visible
form, but in very various shapes. For sometimes he presented himself to his view changed
into the person of Jupiter, often into that of Mercury and Minerva. Often, too, were heard
words of reproach, in which the crowd of demons assailed Martin with scurrilous
expressions. But knowing that all were false and groundless, he was not affected by the
charges brought against him. Moreover, some of the brethren bore witness that they had
heard a demon reproaching Martin in abusive terms, and asking why he had taken back, on
their subsequent repentance, certain of the brethren who had, some time previously, lost
their baptism by falling into various errors. The demon set forth the crimes of each of
them; but they added that Martin, resisting the devil firmly, answered him, that by-past
sins are cleansed away by the leading of a better life, and that through the mercy of God,
those are to be absolved from their sins who have given up their evil ways. The devil
saying in opposition to this that such guilty men as those referred to did not come within
the pale of pardon, and that no mercy was extended by the Lord to those who had once
fallen away, Martin is said to have cried out in words to the following effect:

3 "If thou, thyself, wretched being, wouldst but desist from attacking mankind, and even,
at this period, when the day of judgment is at hand, wouldst only repent of your deeds, I,
with a true confidence in the Lord, would promise you the mercy of Christ. O what a holy
boldness with respect to the loving-kindness of the Lord, in which, although he could not
assert authority, he nevertheless showed the feelings dwelling within him! And since our
discourse has here sprung up concerning the devil and his devices, it does not seem away
from the point, although the matter does not bear immediately upon Martin, to relate what
took place; both because the virtues of Martin do, to some extent, appear in the
transaction, and the incident, which was worthy of a miracle, will properly be put on
record, with the view of furnishing a caution, should anything of a similar character
subsequently occur.

CHAPTER XXIII.

1 A Case of Diabolic Deception. 2 There was a certain man, Clarus by name, a most noble
youth, who afterwards became a presbyter, and who is now, through his happy departure from
this world, numbered among the saints. He, leaving all others, betook himself to Martin,
and in a short time became distinguished for the most exalted faith, and for all sorts of
excellence. Now, it came to pass that, when he had erected an abode for himself not far
from the monastery of the bishop, and many brethren were staying with him, a certain
youth, Anatolius by name, having, under the profession of a monk, falsely assumed every
appearance of humility and innocence, came to him, and lived for some time on the common
store along with the rest. Then, as time went on, he began to affirm that angels were in
the habit of talking with him. As no one gave any credit to his words, he urged a number
of the brethren to believe by certain signs. At length he went to such a length as to
declare that angels passed between him and God; and now he wished that he should be
regarded as one of the prophets. Clarus, however, could by no means be induced to believe.
He then began to threaten Clarus with the anger of God and present afflictions, because he
did not believe one of the saints. At the last, he is related to have burst forth with the
following declaration:

3 "Behold, the Lordwill this night give me a white robe out of heaven, clothed in which, I
will dwell in the midst of you; and that will be to you a sign that I am the Power of God,
inasmuch as I have been presented with the garment of God. Then truly the expectation of
all was highly raised by this profession. Accordingly, about the middle of the night, it
was seen, by the noise of people moving eagerly about, that the whole monastery in the
place was excited. It might be seen, too, that the cell in which the young man referred to
lived was glittering with numerous lights; and the whisperings of those moving about in
it, as well as a kind of murmur of many. voices, could be heard. Then, on silence
beingsecured, the youth coming forth calls one of the l t brethren, Sabatius by name, to
himself, and shows t him the robe in which he had been clothed. He again, filled with
amazement, gathers the rest together, and Clarus himself also runs up; and a light being
obtained, they all carefully inspect the garment. Now, it was of the utmost softness, of
marvelous brightness, and of glittering purple, and yet no one could discover what was its
nature, or of what sort of fleece it had been formed. However, when it was more minutely
examined by the eyes or fingers, it seemed nothing else than a garment.

4 In the meantime, Clarus urges upon the brethren to be earnest in prayer, that the Lord
would show them more clearly what it really was. Accordingly, the rest of the night was
spent in singing hymns and psalms. But when day broke, Clarus wished to take the young man
by the hand, and bring him to Martin, being well aware that he could not be deceived by
any arts of the devil. Then, indeed, the miserable man began to resist and refuse, and
affirmed that he had been forbidden to show himself to Martin. And when they compelled him
to go against his will, the garment vanished from among the hands of those who were
conducting him. Wherefore, who can doubt that this, too, was an illustration of the power
of Martin, so that the devil could no longer dissemble or conceal his own deception, when
it was to be submitted to the eyes of Martin?

CHAPTER XXIV.

1 Martin is tempted by the Wiles of the Devil. 2 It was found, again, that about the same
time there was a young man in Spain, who, having by many signs obtained for himself
authority among the people, was puffed up to such a pitch that he gave himself out as
being Elias. And when multitudes had too readily believed this, he went on to say that he
was actually Christ; and he succeeded so well even in this delusion that a certain bishop
named Rufus worshiped him as being the Lord. For so doing, we have seen this bishop at a
later date deprived of his office. Many of the brethren have also informed me that at the
same time one arose in the East, who boasted that he was John. We may infer from this,
since false prophets of such a kind have appeared, that the coming of Antichrist is at
hand; for he is already practicing in these persons the mystery of iniquity. And truly I
think this point should not be passed over, with what arts the devil about this very time
tempted Martin.

3 For, on a certain day, prayer having been previously offered, and the fiend himself
being surrounded by a purple light, in order that he might the more easily deceive people
by the brilliance of the splendor assumed, clothed also in a royal robe, and with a crown
of precious stones and gold encircling his head, his shoes too being inlaid with gold,
while he presented a tranquil countenance, and a generally rejoicing aspect, so that no
such thought as that he was the devil might be entertained-he stood by the side of Martin
as he was praying in his cell. The saint being dazzled by his first appearance, both
preserved a long and deep silence. This was first broken by the devil, who said:
"Acknowledge, Martin, who it is that you behold. I am Christ; and being just about to
descend to earth, I wished first to manifest myself to thee. When Martin kept silence on
hearing these words, and gave no answer whatever, the devil dared to repeat his audacious
declaration: "Martin, why do you hesitate to believe, when you see? I am Christ. Then
Martin, the Spirit revealing the truth to him, that he might understand it was the devil,
and not God, replied as follows: "The Lord Jesus did not predict that he would come
clothed in purple, and with a glittering crown upon his head. I will not believe that
Christ has come, unless he appears with that appearance and form in which he suffered, and
openly displaying the marks of his wounds upon the cross.

4 On hearing these words, the devil vanished like smoke, and filled the cell with such a
disgusting smell, that he left unmistakable evidences of his real character. This event,
as I have just related, took place in the way which I have stated, and my information
regarding it was derived from the lips of Martin himself; therefore let no one regard it
as fabulous.

CHAPTER XXV.

1 Intercourse of Sulpitius with Martin. 2 For since I, having long heard accounts of his
faith, life and virtues, burned with a desire of knowing him. I undertook what was to me a
pleasant journey for the purpose of seeing him. At the same time, because already my mind
was inflamed with the desire of writing his life, I obtained my information partly from
himself, in so far as I could venture to question him, and partly from those who had lived
with him, or well knew the facts of the case. And at this time it is scarcely credible
with what humility and with what kindness he received me; while he cordially wished me
joy, and rejoiced in the Lord that he had been held in such high estimation by me that I
had undertaken a journey owing to my desire of seeing him. Unworthy me! (in fact, I hardly
dare acknowledge it), that he should have deigned to admit me to fellowship with him! He
went so far as in person to present me with water to wash my hands, and at eventide he
himself washed my feet; nor had I sufficient courage to resist or oppose his doing so. In
fact, I felt so overcome by the authority he unconsciously exerted, that I deemed it
unlawful to do anything but acquiesce in his arrangements. His conversation with me was
all directed to such points as the following:

3 that the allurements of this world and secular burdens were to be abandoned in order
that we might be free and unencumbered in following the Lord Jesus; and he pressed upon me
as an admirable example in present circumstances the conduct of that distinguished man
Paulinus, of whom I have made mention above. Martin declared of him that, by parting with
his great possessions and following Christ, as he did, he showed himself almost the only
one who in these times had fully obeyed the precepts of the Gospel. He insisted strongly
that that was the man who should be made the object of our imitation, adding that the
present age was fortunate in possessing such a model of faith and virtue. For Paulinus,
being rich and having many possessions, by selling them all and giving them to the poor
according to the expressed will of the Lord, had, he said, made possible by actual proof
what appeared impossible of accomplishment. What power and dignity there were in Martin's
words and conversation! How active he was, how practical, and how prompt and ready in
solving questions connected with Scripture! And because I know that many are incredulous
on this point,-for indeed I have met with persons who did not believe me when I related
such things,-I call to witness Jesus, and our common hope as Christians, that I never
heard from any other lips than those of Martin such exhibitions of knowledge and genius,
or such specimens of good and pure speech.

4 But yet, how insignificant is all such praise when compared with the virtues which he
possessed! Still, it is remarkable that in a man who had no claim to be called learned,
even this attribute [of high intelligence] was not wanting.

CHAPTER XXVI.

1 Words cannot describe the Excellences of Martin. 2 But now my book must be brought to an
end, and my discourse finished. This is not because all that was worthy of being said
concerning Martin is now exhausted, but because I, just as sluggish poets grow less
careful towards the end of their work, give over, being baffled by the immensity of the
matter. For, although his outward deeds could in some sort of way be set forth in words,
no language, I truly own, can ever be capable of describing his inner life and daily
conduct, and his mind always bent upon the things of heaven. No one can adequately make
known his perseverance and self-mastery in abstinence and fastings, or his power in
watchings and prayers, along with the nights, as well as days, which were spent by him,
while not a moment was separated from the service of God, either for indulging in ease, or
engaging in business. But, in fact, he did not indulge either in food or sleep, except in
so far as the necessities of nature required. I freely confess that, if, as the saying is,
Homer himself were to ascend from the shades below, he could not do justice to this
subject in words; to such an extent did all excellences surpass in Martin the possibility
of being embodied in language. Never did a single hour or moment pass in which he was not
either actually engaged in prayer; or, if it happened that he was occupied with something
else, still he never let his mind loose from prayer.

3 In truth, just as it is the custom of blacksmiths, in the midst of their work to beat
their own anvil as a sort of relief to the laborer, so Martin even when he appeared to be
doing something else, was still engaged in prayer. O truly blessed man in whom there was
no guile-judging no man, condemning no man, returning evil for evil to no man! He
displayed indeed such marvelous patience in the endurance of injuries, that even when he
was chief priest, he allowed himself to be wronged by the lowest clerics with impunity;
nor did he either remove them from the office on account of such conduct, or, as far as in
him lay, repel them from a place in his affection.

CHAPTER XXVII.

1 Wonderful Piety of Martin. 2 No one ever saw him enraged, or excited, or lamenting, or
laughing; he was always one and the same: displaying a kind of heavenly happiness in his
countenance, he seemed to have passed the ordinary limits of human nature. Never was there
any word on his lips but Christ, and never was there a feeling in his heart except piety,
peace, and tender mercy. Frequently, too, he used to weep for the sins of those who showed
themselves his revilers-those who, as he led his retired and tranquil life, slandered him
with poisoned tongue and a viper's mouth. And truly we have had experience of some who
were envious of his virtues and his life-who really hated in him what they did not see in
themselves, and what they had not power to imitate. And-O wickedness worthy of deepest
grief and groans!-some of his calumniators, although very few, some of his maligners, I
say, were reported to be no others than bishops! Here, however, it is not necessary to
name any one, although a good many of these people are still venting their spleen against
myself. I shall deem it sufficient that, if any one of them reads this account, and
perceives that he is himself pointed at, he may have the grace to blush. But if, on the
other hand, he shows anger, he will, by that very fact, own that he is among those spoken
of, though all the time perhaps I have been thinking of some other person.

3 I shall, however, by no means feel ashamed if any people of that sort include myself in
their hatred along with such a man as Martin. I am quite persuaded of this, that the
present little work will give pleasure to all truly good men. And I shall only say further
that, if any one read this narrative in an unbelieving spirit, he himself will fall into
sin. I am conscious to myself that I have been induced by belief in the facts, and by the
love of Christ, to write these things; and that, in doing so, I have set forth what is
well known, and recorded what is true; and, as I trust, that man will have a reward
prepared by God, not who shall read these things, but who shall believe them.


LETTERS
=======

LETTERS Sulpicius Severus

c. AD 363–425

Biographer of Martin of Tours and church historian.

LETTER 1. TO EUSEBIUS

1 Against Some Envious Assailants of Martin. 2 Yesterday a number of monks having come to
me, it happened that amid endless fables, and much tiresome discourse, mention was made of
the little work which I published concerning the life of that saintly man Martin, and I
was most happy to hear that it was being eagerly and carefully read by multitudes. In the
meantime, however, I was told that a certain person, under the influence of an evil
spirit, had asked why Martin, who was said to have raised the dead and to have rescued
houses from the flames, had himself recently become subject to the power of fire, and thus
been exposed to suffering of a dangerous character. Wretched man, whoever he is, that
expressed himself thus! We recognize his perfidious talk in the words of the Jews of old,
who reviled the Lord, when hanging upon the cross, in the following terms: "He saved
others; himself he cannot save. Truly it is clear that, whoever be the person referred to,
if he had lived in those times, he would have been quite prepared to speak against the
Lord in these terms, inasmuch as he blasphemes a saint of the Lord, after a like fashion.
How then, I askthee, whosoever thou art, how does the casestand? Was Martin really not
possessed of power, and not a partaker of holiness, becausehe became exposed to danger
from fire? O thou blessed man, and in all things like to the Apostles, even in the
reproaches which are thus heaped upon thee!

3 Assuredly those Gentiles are reported to have entertained the same sort of thought
respecting Paul also, when the viper had bitten him, for they said, "This man must be a
murderer, whom, although saved from the sea, the fates do not permit to live. But he,
shaking off the viper into the fire, suffered no harm. They, however, imagined that he
would suddenly fall down, and speedily die; but whenthey saw that no harm befell him,
changing theirminds, they said that he was a God. But, O thou most miserable of men, you
ought, even from that example to have yourself been convinced of your falsity; so that, if
it had proved a stumbling-block to thee that Martin appeared touched by the flame of fire,
you should, on the other hand, have ascribed his being merely touched to his merits and
power, because, though surrounded by flames, he did not perish. For acknowledge, thou
miserable man, acknowledge what you seem ignorant of, that almost all the saints have been
more remarkable for the dangers they encountered, than even for the virtues they
displayed. I see, indeed, Peter strong in faith, walking over the waves of the sea, in
opposition to the nature of things, and that he pressed the unstable waters with his
footprints. But not on that account does the preacher of the Gentiles seem to me a smaller
man, whom the waves swallowed up; and, after three days and three nights, the water
restored him emerging from the deep.

4 Nay, I am almost inclined to think that it was a greater thing to have lived in the
deep, than to have walked along the depths of the sea. But, thou foolish man, you had not,
as I suppose, read these things; or, having read them, had not understood them. For the
blessed Evangelist would not have recorded in holy writ an incident of that kind -under
divine guidance-(except that, from such cases, the human mind might be instructed as to
the dangers connected with shipwrecks and serpents! and, as the Apostle relates, who
gloried in his nakedness, and hunger, and perils from robbers, all these things are indeed
to be endured in common by holy men, but that it has always been the chief excellence of
the righteous in enduring and conquering such things, while amid all their trials, being
patient and ever unconquerable, they overcame them all the more courageously, the heavier
was the burden which they had to bear. Hence this event which is ascribed to the infirmity
of Martin is, in reality, full of dignity and glory, since indeed, being tried by a most
dangerous calamity, he came forth a conqueror. But let no one wonder that the incident
referred to was omitted by me in that treatise which I wrote concerning his life, since in
that very work I openly acknowledged that I had not embraced all his acts; and that for
the good reason that, if I had been minded to narrate them all, I must have presented an
enormous volume to my readers.

5 And indeed, his achievements were not of so limited a number that they could all be
comprehended in a book. Nevertheless, I shall not leave this incident, about which a
question has arisen, to remain in obscurity, but shall relate the whole affair as it
occurred, lest I should appear perchance to have intentionally passed over that which
might be put forward in calumniation of the saintly man. 6 Martin having, about the middle
of winter, come to a certain parish, according to the usual custom for the bishops to
visit the churches in the diocese, the clerics had prepared an abode for him in the
private part of the church, and had kindled a large fire beneath the floor which was
decayed and very thin. They also erected for him a couch consisting of a large amount of
straw. Then, when Martin betook himself to rest, he was annoyed with the softness of the
too luxurious bed, inasmuch as he had been accustomed to lie on the bare ground with only
a piece of sackcloth stretched over him. Accordingly, influenced by the injury which had,
as it were, been done him, he threw aside the whole of the straw. Now, it so happened that
part of the straw which he had thus removed fell upon the stove. He himself, in the
meantime, rested, as was his wont, upon the bare ground, tired out by his long journey.
About midnight, the fire bursting up through the stove which, as I have said, was far from
sound, laid hold of the dry straw. Martin, being wakened outof sleep by this unexpected
occurrence, and being prevented by the pressing danger, but chiefly, as he afterwards
related, by the snares and urgency of the devil, was longer than he ought to have been in
having recourse to the aid of prayer. For, desiring to get outside, he struggled long and
laboriously with the bolt by which he had secured the door.

7 Ere long he perceived that he was surrounded by a fearful conflagration; and the fire
had even laid hold of the garment with which he was clothed. At length recovering his
habitual conviction that his safety lay not in flight, but in the Lord, and seizing the
shield of faith and prayer, committing himself entirely to the Lord, he lay down in the
midst of the flames. Then truly, the fire having been removed by divine interposition, he
continued to pray amid a circle of flames that did him no harm. But the monks, who were
before the door, hearing the sound of the crackling and struggling fire, broke open the
barred door; and, the fire being extinguished, they brought forth Martin from the midst of
the flames, all the time supposing that he must ere then have been burnt to ashes by a
fire of so long continuance. Now, as the Lord is my witness, he himself related to me, and
not without groans, confessed that he was in this matter beguiled by the arts of the
devil; in that, when roused from sleep, he did not take the wise course of repelling the
danger by means of faith. and prayer. He also added that the flames raged around him all
the time that, with a distempered mind, he strove to throw open the door.

8 But he declared that as soon as he again sought assistance from the cross, and tried the
Weapons of prayer, the central flames gave way, and that he then felt them shedding a dewy
refreshment over him, after having just experienced how cruelly they burned him.
Considering all which, let every one who reads this letter understand that Martin was
indeed tried by that danger, but passed through it with true acceptance.

LETTER 2. TO THE DEACON AURELIUS

1 Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin. Sulpitius Severus to Aurelius the Deacon sendeth
greeting,- 2 After you had departed from me in the morning, I was sitting alone in my
cell; and there occurred to me, as often happens, that hope of the future which I cherish,
along with a weariness of the present world, a terror of judgment, a fear of punishment,
and, as a consequence, indeed as the source from which the whole train of thought had
flowed, a remembrance of my sins, which had rendered me worn and miserable. Then, after I
had placed on my couch my limbs fatigued with the anguish of my mind, sleep crept upon me,
as frequently happens from melancholy; and such sleep, as it is always somewhat light and
uncertain in the morning hours, so it pervaded my members only in a hovering and doubtful
manner. Thus it happens, what does not occur in a different kind of slumber, that one can
feel he is dreaming while almost awake. In these circumstances, I seemed suddenly to see
St. Martin appear to me in the character of a bishop, clothed in a White robe, with a
countenance as of fire, with eyes like stars, and with purple hair. He thus appeared to me
with that aspect and form of body which I had known, so that I find it almost difficult to
say what I mean-he could not be steadfastly beheld, though he could be clearly recognized.
Well, directing a gentle smile towards me, he held out in his right hand the small
treatise which I had written concerning his life.

3 I, for my part, embraced his sacred knees, and begged for his blessing according to
custom. Upon this, I felt his hand placed on my head with the sweetest touch, while, amid
the solemn words of benediction, he repeated again and again the name of the cross so
familiar to his lips. Ere long, while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon him, and when I
could not satisfy myself with gazing upon his countenance, he was suddenly taken away from
me and raised on high. At last, having passed through the vast expanse of the air, while
my straining eyes followed him ascending in a rapidly moving cloud, he could no longer be
seen by me gazing after him. And not long after, I saw the holy presbyter Clarus, a
disciple of Martin's who had lately died, ascend in the same way as I had seen his master.
I, impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at and strive after such lofty steps,
suddenly wake up; and, being roused from sleep, I had begun to rejoice over the vision,
when a boy, a servant in the family, enters to me with a countenance sadder than is usual
with one who gives utterance to his grief in words. "What," I enquire of him, "doyou wish
to tell me with so melancholy an aspect? "Two monks," he replied, "have just been here
from Tours, and they have brought word that Martin is dead. I confess that I was cut to
the heart ; and bursting into tears, I wept most abundantly.

4 Nay, ever now, as I write these things to you, brother, my tears are flowing, and I find
no consolation for my all but unbearable sorrow. And I should wish you, when this news
reaches you, to be a partaker in my grief, as you were a sharer with me in his love. Come
then, I beg of you, to me without delay, that we may mourn in common him whom in common we
love. And yet I am well aware that such a man ought not to be mourned over, to whom, after
his victory and triumph over the world, there has now at last been given the crown of
righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot so command myself as to keep from grieving. I have,
no doubt, sent on before me one whowill plead my cause in heaven, but I have, atthe same
time, lost my great source of consolation in this present life; yet if grief would yield
to the influence of reason, I certainly ought to rejoice. For he is now mingling among the
Apostles and Prophets, and (with all respect for the saints on high be it said) he is
second to no one in that assembly of the righteous as I firmly hope, believe, and trust,
being joined especially to those who washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb. He now
follows the Lamb as his guide, free from all spot of defilement.

5 For although the character of our times could not ensure him the honor of martyrdom, yet
he will not remain destitute of the glory of a martyr, because both by vow and virtues he
was alike able and willing to be a martyr. But if he had been permitted, in the times of
Nero and of Decius, to take part in the struggle which then went on, I take to witness the
God of heaven and earth that he would freely have submitted to the rack of torture, and
readily surrendered himself to the flames: yea, worthy of being compared to the
illustrious Hebrew youths, amid the circling flames, and though in the very midst of the
furnace, he would have sung a hymn of the Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the
persecutor to inflict upon him the punishment which Isaiah endured, he would never have
shown himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have shrunk from having his members torn
in pieces by saws and swords. And if impious fury had preferred to drive the blessed man
over precipitous rocks or steep mountains, I maintain that, clinging to the testimony of
truth he would willingly have fallen. But if, after the example of the teacher of the
Gentiles, as indeed often happened, he had been included among other victims who were
condemned to die by the sword, he would have been foremost to urge on the executioner to
his work that he might obtain the crown of blood.

6 And, in truth, far from shrinking from a confession of the Lord, in the face of all
those penalties and punishments, which frequently prove too much for human infirmity, he
would have stood so immovable as to have smiled with joy and gladness over the sufferings
and torments he endured, whatever might have been the tortures inflicted upon him. But
although he did in fact suffer none of these things, yet he fully attained to the honor of
martyrdom without shedding his blood. For what agonies of human sufferings did he not
endure in behalf of the hope of eternal life, in hunger, in watchings, in nakedness, in
fastings, in reproachings of the malignant, in persecutions of the wicked, in care for the
weak, in anxiety for those in danger? For who ever suffered but Martin suffered along with
him? Who was made to stumble and he burnt not? Who perished, and he did not mourn deeply?
Besides those daily struggles which he carried on against the various conflicts with human
and spiritual wickedness, while invariably, as he was assailed with divers temptations,
there prevailed in his case fortitude in conquering, patience in waiting, and placidity in
enduring. O man, truly indescribable in piety, mercy, love, which daily grows cold even in
holy men through the coldness of the world, but which in his case increased onwards to the
end, and endured from day to day!

7 I, for my part, had the happiness of enjoying this grace in him even in an eminent
degree, for he loved me in a special manner, though I was far from meriting such
affection. And, on the remembrance, yet again my tears burst forth, while groans issue
from the bottom of my heart. In what man shall I for the future find such repose for my
spirit as I did in him? and in whose love shall I enjoy like consolation? Wretched being
that I am, sunk in affliction, can I ever, if life be spared me, cease to lament that I
have survived Martin? Shall there in future be to me any pleasure in life, or any day or
hour free from tears; or can I ever, my dearest brother, make mention of him to you
without lamentation? And yet, in conversing with you, can I ever talk of any other subject
than him? But why do I stir you up to tears and lamentations? So I now desire you to be
comforted, although I am unable to console myself. He will not be absent from us; believe
me, he will never, never forsake us, but will be present with us as we discourse regarding
him, and will be near to us as we pray; and the happiness which he has even to-day deigned
to bestow, even that of seeing him in his glory, he will frequently in future afford; and
he will protect us, as he did but a little while ago, with his unceasing benediction.

8 Then again, according to the arrangement of the vision, he showed that heaven was open
to those following him, anti taught us to what we ought to follow him; he instructed us to
what objects our hope should be directed, and to what attainment our mind should be
turned. Yet, my brother, what is to be done? For, as I am myself well aware, I shall never
be able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate into those blessed regions. To such
a degree does a miserable burden press me down; and while I cannot, through the load of
sin which overwhelms me, secure an ascent to heaven, thecruel pressure rather sinks me in
my misery to u the place of despair. Nevertheless, hope remains, one last and solitary
hope, that, what I cannot obtain of myself, I may, at any rate, be thought worthy of,
through the prayers of Martin in my behalf. But why, brother, should I longer i occupy
your time with a letter which has turned out so garrulous, and thus delay you from coming
to me? At the same time, my page being now filled, can admit no more. This, however, was
my object in prolonging my discourse to a somewhat undue extent, that, since this letter
conveys to you a message of sorrow, it might also furnish you with consolation, through my
sort of friendly conversation with you.

LETTER 3. TO BASSULA

1 How St. Martin passed from this Life to LifeEternal. Sulpitius Severus to Bassula, his
venerable parent, sendeth greeting. 2 If it were lawful that parents should be summoned to
court by their children, clearly I might drag you with a righteous thong before the
tribunal of the praetor, on a charge of robbery and plunder. For why should I not complain
of the injury which I have suffered at your hands? You have left me no little bit of
writing at home, no book, not even a letter-to such a degree do you play the thief with
all such things and publish them to the world. If I write anything in familiar style to a
friend; if, as I amuse myself I dictate anything with the wish at the same time that it
should be kept private, all such things seem to reach you almost before they have been
written or spoken. Surely you have my secretaries in your debt, since through them any
trifles I compose are made known to you. And yet I cannot be moved with anger against them
if they really obey you, and have invaded my rights under the special influence of your
generosity to them, and ever bear in mind that they belong to you rather than to me. Yes,
thou alone art the culprit-thou alone art to blame-inasmuch as you both lay your snares
for me, and cajole them with your trickery, so that without making any selection, pieces
written familiarly, or let out of hand without care, are sent to thee quite unelaborated
and unpolished.

3 For, to say nothing about other writings, I beg to ask how that letter could reach you
so speedily, which I recently wrote to Aurelius the Deacon. For, as I was situated at
Toulouse, while you were dwelling at Treves, and were so far distant from your native
land, owing to the anxiety felt on account of your son, what opportunity, I should like to
know, did you avail yourself of, to get hold of that familiar epistle? For I have received
your letter in which you write that I ought in the same epistle in which I made men; lion
of the death of our master, Martin, to have described the manner in which that saintly man
left this world. As if, indeed, I had either given forth that epistle with the view of its
being read by any other except him to whom it purported to be sent; or as if I were fated
to undertake so great a work as that all things which should be known respecting Martin
are to be made public through me particularly as the writer. Therefore, if you desire to
learn anything concerning the end of the saintly bishop, you should direct your enquiries
rather to those who were present when his death occurred. I for my part have resolved to
write nothing to you lest you publish me everywhere. Nevertheless if you pledge your word
that you will read to no one what I send you, I shall satisfy your desire in a few words.

4 Accordingly I shall communicate to you the following particulars which are comprised
within my own knowledge. 5 I have to state, then, that Martin was aware of the period of
his own death long before it occurred, and told the brethren that his departure from the
body was at hand. In the meantime, a reason sprang up which led him to visit the church at
Condate. For, as the clerics of that church were at variance among themselves, Martin,
wishing to restore peace, although he well knew that the end of his own days was at hand,
yet he did not shrink from undertaking the journey, with such an object in view. He did,
in fact, think that this would be an excellent crown to set upon his virtues, if he should
leave behind him peace restored to a church. Thus, then, having set out with that very
numerous and holy crowd of disciples who usually accompanied him, he perceives in a river
a number of water-fowl busy in capturing fishes, and notices that a voracious appetite was
urging them on to frequent seizures of their prey. "This," exclaimed he, "is a picture of
how the demons act: they lie in wait for the unwary and capture them before they know it:
they devour their victims when taken, and they can never be satisfied with what they have
devoured. Then Martin, with a miraculous power in his words, commands the birds to leave
the pool in which they were swimming, and to betake themselves to dry and desert regions;

6 using with respect to those birds that very same authority with which he had been
accustomed to put demons to flight. Accordingly, gathering themselves together, all those
birds formed a single body, and leaving the river, they made for the mountains and woods,
to no small wonder of many who perceived such power in Martin that he could even rule the
birds. Having then delayed some time in that village or church to which he had gone, and
peace having been restored among the clerics, when he was now meditating a return to his
monastery, he began suddenly to fail in bodily strength, and, assembling the brethren, he
told them that he was on the point of dissolution. Then indeed, sorrow and grieftook
possession of all, and there was but one voice of them lamenting, and saying: "Why, dear
father, will you leave us? Or to whom can you commit us in our desolation? Fierce wolves
will speedily attack thy flock, and who, when the shepherd has been smitten, will save us
from their bites? We know, indeed, that you desire to be with Christ; but thy reward above
is safe, and will not be diminished by being delayed; rather have pity upon us, whom you
are leaving desolate. Then Martin, affected by these lamentations, as he was always, in
truth, full of compassion, is said to have burst into tears;

7 and, turning to the Lord, he replied to those weeping round him only in the following
words, "0 Lord, if I am still necessary to thy people, I do not shrink from toil: thy will
be done. Thus hovering as he did between desire and love, he almost doubted which he
preferred; for he neither wished to leave us, nor to be longer separated from Christ.
However, he placed no weight upon his own wishes, nor reserved anything to his own will,
but committed himself wholly to the will and power of the Lord. Do you not think you hear
him speaking in the following few words which I repeat? "Terrible, indeed, Lord, is the
struggle of bodily warfare, and surely it is now enough that I have continued the fight
till now; but, if thou dost command me still to persevere in the same toil for the defense
of thy flock, I do not refuse, nor do I plead against such an appoint- ment my declining
years. Wholly given to thee, I will fulfill whatever duties thou dost assign me, and I
will serve under thy standard as long as thou shalt prescribe. Yea, although release is
sweet to an old man after lengthened toil, yet my mind is a conqueror over my years, and I
have no desire to yield to old age. But if now thou art merciful to my many years, good, O
Lord, is thy will to me; and thou thyself wilt guard over those for whose safety I fear.

8 O man, whom no language can describe, unconquered by toil, and unconquerable even by
death, who didst show no personal preference for either alternative, and who didst neither
fear to die nor refuse to live! Accordingly, though he was for some days under the
influence of a strong fever, he nevertheless did not abandon the work of God. Continuing
in supplications and watchings through whole nights, he compelled his worn-out limbs to do
service to his spirit as he lay on his glorious couch upon sackcloth and ashes. And when
his disciples begged of him that at least he should allow some common straw to be placed
beneath him, he replied: "It is not fitting that a Christian should die except among
ashes; and I have sinned if I leave you a different example. However, with his hands and
eyes steadfastly directed towards heaven, he never released his unconquerable spirit from
prayer. And on being asked by the presbyters who had then gathered round him, to relieve
his body a little by a change of side, he exclaimed: "Allow me, dear brother, to fix my
looks rather on heaven than on earth, so that my spirit which is just about to depart on
its own journey may be directed towards the Lord. Having spoken these words, he saw the
devil standing close at hand, and exclaimed: "Why do you stand here, thou bloody monster?
Thou shalt find nothing in me, thou deadly one: Abraham's bosom is about to receive me."

9 As he uttered these words, his spirit fled; and those who were there present have
testified to us that they saw his face as if it had been the face of an angel. His limbs
too appeared white as snow, so that people exclaimed, "Who would ever believe that man to
be clothed in sackcloth, or who would imagine that he was enveloped with ashes? For even
then he presented such an appearance, as if he had been manifested in the glory of the
future resurrection, and with the nature of a body which had been changed. But it is
hardly credible what a multitude of human beings assembled at the performance of his
funeral rites: the whole city poured forth to meet his body; all the inhabitants of the
district and villages, along with many also from the neighboring cities, attended. O how
great was the grief of all! how deep the lamentations in particular of the sorrowing
monks! They are said to have assembled on that day almost to the number of two thousand,-a
special glory of Martin,-through his example so numerous plants had sprung up for the
service of the Lord. Undoubtedly the shepherd was then driving his own flocks before him-
the pale crowds of that saintly multitude-bands strayed in cloaks, either old men whose
life-labor was finished, or young soldiers who had just taken the oath of allegiance to
Christ. Then, trio, there was the choir of virgins, abstaining out of modesty from
weeping;

10 and with what holy joy did they conceal the fact of their affliction! No doubt faith
would prevent the shedding of tears, yet affection forced out groans. For there was as
sacred an exultation over the glory to which he had attained, as there was a pious sorrow
on account of his death. One would have been inclined to pardon those who wept, as well as
to congratulate those who rejoiced, while each single person preferred that he himself
should grieve, but that another should rejoice. Thus then this multitude, singing hymns of
heaven, attended the body of the sainted man onwards to the place of sepulture. Let there
be compared with this spectacle, I will not say the worldly pomp of a funeral, but even of
a triumph; and what can be reckoned similar to the obsequies of Martin? Let your worldly
great men lead before their chariots captives with their hands bound behind their backs.
Those accompanied the body of Martin who, under his guidance, had overcome the world. Let
madness honor these earthly warriors with the united praises of nations. Martin is praised
with the divine psalms, Martin is honored in heavenly hymns. Those worldly men, after
their triumphs here are over, shall be thrust into cruel Tartarus, while Martin is
joyfully received into the bosom of Abraham. Martin, poor and insignificant on earth, has
a rich entrance granted him into heaven.

11 From that blessed region, as I trust, he looks upon me, as my guardian, while I am
writing these things,and upon you while you read them.


DIALOGUES
=========

DIALOGUES Sulpicius Severus

c. AD 363–425

Biographer of Martin of Tours and church historian.

CHAPTER I.

1 When I and a Gallic friend had assembled in one place, this Gaul being a man very dear
to me, both on account of his remembrance of Martin (for he had been one of his
disciples), and on account of his own merits, my friend Postumianus joined us. He had
just, on my account, returned from the East, to which, leaving his native country, he had
gone three years before. Having embraced this most affectionate friend, and kissed both
his knees and his feet, we were for a moment or two, as it were, astounded; and, shedding
mutual tears of joy, we walked about a good deal. But by and by we sat down on our
garments of sackcloth laid upon the ground. Then Postumianus, directing his looks towards
me is the first to speak, andsays,- 2 "When I was in the remote parts of Egypt, I felt a
desire to go on as far as the sea. I there met with a merchant vessel, which was ready to
set sail with the view of making for Narbonne. The same night you seemed in a dream to
stand beside me, and laying hold of me with your hand, to lead me away that I should go on
board that ship. Ere long, when the dawn dispersed the darkness, and when I rose up in the
place in which I had been resting, as I revolved my dream in my mind, I was suddenly
seized with such a longing after you, that without delay I went on board the ship. Landing
on the thirtieth day at Marseilles, I came on from that and arrived here on the tenth day-
so prosperous a voyage was granted to my dutiful desire of seeing you. Do thou only, for
whose sake I have sailed over so many seas, and have traversed such an extent of land,
yield yourself over to me to be embraced and enjoyed apart from all others."

3 "I truly," said I, "while you were still staying in Egypt, was ever holding fellowship
with you in my mind and thoughts, and affection for you had full possession of me as I
meditated upon you day and night. Surely then, you cannot imagine that I will now fail for
a single moment to gaze with delight upon you, as I hang upon your lips. I will listen to
you, I will converse with you, while no one at all is admitted to our retirement, which
this remote cell of mine furnishes to us. For, as I suppose, you will not take amiss the
presence of this friend of ours, the Gaul, who, as you perceive, rejoices with his whole
heart over this arrival of yours, even as I do myself." "Quiteright," said Postumianus,
"that Gaul will certainly be retained in our company; who, although I am but little
acquainted with him, yet for this very reason that he is greatly beloved by you, cannot
fail also to be dear to me. This must especially be the case, since he is of the school of
Martin; nor will I grudge, as you desire, to talk with you in connected discourse, since I
came hither for this very purpose, that I should, even at the risk of being tedious,
respond to the desire of my dear Sulpitius "and in so speaking he affectionately took hold
of me with both his hands.

CHAPTER II.

1 "Truly" said I, "you have clearly proved how much a sincere love can accomplish,
inasmuch as, for my sake, you have traveled over so many seas, and such an extent of land,
journeying, so to speak, from the rising of the sun in the East to where he sets in the
West. Come, then, because we are here in a retired spot by ourselves, and not being
otherwise occupied, feel it our duty to attend to your discourse, come, I pray thee,
relate to us the whole history of your wanderings. Tell us, if you please, how the faith
of Christ is flourishing in the East; what peace the saints enjoy; what are the customs of
the monks; and with what signs and miracles Christ is working in his servants. For
assuredly, because in this region of ours and amid the circumstances in which we are
placed, life itself has become a weariness to us, we shall gladly hear from you, if life
is permitted to Christians even in the desert."

2 In reply to these words, Postumianus declares, "I shall do as I see you desire. But I
beg you first to tell me, whether all those persons whom I left here as priests, continue
the same as I knew them before taking my departure." Then I exclaim, "Forbear, I beseech
thee, to make any enquiry on such points, which you either, I think, know as well as I do,
or if you are ignorant of them, it is better that you should hear nothing regarding them.
I cannot, however, help saying, that not only are those, of whom you enquire, no better
than they were when you knew them, but even that one man, who was formerly a great friend
of mine, and in whose affection I was wont to find some consolation from the persecutions
of the rest, has shown himself more unkind towards me than he ought to have been. However,
I shall not say anything harsher regarding him, both because I once esteemed him as a
friend, and loved him even when he was deemed my enemy. I shall only add that while I was
silently meditating on these things in my thoughts, this source of grief deeply afflicted
me, that I had almost lost the friendship of one who was both a wise and a religious man.
But let us turn away from these topics which are full of sorrow, and let us ratherlisten
to you, according to the promise which you gave some time ago."

3 " Let it be so," exclaimed Postumianus. Andon his saying this, we all kept silence,
while,moving his robe of sackcloth, on which he had sat down, a little nearer me, he thus
began.

CHAPTER III.

1 "Threeyears ago, Sulpitius, at which time, leaving this neighborhood, I bade thee
farewell, after setting sail from Narbonne, on the fifth day we entered a port of Africa:
so prosperous, by the will of God, had been the voyage. I hadin my mind a great desire to
go to Carthage, tovisit those localities connected with the saints, and, above all, to
worship at the tomb of themartyr Cyprian. On the fifth day we returned to the harbor, and
launched forth into the deep. Our destination was Alexandria; but as thesouth wind was
against us, we were almost drivenupon the Syrtis; the cautious sailors, however, guarding
against this, stopped the ship by casting anchor. The continent of Africa then lay before
our eyes ; and, landing on it in boats, when we perceived that the whole country round was
destitute of human cultivation, I penetrated farther inland, for the purpose of more
carefully exploring the locality. About three miles from the sea-coast, I beheld a small
hut in the midst of the sand, the roof of which, to use the expression of Sallust, was
like the keel of a ship.

2 It was close to the earth, and was floored with good strong boards, not because any very
heavy rains are there feared (for, in fact, such a thing as rain has there never even been
heard of), but because, such is the strength of the winds in that district, that, if at
any time only a little breath of air begins there to be felt, even when the weather is
pretty mild, a greater wreckage takes place in those lands than on any sea. No plants are
there, and no seeds ever spring up, since, in such shifting soil, the dry sand is swept
along with every motion of the winds. But where some promontories, back from the sea, act
as a check to the winds, the soil, being somewhat more firm, produces here and there some
prickly grass, and that furnishes fair pasturage for sheep. The inhabitants live on milk,
while those of them that are more skillful, or, so to speak, more wealthy, make use of
barley bread. That is the only kind of grain which flourishes there, for barley, by he
quickness of its growth in that sort of soil, generally escapes the destruction caused by
the fierce winds. So rapid is its growth that we are old it is ripe on the thirtieth day
after the sowing of the seed. But there is no reason why hen should settle there, except
that all are free from the payment of taxes.

3 The sea-coast of he Cyrenians is indeed the most remote, bordering upon that desert
which lies between Egypt and Africa, and through which Cato formerly, when fleeing from
Caesar, led an army.

CHAPTER IV.

1 I Therefore bent my steps toward the hut which I had beheld from a distance. There I
find an old man, in a garment made of skins, turning a mill with his hand. He saluted and
received us kindly. We explain to him that we had been forced to land on that coast, and
were prevented by the continued raging of the sea from being able at once to pursue our
voyage; that, having made our way on shore, we had desired, as is in keeping with ordinary
human nature, to become acquainted with the character of the locality, and the manners of
the inhabitants. We added that we were Christians, and that the principal object of our
enquiry was whether there were any Christians amid these solitudes. Then, indeed, he,
weeping for joy, throws himself at our feet; and, kissing us over and over again, invites
us to prayer, while, spreading on the ground the skins of sheep, he makes us sit down upon
them. He then serves up a breakfast truly luxurious, consisting of the half of a barley
cake. Now, we were four, while he himself constituted the fifth. He also brought in a
bundle of herbs, of which I forget the name but they were like mint, were rich in leaves,
and yielded a taste like honey. We were delighted with the exceedingly sweet taste of this
plant, and our hunger was fully satisfied."

2 Upon this I smiled, and said to my friend the Gaul, "What, Gaul, do you think of this?
Are you pleased with a bundle of herbs and half a barley cake as a breakfast for five
men?" Then he, being an exceedingly modest person, and blushing somewhat, while he takes
my joke in good part, says, "You act, Sulpitius, in a way like yourself, for you never
miss any opportunity which is offered you of joking us on the subject of our fondness for
eating. But it is unkind of you to try to force us Gauls to live after the fashion of
angels; and yet, through my own liking for eating, I could believe that even the angels
are in the habit of eating; for such is my appetite that I would be afraid even singly to
attack that half barley cake. However, let that man of Cyrene be satisfied with it, to
whom it is either a matter of necessity or nature always to feel hungry; or, again, let
those be content with it from whom, I suppose, their tossing at sea had taken away all
desire for food. We, on the other hand, are at a distance from the sea; and, as I have
often testified to you, we are, in one word, Gauls. But instead of wasting time over such
matters, let our friend here rather go on to complete his account of the Cyrenian."

CHAPTER V.

" Assuredly," continues Postumianus, "I shall take care in future not to mention the
abstinence of any one, in case the difficult example should quite offend our friends the
Gauls. I had intended, however, to give an account also of the dinner of that man of
Cyrene-for we were seven days with him-or some of the subsequent feasts; but these things
had better be passed over, lest the Gaul should think that he was jeered at. However, on
the following day, when some of the natives had come together to visit us, we discovered
that that host of ours was a Presbyter-a fact which he had concealed from us with the
greatest care. We then went with him to the church, which was about two miles distant, and
was concealed from our view by an intervening mountain. We found that it was constructed
of common and worthless trees, and was not much more imposing than the hut of our host, in
which one could not stand without stooping. On enquiring into the customs of the men of
the district, we found that they were not in the habit of either buying or selling
anything. They knew not the meaning of either fraud or theft. As to gold and silver, which
mankind generally deem the most desirable of all things, they neither possess them, nor do
they desire to possess them. For when I offered that Presbyter ten gold coins, he refused
them, declaring, with profound wisdom, that the church was not benefited but rather
injured by gold. We presented him, however, with some pieces of clothing.

CHAPTER VI.

1 "After he had kindly accepted our gifts, on the sailors calling us back to the sea, we
departed; and after a favorable passage, we arrived at Alexandria on the seventh day.
There we found a disgraceful strife raging between the bishops and monks, the cause or
occasion of which was that the priests were known when assembled together often to have
passed decrees in crowded synods to the effect that no one should read or possess the
books of Origen. He was, no doubt, regarded as a most able disputant on the sacred
Scriptures. But the bishops maintained that there were certain things in his books of an
unsound character; and his supporters, not being bold enough to defend these, rather took
the line of declaring that they had been inserted by the heretics. They affirmed,
therefore, that the other portions of his writings were not to be condemned on account of
those things which justly fell under censure, since the faith of readers could easily make
a distinction, so that they should not follow what had been forged, and yet should keep
hold of those points which were handled in accordance with the Catholic faith. They
remarked that there was nothing wonderful if, in modern and recent writings, heretical
guile had been at work; since it had not feared in certain places to attack even Gospel
truth.

2 The bishops, struggling against these positions to the utmost extent of their power,
insisted that what was quite correct in the writings of Origen should, along with the
author himself, and even his whole works, be condemned, because those books were more than
sufficient which the church had received. They also said that the reading was to be
avoided of such works as would do more harm to the unwise than they would benefit the
wise. For my part, on being led by curiosity to investigate some portions of these
writings, I found very many things which pleased me, but some that were to be blamed. I
think it is clear that the author himself really entertained these impious opinions,
though his defenders maintain that the passages have been forged. I truly Wonder that one
and the same man could have been so different from himself as that, in the portion which
is approved, he has no equal since the times of the Apostles, while in that which is
justly condemned, no one can be shown to have erred more egregiously.

CHAPTER VII.

1 For while many things in his books which were extracted from them by the bishops were
read to show that they were written in opposition to the Catholic faith, that passage
especially excited bad feeling against him, in which we read in his published works that
the Lord Jesus, ashe had come in the flesh for the redemption of mankind, and suffering
upon the cross for thesalvation of man, had tasted death to procure eternal life for the
human race, so he was, by the same course of suffering, even to render the devil a
partaker of redemption. He maintained this on the ground that such a thing would be in
harmony with his goodness and beneficence, inasmuch as he who had restored fallen and
mined man, would thus also set free an angel who had previously fallen. When these and
other things of a like nature were brought forward by the bishops, a tumult arose owing to
the zeal of the different parties; and when this could not be quelled by the authority of
the priests, the governor of the city was called upon to regulate the discipline of the
church by a perverse precedent; and through the terror which he inspired, the brethren
were dispersed, while the monks took to flight in different directions; so that, on the
decrees being published, they were not permitted to find lasting acceptance in any place.

2 This fact influenced me greatly, that Hieronymus, a man truly Catholic and most skillful
in the holy law, was thought at first to have been a follower of Origen, yet now, above
most others, went the length of condemning the whole of his writings. Assuredly, I am not
inclined to judge rashly in regard to any one; but even the most learned men were said to
hold different opinions in this controversy. However, whether that opinion of Origen was
simply an error, as I think, or whether it was a heresy, as is generally supposed, it not
only could not be suppressed by multitudes of censures on the part of the priests, but it
never could have spread itself so far and wide, had it not gathered strength from their
contentions. Accordingly, when I came to Alexandria, I found that city in a ferment from
disturbances connected with the matter in question. The Bishop, indeed, of that place
received me very kindly, and in a better spirit than I expected, and even endeavored to
retain me with him. But I was not at all inclined to settle there, where a recent outbreak
of ill-will had resulted in a destruction of the brethren. For, although perhaps it may
seem that they ought to have obeyed the bishops, yet such a multitude of persons, all
living in an open confession of Christ, ought not for that reason to have been persecuted,
especially by bishops.

CHAPTER VIII.

1 Accordingly, setting out from that place, I made for the town of Bethlehem, which is six
miles distant from Jerusalem, but requires sixteen stoppages on the part of one journeying
from Alexandria. The presbyter Jerome rules the church of this place; for it is a parish
of the bishop who has possession of Jerusalem. Having already in my former journey become
acquainted with Hieronymus, he had easily brought it about that I with good reason deemed
no one more worthy of my regard and love. For, besides the merit due to him on account of
his Faith, and the possession of many virtues, he is a man learned not only in Latin and
Greek, but also Hebrew, to such a degree that no one dare venture to compare himself with
him in all knowledge. I shall indeed be surprised if he is not well known to you also
through means of the works which he has written, since he is, in fact, read the whole
world over."

2 "Well," says the Gaul at this point, "he is, in truth, but too well known to us. For,
some five years ago, I read a certain book of his, in which the whole tribe of our monks
is most vehemently assaulted and reviled by him. For this reason, our Belgian friend is
accustomed to be very angry, because he has said that we are in the habit of cramming
ourselveseven to repletion. But I, for my part, pardon the eminent man; and am of opinion
that he had made the remark rather about Eastern than Western monks. For the love of
eating is gluttony in the case of the Greeks, whereas among the Gauls it is owing to the
nature they possess." Then exclaimed I, "You defend your nation, my Gallic friend, by
means of rhetoric; but I beg to ask whether that book condemns only this vice in the case
of the monks?"

3 "No indeed," replies he; "the writer passed nothing over, which he did not blame,
scourge, and expose: in particular, he inveighed against avarice and no less against
arrogance. He discoursed much respecting pride, and not a little about superstition; and I
will freely own that he seemed to me to draw a true picture of the vices of multitudes."

CHAPTER IX.

1 "Butas to familiarities which take place between virgins and monks, or even clerics, how
true and how courageous were his words! And, on account of these, he is said not to stand
high in favor with certain people whom I am unwilling to name. For, as our Belgian friend
is angry that we were accused of too great fondness for eating, so those people, again,
are said to express their rage when they find it written in that little work,-`The virgin
despises her true unmarried brother, and seeks a stranger.'" Upon this I exclaim, "You are
going too far, my Gallic friend: take heed lest some one who perhaps owns to these things,
hear what you are saying, and begin to hold you, along with Hieronymus, in no great
affection. For, since you are a learned man, not unreasonably will I admonish you in the
verse of that comic poet who says,-`Submission procures friends, while truth gives rise to
hatred.' Let rather, Postumianus, your discourse to us about the East, so well begun, now
be resumed."

2 "Well," says he, "as I had commenced to relate, I stayed with Hieronymus six months, who
carried on an unceasing warfare against the wicked, and a perpetual struggle in opposition
to the deadly hatred of ungodly men. The heretics hate him, because he never desists from
attacking them; the clerics hate him, because he assails their life and crimes. But beyond
doubt, all the good admire and love him; for those people are out of their senses, who
suppose that he is a heretic. Let me tell the truthon this point, which is that the
knowledge ofthe man is Catholic, and that his doctrine issound. He is always occupied in
reading, always at his books with his whole heart: he takesno rest day or night; he is
perpetually either reading or writing something. In fact, had Inot been resolved in mind,
and had promised to God first to visit the desert previously referred to, I should have
grudged to depart even for the shortest time from so great a man. Handing over, then, and
entrusting to him all my possessions and my whole family, which having followed me against
my own inclination, kept me in a state of embarrassment, and thus being in a son of way
delivered from a heavy burden, and restored to freedom of action, I returned to
Alexandria, and having visited the brethren there I set out from the place for upper
Thebais, that is for the farthest off confines of Egypt. For a great multitude of monks
were said to inhabit the widely extending solitudes of that wilderness. But here it would
be tedious, were I to Seek to narrate all the things which I witnessed: I shall only touch
lightly on a few points.

CHAPTER X.

1 " Not far from the desert, and dose to the Nile, there are numerous monasteries. For the
most part, the monks there dwell together in companies of a hundred; and their highest
rule is to live under the orders of their Abbot, to do nothing by their own inclination,
but to depend in all things on his will and authority. If it so happens that any of them
form in their minds a lofty ideal of virtue, so as to wish to betake themselves to the
desert to live a solitary life, they do not venture to act on this desire except with the
permission of the Abbot. In fact, this is the first of virtues in their estimation,-to
live in obedience to the will of another. To those who betake themselves to the desert,
bread or some other kind of food is furnished by the command of that Abbot. Now, it so
happened that, in those days during which I had come thither, the Abbot had sent bread to
a certain person who had withdrawn to the desert, and had erected a tent for himself not
more than six miles from the monastery. This bread was sent by the hands of two boys, the
elder of whom was fifteen, and the younger twelve years of age. As these boys were
returning home, an asp of remarkable size encountered them, but they were not the least
afraid on meeting it;

2 and moving up to their very feet, as if charmed by some melody, it laid down its dark-
green neck before them. The younger of the boys laid hold of it with his hand, and,
wrapping it in his dress, went on his way with it. Then, entering the monastery with the
air of a conqueror, and meeting with the brethren, while alI looked on, he opened out his
dress, and set down the imprisoned beast, not without some appearance of boastfulness. But
while the rest of the spectators extolled the faith and virtue of the chil- dren, the
Abbot, with deeper insight, and to prevent them at such a tender age from being puffed up
with pride, subjected both to punishment. This he did after blaming them much for having
publicly revealed what the Lord had wrought through their instrumentality. He declared
that that was not to be attributed to their faith, but to the Divine power; and added that
they should rather learn to serve God in humility, and not to glory in signs and wonders;
for that a sense of their own weakness was better than any vainglorious exhibition of
power.

CHAPTER XI.

1 "When the monk whom I have mentioned heard of this,-when he learned both that the
children had encountered danger through meeting the snake, and that moreover, having got
the better of the serpent, they had received a sound beating,-he implored the Abbot that
henceforth no bread or food of any kind should be sent to him. And now the eighth day had
passed since that man of Christ had exposed himself to the danger of perishing from
hunger; his limbs were growing dry with fasting, but his mind fixed upon heaven could not
fail; his body was wearing away with abstinence, but his faith remained firm. In the
meantime, the Abbot was admonished by the Spirit to visit that disciple. Under the
influence of a pious solicitude, he was eager to learn by what means of preserving life
that faithful man was supported, since he had declined any human aid in ministering to his
necessities. Accordingly, he sets out in person to satisfy himself on the subject. When
the recluse saw from a distance the old man coming to him, he ran to meet him: he thanks
him for the visit, and conducts him to his cell. As they enter the cell together, they
behold a basket of palm branches, full of hot bread, hanging fixed at the door-post. And
first the smell of the hot bread is perceived; but on touching it, it appears as if just a
little before it had been taken from the oven.

2 At the same time, they do not recognize the bread as being of the shape common in Egypt.
Both are filled with amazement, and acknowledge the gift as being from heaven. On the one
side, the recluse declared that this event was due to the arrival of the Abbot;while, on
the other side, the Abbot ascribed itrather to the faith and virtue of the recluse;
butboth broke the heaven-sent bread with exceeding joy. And when, on his return to the
monastery, the old man reported to the brethrenwhat had occurred, such enthusiasm seized
theminds of all of them, that they vied with each other in their haste to betake
themselves to the desert, and its sacred seclusion; while they declared themselves
miserable in having made their abode only too long amid a multitude, where human
fellowship had to be carried on and endured.

CHAPTER XII.

1 "In this monastery I saw two old men who were said to have already lived there for forty
years, and in fact never to have departed from it. I do not think that I should pass by
all mention of these men, since, indeed, I heard the following statement made regarding
their virtues on the testimony of the Abbot himself, and all the brethren, that in the
case of one of them, the sun never beheld him feasting, and in the case of the other, the
sun never saw him angry." Upon this, the Gaul looking at me exclaims: "Would that a friend
of yours-I do not wish to mention his name-were now present; I should greatly like him to
hear of that example, since we have had too much experience of his bitter anger in the
persons of a great many people. Nevertheless, as I hear, he has lately forgiven his
enemies; and, in these circumstances, were he to hear of the conduct of that man, he would
be more and more strengthened in his forgiving course by the example thus set before him,
and would feel that it is an admirable virtue not to fall under the influence of anger. I
will not indeed deny that he had just reasons for his wrath; but where the battle is hard,
the crown of victory is all the more glorious. For this reason, I think, if you will allow
me to say so, that a certain man was justly to be praised, because when an ungrateful
freedman abandoned him he rather pitied than inveighed against the fugitive. And, indeed,
he was not even angry with the man by whom he seems to have been carried off."

2 Upon this I remarked: "Unless Postumianus had given us that example of overcoming anger,
I would have been very angry on account of the departure of the fugitive; but since it is
not lawful to be angry, all remembrance of such things, as it annoys us, ought to be
blotted from our minds. Let us rather, Postumianus, listen to what you have got to say."
"I will do," says he, "Sulpitius, what you request, as I see you are all so desirous of
hearing me. But remember that I do not address my speech to you without hope of a larger
recompense; I shall gladly perform what you require, provided that, when ere long my turn
comes, you do not refuse what I ask." "We indeed," said I, "have nothing by means of which
we can return the obligation we shall lie under to you even without a larger return.
However, command us as to anything you have thought about, provided you satisfy our
desires, as you have already begun to do, for your speech conveys to us true delight."

3 "I will stint nothing," said Postumianus, "of your desires; and inasmuch as you have
recognized the virtue of one recluse, I shall go on to relate to you some few things about
more such persons.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 "Wellthen, when I entered upon the nearest parts of the desert, about twelve miles from
the Nile, having as my guide one of the brethren who was well acquainted with the
localities, we arrived at the residence of a certain old monk who dwelt at the foot of a
mountain. In that place there was a well, which is a very rare thing in these regions. The
monk had one ox, the whole labor of which consisted in drawing water by moving a machine
worked with a wheel. This was the only way of getting at the water, for the well was said
to be a thousand or more feet deep. There was also a garden there full of a variety of
vegetables. This, too, was contrary to what might have been expected in the desert where,
all things being dry and burnt up by the fierce rays of the sun produce not even the
slenderest root of any plant. But the labor which in common with his ox, the monk
performed, as well as his own special industry, produced such a happy state of things to
the holy man; for the frequent irrigation in which he engaged imparted such a fertility to
the sand that we saw the vegetables in his garden flourishing and coming to maturity in a
wonderful manner. On these, then, the ox lived as well as its master; and from the
abundance thus supplied, the holy man provided us also with a dinner.

2 There I saw what ye Gauls, perchance, may not believe-a pot boiling without fire with
the vegetables which were being got ready for our dinner: such is the power of the sun in
that place that it is sufficient for any cooks, even for preparing the dainties of the
Gauls. Then after dinner, when the evening was coming on, our host invites us to a palm-
tree, the fruit of which he was accustomed to use, and which was at a distance of about
two miles. For that is the only kind of tree found in the desert, and even these are rare,
though they do occur. I am not sure whether this is owing to the wise foresight of former
ages, or whether the soil naturally produces them. It may indeed be that God, knowing
beforehand that the desert was one day to be inhabited by the saints, prepared these
things for his servants. For those who settle within these solitudes live for the most
part on the fruit of such trees, since no other kinds of plants thrive in these quarters.
Well, when we came up to that tree to which the kindness of our host conducted us, we
there met with a lion; and on seeing it, both my guide and myself began to tremble; but
the holy man went up to it without delay, while we, though in great terror, followed him.

3 As if commanded by God, the beast modestly withdrew and stood gazing at us, while our
friend, the monk, plucked some fruit hanging within easy reach on the lower branches. And,
on his holding out his hand filled with dates, the monster ran up to him and received them
as readily as any domestic animal could have done; and having eaten them, it departed. We,
beholding these things, and being still under the influence of fear, could not but
perceive how great was the power of faith in his case, and how weak it was in ourselves.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 "Wefound another equally remarkable man living in a small hut, capable only of
containing a single person. Concerning him we were told that a she-wolf was accustomed to
stand near him at dinner; and that the beast could by no means be easily deceived so as to
fail to be with him at the regular hour when he took refreshment. It was also said that
the wolf waited at the door until he offered her the bread which remained over his own
humble dinner; that she was accustomed to lick his hand, and then, her duty being, as it
were, fulfilled, and her respects paid to him, she took her departure. But it so happened
that that holy man, while he escorted a brother who had paid him a visit, on his way home,
was a pretty long time away, and only returned under night. In the meanwhile, the beast
made its appearance at the usual dinner time. Having entered the vacant cell and perceived
that its benefactor was absent, it began to search round the hut with some curiosity to
discover, if possible, the inhabitant. Now it so happened that a basket of palm-twigs was
hanging close at hand with five loaves of bread in it. Taking one of these, the beast
devoured it, and then, having committed this evil deed, went its way. The recluse on his
return found the basket in a state of disorder, and the number of loaves less than it
should have been.

2 He is aware of the loss of his household goods, and observes near the threshold some
fragments of the loaf which had been stolen. Considering all this, he had little doubt as
to the author of the theft. Accordingly, when on the following days the beast did not, in
its usual way, make its appearance (undoubtedly hesitating from a consciousness of its
audacious deed to come to him on whom it had inflicted injury), the recluse was deeply
grieved at being deprived of the happiness he had enjoyed in its society. At last, being
brought back through his prayers, it appeared to him as usual at dinner time, after the
lapse of seven days. But to make clear to every one the shame it felt, through regret for
what had been done, not daring to draw very near, and with its eyes, from profound self-
abasement, cast upon the earth, it seemed, as was plain to the intelligence of every one,
to beg in a sort of way, for pardon. The recluse, pitying its confusion, bade it come
close to him, and then, with a kindly hand, stroked its head; while, by giving it two
loaves instead of the usual one, he restored the guilty creature to its former position;
and, laying aside its misery on thus having obtained forgiveness, it betook itself anew to
its former habits. Behold, I beg of you, even in this case, the power of Christ, to whom
all is wise that is irrational, and to whom all is mild that is by nature savage.

3 A wolf discharges duty; a wolf acknowledges the crime of theft; a wolf is confounded
with a sense of shame: when called for, it presents itself; it offers its head to be
stroked; and it has a perception of the pardon granted to it, just as if it had a feeling
of shame on account of its misconduct,-this is thy power, O Christ-these, O Christ, are
thy marvelous works. For in truth, whatever things thy servants do in thy name are thy
doings; and in this only we find cause for deepest grief that, while wild beasts
acknowledge thy majesty, intelligent beings fail to do thee reverence.

CHAPTER XV.

1 "But lest this should perchance seem incredible to any one, I shall mention still
greater things. I call Christ to witness that I invent nothing, nor will I relate things
published by uncertain authors, but will set forth facts which have been vouched for to me
by trustworthymen. 2 "Numbers of those persons live in the desert without any roofs over
their heads, whom people call anchorites. They subsist on the roots of plants; they settle
nowhere in any fixed place, lest they should frequently have men visiting them; wherever
night compels them they choose their abode. Well, two monks from Nitria directed their
steps towards a certain man living in this style, and under these conditions. They did so,
although they were from a very different quarter, because they had heard of his virtues,
and because he had formerly been their dear and intimate friend, while a member of the
same monastery. They sought after him long and much; and at length, in the seventh month,
they found him staying in that far-distant wilderness which borders upon Memphis. He was
said already to have dwelt in these solitudes for twelve years; but although he shunned
intercourse with all men, yet he did not shrink from meeting these friends; on the
contrary, he yielded himself to their affection for a period of three days. On the fourth
day, when he had gone some distance escorting them in their return journey, they beheld a
lioness of remarkable size coming towards them. The animal, although meeting with three
persons, showed no uncertainty as to the one she made for, but threw herself down at the
feet of the anchorite: and, lying there with a kind of weeping and lamentation, she
manifested mingled feelings of sorrow and supplication. The sight affected all, and
especially him who perceived that he was sought for:

3 he therefore sets out, and the others follow him. For the beast stopping from time to
time, and, from time to time looking back, clearly wished it to be understood that the
anchorite should follow wherever she led. What need is there of many words? We arrived at
the den of the animal, where she, the unfortunate mother, was nourishing five whelps
already grown up, which, as they had come forth with closed eyes from the womb of their
dam, so they had continued in persistent blindness. Bringing them out, one by one, from
the hollow of the rock, shell aid them down at the feet ofthe anchorite. Then at length
the holy man perceived what the creature desired; and having called upon the name of God,
he touched with his hand the closed eyes of the whelps; and immediately their blindness
ceased, while light, so long denied them, streamed upon the open eyes of the animals.
Thus, those brethren, having visited the anchorite whom they were desirous of seeing,
returned with a very precious reward for their labor, inasmuch as, having been permitted
to be eye-witnesses of such power, they had beheld the faith of the saint, and the glory
of Christ, to which they will in future bear testimony. But I have still more marvels to
tell: the lioness, after five days, returned to the man who had done her so great a
kindness, and brought him, as a gift, the skin of an un- common animal. Frequently clad in
this, as if it were a cloak.

4 that holy man did not disdain to receive that gift through the instrumentality of the
beast; while, all the time, he rather regarded Another as being the giver.

CHAPTER XVI.

1 "There was also an illustrious name of another anchorite in those regions, a man who
dwelt in that part of the desert which is about Syene. This man, when first he betook
himself to the wilderness, intended to live on the roots of plants which the sand here and
there produces, of a very sweet and delicious flavor; but being ignorant of the nature of
the herbs, he often gathered those which were of a deadly character. And, indeed, it was
not easy to discriminate between the kind of the roots by the mere taste, since all were
equally sweet, but many of them, of a less known nature, contained within them a deadly
poison. When, therefore, the poison within tormented him on eating these, and all his
vitals were tortured with terrific pains, while frequent vomitings, attended by
excruciating agonies, were shattering the very citadel of life, his stomach being
completely exhausted, he was in utter terror of all that had to be eaten for sustaining
existence. Having thus fasted for seven days, he was almost at the point of death when a
wild animal called an Ibex came up to him. To this creature standing by him, he offered a
bundle of plants which he had collected on the previous day, yet had not ventured to
touch; but the beast, casting aside with its mouth those which were poisonous, picked out
such as it knew to be harmless.

2 In this way, that holy man, taught by its conduct what he ought to eat, and what to
reject, both escaped the danger of dying of hunger and of being poisoned by the plants.
But it would be tedious to relate all the facts which we have either had personal
knowledge of, or have heard from others, respecting those who inhabit the desert. I spent
a whole year, and nearly seven months more, of set purpose, within these solitudes, being,
however, rather an admirer of the virtues of others, than myself making any attempt to
manifest the extraordinary endurance which they displayed. For the greater part of the
time I lived with the old man whom I have mentioned, who possessed the well and the ox.

CHAPTER XVII.

1 " I visited two monasteries of St. Anthony, which are at the present day occupied by his
disciples. I also went to that place in which the most blessed Paul, the first of the
eremites, had his abode. I saw the Red Sea and the ridges of Mount Sinai, the top of which
almost touches heaven, and cannot, by any human effort, be reached. An anchorite was said
to live somewhere within its recesses: and I sought long and much to see him, but was
unable to do so. He had for nearly fifty years been removed from all human fellowship, and
used no clothes, but was covered with bristles growing on his own body, while, by Divine
gift, he knew not of his own nakedness. As often as any pious men desired to visit him,
making hastily for the pathless wilderness, he shunned all meeting with his kind. To one
man only, about five years before my visit, he was said to have granted an interview; and
I believe that man obtained the favor through the power of his faith. Amid much talk which
the two had together, the recluse is said to have replied to the question why he shunned
so assiduously all human beings, that the man who was frequently visited by mortals like
himself, could not often be visited by angels. From this, not without reason, the report
had spread, and was accepted by multitudes, that that holy man enjoyed angelic fellowship.

2 Be this as it may, I, for my part, departed from Mount Sinai, and returned to the river
Nile, the banks of which, on both sides, I beheld dotted over with numerous monasteries. I
saw that, for the most part, as I have already said, the monks resided together in
companies of a hundred; but it was well known that so many as two or three thousand
sometimes had their abode in the same villages. Nor indeed would one have any reason to
think that the virtue of the monks there dwelling together in great numbers, was less than
that of those was known to be, who kept themselves apart from human fellowship. The chief
and foremost virtue in these places, as I have already said, is obedience. In fact, any
one applying for admission is not received by the Abbot of the monastery on any other
condition than that he be first tried and proved; it being understood that he will never
afterwards decline to submit to any injunction of the Abbot, however arduous and
difficult, and though it may seem something unworthy to be endured.

CHAPTER XVIII.

1 "I will relate two wonderful examples of almost incredible obedience, and two only,
although many present themselves to my recollection; but if, in any case, a few instances
do not suffice to rouse readers to an imitation of the like virtues, many would be of no
advantage. Well then, when a certain man having laid aside all worldly business, and
having entered a monastery of very strict discipline, begged that he might be accepted as
a member, the Abbot began to place many considerations before him,-that the toils of that
order were severe; that his own requirements were heavy, and such as no one's endurance
could easily comply with; that he should rather enquire after another monastery where life
was carried on under easier conditions; and that he should not try to attempt that which
he was unable to accomplish. But he was in no degree moved by these terrors; on the
contrary, he all the more promised obedience, saying that if the Abbot should order him to
walk into the fire, he would not refuse to enter it. The Master then, having accepted that
profession of his, did not delay putting it to the test. It so happened that an iron
vessel was close at hand, very hot, as it was being got ready by a powerful fire for
cooking some loaves of bread: the flames were bursting forth from the oven broken open,
and fire raged without restraint within the hollows of that furnace.

2 The Master, at this stage of affairs, ordered the stranger to enter it, nor did he
hesitate to obey the command. Without a moment's delay he entered into the midst of the
flames, which, conquered at once by so bold a display of faith, subsided at his approach,
as happened of old to the well-known Hebrew children. Nature was overcome, and the fire
gave way; so that he, of whom it was thought that he would be burned to death, had reason
to marvel at himself, besprinkled, as it were, with a cooling dew. But what wonder is it,
O Christ, that that fire did not touch thy youthful soldier? The result was that, neither
did the Abbot regret having issued such harsh commands, nor did the disciple repent having
obeyed the orders received. He, indeed, on the very day on which he came, being tried in
his weakness, was found perfect; deservedly happy, deservedly glorious, having been tested
in obedience, he was glorified through suffering.

CHAPTER XIX.

"Inthe same monastery, the fact which I am about to narrate was said to have occurred
within recent memory. A certain man had come to the same Abbot in like manner with the
former, in order to obtain admission. When the first law of obedience was placed before
him, and he promised an unfailing patience for the endurance of all things however
extreme, it so happened that the Abbot was holding in hishand a twig of storax already
withered. This the Abbot fixed in the ground, and imposed this work upon the visitor, that
he should continue to water the twig, until (what was against every natural result) that
dry piece of wood should grow green in the sandy soil. Well, the stranger, being placed
under the authority of unbending law, conveyed water every day on his own shoulders-water
which had to be taken from the river Nile, at almost two miles' distance. And now, after a
year had run its course, the labor of that workman had not yet ceased, but there could be
no hope of the good success of his undertaking. However, the grace of obedience continued
to be shown in his labor. The following year also mocked the vain labor of the (by this
time) weakened brother. At length, as the third annual circle was gliding by, while the
workman ceased not, night or day, his labor in watering, the twig began to show signs of
life. I have myself seen a small tree sprung from that little rod, which, standing at the
present day with green branches in the court of the monastery, as if for a witness of what
has been stated, shows what a reward obedience received, and what a power faith can exert.
But the day would fail me before I could fully enumerate the many different miracles which
have become known to me in connection with the virtues of the saints.

CHAPTER XX.

1 "Iwill, however, still further give you an account of two extraordinary marvels. The one
of these will be a notable warning against the inflation of wretched vanity, and the other
will serve as no mean guard against the display of a spurious righteousness. 2 "A certain
saint, then, endowed with almost incredible power in casting out demons from the bodies of
those possessed by them, was, day by day, performing unheard-of miracles. For, not only
when present, and not merely by his word, but while absent also, he, from time to time,
cured possessed bodies, by some threads taken from his garment, or by letters which he
sent. He, therefore, was to a wonderful degree visited by people who came to him from
every part of the world. I say nothing about those of humbler rank; but prefects,
courtiers, and judges of various ranks often lay at his doors. Most holy bishops also,
laying aside their priestly dignity, and humbly imploring him to touch and bless them,
believed with good reason that they were sanctified, and illumined with a divine gift, as
often as they touched his hand and garment. He was reported to abstain always and utterly
from every kind of drink, and for food (I will whisper this, Sulpitius, into your ear lest
our friend the Gaul hear it), to subsist upon only six dried figs. But in the meantime,
just as honor accrued to the holy man from his excellence, so vanity began to steal upon
himfrom the honor which was paid him. When first he perceived that this evil was growing
upon him, he struggled long and earnestly to shake it off, but it could not be thoroughly
got rid of by all his efforts, since he still had a secret consciousness of being under
the influence of vanity.

3 Everywhere did the demons acknowledge his name, while he was not able to exclude from
his presence the number of people who flocked to him. The hidden poison was, in the
meantime, working in his breast, and he, at whose beck demons were expelled from the
bodies of others, was quite unable to cleanse himself from the hidden thoughts of vanity.
Betaking himself, therefore, with fervent supplication to God, he is said to have prayed
that, power being given to the devil over him for five months, he might become like to
those whom he himself had cured. Why should I delay with many words? That most powerful
man,-he, renowned for his miracles and virtues through all the East, he, to whose
threshold multitudes had gathered, and at whose door the highest dignitaries of that age
had prostrated themselves-laid hold of by a demon, was kept fast in chains. It was only
after having suffered all those things which the possessed are wont to endure, that at
length in the fifth month he was delivered, not only from the demon, but (what was to him
more useful and desirable) from the vanity which had dwelt within him.

CHAPTER XXI.

1 "But to me reflecting on these things, there occurs the thought of our own unhappiness
and our own infirmity. For who is there of us, whom if one despicable creature of a man
has humbly saluted, or one woman has praised with foolish and flattering words, is not at
once elated with pride and puffed up with vanity? This will bring it about that even
though one does not possess a consciousness of sanctity, yet, because through the
flattery, or, it may be, the mistake of fools, he is said to be a holy man, he will, in
fact, deem himself most holy! And then, if frequent gifts are sent to him, he will
maintain that he is so honored by the munificence of God, inasmuch as all necessary things
are bestowed upon him when sleeping and at rest. But further, if some signs of any kind of
power fall to him even in a low degree, he will think himself no less than an angel And
even if he is not marked out from others either by acts or excellence, but is simply made
a cleric, he instantly enlarges the fringes of his dress, delights in salutations, is
puffed up by people visiting him, and himself gads about everywhere. Nay, the man who had
been previously accustomed to travel on foot, or at most to ride on the back of an ass,
must needs now ride proudly on frothing steeds; formerly content to dwell in a small and
humble cell, he now builds a lofty fretted ceiling;

2 he constructs many rooms ; he cuts and carves doors; be paints wardrobes; he rejects the
coarser kind of clothing, and demands soft garments; and he gives such orders as the
following to dear widows and friendly virgins, that the one class weave for him an
embroidered cloak, and the other a flowing robe. But let us leave all these things to be
described more pungently by that blessed man Hieronymus; and let us return to the object
more immediately in view." 3 "Well," says our Gallic friend upon this, "I know not indeed
what you have left to be said by Hieronymus; you have within such brief compass
comprehended all our practices, that I think these few words of yours, if they are taken
in good part, and patiently considered, will greatly benefit those in question, so that
they will not require in future to be kept in order by the books of Hieronymus. But do
thou rather go on with what you had begun, and bring forward an example, as you said you
would do, against spurious righteousness; for to tell you the truth, we are subject to no
more destructive evil than this within the wide boundaries of Gaul." "I will do so,"
replied Postumianus, "nor will I any longer keep you in a state of expectation.

CHAPTER XXII.

1 "A certain young man from Asia, exceedingly wealthy, of distinguished family, and having
a wife and little son, happening to have been a tribune in Egypt, and in frequent
campaigns against the Blembi to have touched on some parts of the desert, and having also
seen several tents of the saints, heard the word of salvation from the blessed John. And
he did not then delay to show his contempt for an unprofitable military life with its vain
honor. Bravely entering into the wilderness, he in a short time became distinguished as
being perfect in every kind of virtue. Capable of lengthened fasting, conspicuous for
humility, and steadfast in faith, he had easily obtained a reputation in the pur- suit of
virtue equal to that of the monks of old.But by and by, the thought (proceeding from the
devil) entered his mind that it would be more proper for him to return to his native land
and be the means of saving his only son and his family along with his wife; which surely
would be more acceptable to God than if he, content with only rescuing himself from the
world, should, not without impiety, neglect the salvation of his friends. Overcome by the
plausible appearance of that kind of spurious righteousness, the recluse, after a period
of nearly four years, forsook his cell and the end to which he had devoted his life.

2 But on arriving at the nearest monastery, which was inhabited by many brethren, he made
known to them, in reply to their questionings, the reason of his departure and the object
he had in view. All of them, and especially the Abbot of that place, sought to keep him
back; but the intention he had unfortunately formed could not be rooted out of his mind.
Accordingly with an unhappy obstinacy he went forth, and, to the grief of all, departed
from the brethren. But scarcely had he vanished from their sight, when he was taken
possession of by a demon, and vomiting bloody from from his mouth, he began to lacerate
himself with his own teeth. Then, having been carried back to the same monastery on the
shoulders of the brethren, when the unclean spirit could not be restrained within its
walls, he was, from dire necessity, loaded with iron fetters, being bound both in hands
and feet-a punishment not undeserved by a fugitive, inasmuch as chains now restrained him
whom faith had not restrained. At length, after two years, having been set free from the
unclean spirit by the prayers of the saints, he immediately returned to the desert from
which he had departed. In this way he was both himself corrected and was rendered a
warning to others, that the shadow of a spurious righteousness might neither delude any
one, nor a shifting fickleness of character induce any one, with unprofitable inconstancy,
to forsake the course on which he has once entered.

3 And now let it suffice for you to learn these things respecting the various operations
of the Lord which he has carried on in the persons of his servants; with the view either
of stimulating others to a like kind of conduct, or of deterring them from particular
actions. But since I have by this time fully satisfied your ears-have, in fact, been more
lengthy than I ought to have been-do you now (upon this he addressed himself to me)-pay me
the recompense you owe, by letting us hear you, after your usual fashion, discoursing
about your friend Martin, for my longings after this have already for a long time been
strongly excited."

CHAPTER XXIII.

1 "What," replied I, "is there not enough about my friend Martin in that book of mine
which you know that I published respecting his life and virtues?" 2 "I own it," said
Postumianus, "and that book of yours is never far from my right hand. For if you recognize
it, look here-(and so saying he displayed the book which was concealed in his dress)-here
it is. This book," added he, "is my companion both by land and sea: it has been my friend
and comforter in all my wanderings. But I will relate to you to what places that book has
penetrated, and how there is almost no spot upon earth in which the subject of so happy a
history is not possessed as a well-known narrative. Paulinus, a man who has the strongest
regard for you, was the first to bring it to the city of Rome; and then, as it was
greedily laid hold of by the whole city, I saw the booksellers rejoicing over it, inasmuch
as nothing was a source of greater gain to them, for nothing commanded a readier sale, or
fetched a higher price. This same book, having got a long way before me in the course of
my traveling, was already generally read through all Carthage, when I came into Africa.
Only that presbyter of Cyrene whom I mentioned did not possess it; but he wrote down its
contents from my description. And why should I speak about Alexandria? for there it is
almost better known to all than it is to yourself. It has passed through Egypt, Nitria,
the Thebaid, and the whole of the regions of Memphis.

3 I found it being read by a certain old man in the desert; and, after I told him that I
was your intimate friend, this commission was given me both by him and many other
brethren, that, if I should ever again visit this country, and find you well, I should
constrain you to supply those particulars which you stated in your book you had passed
over respecting the virtues of the sainted man. Come then, as I do not desire you to
repeat to me those things which are already sufficiently known from what you have written,
let those other points, at my request and that of many others, be fully set forth, which
at the time of your writing you passed over, to prevent, as I believe, any feeling of
weariness on the part of your readers."

CHAPTER XXIV.

1 "Indeed, Postumianus," replied I, "while I was listening attentively, all this time, to
you talking about the excellences of the saints, in my secret thoughts I had my mind
turned to my friend Martin, observing on the best of grounds that all those things which
different individuals had done separately, were easily and entirely accomplished by that
one man alone. For, although you certainly related lofty deeds, I really heard nothing
from your lips (may I say it, without offence to these holy men), in which Martin was
inferior to any one of them. And while I hold that the excellence of no one of these is
ever to be compared with the merits of that man, still this point ought to be attended to,
that it is unfair he should be compared, on the same terms, with the recluses of the
desert, or even with the anchorites. For they, at freedom from every hindrance, with
heaven only and the angels as witnesses, were clearly instructed to perform admirable
deeds; he, on the other hand, in the midst of crowds and intercourse with human beings-
among quarrelsome clerics, and among furious bishops, while he was harassed with almost
daily scandals on all sides, nevertheless stood absolutely firm with unconquerable virtue
against all these things, and performed such wonders as not even those accomplished of
whom we have heard that they are, or at one time were, in the wilderness.

2 But even had they done things equal to his, what judge would be so unjust as not, on
good grounds, to decide that he was the more powerful? For put the case that he was a
soldier who fought on unfavorable ground, and yet turned out a conqueror, and compare
them, in like manner, to soldiers, who however, contended on equal terms, or even on
favorable terms, with the enemy. What then? Although the victory of all is one and the
same the glory of all certainly cannot be equal. And even though you have narrated
marvelous things, still you have not stated that a dead man was recalled to life by any
one. In this one particular undoubtedly, it must be owned that no one is to be compared
with Martin.

CHAPTER XXV.

1 "For,if it is worthy of admiration that the flames did not touch that Egyptian of whom
you have spoken, Martin also not infrequently proved his power over fire. If you remind us
that the savagery of wild beasts was conquered by, and yielded to, the anchorites, Martin,
for his part, was accustomed to keep in check both the fury of wild beasts and the poison
of serpents. But, if you bring forward for comparison him who cured those possessed of
unclean spirits, by the authority of his word, or even through the instrumentality of
threads from his dress, there are many proofs that Martin was not, even in this respect,
inferior. Nay, should you have recourse to him, who, covered with his own hair instead of
a garment, was thought to be visited by angels, with Martin angels were wont to hold daily
discourse. Moreover, he bore so unconquerable a spirit against vanity and boastfulness,
that no one more determinedly disdained these vices, and that, although he often, while
absent, cured those who were filled with unclean spirits, and issued his commands not only
to courtiers or prefects, but also to kings themselves. This was indeed a very small thing
amid his other virtues, but I should wish you to believe that no one ever contended more
earnestly than he did against not only vanity, but also the causes and the occasions of
vanity.

2 I shall also mention what is indeed a small point, but should not be passed over,
because it is to the credit of a man who, being possessed of the highest power, manifested
such a pious desire to show his regard for the blessed Martin. I remember, then, that
Vincentius the prefect, an illustrious man, and one of the most eminent in all Gaul for
every kind of virtue, when he had occasion to be in the vicinity of Tours, often begged of
Martin that he would allow him to stay with him in the monastery. In making this request,
he brought forward the example of Saint Ambrose, the bishop, who was generally spoken of
at that time as being in the habit of entertaining both consuls and prefects. But Martin,
with deeper judgment, refused so to act, lest by so doing some vanity and inflation of
spirit might steal upon him. You, therefore, must acknowledge that there existed in Martin
the virtues of all those men whom you have mentioned, but there were not found in all of
them the virtues by which Martin was distinguished."

CHAPTER XXVI.

1 "Why do you," here exclaimed Postumianus, "speak to me in such a manner? As if I did not
hold the same opinion as yourself, and had not always been of the same mind. I, indeed, as
long as I live, and retain my senses, will ever celebrate the monks of Egypt: I will
praise the anchorites; I will admire the eremites; but I will place Martin in a position
of his own: I do not venture to compare to him any one of the monks, far less any of the
bishops. Egypt owns this: Syria and Aethiopia have discovered this: India has heard this;
Parthia and Persia have known this; not even Armenia is ignorant of it; the remote
Bosphorus is aware of it; and in a word, those are acquainted with it who visit the
Fortunate Islands or the Arctic Ocean. All the more wretched on this account is this
country of ours, which has not been found worthy to be acquainted with so great a man,
although he was in its immediate vicinity. However, I will not include the people at large
in this censure: only the clerics, only the priests know nothing of him; and not without
reason were they, in their ill-will, disinclined to know him, inasmuch as, had they become
acquainted with his virtues they must have recognized their own vices. I shudder to state
what I have lately heard, that a miserable man (I know him not), has said that you have
told many lies in that book of yours.

2 This is not the voice of a man, but of the devil; and it is not Martin who is, in this
way, injured, but faith is taken from the Gospels themselves. For, since the Lord himself
testified of works of the kind which Martin accomplished, that they were to be performed
by all the faithful, he who does not believe that Martin accomplished such deeds, simply
does not believe that Christ uttered such words. But the miserable, the degenerate, the
somnolent, are put to shame, that the things which they themselves cannot do, were done by
him, and prefer rather to deny his virtues than to confess their own inertness. But let
us, as we hasten on to other matters, let go all remembrance of such persons: and do you
rather, as I have for a long time desired, proceed to narrate the still untold deeds of
Martin." 3 "Well," said I, "I think that your request would more properly be directed to
our friend the Gaul, since he is acquainted with more of Martin's doings than I am-for a
disciple could not be ignorant of the deeds of his master-and who certainly owes a return
of kindness, not only to Martin, but to both of us, inasmuch as I have already published
my book, and you have, so far, related to us the doings of our brethren in the East. Let
then, our friend the Gaul commence that detailed account which is due from him: because,
as I have said, he both owes us a return in the way of speaking, and will, I believe, do
this much for his friend Martin-that he shall, not unwillingly, give a narrative of his
deeds."

CHAPTER XXVII.

1 "Well," said the Gaul, "I, for my part, though I am unequal to so great a task, feel
constrained by those examples of obedience which have been related above by Postumianus,
not to refuse that duty which you impose upon me. But when I reflect that I, a man of
Gaul, am about to speak in the presence of natives of Aquitania, I fear lest my somewhat
rude form of speech should offend your too delicate ears. However, you will listen to me
as a foolish sort of man, who says nothing in an affected or stilted fashion. For if you
have conceded to me that I was a disciple of Martin, grant me this also that I be allowed,
under the shelter of his example, to despise the vain trappings of speech and ornaments of
words." 2 "Certainly," replied Postumianus, "speak either in Celtic, or in Gaulish, if you
prefer it, provided only you speak of Martin. But for my part, I believe, that, even
though you were dumb, words would not be wanting to you, in which you might speak of
Martin with eloquent lips, just as the tongue of Zacharias was loosed at the naming of
John. But as you are, in fact, an orator, you craftily, like an orator, begin by begging
us to excuse your unskillfulness, because you really excel in eloquence. But it is not
fitting either that a monk should show such cunning, or that a Gaul should be so artful.
But to work rather, and set forth what you have still got to say, for we have wasted too
much time already in dealing with other matters; and the lengthening shadow of the
declining sun warns us that no long portion of day remains till night be upon us. Then,
after we had all kept silence for a little, the Gaul thus begins-" I think I must take
care in the first place not to repeat those particulars about the virtues of Martin, which
our friend Sulpitius there has related in his book. For this reason, I shall pass over his
early achievements, when he was a soldier; nor will I touch on those things which he did
as a layman and a monk. At the same time, I shall relate nothing which I simply heard from
others, but only events of which I myself was an eye-witness."

CHAPTER I.

1 " Well then, when first, having left the schools, I attached myself to the blessed man,
a few days after doing so, we followed him on his way to the church. In the way, a poor
man, half-naked in these winter-months, met him, and begged that some clothing might be
given him. Then Martin, calling for the chief-deacon, gave orders that the shivering
creature should be clothed without delay. After that, entering a private apartment, and
sitting down by himself, as his custom was-for he secured for himself this retirement even
in the church, liberty being granted to the clerics, since indeed the presbyters were
seated in another apartment, either spending their time in mutual courtesies, or occupied
in listening to affairs of business. But Martin kept himself in his own seclusion up to
the hour at which custom required that the sacred rites should be dispensed to the people.
AndI will not pass by this point that; when sitting in his retirement, he never used a
chair; and, as to the church, no one ever saw him sitting there, as I recently saw a
certain man (God is my witness), not without a feeling of shame at the spectacle, seated
on a lofty throne, yea, in its elevation, a kind of royal tribunal; but Martin might be
seen sitting on a rude little stool, such as those in use by the lowest of servants, which
we Gallic country-people call tripets, and which you men of learning, or those at least
who are from Greece, call tripods.

2 Well, that poor man who had been chanced upon, as the chief-deacon delayed to give him
the garment, rushed into this private apartment of the blessed man, complaining that he
had not been attended to by the cleric, and bitterly mourning over the cold he suffered.
No delay took place: the holy man, while the other did not observe, secretly drew off his
tunic which was below his outer garment, and clothing the poor man with this, told him to
go on his way. Then, a little after, the chief-deacon coming in informs him, according to
custom, that the people were waiting in the church, and that it was incumbent on him to
proceed to the performance of the sacred rites. Martin said to him in reply that it was
necessary that the poor man-referring to himself-should be clothed, and that he could not
possibly proceed to the church, unless the poor man received a garment. But the deacon,
not understanding the true state of the case-that Martin, while outwardly clad with a
cloak, was not seen by him to be naked underneath, at last begins to complain that the
poor man does not make his appearance. `Let the garment which has been got ready,' said
Martin, `be brought to me;

3 there will not be wanting the poor man requiring to be clothed.' Then, at length, the
cleric, constrained by necessity, and now in not the sweetest temper, hurriedly procures a
rough garment out of the nearest shop, short and shaggy, and costing only five pieces of
silver, and lays it, in wrath at the feet of Martin. `See,' cries he, `there is the
garment, but the poor man is not here.' Martin, nothing moved, bids him go to the door for
a little, thus obtaining secrecy, while, in his nakedness, he clothes himself with the
garment, striving with all his might to keep secret what he had done. But when do such
things remain concealed in the case of the saints desiring that they should be so? Whether
they will or not, all are brought to light.

CHAPTER II.

1 "Martin, then, clothed in this garment, proceeds to offer the sacrifice to God. And then
on that very day-I am about to narrate something wonderful-when he was engaged in blessing
the altar, as is usual, we beheld a globe of fire dart from his head, so that, as it rose
onhigh, the flame produced a hair of extraordinary length. And, although we saw this take
place on a very famous day in the midst of a great multitude of people, only one of the
virgins, one of the presbyters, and only three of the monks, witnessed the sight: but why
the others did not behold it is a matter not to be decided by our judgment. 2 "About the
same time, when my uncle Evanthius, a highly Christian man, although occupied in the
affairs of this world, had begun to be afflicted with a very serious illness, to the
extreme danger of his life, he sent for Martin. And, without any delay, Martin hastened
towards him ; but, before the blessed man had completed the half of the distance between
them, the sick man experienced the power of him that was coming; and, being immediately
restored to health, he himself met us as we were approaching. With many entreaties, he
detainedMartin, who wished to return home on the following day; for, in the meantime, a
serpent had struck with a deadly blow a boy belonging to my uncle's family; and Evanthius
himself, on his own shoulders, carried him all but lifeless through the force of the
poison, and laid him at the feet of the holy man, believing that nothing was impossible to
him. By this time, the serpent had diffused its poison through all the members of the boy:
one could see his skin swollen in all his veins, and his vitals strung up like a leather-
bottle. Martin stretched forth his hand, felt all the limbs of the boy, and placed his
finger close to the little wound, at which the animal had instilled the poison. Then in
truth-I am going to tell things wonderful-we saw the whole poison, drawn from every part
of the body, gather quickly together to Martin's finger; and next, we beheld the poison
mixed with blood press through the small puncture of the wound, just as a long line of
abundant milk is wont to flow forth from the teats of goats or sheep, when these are
squeezed by the hand of shepherds. The boy rose up quite well. We were amazed by so
striking a miracle; and we acknowledged-as, indeed, truth compelled us to do-that there
was no one under heaven who could equal the deeds of Martin.

CHAPTER III.

1 "In the same way, some time afterwards, we made a journey with him while he visited the
various parishes in his diocese. He had gone forward a little by himself, some necessity
or other, I know not what, compelling us to keep behind. In the meantime, a state-
conveyance, full of military men, was coming along the public highway. But when the
animals near the side beheld Martin in his shaggy garment, with a long black cloak over
it, being alarmed, they swerved a little in the opposite direction. Then, the reins
getting entangled, they threw into confusion those extended lines in which, as you have
often seen, those wretched creatures are held together; and as they were with difficulty
rearranged, delay, of course, was caused to those people hastening forward. Enraged by
this injury, the soldiers, with hasty leaps, made for the ground. And then they began to
belabor Martin with whips and staves; and as he, in silence and with incredible patience,
submitted his back to them smiting him, this roused the greater fury in these wretches,
for they became all the more violent from the fact, that he, as if he did not feel the
blows showered upon him, seemed to despise them. He fell almost lifeless to the earth; and
we, ere long, found him covered with blood, and wounded in every part of his body. Lifting
him up without delay, and placing him upon his own ass, while we execrated the place of
that cruel bloodshed, we hastened, off as speedily as possible.

2 In the meantime,the soldiers having returned to their conveyance,after their fury was
satisfied, urge the beasts to proceed in the direction in which they had been going. But
they all remained fixed to the spot, as stiff as if they had been brazen statues, and
although their masters shouted at them, and the sound of their whips echoed on every side,
still the animals never moved. These men next all fall to with lashes; in fact, while
punishing the mules, they waste all the Gallic whips they had. The whole of the
neighboring wood is laid hold of, and the beasts are beaten with enormous cudgels; but
these cruel hands still effected nothing: the animals continued to stand in one and the
same place like fixed effigies. The wretched men knew not what to do, and they could no
longer conceal from themselves that, in some way or other, there was a higher power at
work in the bosoms of these brutes, so that they were, in fact, restrained by the
interposition of a deity. At length, therefore, returning to themselves, they began to
enquire who he was whom but a little before they had scourged at the same place; and when,
on pursuing the investigation, they ascertained from those on the way that it was Martin
who had been so cruelly beaten by them, then, indeed, the cause of their misfortune
appeared manifest to all; and they could no longer doubt that they were kept back on
account of the injury done to that man.

3 Accordingly, they all rush after us at full speed, and, conscious of what they had done
and deserved, overwhelmed with shame, weeping, and having their heads and faces smeared
with the dust with which they themselves had besprinkled their bodies, they cast
themselves at Martin's feet, imploring his pardon, and begging that he would allow them to
proceed. They added that they had been sufficiently punished by their conscience alone,
and that they deeply felt that the earth might swallow them alive in that very spot, or
that rather, they, losing all sense, might justly be stiffened into immovable rocks, just
as they had seen their beasts of burden fixed to the places in which they stood; but they
begged and entreated him to extend to them pardon for their crime, and to allow them to go
on their way. The blessed man had been aware, before they came up to us, that they were in
a state of detention, and had already informed us of the fact; however, he kindly granted
them forgiveness; and, restoring-their animals, permitted them to pursue their journey.

CHAPTER IV.

1 "I have often noticed this, Sulpitius, that Martin was accustomed to say to you, that
such an abundance of power was by no means granted him while he was a bishop, as he
remembered to have possessed before he obtained that office. Now, if this be true, or
rather since it is true, we may imagine how great those things were which, while still a
monk, he accomplished, and which, without any witness, he effected apart by himself; since
we have seen that, while a bishop, he performed so great wonders before the eyes of all.
Many, no doubt, of his former achievements were known to the world, and could not be hid,
but those are said to have been innumerable which, while he avoided boastfulness, he kept
concealed and did not allow to come to the knowledge of mankind; for, inasmuch as he
transcended the capa- bilities of mere man, in a consciousness of his own eminence, and
trampling upon worldly glory, he was content simply to have heaven as a witness of his
deeds. That this is true we can judge even from these things which are well known to us,
and could not be hid; since e.g. before he became a bishop he restored two dead men to
life, facts of which your book has treated pretty fully, but, while he was bishop, he
raised up only one, a point which I am surprised you have not noticed. I myself am a
witness to this latter occurrence;

2 but, probably, you have no doubts about the matter being duly testified. At any rate, I
will set before you the affair as it happened. For some reason, I know not what, we were
on our way to the town of the Carnutes. In the meantime, as we pass by a certain village
most populous in inhabitants, an enormous crowd went forth to meet us, consisting entirely
of heathen; for no one in that village was acquainted with a Christian. Nevertheless,
owing to the report of the approach of so great a man, a multitude of those streaming to
one point had filled all the widely spreading plains. Martin felt that some work was to be
performed; and as the spirit within him was thus moving him, he was deeply excited. He at
once began to preach to the heathen the word of God, so utterly different from that of
man, often groaning that so great a crowd should be ignorant of the Lord the Saviour. In
the meantime, while an incredible multitude had surrounded us, a certain woman, whose son
had recently died, began to present, with outstretched hands, the lifeless body to the
blessed man, saying, "We know that you are a friend of God: restore me my son, who is my
only one. The rest of the multitude joined her, and added their entreaties to those of the
mother.

3 Martin perceiving, as he afterwards told us, that he could manifest power, in order to
the salvation of those waiting for its display, received the body of the deceased into his
own hands; and when, in the sight of all, he had fallen on his knees, and then arose,
after his prayer was finished, he restored to its mother the child brought back to life.
Then, truly, the whole multitude, raising a shout to heaven, acknowledged Christ as God,
and finally began to rush in crowds to the knees of the blessed man, sincerely imploring
that he would make them Christians. Nor did he delay to do so. As they were in the middle
of the plain, he made them all catechumens, by placing his hand upon the whole of them;
while, at the same time, turning to us, he said that, not without reason, were these made
catechumens in that plain where the martyrs were wont to be consecrated."

CHAPTER V.

1 "You have conquered, O Gaul," said Postumianus, "you have conquered, although certainly
not me, who am, on the contrary, an upholder of Martin, and who have always known and
believed all these things about that man ; but you have conquered all the eremites and
anchorites. For no one of them, like young friend, or rather our friend, Martin, ruled
over deaths of all kinds. And Sulpitius there justly compared him to the apostles and
prophets, in as much as the power of his faith, and the works accomplished by his power,
bear witness that he was, in all points, like them. But go on, I beg of you, although we
can hear nothing more striking than we have heard-still, go on, O Gaul, to set forth what
still remains of what you have to say concerning Martin. For the mind is eager to know
even the least and commonest of his doings, since there is no doubt that the least of his
actions surpass the greatest deeds of others."

2 "I will do so," replies the Gaul, "but I did not myself witness what I am about to
relate, for it took place before I became an associate of Martin's; still, the fact is
well known, having been spread through the world by the accounts given by faithful
brethren, who were present on the occasion. Well, just about the time when he first became
a bishop, a necessity arose for his visiting the imperial court. Valentinian, the eider,
then was at the head of affairs. When he came to know that Martin was asking for things
which he did not incline to grant, he ordered him to be kept from entering the doors of
the palace. Besides his own unkind and haughty temper, his wife Arriana had urged him to
this course, and had wholly alienated him from the holy man, so that he should not show
him the regard which was due to him. Martin, accordingly, when he had once and again
endeavored to procure an interview with the haughty prince, had recourse to his well-known
weapons-he clothes himself in sackcloth, scatters ashes upon his person, abstains from
food and drink, and gives himself, night and day, to continuous prayer. On the seventh
day, an angel appeared to him, and tells him to go with confidence to the palace, for that
the royal doors, although closed against him, would open of their own accord, and that the
haughty spirit of the emperor would be softened.

3 Martin, therefore, being encouraged by the address of the angel who thus appeared to
him, and trusting to his assistance, went to the palace. The doors stood open, and no one
opposed his entrance; so that, going in, he came at last into the presence of the king,
without any one seeking to hinder him. The king, however, seeing him at a distance as he
approached, and gnashing his teeth that he had been admitted, did not, by any means,
condescend to rise up as Martin advanced, until fire covered the royal seat, and until the
flames seized on a part of the royal person. In this way the haughty monarch is driven
from his throne, and, much against his will, rises up to receive Martin. He even gave many
embraces to the man whom he had formerly determined to despise, and, coming to a better
frame of mind, he confessed that he perceived the exercise of Divine power; without
waiting even to listen to the requests of Martin, he granted all he desired before being
asked. Afterwards the king often invited the holy man both to conferences and
entertainments; and, in the end, when he was about to depart, offered him many presents,
which, however, the blessed man, jealously maintaining his own poverty, totally refused,
as he did on all similar occasions.

CHAPTER VI.

1 " And as we have, once for all, entered the palace, I shall string together events which
there took place, although they happened at different times. And, indeed, it does not seem
to me right that I should pass unmentioned the example of admiration for Martin which was
shown by a faithful queen. Maximus then ruled the state, a man worthy of being extolled in
his whole life, if only he had been permitted to reject a crown thrust upon him by the
soldiery in an illegal tumult, or had been able to keep out of civil war. But the fact is,
that a great empire can neither be refused without danger, nor can be preserved without
war. He frequently sent for Martin, received him into the palace, and treated him with
honor; his whole speech with him was concerning things present, things to come, the glory
of the faithful, and the immortality of the saints; while, in the meantime, the queen hung
upon the lips of Martin, and not inferior to her mentioned in the Gospel, washed the feet
of the holy man with tears and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Martin, though no
woman had hitherto touched him, could not escape her assiduity, or rather her servile
attentions. She did not think of the wealth of the kingdom, the dignity of the empire, the
crown, or the purple; only stretched upon the ground, she could not be torn away from the
feet of Martin.

2 At last she begs of her husband (saying that both of them should constrain Martin to
agree) that all other attendants should be removed from the holy man, and that she alone
should wait upon him at meals. Nor could the blessed man refuse too obstinately. His
modest entertainment is got up by the hands of the queen; she herself arranges his seat
for him; places his table; furnishes him with water for his hands; and serves up the food
which she had herself cooked. While he was eating, she, with her eyes fixed on the ground,
stood motionless at a distance, after the fashion of servants, displaying in all points
the modesty and humility of a ministering servant. She herself mixed for him his drink and
presented it. When the meal was over, she collected the fragments and crumbs of the bread
that had been used, preferring with true faithfulness these remains to imperial banquets.
Blessed woman! worthy, by the display of so great piety, of being compared to her who came
from the ends of the earth to hear Solomon, if we merely regard the plain letter of the
history. But the faith of the two queens is to be compared (and let it be granted me to
say this, setting aside the majesty of the secret truth implied): the one obtained her
desire to hear a wise man; the other was thought worthy not only to hear a wise man, but
to wait upon him."


DIALOGUES
=========

DIALOGUES continued

CHAPTER VII.

1 To these sayings Postumianus replies: "While listening to you, O Gaul, I have for a long
time been admiring the faith of the queen; but to what does that statement of yours lead,
that no woman was ever said to have stood more close to Martin? For let us consider that
that queen not only stood near him, but even ministered unto him. I really fear lest those
persons who freely mingle among women should to some extent defend themselves by that
example." 2 Then said the Gaul: "Why do you not notice, as grammarians are wont to teach
us, the place, the time, and the person? For only set before your eyes the picture of one
kept in the palace of the emperor importuned by prayers, constrained by the faith of the
queen, and bound by the necessities of the time, to do his utmost that he might set free
those shut up in prison, might restore those who had been sent into exile, and might
recover goods that had been taken away,-of how much importance do you think that these
things should have appeared to a bishop, so as to lead him, in order to the accomplishment
of them all, to abate not a little of the rigor of his general scheme of life? However, as
you think that some will make a bad use of the example thus furnished them, I shall only
say that those will be truly happy if they do not fall short of the excellence of the
example in question. For let them consider that the facts of the case are these: once in
his life only, and that when in his seventieth year, was Martin served and waited upon at
his meals, not by a free sort of widow, nor by a wanton virgin, but by a queen, who lived
under the authority of a husband, and who was supported in her conduct by the entreaties
of her husband, that she might be allowed so to act.

3 It is further to be observed that she did not recline with Martin at the entertainment,
nor did she venture even to partake in the feast, but simply gave her services in waiting
upon him. Learn, therefore, the proper course; let a matron serve thee, and not rule thee;
and let her serve, but not recline along with thee; just as Martha, of whom we read,
waited upon the Lord without being called to partake in the feast: nay, she who chose
rather simply to hear the word was preferred to her that served. But in the case of
Martin, the queen spoken of fulfilled both parts: she both served like Martha and listened
like Mary. If any one, then, desires to make use of this example, let him keep to it in
all particulars; let the cause be the same, the person the same, the service the same, and
the entertainment the same,-and let the thing occur once only in one's whole life."

CHAPTER VIII.

1 "Admirably," exclaimed Postumianus, "does your speech bind those friends of ours from
going beyond the example of Martin; but I own to you my belief that these remarks of yours
will fall upon deaf ears. For if we were to follow the ways of Martin, we should never
need to defend ourselves in the case of kissing, and we should be free from all the
reproaches of sinister opinion. But as you are wont to say, when you are accused of being
too fond of eating, 'We are Gauls,' so we, for our part, who dwell in this district, will
never be reformed either by the example of Martin, or by your dissertations. But while we
have been discussing these points at so great length, why do you, Sulpitius, preserve such
an obstinate silence?" "Well, for my part," replied I, "I not only keep silence, but for a
long time past I have determined to be silent upon such points. For, because I rebuked a
certain spruce gadding-about widow, who dressed expensively, and lived in a somewhat loose
manner, and also a virgin, who was following somewhat indecently a certain young man who
was dear to me,-although, to be sure, I had often heard her blaming others who acted in
such a manner,-I raised up against me such a degree of hatred on the part of all the women
and all the monks, that both bands entered upon sworn war against me. Wherefore, be quiet,
I beg of you, lest even what we are saying should tend to increase their animosity towards
me. Let us entirely blot out these people from our memory, and let us rather return to
Martin. Do thou, friend Gaul, as you have begun, carry out the work you have taken in
hand."

2 Then says he: "I have really related already so many things to you, that my speech ought
to have satisfied your desires; but, because I am not at liberty to refuse compliance with
your wishes, I shall continue to speak as long as the day lasts. For, in truth, when I
glance at that straw, which is being prepared for our beds, there comes into my mind a
recollection respecting the straw on which Martin had lain, that a miracle was wrought in
connection with it. The affair took place as follows. Claudiomagus is a village on the
confines of the Bituriges and the Turoni. The church there is celebrated for the piety of
the saints, and is not lessillustrious for the multitude of the holy virgins. Well,
Martin, being in the habit of passing that way, had an apartment in the private part of
the church. After he left, all the virgins used to rush into that retirement: they kiss
every place where the blessed man had either sat or stood, and distribute among themselves
the very straw on which he had lain. One of them, a few days afterwards, took a part of
the straw which she had collected for a blessing to herself, and hung it from the neck of
a possessed person, whom a spirit of error was troubling. There was no delay; but sooner
than one could speak the demon was cast out, and the person was cured.

CHAPTER IX.

1 "About the same time, a cow which a demon harassed met Martin as he was returning from
Treves. That cow, leaving its proper herd, was accustomed to attack human beings, and had
already seriously gored many with its horns. Now, when she was coming near us, those who
followed her from a distance began to warn us, with a loud voice, to beware of her. But
after she had in great fury come pretty near to us, with rage in her eyes, Martin, lifting
up his hand, ordered the animal to halt, and she immediately stood stock-still at his
word. Upon this, Martin perceived a demon sitting upon her back, and reproving it, he
exclaimed, 'Begone, thou deadly being; leave the innocent beast, and cease any longer to
torment it.' The evil spirit obeyed and departed. And the heifer had sense, enough to
understand that she was set free; for, peace being restored to her, she fell at the feet
of the holy man; and on Martin directing her, she made for her own herd, and, quieter than
any sheep, she joined the rest of the band. This also was the time at which he had no
sensation of being burnt, although placed in the midst of the flames; but I do not think
it necessary for me to give an account of this, because Sulpitius there, though passing
over it in his book, has nevertheless pretty fully narrated it in the epistle which he
sent to Eusebius, who was then a presbyter, and is now a bishop. I believe, Postumianus,
you have either read this letter, or, if it is still unknown to you, you may easily obtain
it, when you please, from the bookcase. I shall simply narrate particulars which he has
omitted.

2 "Well, on a certain occasion, when he was going round the various parishes, we came upon
a band of huntsmen. The dogs were pursuing a hare, and the little animal was already much
exhausted by the long run it had bad. When it perceived no means of escape in the plains
spreading far on every side, and was several times just on the point of being captured, it
tried to delay the threatened death by frequent doublings. Now the blessed man pitied the
danger of the creature with pious feelings, and commanded the dogs to give up following
it, and to permit it to get safe away. Instantly, at the first command they heard, they
stood quite still: one might have thought them bound, or rather arrested, so as to stand
immovable in their own footprints. In this way, through her pursuers being stopped as if
tied together, the hare got safe away.

CHAPTER X.

1 "Moreover, it will be worth while to relate also some of his familiar sayings, since
they were all salted with spiritual instruction. He happened to see a sheep that had
recently been sheared; and, `See,' says he, `she has fulfilled the precept of the Gospel:
she had two coats, and one of them she has given to him who had none: thus, therefore, ye
ought also to do.' Also, when he perceived a swineherd in a garment of skin, cold and, in
fact, all but naked, he exclaimed: `Look at Adam, cast out of Paradise, how he feeds his
swine in a garment of skin; but let us, laying aside that old Adam, who still remains in
that man, rather put on the new Adam.' Oxen had, in one part, eaten up the grass of the
meadows; pigs also had dug up some portions of them with their snouts; while the remaining
portion, which continued uninjured, flourished, as if painted with variously tinted
flowers. `That part,' said he, `which has been eaten down by cattle, although it has not
altogether lost the beauty of grass, yet retains no grandeur of flowers, conveys to us a
representation of marriage; that part, again, which the pigs, unclean animals, had dug up,
presents a loathsome picture of fornication; while the remaining portion, which had
sustained no injury, sets forth the glory of virginity;-it flourishes with abundance of
grass; the fruits of the field abound in it;

2 and, decked with flowers to the very extreme of beauty, it shines as if adorned with
glittering gems. Blessed is such beauty and worthy of God; for nothing is to be compared
with virginity. Thus, then, those who set marriage side by side with fornication
grievously err; and those who think that marriage is to be placed on an equal footing with
virginity are utterly wretched and foolish. But this distinction must be maintained by
wise people, that marriage belongs to those things which may be excused, while virginity
points to glory, and fornication must incur punishment unless its guilt is purged away
through atonement.'

CHAPTER XI.

1 "A certain soldier had renounced the military life in the Church, having professed
himself a monk, and had erected a cell for himself at a distance in the desert, as if with
the purpose of leading the life of an eremite. But in course of time the crafty adversary
harassed his unspiritual nature with various thoughts, to the effect that, changing his
mind, he should express a desire that his wife, whom Martin had ordered to have a place in
the nunnery of the young women, should rather dwell along with him. The courageous
eremite, therefore, visits Martin, and makes known to him what he had in his mind. But
Martin denied very strongly that a woman could, in inconsistent fashion, be joined again
to a man who was now a monk, and not a husband. At last, when the soldier was insisting on
the point in question; asserting that no evil would follow from carrying out his purpose;
that he simply desired to possess the solace of his wife's company; and that there was no
fear of his again returning to his own pursuits; adding that he was a soldier of Christ,
and that she also had taken the oath of allegiance in the same service;

2 and that the bishop therefore should allow to serve as soldiers together people who were
saints, and who, in virtue of their faith, totally ignored the question of sex,-then
Martin (I am going to repeat his very words to you) exclaimed: ' Tell me if you have ever
been in war, and if you have ever stood in the line of battle?' In answer he said, '
Frequently; I have often stood in line of battle, and been present in war.' On this Martin
replies: 'Well, then, tell me, did you ever in a line which was prepared with arms for
battle, or, having already advanced near, was fighting against a hostile army with drawn
sword-did you ever see any woman standing there, or fighting?' Then at length the soldier
became confused and blushed, while he gave thanks that he had not been permitted to follow
his own evil counsel, and at the same time had not been put right by the use of any harsh
language, but by a true and rational analogy, connected with the person ofa soldier.
Martin, for his part, turning to us (for a great crowd of brethren had surrounded him),
said: ' Let not a woman enter the camp of men, but let the line of soldiers remain
separate, and let the females, dwelling in their own tent, be remote from that of men. For
this renders an army ridiculous, if a female crowd is mixed with the regiments of men.

3 Let the soldier occupy the line, let the soldier fight in the plain, but let the woman
keep herself within the protection of the walls. She, too, certainly has her own glory,
if, when her husband is absent, she maintains her chastity; and the first excellence, as
well as completed victory of that, is, that she should not be seen.'

CHAPTER XII.

1 "Ibelieve, my dear Sulpitius, that you remember with what emphasis he extolled to us
(when you too were present) that virgin who had so completely withdrawn herself from the
eyes of all men, that she did not admit to her presence Martin himself, when he wished to
visit her in the discharge of duty. For when he was passing by the little property, within
which for several years she had chastely confined herself, having heard of her faith and
excellence, he turned out of his way that, as a bishop, he might honor, with pious
respect, a gift of such eminent merit. We who journeyed with him thought that that virgin
would rejoice, inasmuch as she was to obtain such a testimony to her virtue, while a
priest of so great reputation, departing from his usual rigor of conduct, paid her a
visit. But she did not relax those bonds of a most severe method of life, which she had
imposed upon herself, even by allowing herself to see Martin. And thus the blessed man,
having received, through another woman, her praiseworthy apology, joyfully departed from
the doors of her who had not permitted herself to be seen or saluted. O glorious virgin,
who did not allow herself to be looked upon even by Martin! O blessed Martin, who did not
regard that repulse as being any insult to himself, but, extolling with exultant heart her
excellence, rejoiced in an example only too rare in that locality!

2 Well, when approaching night had compelled us to stay at no great distance from her
humble dwelling, that same virgin sent a present to the blessed man; and Martin did what
he had never done before (for he accepted a present or gift from nobody), he refused none
of those things which the estimable virgin had sent him, declaring that her blessing was
by no means to be rejected by a priest, since she was indeed to be placed before many
priests. Let, I beg, virgins listen to that example, so that they shall, if they desire to
close their doors to the wicked, even shut them against the good ; and that the ill-
disposed may have no free access to them, they shall not fear even to exclude priests from
their society. Let the whole world listen attentively to this: a virgin did not permit
herself to be looked upon by Martin. And it was no common priest whom she repulsed, but
the girl refused to come under the eyes of a man whom it was the salvation of onlookers to
behold. But what priest, besides Martin, would not have regarded this as doing an injury
to him? What irritation and fury would he have conceived in his mind against that virgin?
He would have deemed her a heretic; and would have resolved that she should be laid under
an anathema.

3 And howsurely would such a man have preferred to that blessed soul those virgins who are
always throwing themselves in the way of the priest, who get up sumptuous entertainments,
and who recline at table with the rest! But whither is my speech carrying me? That
somewhat too free manner of speaking must be checked, lest perchance it may give offense
to some; for words of reproach will not profit the unfaithful, while the example quoted
will be enough for the faithful. At the same time, I wish so to extol the virtue of this
virgin, as nevertheless to think that no deduction is to be made from the excellence of
those others, who often came from remote regions for the purpose of seeing Martin, since
indeed, with the same object in view, even angels ofttimes visited the blessed man.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 "Butin what I am now about to narrate, I possess you, Sulpitius" (here he looked at me).
"as a fellow-witness. One day, I and Sulpitius there were watching before Martin's door,
and had already sat in silence for several hours. We did so with deep reverence and awe,
as if we were carrying out a watch prescribed to us before the tent of an angel; while,
all the time, the door of his cell being closed, he did not know that we were there.
Meanwhile, we heard the sound of people conversing, and by and by we were filled with a
kind of awe and amazement, for we could not help perceiving that something divine was
going on. After nearly two hours, Martin comes out to us; and then our friend Sulpitius
(for no one was accustomed to speak to him more familiarly) began to entreat him to make
known to us, piously enquiring on the subject, what meant that sort of Divine awe which we
confessed we had birth felt, and with whom he had been conversing in his cell. We added
that, as we stood before the door, we had undoubtedly heard a feeble sound of
peopletalking, but had scarcely understood it. Thenhe after a long delay (but there was
really nothing which Sulpitius could not extort from him even against his will:

2 I am about to relate things somewhat difficult of belief, but, as Christ is my witness,
I lie not, unless any one is so impious as to think that Martin himself lied) said: ' I
will tell you, but I beg you will not speak of it to any one else. Agnes, Thecla, and Mary
were there with me.' He proceeded to describe to us the face and general aspect of each.
And he acknowledged that, not merely on that day, but frequently, he received visits from
them. Nor did he deny that Peter also and Paul, the Apostles, were pretty frequently seen
by him. Moreover, he was in the habit of rebuking the demons by their special names,
according as they severally came to him. He found Mercury a cause of special annoyance,
while he said that Jupiter was stupid and doltish. I am aware that these things seemed
incredible even to many who dwelt in the same monastery; andfar less can I expect that all
who simply hear of them will believe them. For unless Martin had lived such an inestimable
life, and displayed such excellence, he would by no means be regarded among us as having
been endowed with so great glory. And yet it is not at all wonderful that human infirmity
doubted concerning the works of Martin, when we see that many at the present day do not
even believe the Gospels. But we have ourselves had personal knowledge and experience,
that angels often appeared and spoke familiarly with Martin.

3 As bearing upon this, I am to narrate a matter, of small importance indeed, but still I
will state it. A synod, composed of bishops, was held at Nemausus, and while he had
refused to attend it, he was nevertheless desirous of knowing what was done at it. It so
happened that our friend Sulpitius was then on board ship with him, but, as was his
custom, he kept his place at a distance from the rest, in a retired part of the vessel.
There an angel announced to him what had taken place in the synod. And when, afterwards,
we carefully enquired into the time at which the council was held, we found, beyond all
doubt, that that was the very day of the council, and that those things were there decreed
by the bishops which the angel had announced to Martin.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 "Butwhen we questioned him concerning the end of the world, he said to us that Nero and
Antichrist have first to come ; that Nero will rule in the Western portion of the world,
after having subdued ten kings; and that a persecution will be carried on by him, with the
view of compelling men to worship the idols of the Gentiles. He also said that Antichrist,
on the other hand, would first seize upon the empire of the East, having his seat and the
capital of his kingdom at Jerusalem; while both the city and the temple would be restored
by him. He added that his persecution would have for its object to compel men to deny
Christ as God, while he maintained rather that he himself was Christ, and ordered all men
to be circumcised, according to the law. He further said that Nero was to be destroyed by
Antichrist, and that the whole world, and all nations, were to be reduced under the power
of Antichrist, until that impious one should be overthrown by the coming of Christ. He
told us, too, that there was no doubt but that Antichrist, having been conceived by an
evil spirit, was already born, and had, by this time, reached the years of boyhood, while
he would assume power as soon as he reached the proper age. Now, this is the eighth year
since we heard these words from his lips: you may conjecture, then, how nearly about to
happen are those things which are feared in the future."

2 As our friend the Gaul was emphatically speaking thus, and had not yet finished what he
intended to relate, a boy of the family entered with the announcement that the presbyter
Refrigerius was standing at the door. We began to doubt whether it would be better to hear
the Gaul further, or to go and welcome that man whom we so greatly loved, and who had come
to pay his respects to us, when our friend the Gaul remarked: "Even although this most
holy priest had not arrived, this talk of ours would have had to be cut short, for the
approach of night was itself urging us to finish the discourse which has been so far
continued. But inasmuch as all things beating upon the excellences of Martin have by no
means yet been mentioned, let what you have heard suffice for to-day: to-morrow we shall
proceed to what remains." This promise of our Gallic friend being equally acceptable to us
all, we rose up.

CHAPTER I.

1 "It is daylight, our Gallic friend, and you must get up. For, as you see, both
Postumianus is urgent, and this presbyter, who was yesterday admitted to hear what was
going on, expects that what you put off narrating with regard to our beloved Martin till
to-day, you should now, in fulfillment of your promise, proceed to tell. He is not,
indeed, ignorant of all the things which are to be related, but knowledge is sweet and
pleasant even to one who goes over again things already known to him; since, indeed, it
has been so arranged by nature that one rejoices with a better conscience in his knowledge
of things which he is sure, through the testimony borne to them by many, are not in any
degree uncertain. For this man, too, having been a follower of Martin from his early
youth, has indeed been acquainted with all his doings; but he gladly hears over again
things already known. And I will confess to thee, O Gaul, that the virtues of Martin have
often been heard of by me, since, in fact, I have committed to writing many things
regarding him; but through the admiration I feel for his deeds, those things are always
new to me which, although I have already heard them, are, over and over again, repeated
concerning him. Wherefore, we congratulate you that Refrigerius has been added to us as a
hearer, all the more earnestly that Postumianus is manifesting such eagerness, because he
hastens, as it were, to convey a knowledge of these things to the East, and is now to hear
the truth from you confirmed, so to speak, by witnesses."

2 As I was saying these words, and as the Gaul was now ready to resume his narrative,
there rushes in upon us a crowd of monks, Evagrius the presbyter, Aper, Sabbatius,
Agricola; and, a little after, there enters the presbyter Aetherius, with Calupio the
deacon, and Amator the sub deacon; lastly, Aurelius the presbyter, a very dear friend of
mine, who came from a longer distance, rushes up out of breath. "Why," I enquire, "do you
so suddenly and unexpectedly run together to us from so many different quarters, and at so
early an hour in the morning?" "We," they reply, "heard yesterday that your friend the
Gaul spent the whole day in narrating the virtues of Martin, and, as night overtook him,
put off the rest until to-day: wherefore, we have made haste to furnish him with a crowded
audience, as he speaks about such interesting matters." In the meantime, we are informed
that a multitude of lay people are standing at the door, not venturing to enter, but
begging, nevertheless, that they might be admitted. Then Aper declares, "Itis by no means
proper that these people should be mixed up with us, for they have come to hear, rather
from curiosity than piety." I was grieved for the sake of those who ought not, as he
thought, to be admitted, but all that I could obtain, and with difficulty, was that they
should admit Eucherius from among the lieutenants, and Celsus, a man of consular rank,
while the rest were kept back. We then place the Gaul in the middle seat; and he, after
long keeping silence, in harmony with his well-known modesty, at length began as follows.

CHAPTER II.

1 "You have assembled, my pious and eloquent friends, to hear me; but, as I presume, you
have brought to the task religious rather than learned ears; for you are to listen to me
simply as a witness to the faith, and not as speaking with the fluency of an orator. Now,
I shall not repeat the things which were spoken yesterday: those who did not hear them can
become acquainted with them by means of the written records. Postumianus expects something
new, intending to make known what he hears to the East, that it may not, when Martin is
brought into comparison, esteem itself above the West. And first, my mind inclines to set
forth an incident respecting which Refrigerius has just whispered in my ear: the affair
took place in the city of Carnutes. A certain father of a family ventured to bring to
Martin his daughter of twelve years old, who had been dumb from her birth, begging that
the blessed man would loose, by his pious merits, her tongue, which was thus tied. He,
giving way to the bishops Valentinus and Victricius, who then happened to be by his side,
declared that he was unequal to so great an undertaking, but that nothing was impossible
to them, as if holier than himself. But they, adding their pious entreaties, with
suppliant voices, to those of the father, begged Martin to accomplish what was hoped for.

2 He made no further delay,-being admirable in both respects, in the display, first of
all, of humility, and then in not putting off a pious duty,-but orders the crowd of people
standing round to be removed; and while the bishops only, and the father of the girl, were
present, he prostrates himself in prayer, after his usual fashion. He then blesses a
little oil, while he utters the formula of exorcism; and holding the tongue of the girl
with his fingers, he thus pours the consecrated liquid into her mouth. Nor did the result
of the power thus exerted disappoint the holy man. He asks her the name of her father, and
she instantly replied. The father cries out, embracing the knees of Martin, with a mixture
of joy and tears; and while all around are amazed, he confesses that then for the first
time he listened to the voice of his daughter. And that this may not appear incredible to
any one, let Evagrius, who is here, furnish you with a testimony of its truth; for the
thing took place in his very presence.

CHAPTER III.

1 "The following is a small matter which I learned lately from the narration of Arpagius
the presbyter, but I do not think it ought to bepassed over. The wife of the courtier
Avitianus had sent some oil to Martin, that he might bless it (such is the custom) so as
to be ready when needful to meet different causes of disease. It was contained in a glass
jar of a shape which, round throughout, gradually bulges out towards the middle, with a
long neck; but the hollow of the extended neck was not filled, because it is the custom to
fill vessels of the kind in such a, way that the top may be left free for the knobs which
stop up the jar. The presbyter testified that he saw the oil increase under the blessing
of Martin, so much that, the abundance of it overflowing the jar, it ran down from the top
in every direction. He added that it bubbled up with the same effect, while the vessel was
being carried back to the mistress of the household; for the oil so steadily flowed over
in the hands of the boy carrying it, that the abundance of the liquid, thus pouring down,
covered all his garment.

2 He said, moreover, that the lady received the vessel so full even to the brim, that (as
the same presbyter tells us at the present day) there was no room in that jar for
inserting the stopper by which people are accustomed to close those vessels, the contents
of which are to be preserved with special care. That, too, was a remarkable thing that
happened to this man," Here he looked at me. "He had set down a glass vessel containing
oil blessed by Martin in a pretty high window; and a boy of the family, not knowing that a
jar was there, drew towards him the cloth covering it, with rather much violence. The
vessel, in consequence, fell down on the marble pavement. Upon this, all were filled with
dread lest the blessing of God, bestowed on the vessel by Martin, had been lost; but the
jar was found as safe as ever, just as if it had fallen on the softest feathers. Now, this
result should be ascribed, not so much to chance, as to the power of Martin, whose
blessing could not possibly perish.

3 "There is this, too, which was effected by a certain person, whose name, because he is
present, and has forbidden it to be mentioned, shall be suppressed: Saturninus too, who is
now with us, was present on the occasion referred to. A dog was barking at us in a
somewhat disagreeable manner. ' I command thee,' said the person in question, ' in the
name of Martin, to be quiet.' The dog-his barking seemed to stick in his throat, and one
might have thought that his tongue had been cut out-was silent. Thus it is really a small
matter that Martin himself performed miracles: believe me that other people also have
accomplished many things in his name.

CHAPTER IV.

1 "You knew the too barbarous and, beyond measure, bloody ferocity of Avitianus, a former
courtier. He enters the city of the Turones with a furious spirit, while rows of people,
laden with chains, followed him with melancholy looks, orders various kinds of punishments
to be got ready for slaying them; and to the grave amazement of the city, he arranges them
for the sad work on the following day. When this became known to Martin, he set out all
alone, a little before midnight, for the palace of that beast. But when, in the silence of
the depths of the night, and as all were at rest, no entrance was possible through the
bolted doors, he lays himself down before that cruel threshold. In the meantime,
Avitianus, buried in deep sleep, is smitten by an assailing angel, who says to him, ' Does
the servant of God lie at your threshold, and do you continue sleeping?' He, on listening
to these words, rises, in much disturbance, from his bed; and calling his servants, he ex-
claims in terror, 'Martin is at the door: go immediately, and undo the bolts, that the
servant of God may suffer no harm.' But they, in accordance with the tendency of all
servants, having scarcely stepped beyond the first threshold, and laughing at their master
as having been mocked by a dream, affirm that there was no one at the door.

2 This they did as simply inferring from their own disposition, that no one could be
keeping watch through the night, while fat less did they believe that a priest was lying
at the threshold of another man during the horror of that night. Well, they easily
persuaded Avitianus of the truth of their story. He again sinks into sleep; but, being ere
long struck with greater violence than before, he exclaimed that Martin was standing at
the door, and that, therefore, no rest either of mind or body was allowed him. As the
servants delayed, he himself went forward to the outer threshold; and there he found
Martin, as he had thought he would. The wretched man, struck by the display of so great
excellence, exclaimed, `Why, sir, have you done this to me? There is no need for you to
speak: I know what you wish: I see what you require: depart as quickly as possible, lest
the anger of heaven consume me on account of the injury done you: I have already suffered
sufficient punishment. Believe me, that I have firmly determined in my own mind how I
should now proceed.' So then, after the departure of the holy man, he calls for his
officials and orders all the prisoners to be set free, while presently he himself went his
way.Thus Avitianus being put to flight, the city rejoiced, and felt at liberty.

CHAPTER V.

1 "Wrote these are certain facts, since Avitianus related them to many persons, they are
further confirmed on this ground that Refrigerius the presbyter, whom you see here
present, lately had them narrated to him, under an appeal to the Divine majesty, by
Dagridus, a faithful man among the tribunes, who swore that the account was given him by
Avitianus himself. But I do not wish you to wonder that I do to-day what I did not do
yesterday; viz. that I subjoin to the mention of every individual wonder the names of
witnesses, and mention persons to whom, if any one is inclined to disbelieve, he may have
recourse, because they are still in the body. The unbelief of very many has compelled
that; for they are said to hesitate about some things which were related yesterday. Let
these people, then, accept as witnesses persons who are still alive and well, and let them
give more credit to such, inasmuch as they doubt our good faith. But really, if they are
so unbelieving, I give it as my opinion that they will not believe even the witnesses
named. And yet I am surprised that any one, who has even the least sense of religion, can
venture on such wickedness as to think that any one could tell lies concerning Martin. Be
that far from every one who lives in obedience to God; for, indeed, Martin does not
require to be defended by falsehoods.

2 But, O Christ, we lay the truth of our whole discourse before thee, to the effect that
we neither have said, nor will say, anything else than what either we ourselves have
witnessed, or have learned from undoubted authorities, and, indeed, very frequently from
Martin himself. But although we have adopted the form of a dialogue, in order that the
style might be varied to prevent weariness, still we affirm that we are really setting
forth a true history in a dutiful spirit. The unbelief of some has compelled me, to my
great regret, to insert in my narrative these remarks which are apart from the subject in
hand. But let the discourse now return to our assembly; in which since I saw that I was
listened to so eagerly, I found it necessary to acknowledge that Aper acted properly in
keeping back the unbelieving, under the conviction he had that those only ought to be
allowed to hear who were of a believing spirit.

CHAPTER VI.

1 "I am enraged in heart, believe me, and, through vexation, I seem to lose my senses: do
Christian men not believe in the miraculous powers of Martin, which the demons
acknowledged? 2 "The monastery of the blessed man was at two miles' distance from the
city; but if, as often as he was to come to the church, he only had set his foot outside
the threshold of his cell, one could perceive the possessed roaring through the whole
church, and the bands of guilty ones trembling as if their judge were coming, so that the
groanings of the demons announced the approach of the bishop to the clerics, who were not
previously aware that he was coming. I saw a certain man snatched up into the air on the
approach of Martin, and suspended there with his hands stretched upwards, so that he could
in no way touch the ground with his feet. But if at any time Martin undertook the duty of
exorcising the demons, he touched no one with his hands, and reproached no one in words,
as a multitude of expressions is generally rolled forth by the clerics; but the possessed,
being brought up to him, he ordered all others to depart, and the doors being bolted,
clothed in sackcloth and sprinkled with ashes, he stretched himself on the ground in the
midst of the church, and turned to prayer. Then truly might one behold the wretched beings
tortured with various results-some hanging, as it were, from a cloud, with their feet
turned upwards, and yet their garments did not fall down over their faces, lest the part
of their body which was exposed should give rise to shame;

3 while in another part of the church one could see them tortured without any question
being addressed to them, and confessing their crimes. They revealed their names, too, of
their own accord; one acknowledged that he was Jupiter, and another that he was Mercury.
Finally, one could see all the servants of the devil suffering agony, along with their
master, so that we could not help acknowledging that in Martin there was fulfilled that
which is written that `the saints shall judge angels.'

CHAPTER VII.

"There was a certain village in the country of the Senones which was every year annoyed
with hail. The inhabitants, constrained by an extreme of suffering, sought help from
Martin. A highly respectable embassy was sent to him by Auspicius, a man of the rank of
prefect, whose fields the storm had been wont to smite more severely than it did those of
others. But Martin, having there offered up prayer, so completely freed the whole district
from the prevailing plague, that for twenty years, in which he afterwards remained in the
body, no one in those places suffered from hail. And that this may not be thought to be
accidental, but rather effected by Martin, the tempest, returning afresh, once more fell
upon the district in the year in which he died. The world thus felt the departure of a
believing man to such a degree, that, as it justly rejoiced in his life, so it also
bewailed his death. But if any hearer, weak in faith, demands also witnesses to prove
those things which we have said, I will bring forward, not one man, but many thousands,
and will even summon the whole region of the Senones to bear witness to the power which
was experienced. But not to speak of this, you, presbyter Refrigerius, remember, I
believe, that we lately had a conversation, concerning the matter referred to, with
Romulus, the son of that Auspicius I mentioned, an honored and religious man. He related
the points in question to us, as if they had not been previously known; and as he was
afraid of constant losses in future harvests, he did, as you yourself beheld, regret, with
much lamentation, that Martin was not preserved up to this time.

CHAPTER VIII.

1 "But to return to Avitianus: while at every other place, and in all other cities, he
displayed marks of horrible cruelty, at Tours alone he did no harm. Yes, that beast, which
was nourished by human blood, and by the slaughter of unfortunate creatures, showed
himself meek and peaceable in the presence of the blessed man. I remember that Martin one
day came to him, and having entered his private apartment, he saw a demon of marvelous
size sitting behind his back. Blowing upon him from a distance (if I may, as a matter of
necessity, make use of a word which is hardly Latin , Avitianus thought that he was
blowing at him, and exclaimed, 'Why, thou holy man, dost thou treat me thus?' But then
Martin said, ' It is not at you, but at him who, in all his terribleness, leans over your
neck.' The devil gave way, and left his familiar seat; and it is well known that, ever
after that day, Avitianus was milder, whether because he now understood that he had always
been doing the will of the devil sitting by him, or because the unclean spirit, driven
from his seat by Martin, was deprived of the power of attacking him ; while the servant
was ashamed of his master, and the master did not force on his servant.

2 "In a village of the Ambatienses, that is in an old stronghold, which is now largely
inhabited by brethren, you know there is a great idol-temple built up with labor. The
building had been constructed of the most polished stones and furnished with turrets; and,
rising on high in the form of a cone, it preserved the superstition of the place by the
majesty of the work. The blessed man had often enjoined its destruction on Marcellus, who
was there settled as presbyter. Returning after the lapse of some time, he reproved the
presbyter, became the edifice of the idol-temple was still standing. He pleaded in excuse
that such an immense structure could with difficulty be thrown down by a band of soldiers,
or by the strength of a large body of the public, and far less should Martin think it easy
for that to be effected by means of weak clerics or helpless monks. Then Martin, having
recourse to his well-known auxiliaries, spent the whole night in watching and prayer-with
the result that, in the morning, a storm arose. and cast down even to its foundations the
idol-temple. Now let this narrative rest on the testimony of Marcellus.

CHAPTER IX.

1 "Iwill make use of another not dissimilar marvel in a like kind of work, having the
concurrence of Refrigerius in doing so. Martin was prepared to throw down a pillar of
immense size, on the top of which an idol stood, but there was no means by which effect
could be given to his design. Well, according to his usual practice, he betakes himself to
prayer. It is undoubted that then a column, to a certain degree like the other, rushed
down from heaven, and falling upon the idol, it crushed to powder the whole of the
seemingly indestructible mass this would have been a small matter, had he only in an
invisible way made use of the powers of heaven, but these very powers were beheld by human
eyes serving Martin in a visible manner. "Again, the same Refrigerius is my witness that a
woman, suffering from an issue of blood, when she had touched the garment of Martin, after
the example of the woman mentioned in the Gospel, was cured in a moment of time.

2 "Aserpent, cutting its way through a river, was swimming towards the bank on which we
had taken our stand. ' In the name of the Lord,' said Martin, ' I command thee to return.'
Instantly, at the word of the holy man, the venomous beast turned round, and while we
looked on, swam across to the farther bank. As we all perceived that this had not happened
without a miracle; he groaned deeply, and exclaimed, 'Serpents hear me, but men will not
hear. '

CHAPTER X.

1 "Being accustomed to eat fish at the time of Easter, he enquired a little before the
hour for refreshment, whether it was in readiness. Then Cato, the deacon, to whom the
outward management of the monastery belonged, and who was himself a skillful fisher, tells
him that no capture had fallen to his lot the whole day, and that other fishers, who used
to sell what they caught, had also been able to do nothing. 'Go,' said he, ' let down your
line, and a capture will follow.' As Sulpitius there has already described, we had our
dwelling close to the river. We all went, then, as these were holidays, to see our friend
fishing, with the hopes of all on the stretch, that the efforts would not be in vain by
which, under the advice of Martin himself, it was sought to obtain fish for his use. At
the first throw the deacon drew out, in a very small net, an enormous pike, and ran
joyfully back to the monastery, with the feeling undoubtedly to which some poet gave
utterance (for we use a learned verse, inasmuch as we are conversing with learned
people)-` And brought his captive boar to wondering Argos.'

2 "Truly that disciple of Christ, imitating the miracles performed by the Saviour, and
which he, by way of example, set before the view of his saints, showed Christ also working
in him, who, glorifying his own holy follower everywhere, conferred upon that one man the
gifts of various graces. Arborius, of the imperial bodyguard, testifies that he saw the
hand of Martin as he was offering sacrifice, clothed, as it seemed, with the noblest gems,
while it glittered with a purple light; and that, when his right hand was moved, he heard
the clash of the gems, as they struck together.

CHAPTER XI.

1 "Iwill now come to an event which he always concealed, owing to the character of the
times, but which he could not conceal from us. In the matter referred to, there is this of
a miraculous nature, that an angel conversed, face to face, with him. The Emperor Maximus,
while in other respects doubtless a good man, was led astray by the advices of some
priests after Priscillian had been put to death. He, therefore, protected by his royal
power Ithacius the bishop, who had been the accuser of Priscillian, and others of his
confederates, whom it is not necessary to name. The emperor thus prevented every one from
bringing it as a charge against Ithacius, that, by his instrumentality, a man of any sort
had been condemned to death. Now Martin, constrained to go to the court by many serious
causes of people involved in suffering, incurred the whole force of the storm which was
there raging. The bishops who had assembled at Treves were retained in that city, and
daily communicating with Ithacius, they had made common cause with him. When it was
announced to them expecting no such information, that Martin was coming, completely losing
courage, they began to mutter and tremble among themselves. And it so happened that
already, under their influence, the emperor had determined to send some tribunes armed
with absolute power into the two Spains, to search out heretics, and, when found, to
deprive them of their life or goods.

2 Now there was no doubt that that tempest would also make havoc of multitudes of the real
saints, little distinction being made between the various classes of in- dividuals. For in
such circumstances, a judgment was formed simply by appearances, so that one was deemed a
heretic rather on his turning pale from fear, or wearing a particular garment, than by the
faith which he professed. And the bishops were well aware that such proceedings would by
no means please Martin; but, conscious of evil as they were, this was a subject of deep
anxiety to them, lest when he came, he should keep from communion with them; knowing well
as they did, that others would not be wanting who, with his example to guide them, would
follow the bold course adopted by so great a man. They therefore form a plan with the
emperor, to this effect, that, officials of the court being sent on to meet him, Martin
should be forbidden to come any nearer to that city, unless he should declare that he
would maintain peace with the bishops who were living there. But he skillfully frustrated
their object, by declaring that he would come among them with the peace of Christ. And at
last, having entered during the night, he went to the church, simply for the purpose of
prayer. On the following day he betakes himself to the palace. Besides many other
petitions which he had to present, and which it would be tedious to describe, the
following were the principal:

3 entreaties in behalf of the courtier Nurses, and the president Leucadius, both of whom
had belonged to the party of Gratianus, and that, with more than ordinary zeal, upon which
this is not the time to dilate, and who had thus incurred the anger of the conqueror; but
his chief request was, that tribunes, with the power of life and death, should not be sent
into the Spains. For Martin felt a pious solicitude not only to save from danger the true
Christians in these regions, who were to be persecuted in connection with that expedition,
but to protect even heretics themselves. But on the first and second day the wily emperor
kept the holy man in suspense, whether that he might impress on him the importance of the
affair, or because, being obnoxious to the bishops, he could not be reconciled to them, or
because, as most people thought at the time, the emperor opposed his wishes from avarice,
having cast a longing eye on the property of the persons in question. For we are told that
he was really a man distinguished by many excellent actions, but that he was not
successful in contending against avarice. This may, however, have been due to the
necessities of the empire at the time, for the treasury of the state had been exhausted by
former rulers; and he, being almost constantly in the expectation of civil wars, or in a
state of preparation for them, may easily be excused for having, by all sorts of
expedients, sought resources for.

4 the defense of the empire.

CHAPTER XII.

1 "Inthe meantime, those bishops with whom Martin would not hold communion went in terror
to the king, complaining that they had been condemned beforehand; that it was all over
with them as respected the status of every one of them, if the authority of Martin was now
to uphold the pertinacity of Theognitus, who alone had as yet condemned them by a sentence
publicly pronounced; that the man ought not to have been received within the walls; that
he was now not merely the defender of heretics, but their vindicator; and that nothing had
really been accomplished by the death of Priscillian, if Martin were to act the part of
his avenger. Finally, prostrating themselves with weeping and lamentation, they implored
the emperor to put forth his power against this one man. And the emperor was not far from
being compelled to assign to Martin, too, the doom of heretics. But after all, although he
was disposed to look upon the bishops with too great favor, he was not ignorant that
Martin excelled all other mortals in faith, sanctity, and excellence: he therefore tries
another way of getting the better of the holy man. And first he sends for him privately,
and addresses him in the kindest fashion, assuring him that the heretics were condemned in
the regular course of public trials, rather than by the persecutions of the priests; and
that there was no reason why he should think that communion with Ithacius and the rest of
that party was a thing to be condemned.

2 He added that Theognitus had created disunion, rather by personal hatred, than by the
cause he supported; and that, in fact, he was the only person who, in the meantime, had
separated himself from communion: while no innovation had been made by the rest. He
remarked further that a synod, held a few days previously, had decreed that Ithacius was
not chargeable with any fault. When Martin was but little impressed by these statements,
the king then became inflamed with anger, and hurried out of his presence; while, without
delay, executioners are appointed for those in whose behalf Martin had made supplication.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 "When this became known to Martin, he rushed to the palace, though it was now night. He
pledges himself that, if these people were spared, he would communicate; only let the
tribunes, who had already been sent to the Spains for the destruction of the churches, be
recalled. There is no delay: Maximus grants all his requests. On the following day, the
ordination of Felix as bishop was being arranged, a man undoubtedly of great sanctity, and
truly worthy of being made a priest in happier times. Martin took part in the communion of
that day, judging it better to yield for the moment, than to disregard the safety of those
over whose heads a sword was hanging. Nevertheless, although the bishops strove to the
uttermost to get him to confirm the fact of his communicating by signing his name, he
could not be induced to do so. On the following day, hurrying away from that place, as he
was on the way returning, he was filled with mourning and lamentation that he had even for
an hour been mixed up with the evil communion, and, not far, from a village named
Andethanna, where remote woods stretch far and wide with profound solitude, he sat down
while his companions went on a little before him. There he became involved in deep
thought, alternately accusing and defending the cause of his grief and conduct. Suddenly,
an angel stood by him and said, `Justly, O Martin, do you feel compunction, but you could
not otherwise get out of your difficulty.

2 Renew your virtue, resume your courage, lest you not only now expose your fame, but your
very salvation, to danger.' Therefore, from that time forward, he carefully guarded
against being mixed up in communion with the party of Ithacius. But when it happened that
he cured some of the possessed more slowly and with less grace than usual, he at once
confessed to us with tears that he felt a diminution of his power on account of the evil
of that communion in which he had taken part for a moment through necessity, and not with
a cordial spirit. He lived sixteen years after this, but never again did he attend a
synod, and kept carefully aloof from all assemblies of bishops.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 "But clearly, as we experienced, he repaired, with manifold interest, his grace, which
had been diminished for a time. I saw afterwards a possessed person brought to him at the
gate of the monastery; and that, before the man touched the threshold, he was cured. "I
lately heard one testifying that, when he was sailing on the Tuscan Sea, following that
course which leads to Rome, whirlwinds having suddenly arisen, all on board were in
extreme peril of their lives. In these circumstances, a certain Egyptian merchant, who was
not yet a Christian, cried out, ' Save us, O God of Martin,' upon which the tempest was
immediately stilled, and they held their desired course, while the pacified ocean
continued in perfect tranquillity. 2 "Lycontius, a believing man belonging to the
lieutenants, when a violent disease was afflicting his family, and sick bodies were lying
all through his house in sad proof of unheard-of calamity, implored the help of Martin by
a letter. At this time the blessed man declared that the thing asked was difficult to be
obtained, for he knew in his spirit that that house was then being scourged by Divine
appointment. Yet he did not give up an unbroken course of prayer and fasting for seven
whole days and as many nights, so that he at last obtained that which he aimed at in his
supplications. Speedily, Lycontius, having experienced the Divine kindness, flew to him,
at once reporting the fact and giving thanks, that his house had been delivered from all
danger. He also offered a hundred pounds of silver, which the blessed man neither rejected
nor accepted; but before the amount of money touched the threshold of the monastery, he
had, without hesitation, destined it for the redemption of captives. And when it was
suggested to him by the brethren, that some portion of it should be reserved for the
expenses of the monastery, since it was difficult for all of them to obtain necessary
food, while many of them were sorely in need of clothing, he replied, ' Let the church
both feed and clothe us, as long as we do not appear to have provided, in any way, for our
own wants.'

3 "Thereoccur to my mind at this point many miracles of that illustrious man, which it is
more easy for us to admire than to narrate. You all doubtless recognize the truth of what
I say: there are many doings of his which cannot be set forth in words. For instance,
there is the following, which I rather think cannot be related by us just as it took
place. A certain one of the brethren (you are not ignorant of his name, but his person
must be concealed, lest we should cause shame to a godly man),-a certain one, I say,
having found abundance of coals for his stove, drew a stool to himself, and was sitting,
with outspread legs and exposed person, beside that fire, when Martin at once perceived
that an improper thing was done under the sacred roof, and cried out with a loud voice,
'Who, by exposing his person, is dishonoring our habitation?' When our brother heard this,
and felt from his own conscience, that it was he who was rebuked, he immediately ran to us
almost in a fainting condition, and acknowledged his shame; which was done, how- ever,
only through the forth-putting of the power of Martin.

CHAPTER XV.

1 "Again, on a certain day, after he had sat down on that wooden seat of his (which you
all know), placed in the small open court which surrounded his abode, he perceived two
demons sitting on the lofty rock which overhangs the monastery. He then heard them, in
eager and gladsome tones, utter the following invitation, 'Come hither, Brictio, come
hither, Brictio.' I believe they perceived the miser: able man approaching from a
distance, being conscious how great frenzy of spirit they had excited within him. Nor is
there any delay: Brictio rushes in in absolute fury; and there, full of madness, he vomits
forth a thousand reproaches against Martin. For he had been reproved by him on the
previous day, because he who had possessed nothing before he entered the clerical office,
having, in fact, been brought up in the monastery by Martin himself, was now keeping
horses and purchasing slaves. For at that time, he was accused by many of not only having
bought boys belonging to barbarous nations, but girls also of a comely appearance. The
miserable man, moved with bitter rage on account of these things, and, as I believe,
chiefly instigated by the impulse received from those demons, made such an onset upon
Martin as scarcely to refrain from laying hands upon him. The holy man, on his part, with
a placid countenance and a tranquil mind, endeavored by gentle words to restrain the
madness of the unhappy wretch.

2 But the spirit of wickedness so prevailed within him, that not even his ownmind, at best
a very vain one, was under his control. With trembling lips, and a changing countenance,
pale with rage, he rolled forth the words of sin, asserting that he was a holier man than
Martin who had brought him up, inasmuch as from his earliest years he had grown up in the
monastery amid the sacred institutions of the Church, while Martin had at first, as he
could not deny, been tarnished with the life of a soldier, and had now entirely sunk into
dotage by means of his baseless superstitions, and ridiculous fancies about visions. After
he had uttered many things like these, and others of a still mort bitter nature, which it
is better not to mention going out, at length, when his rage was satisfied he seemed to
feel as if he had completely vindicated his conduct. But with rapid steps he rushed back
by the way he had .gone out, the demons having, I believe, been, in the meantime, driven
from his heart by the prayers of Martin, and he was now brought back to repentance.
Speedily, then, he returns, and throws himself at the feet of Martin, begging for pardon
and confessing his error, while, at length restored to a better mind, he acknowledges that
he hadbeen under the influence of a demon. It was no difficult business for Martin to
forgive the suppliant.

3 And then the holy man explained both to him and to us all, how he had seen him driven on
by demons, and declared that he was not moved by the reproaches which had been heaped upon
him; for they had, in fact, rather injured the man who uttered them. And subsequently,
when this same Brictio was often accused before him of many and great crimes, Martin could
not be induced to remove him from the presbyterate, lest he should be suspected of
revenging the injury done to himself, while he often repeated this saying: ' If Christ
bore with Judas, why should not I bear with Brictio?"'

CHAPTER XVI.

Upon this, Postumianus exclaims, "Let that well-known man in our immediate neighborhood,
listen to that example, who, when he is wise, takes no notice either of things present or
future, but if he has been offended, falls into utter fury, having no control over
himself. He then rages against the clerics, and makes bitter attacks upon the laity, while
he stirs up the whole world for his own revenge. He will continue in this state of
contention for three years without intermission, and refuse to be mollified either by time
or reason. The condition of the man is to be lamented and pitied, even if this were the
only incurable evil by which he is afflicted. But you ought, my Gallic friend, to have
frequently recalled to his mind such examples of patience and tranquillity, that he might
know both how to be angry and how to forgive. And if he happens to hear of this speech of
mine which has bean briefly interpolated into our discourse, and. directed against
himself, let him know that I spoke, not more with the lips of an enemy than the mind of a
friend; because I should wish, if the thing were possible, that he should be spoken of
rather as being like the bishop Martin, than the tyrant Phalaris. But let us pass away
from him, since the mention of him is far from pleasant, and let us return, O Gaul, to our
friend Martin."

CHAPTER XVII.

1 Then said I, since I perceived by the setting sun that evening was at hand: "The day is
gone, Postumianus; we must rise up; and at the same time some refreshment is due to these
so zealous listeners. And as to Martin, youought not to expect that there is any limit to
one talking about him: he extends too far to be comprised fully in any conversation. In
the meantime, you will convey to the East the things you have now heard about that famous
man; and as you retrace your steps to your former haunts, and pass along by various
coasts, places, harbors, islands, and seas, see that you spread among the peoples the name
and glory of Martin. Especially remember that you do not omit Campania; and although your
route will take you far off the beaten track, still any expenditure from delay will not be
to you of so much importance as to keep you from visiting in that quarter Paulinus, a man
renowned and praised throughout the whole world. I beg you first to unroll to him the
volume of discourse which we either completed yesterday, or have said to-day. You will
relate all to him; you will repeat all to him; that in due time, by his means, Rome may
learn the sacred merits of this man, just as he spread that first little book of ours not
only through Italy, but even through the whole of Illyria.

2 He, not jealous of the glories of Martin, and being a most pious admirer of his saintly
excellences in Christ, will not refuse to compare our leading man with his own friend
Felix. Next, if you happen to cross over to Africa, you will relate what you have heard to
Carthage; and, although, as you yourself have said, it already knows the man, yet now pre-
eminently it will learn more respecting him, that it may not admire its own martyr Cyprian
alone, although consecrated by his sacred blood. And then, if carried down a little to the
left, you enter the gulf of Achaia, let Corinth know, and let Athens know, that Plato in
the academy was not wiser, and that Socrates in the prison was not braver, than Martin.
You will say to them that Greece was indeed happy which was thought worthy to listen to an
apostle pleading, but that Christ has by no means forsaken Gaul, since he has granted it
to possess such a man as Martin. But when you have come as far as Egypt, although it is
justly proud of the numbers and virtues of its own saints, yet let it not disdain to hear
how Europe will not yield to it, or to all Asia, in having only Martin.

CHAPTER XVIII.

1 "But when you have again set sail from that place with the view of making for Jerusalem,
I enjoin upon you a duty connected with our grief, that, if you ever come to the shore of
renowned Ptolemais, you enquire most carefully where Pomponius, that friend of ours, is
buried, and that you do not refuse to visit his remains on that foreign soil. There shed
many tears, as much from the working of your own feelings, as from our tender affection;
and although it is but a worthless gift, scatter the ground there with purple flowers and
sweet-smelling grass. And you will say to him, but not roughly, and not harshly,-with the
address of one who sympathizes, and not with the tone of one who reproaches,-that if he
had only been willing to listen to you at one time, or to me constantly, and if he had
invited Martin rather than that man whom I am unwilling to name, he would never have been
so cruelly separated from me, or covered by a heap of unknown dust, having suffered death
in the midst of the sea with the lot of a ship-wrecked pirate, and with difficulty
securing burial on a far-distant shore. Let those behold this as their own work, who, in
seeking to revenge him, have wished to injure me, let them behold their own glory, and
being avenged,let them henceforth cease to make any attacks upon me."

2 Having uttered these sad words in a very mournful voice, and while the tears of all the
others were drawn forth by our laments, we at length departed, certainly with a profound
admiration for Martin, but with no less sorrow from our own lamentations.


THE SACRED HISTORY
==================

THE SACRED HISTORY Sulpicius Severus

c. AD 363–425

Biographer of Martin of Tours and church historian.

CHAPTER I.

1 I address myself to give a condensed account of those things which are set forth in the
sacred Scriptures from the beginning of the world and to tell of them, with distinction of
dates and according to their importance, down to period within our own remembrance. Many
who were anxious to become acquainted with divine things by means of a compendious
treatise, have eagerly entreated me to undertake this work. I, seeking to carry out their
wish, have not spared my labor, and have thus succeeded in comprising in two short books
things which elsewhere filled many volumes. At the same time, in studying brevity, I have
omitted hardly any of the facts. Moreover, it seemed to me not out of place that, after I
had run through the sacred history down to the crucifixion of Christ, and the doings of
the Apostles, I should add an account of events which subsequently took place. I am,
therefore, to tell of the destruction of Jerusalem, the persecutions of the Christian
people, the times of peace which followed, and of all things again thrown into confusion
by the intestine dangers of the churches. But I will not shrink from confessing that,
wherever reason required, I have made use of pro-fine historians to fix dates and preserve
the series of events unbroken, and have taken out of these what was wanting to a complete
knowledge of the facts, that I might both instruct the ignorant and carry conviction to
the learned.

2 Nevertheless, as to those things which I have condensed from the sacred books, I do not
wish so to present myself as an author to my readers, that they, neglecting the source
from which my materials have been derived, should be satisfied with what I have written.
My aim is that one who is already familiar with the original should recognize here what he
has read there; for all the mysteries of divine things cannot be brought out except from
the fountain-head itself. I shall now enter upon my narrative.

CHAPTER II.

1 The world was created by God nearly six thousand years ago, as we shall set forth in the
course of this book; although those who have entered upon and published a calculation of
the dates, but little agree among themselves. As, however, this disagreement is due either
to the will of God or to the fault of antiquity, it ought not to be a matter of censure.
After the formation of the world man was created, the male being named Adam, and the
female Eve. Having been placed in Paradise, they ate of the tree from which they were
interdicted, and therefore were cast forth as exiles into our earth. To them were born
Cain and Abel; but Cain, being an impious man, slew his brother. He had a son called
Enoch, by whom a city was first built, and was called after the name of its founder. From
him Irad, and from him again Matuahel was descended. He had a son called Mathusalam, and
he, in turn, begat Lamech, by whom a young man is said to have been slain, without,
however, the name of the slain man being mentioned-a fact which is thought by the wise to
have presaged a future mystery. Adam, then, after the death of his younger son, begat
another son called Seth, when he was now two hundred and thirty years old: he lived
altogether eight hundred and thirty years.

2 Seth begat Enos, Enos Cainan, Cainan Malaleel, Malaleel Jared, and Jared Enoch, who on
account of his righteousness is said to have been translated by God. His son was called
Mathusalam who begat Lamech; from whom Noah was descended, remarkable for his
righteousness, and above all other mortals dear and acceptable to God. When by this time
the human race had increased to a great multitude, certain angels,whose habitation was in
heaven, were captivated by the appearance of some beautiful virgins, and cherished illicit
desires after them, so much so, that filling beneath their own proper nature and origin,
they left the higher regions of which they were inhabitants, and allied themselves in
earthly marriages. These angels gradually spreading wicked habits, corrupted the human
family, and from their alliance giants are said to have sprung, for the mixture with them
of beings of a different nature, as a matter of course, gave birth to monsters.

CHAPTER III.

God being offended by these things, and especially by the wickedness of mankind, which had
gone beyond measure, had determined to destroy the whole human race. But he exempted Noah,
a righteous man and of blameless life, from the destined doom. He being warned by God that
a flood was coming upon the earth, built an ark of wood of immense size, and covered it
with pitch so as to render it impervious to water. He was shut into it along with his
wife, and his three sons and his three daughters-in-law. Pairs of birds also and of the
different kinds of beasts were likewise received into it, while all the rest were cut off
by a flood. Noah then, when he understood that the violence of the rain had ceased, and
that the ark was quietly floating on the deep, thinking (as really was the case) that the
waters were decreasing, sent forth first a raven for the purpose of enquiring into the
matter, and on its not returning, having settled, as I conjecture, on the dead bodies, he
then sent forth a dove. It, not finding a place of rest, returned to him and being again
sent out, it brought back an olive leaf, in manifest proof that the tops of the trees were
now to be seen. Then being sent forth a third time, it returned no more, from which it was
understood that the waters had subsided; and Noah accordingly went out from the ark. This
was done, as I reckon, two thousand two hundred and forty-two years after the beginning of
the world.

CHAPTER IV.

Then Noah first of all erected an altar to God, and offered sacrifices from among the
birds. Immediately afterwards he was blessed by God along with his sons, and received a
command that he should not eat blood, or shed the blood of any human being, because Cain,
having no such precept, had stained the first age of the world. Accordingly, the sons
ofNoah were alone left in the then vacant world; for he had three, Shem, Ham, and Japhet.
But Ham, because he had mocked his father when senseless with wine, incurred his father's
curse. His son, Chas by name, begat the giant Nebroth, by whom the city of Babylon is said
to have been built. Many other towns are relatedto have been founded at that time, which I
do not here intend to name one by one. Butalthough the human race was now multiplied, and
men occupied different places and islands, nevertheless all made use of one tongue, as
long as the multitude, afterwards to be scattered through the whole world, kept itself in
one body. These, after the manner of human nature, formed the design of obtaining a great
name by constructing some great work before they should be separated from one another.
They therefore attempted to build a tower which should reach up to heaven. But by the
ordination of God, in order that the labors of those engaged in the work might be
hindered, they began to speak in a kind of languages very different from their accustomed
form of speech, while no one understood the others. This led to their being all the more
readily dispersed, because, regarding each other as foreigners, they were easily induced
to separate. And the world was so divided to the sons of Noah, that Shem occupied the
East, Japhet the West, and Ham the intermediate parts. After this, till the time of
Abraham, their genealogy presented nothing very remarkable or worthy of record.

CHAPTER V.

Abraham, whose father was Thara, was born in the one thousand and seventeenth year after
the deluge. His wife was called Sara, and his dwelling-place was at first in the country
of the Chaldaeans. He then dwelt along with his father at Charrae. Being at this time
spoken to by God, he left his country and his father, and taking with him Lot, the son of
his brother, he came into the country of the Canaanites, and settled at a place named
Sychem. Ere long, owing to the want of corn, he went into Egypt, and again returned. Lot,
owing to the size of the household, parted from his uncle, that he might take advantage of
more spacious territories in what was then a vacant region, and settled at Sodom. That
town was infamous on account of its inhabitants, males forcing themselves upon males, and
it is said on that account to have been hateful to God. At that period the kings of the
neighboring peoples were in arms, though previously there had been no war among man- kind.
But the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and of the adjacent territories went forth to battle
against those who were making war upon the regions round about, and being routed at the
first onset, yielded the victory to the opposite side. Then Sodom was plundered and made a
spoil of by the victorious enemy, while Lot was led into captivity. When Abraham heard of
this, he speedily armed his servants, to the number of three hundred and eighteen, and,
stripping of their spoils and arms the kings flushed with victory, he put them to flight.
Then he was blessed by Melchisedech the priest, and gave him tithes of the spoil. He
restored the remainder to those from whom it had been taken.

CHAPTER VI.

1 AT the same time God spoke to Abraham, and promised that his seed was to be multiplied
as the sand of the sea; and that his predicted seed would live in a land not his own,
while his posterity would endure slavery in a hostile country for four hundred years, but
would afterwards be restored to liberty. Then his name was changed, as well as that of his
wife, by the addition of one letter; so that instead of Abram he was called Abraham, and,
instead of Sara, she was called Sarra. The mystery involved in this is by no means
trifling, but it is not the part of this work to treat of it. At the same time, the law of
circumcision was enjoined on Abraham, and he had by a maid-servant a son called Ishmael.
Moreover, when he himself was a hundred years old, and his wife ninety, God promised that
they should have a son Isaac, the Lord having come to him along with two angels. Then the
angels being sent to Sodom, found Lot sitting in the gate of the city. He supposed them to
be human beings, and welcomed them to share in his hospitality, and provided an
entertainment for them in his house, but the wicked youth of the town demanded the new
arrivals for impure purposes. Lot offered them his daughters in place of his guests, but
they did not accept the offer, having a desire rather for things forbidden, and then Lot
himself was laid hold of with vile designs.

2 The angels, however, speedily rescued him from danger, by causing blindness to fall upon
the eyes of these unchaste sinners. Then Lot, being informed by his guests that the town
was to be destroyed, went away from it with his wife and daughters; but they were
commanded not to look back upon it. His wife, however, not obeying this precept (in
accordance with that evil tendency of human nature which renders it difficult to abstain
from things forbidden), turned back her eyes, and is said to have been at once changed
into a monument. As for Sodom, it was burned to ashes by fire from heaven. And the
daughters of Lot, imagining that the whole human race had perished, sought a union with
their father while he was intoxicated, and hence sprung the race of Moab and Ammon.

CHAPTER VII.

1 Almost at the same time, when Abraham was now a hundred years old, his son Isaac was
born. Then Sara expelled the maid-servant by whom Abraham had had a son; and she is said
to have dwelt in the desert along with her son, and defended by the help of God. Not long
after this, God tried the faith of Abraham, and required that his son Isaac should be
sacrificed to him by his father. Abraham did not hesitate to offer him, and had already
laid the lad upon the altar, and was drawing the sword to slay him, when a voice came from
heaven commanding him to spare the young man; and a ram was found at hand to be for a
victim. When the sacrifice was offered, God spoke to Abraham, and promised him those
things which he had already said he would bestow. But Sara died in her one hundred and
twenty-seventh year, and her body was, through the care of her husband, buried in Hebron,
a town of the Canaanites, for Abraham was staying in that place. Then Abraham, seeing that
his son Isaac was now of youthful age, for he was, in fact, in his fortieth year, enjoined
his servant to seek a wife for him, but only from that tribe and territory from which he
himself was known to be descended.

2 He was instructed, however, on finding the girl, to bring her into the land of the
Canaanites, and not to suppose that Isaac would return into the country of his father for
the purpose of obtaining a wife. In order that the servant might carry out those
instructions zealously, Abraham administered an oath to him, while his hand rested on the
thigh of his master. The servant accordingly set out for Mesopotamia, and came to the town
of Nachor, the brother of Abraham. He entered into the house of Bathuel, the Syrian, son
of Nachor; and having seen Rebecca, a beautiful virgin, the daughter of Nachor, he asked
for her, and brought her to his master. After this, Abraham took a wife named Kethurah,
who is called in the Chronicles his concubine, and begat children by her. But he left his
possessions to Isaac, the son of Sara, while, at the same time, he distributed gifts to
those whom he had begotten by his concubines; and thus they we're separated from Isaac.
Abraham died after a life of a hundred and seventy-five years; and his body was laid in
the tomb of Sara his wife.

CHAPTER VIII.

1 Now, Rebecca, having long been barren, at length, through the unceasing prayers of her
husband to the Lord, brought forth twins about twenty years after the time of her
marriage. These are said to have often leaped in the womb of their mother; and it was
announced by the answer of the Lord on this subject, that two peoples were foretold in
these children, and that the eider would, in rank, be inferior to the younger. Well, the
first that was born, bristling over with hair, was called Esau, while Jacob was the name
given to the younger. At that time, a grievous famine had taken place. Under the pressure
of this necessity, Isaac went to Gerar, to King Abimelech, having been warned by the Lord
not to go down into Egypt. There he is promised the possession of the whole land, and is
blessed, and having been greatly increased in cattle and every kind of substance, he is,
under the influence of envy, driven out by the inhabitants. Thus expelled from that
region, he sojourned by the well, known as "the well of the oath. By and by, being
advanced in years, and his eyesight being gone, as he made ready to bless his son Esau,
Jacob through the counsel of his mother, Rebecca, presented himself to be blessed in the
place of his brother. Thus Jacob is set before his brother as the one to be honored by the
princes and the peoples. Esau, enraged by these occurrences, plotted the death of his
brother.

2 Jacob, owing to the fear thus excited, and by the advice of his mother, fled into
Mesopotamia, having been urged by his father to take a wife of the house of Laban,
Rebecca's brother: so great was their care, while they dwelt in a strange country, that
their children should marry within their own kindred. Thus Jacob, setting out for
Mesopotamia, is said in sleep to have had a vision of the Lord; and on that account
regarding the place of his dream as sacred, he took a stone from it; and he vowed that, if
he returned in prosperity, the name of the pillar should be the "house of the Lord," and
that he would devote to God the tithes of all the possessions he had gained. Then he
betook himself to Laban, his mother's brother, and was kindly received by him to share in
his hospitality as the acknowledged son of his sister.

CHAPTER IX.

1 Laban had two daughters, Leah and Rachel; but Leah had tender eyes, while Rachel is said
to have been beautiful. Jacob, captivated by her beauty, burned with love for the virgin,
and, asking her in marriage from the father, gave himself up to a servitude of seven
years. But when the time was fulfilled, Leah was foisted upon him, and he was subjected to
another servitude of seven years, after which Rachel was given him. But we are told that
she was long barren, while Leah was fruitful. Of the sons whom Jacob had by Leah, the
following are the names: Reuben, Symeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulon, and a daughter
Dinah; while there were born to him by the handmaid of Leah, Gad and Asher, and by the
hand maid of Rachel, Dan and Naphtali. But Rachel, after she had despaired of offspring,
bare Joseph. Then Jacob, being desirous of returning to his father, when Laban his father-
in-law had given him a portion of the flock as a reward for his service, and Jacob the
son-in-law, thinking him not to be acting justly in that matter, while he [also] suspected
deceit on his part, privately departed about the thirtieth year after his arrival. Rachel,
without the knowledge of her husband, stole the idols of her father, and on account of
this injury Laban followed his son-in-law, but not finding his idols, returned, after
being reconciled, having straitly charged his son-in-law not to take other wives in
addition to his daughters.

2 Then Jacob, going on his way, is said to have had a vision of angels and of the army of
the Lord. But, as he directed his journey past the region of Edom, which his brother Esau
inhabited, suspecting the temper of Esau, be first sent messengers and gifts to try him.
Then he went to meet his brother, but Jacob took care not to trust him beyond what he
could help. On the day before the brothers were to meet, God, taking a human form, is said
to have wrestled with Jacob. And when he had prevailed with God, still he was not ignorant
that his adversary was no mere mortal; and therefore begged to be blessed by him. Then his
name was changed by God, so that from Jacob he was called Israel. But when he, in turn,
inquired of God the name of God, he was told that that should not be asked after because
it was wonderful. Moreover, from that wrestling, the breadth of Jacob's thigh shrank.

CHAPTER X.

1 Israel, therefore, avoiding the house of his brother, sent forward his company to Salem,
a town of the Shechemites, and there he pitched his tent on a spot which he had purchased.
Emor, a Chorraean prince, was the ruler of that town. His son Sychem defiled Dinah, the
daughter of Jacob by Leah. Symeon and Levi, the brothers of Dinah, discovering this, cut
off by a stratagem all those of the mate sex in the town, and thus terribly avenged the
injury done to their sister. The town was plundered by the sons of Jacob, and all the
spoil carried off. Jacob is said to have been much displeased with these proceedings. Soon
after being instructed by God, he went to Bethel, and there erected an altar to God. Then
he fixed his tent in a part of the territory belonging to the tower Gader. Rachel died in
childbirth: the boy she bore was called Benjamin. lsrael died at the age of one hundred
and eighty years. Now, Esau was mighty in wealth, and had taken to himself wives of the
nation of the Canaanites. I do not think that, in a work so concise as the present, I am
called upon to mention his descendants, and, if any one is curious on the subject, he may
turn to the original. After the death of his father, Jacob stayed on in the place where
Isaac had lived.

2 His other sons occasionally left him along with the flocks, for the sake of pasturage,
but Joseph and the little Benjamin remained at home. Joseph was much beloved by his
father, and on that account was hated by his brethren. There was this further cause for
their aversion, that by frequent dreams of his it seemed to be indicated that he would be
greater than all of them. Accordingly, having been sent by his father to inspect the
flocks and pay a visit to his brothers, there seemed to them a fitting opportunity for
doing him harm. For, on seeing their brother, they took counsel to slay him. But Reuben,
whose mind shuddered at the contemplation of such a crime, opposing their plan, Joseph was
let down into a well? Afterwards, by the persuasions of Judah, they were brought to milder
measures, and sold him to merchants, who were on their way to Egypt. And by them he was
delivered to Petifra, a governor of Pharaoh.

CHAPTER XI.

1 About this same time, Judah, the son of Jacob, took in marriage Sava, a woman of Canaan.
By her he had three sons,-Her, Onan, and Sela. Her was allied by concubinage to Thamar. On
his death, Onan took his brother's wife; and he is related to have been destroyed by God,
because he spilled his seed upon the earth. Then Thamar, assuming the garb of a harlot,
united with her brother-in-law, and bore him two sons. But when she brought them forth,
there was this remarkable fact, that, when on one of the boys being born, the midwife had
bound his hand with a scarlet thread to indicate which of them was born first, he, drawing
back again into the womb of his mother, was born the last boy of the two. The names of
Fares and Zarah were given to the children. But Joseph, being kindly treated by the royal
governor who had obtained him for a sam of money, and having been made manager of his
house and family, had drawn the eyes of his master's wife upon himself through his
remarkable beauty. And as she was madly laboring under that base passion, she made
advances to him oftener than once, and when he would not yield to her desires, she
disgraced him by the imputation of a false crime, and complained to her husband that he
had made an attempt upon her virtue. Accordingly, Joseph was thrown into prison.

2 There were in the same place of confinement two of the king's servants, who made known
their dreams to Joseph, and he, interpreting these as bearing upon the future, declared
that one of them would be put to death, and the other would be pardoned. And so it came to
pass. Well, after the lapse of two years, the king also had a dream. And when this could
not be explained by the wise men among the Egyptians, that servant of the king who was
liberated from prison informs the king that Joseph was a wonderful interpreter of dreams.
Accordingly, Joseph was brought out of prison, and interpreted to the king his dream, to
this effect, that, for the next seven years, there would be the greatest fertility in the
land; but in those that followed, famine. The king being alarmed by this terror, and
seeing that there was a divine spirit in Joseph, set him over the department of food-
supply, and made him equal with himself in the government. Then Joseph, while corn was
abundant throughout all Egypt, gathered together an immense quantity, and, by increasing
the number of granaries, took measures against the future famine. At that time, the hope
and safety of Egypt were placed in him alone. About the same period, Aseneh bore him two
sons, Manasseh and Ephraim. He himself, when he received the chief power from the king,
was thirty years old; for he was sold by his brothers when he was seventeen years of age.

CHAPTER XII.

1 IN the mean time, affairs having been well settled in Egypt to meet the famine, a
grievous want of corn began to distress the world. Jacob, constrained by this necessity,
sent his sons into Egypt, keeping only Benjamin with himself at home. Joseph, then, being
at the head of affairs, and having complete power over the corn-supplies, his brothers
come to him, and pay the same honor to him as to a king. He, when he saw them, craftily
concealed his recognition of them, and accused them of havingcome as enemies, subtly to
spy out the land. But he was annoyed that he did not see among them his brother Benjamin.
Matters, then, are brought to this point, that they promised he should be present,
specially that he might be asked whether they had entered Egypt for the purpose of spying
out the land. In order to secure the fulfillment of this promise, Symeon was retained as
hostage, while to them corn was given freely. Accordingly, they returned, bringing
Benjamin with them as had been arranged. Then Joseph made himself known to his brothers to
the shame of these evil-deservers. Thus, he sent them home again, laden with corn, and
presented with many gifts, forewarning them that there were still five years of famine to
come, and advising them to come down with their father, their children, and their whole
connections to Egypt. So Jacob went down to Egypt, to the great joy of the Egyptians and
of the king himself, while he was tenderly welcomed by his son.

2 That took place in the hundred and thirtieth year of the life of Jacob, and one thousand
three hundred and sixty years after; the deluge. But from the time when Abraham settled in
the land of the Canaanites, to thatwhen Jacob entered Egypt, there are to be reckoned two
hundred and fifteen years. After this, Jacob, in the seventeenth year of his residence in
Egypt, suffering severely from illness, entreated Joseph to see his remains placed in the
tomb. Then Joseph presented his sons to be blessed; and when this had been done, but so
that he set the younger before the elder as to the value of the blessing given, Jacob then
blessed all his sons in order. He died at the age of one hundred and forty-seven years.
His funeral was of a most imposing character, and Joseph laid his remains in the tomb of
his fathers. He continued to treat his brothers with kindness, although, after the death
of their father, they felt alarmed from a consciousness of the wrong they had done. Joseph
himself died in his one hundred and tenth year.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 It is almost incredible to relate how the Hebrews who had come down into Egypt so soon
increased in numbers, and filled Egypt with their numerous descendants. But on the death
of the king, who kindly cherished them on account of the services of Joseph, they were
kept down by the government of the succeeding kings. For both the heavy labor of building
cities was laid upon them, and because their abounding numbers were now feared, lest some
day they should secure their independence by arms, they were compelled by a royal edict to
drown their newly-born male children. And no permission was granted to evade this cruel
order. Well, at that time, the daughter of Pharaoh found an infant in the river, and
caused it to be brought up as her own son, giving the boy the name of Moses. This Moses,
when he had come to manhood, saw a Hebrew being assaulted by an Egyptian; and, filled with
sorrow at the sight, he delivered his brother from injury, andkilled the Egyptian with a
stone. Soon after, fearing punishment on account of what he had done, he fled into the
land of Midian, and, taking up his abode with Jothor the priest of that district, he
received his daughter Sepphora in marriage, who bore him two sons, Gersam and Eliezer. At
this epoch lived Job, who had acquired both the knowledge of God and all righteousness
simply from the law of nature.

2 He was exceedingly rich, and on that account all the more illustrious, because he was
neither corrupted by that wealth while it remained entire, nor perverted by it when it was
lost. For, when, through the agency of the devil, he was stripped of his goods, deprived
of his children, and finally covered in his own person with terrible boils, he could not
be broken down, so as, from impatience of his sufferings, in any way, to commit sin. At
length he obtained the reward of the divine approval, and being restored to health, he got
back doubled all that he had lost.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 But the Hebrews, oppressed by the multiplied evils of slavery, directed their complaints
to heaven, and cherished the hope of assistance from God. Then, as Moses was feeding his
sheep, suddenly a bush appeared to him burning, but, what was surprising, the flames did
it no harm. Astonished at such an extraordinary sight, he drew nearer to the bush, and
immedi- ately God spoke to him in words to this effect, that he was the Lord of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, and that he desired that their descendants, who were kept down under the
tyranny of the Egyptians, should be delivered from their sufferings, and that he,
therefore, should go to the king of Egypt, and present himself as a leader for restoring
them to liberty. When he hesitated, God strengthened him with power, and imparted to him
the gift of working miracles. Thus Moses, going into Egypt, after he had first performed
miracles in the presence of his own people, and having associated his brother Aaron with
him, went to the king, declaring that he had been sent by God, and that he now told him in
the words of God to let the Hebrew people go. But the king, affirming that he did not know
the Lord, refused to obey the command addressed to him.

2 And when Moses, in proof that the orders he issued were from God, changed his rod into a
serpent, and soon after convened all the water into blood, while he filled the whole land
with frogs, as the Chaldaeans were doing similar things, the king declared that the
wonders performed by Moses were simply due to the arts of magic, and not to the power of
God, until the land was covered with stinging insects brought over it, when the Chaldaeans
confessed that this was done by the divine majesty. Then the king, constrained by his
sufferings, called to him Moses and Aaron, and gave the people liberty to depart, provided
that the calamity brought upon the kingdom were removed. But, after the suffering was put
an end to, his mind, having no control over itself returned to its former state, and did
not allow the Israelites to depart, as had been agreed upon. Finally, however, he was
broken down and conquered by the ten plagues which were sent upon his person and his
kingdom.

CHAPTER XV.

1 But on the day before the people went out of Egypt, being as yet unacquainted with
dates, they were instructed by the command of God to acknowledge that month which was then
passing by as the first of all months; and were told that the sacrifice of the day was to
be solemnly and regularly offered in coming ages, so that, on the fourteenth day of the
month, a lamb without blemish, one year old, should be slain as a victim, and that the
door-posts should be sprinkled with its blood; that its flesh was wholly to be eaten, but
not a bone of it was to be broken; that they should abstain from what was leavened for
seven days, using only unleavened bread; and that they should hand down the observance to
their posterity. Thus the people went forth rich, both by their own wealth, and still more
by the spoils of Egypt. Their number had grown from those seventy-five Hebrews, who had
first gone down into Egypt, to six hundred thousand men. Now, there had elapsed from the
time when Abraham first reached the land of the Canaanites a period of four hundred and
thirty years, but from the deluge a period of five hundred and seventy-five years. Well,
as they went forth in haste, a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night,
marched before them.

2 But since, owing to the fact that the gulf of the Red Sea lay between, the way led by
the land of the Philistines, in order that an opportunity might not afterwards be offered
to the Hebrews, shrinking from the desert, of returning into Egypt by a well-known road
through a continuous land-journey, by the command of God they turned aside, and journeyed
towards the Red Sea, where they stopped and pitched their camp. When it was announced to
the king that the Hebrew people, through mistaking the road, had come to have the sea
right before them, and that they had no means of escape since the deep would prevent them,
vexed and furious that so many thousand men should escape from his kingdom and power, he
hastily led forth his army. And already the arms, and standards, and the lines drawn up in
the widespreading plains were visible, when, as the Hebrews were in a state of terror, and
gazing up to heaven, Moses being so instructed by God, struck the sea with his rod, and
divided it. Thus a road was opened to the people as on firm land, the waters giving way on
both sides. Nor did the king of Egypt hesitate to follow the Israelites going forward, for
he entered the sea where it had opened; and, as the waters speedily came together gain,
he, with all his host, was destroyed.

CHAPTER XVI.

1 Then Moses, exulting in the safety of his own people, and in the destruction of the
enemy, by such a miracle, sang a song of praise to God, and the whole multitude, both of
males and females, took part in it. But, after they had entered the desert, and advanced a
journey of three days, want of water distressed them; and, when it was found, it proved of
no use on account of its bitterness. And then for the first time the stubbornness of the
impatient people showed itself, and burst forth against Moses; when, as instructed by God,
he cast some wood into the waters, and its power was such that it rendered the taste of
the fluid sweet. Thence advancing, the multitude found at Elim twelve fountains of waters,
with seventy palm-trees, and there they encamped. Again the people, complaining of famine,
heaped reproaches upon Moses, and longed for the slavery of Egypt,accompanied as it was
with abundance to please their appetite, when a flock of quails was divinely sent, and
filled the camp. Besides, on the following day, those who had gone forth from the camp
perceived that the ground was covered with a sort of pods, the appearance of which was
like a coriander-seed of snowy whiteness, as we often see the earth in the winter months
covered with the hoar-frost that has been spread over it. Then the people were informed,
through Moses, that this bread had been sent them by the gift of God;

2 that every one should gather in vessels prepared for the purpose only so much of it as
would be sufficient for each, according to their number, during one day; but that on the
sixth day they should gather double, because it was not lawful to collect it on the
Sabbath. The people, however, as they were never prone to obedience, did not, in
accordance with human nature, restrain their desires, providing in their stores not merely
for one, but also for the following day. But that which was thus laid up swarmed with
worms, while its fetid odor was dreadful, yet that which was laid up on the sixth day with
a view to the, Sabbath remained quite untainted. The Hebrews made use of this food for
forty years; its taste was very like that of honey; and its name is handed down as being
manna. Moreover, as an abiding witness to the divine gift, Moses is related to have laid
up a full gomer of it in a golden vessel.

CHAPTER XVII.

1 The people going on from thence, and being again tried with want of water, hardly
restrained themselves from destroying their leader. Then Moses, under divine orders,
striking with his rod the rock at the place which is called Horeb, brought forth an
abundant supply of water. But when they came to Raphidin, the Amalekites destroyed numbers
of the people by their attacks. Moses, leading out his men to battle, placed Joshua at the
head of the army; and, in company with Aaron and Hur, was himself simply to be a spectator
of the fight, while, at the same time, for the purpose of praying to the Lord, he went up
to the top of a mountain. But when the armies had met with doubtful issue, through the
prayers of Moses, Joshua slew the enemy until nightfall. At the same time, Jothor, Moses'
father-in-law, with his daughter Sepphora (who, having been married to Moses, had remained
at home when her husband went into Egypt), and his children, having learned the things
which were being done by Moses, came to him. By his advice Moses divided the people into
various ranks; and, setting tribunes, centurions, and decurions over them, thus furnished
a mode of discipline and order to posterity. Jothor then returned to his own country,
while the Israelites came on to Mount Sinai. There Moses was admonished by the Lord that
the people should be sanctified, since they were to hearken to the words of God; and that
was carefully seen to.

2 But when God rested on the mountain, the air was shaken with the loud sounds of
trumpets, and thick clouds rolled around with frequent flashes of lightning. But Moses and
Aaron were on the top of the mountain beside the Lord, while the people stood around the
bottom of the mountain. Thus a law was given, manifold and full of the words of God, and
frequently repeated; but if any one is desirous of knowing particulars regarding it, he
must consult the original, as we here only briefly touch upon it. "There shall not be,"
said God, "any strange gods among you, but ye shall worship me alone; thou shall not make
to time any idol; thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain; thou shall do no work
upon the Sabbath; honor thy father and thy mother; thou shall not kill; thou shalt not
commit adultery; thou shall not steal; thou shalt not bear false witness againstthy
neighbor; thou shalt not covet anythingbelonging to thy neighbor."

CHAPTER XVIII.

1 These things being said by God, while the trumpets uttered their voices, the lamps
blazed, and smoke covered the mountain, the people trembled from terror; and begged of
Moses · that God should speak to him alone, and that he would report to the people what he
thus heard. Now, the commandments of God to Moses were as follows: A Hebrew servant
purchased with money shall serve six years, and after that he shall be free; but his ear
shall be bored, should he willingly remain in slavery. Whosoever slays a man shall be put
to death; he who does so unwittingly shall in due form be banished. Whosoever shall beat
his father or his mother, and utter evil sayings against them, shall suffer death. If any
one sell a Hebrew who has been stolen, he shall be put to death. If any one strike his own
man-servant or maidservant, and he or she die of the blow, he shall be put on his trial
for doing so. If any one cause a woman to miscarry, he shall be put to death. If any one
knock out the eye or the tooth of his servant, that servant shah receive his liberty in
due form. If a bull kill a man, it shall be stoned; and if its master, knowing the vicious
temper of the animal, did not take precautions in connection with it, he also shall be
stoned, or shall redeem himself by a price as large as the accuser shall demand.

2 If a bull kill a servant, money to the amount of thirty double-drachmas shall be paid to
his master. If any one does not cover up a pit which has been dug, and an animal fall into
that pit, he shall pay the price of the animal to its master. If a bull kill the bull of
another man, the animal shall be sold, and the two masters shall share the price; they
shall also divide the animal that has been killed. But if a master, knowing the vicious
temper of the bull, did not take precautions in connection with it, he shall give up the
bull. If any one steals a calf, he shall restore five; if he steals a sheep, the penalty
shall be fourfold; and if the animals be found alive in the hands of him who drove them
off, he shall restore double. It shall be lawful to kill a thief by night, but not one by
day. If the cattle of any one has eaten up the corn of another, the master of the cattle
shall restore what has been destroyed. If a deposit disappears, he, in whose hands it was
deposited, shall swear that he has not been guilty of any deceit. A thief who is caught
shall pay double. An animal given in trust, if devoured by a wild beast, shall not be made
good. If any one defile a virgin not yet betrothed, he shall bestow a dowry on the girl,
and thus take her to wife;

3 but, if the father of the girl shall refuse to give her in marriage, then the ravisher
shall give her a dowry. If any one shall join himself to a beast, he shall be put to
death. Let him who sacrifices to idols perish. The widow and orphan are not to be
oppressed; the poor debtor is not to be hardly treated, nor is usury to be demanded: the
garment of the poor is not to be taken as a pledge. A ruler of the people is not to be
evil spoken of. All the first-born are to be offered to God. Flesh taken from a wild beast
is not to be eaten. Agreements to bear false witness, or for any evil purpose, are not to
be made. Thou shalt not pass by any animal of thine enemy which has strayed, but shalt
bring it back. If you find an animal of your enemy fallen down under a burden, it will be
your duty to raise it up. Thou shall not slay the innocent and the righteous. Thou shall
not justify the wicked for rewards. Gifts are not to be accepted. A stranger is to be
kindly treated. Work is to be done on six days: rest is to be taken on the Sabbath. The
crops of the seventh year are not to be reaped, but are to be left for the poor and needy.

CHAPTER XIX.

1 Moses reported these words of God to the people, and placed an altar of twelve stones at
the foot of the mountain. Then he again ascended the mountain on which the Lord had taken
his place, bringing with him Aaron, Nabad, and seventy of the elders. But these were not
able to look upon the Lord; nevertheless, they saw the place in which God stood, whose
form is related to have been wonderful, and his splendor glorious. Now, Moses, having been
called by God, entered the inner cloud which had gathered round about God, and is related
to have remained there forty days and forty nights: During this time, he was taught in the
words of God about building the tabernacle and the ark, and about the ritual of sacrifice-
things which I, as they were obviously told at great length, have not thought proper to be
inserted in such a concise work as the present. But as Moses stayed away a long time,
since he spent forty days in the presence of the Lord, the people, despairing of his
return, compelled Aaron to construct images. Then, out of metals which had been melted
together, there came forth the head of a calf. The people, unmindful of God, having
offered sacrifices to this, and given themselves up to eating and drinking, God, looking
upon these things, would in his righteous indignation, have destroyed the wicked people,
had he not been entreated by Moses' not to do so.

2 But Moses, on his return, bringing down the two tables of stone which had been written
by the hand of God, and seeing the people devoted to luxury and sacrilege, broke the
tables, thinking the nation unworthy of having the law of the Lord delivered to them. He
then called around himself the Levites, who had been assailed with many insults, and
commanded them to smite the people with drawn swords. In this onset twenty-three thousand
men are said to have been slain. Then Moses set up the tabernacle outside the camp; and,
as often as he entered it, the pillar of cloud was observed to stand before the door; and
God spoke, face to face, with Moses. But when Moses entreated that he might see the Lord
in his peculiar majesty, he was answered that the form of God could not be seen by mortal
eyes; yet it was allowed to see his back parts; and the tables which Moses had formerly
broken were constructed afresh. And Moses is reported, during this conference with God, to
have stayed forty days with the Lord. Moreover, when he descended from the mountain,
bringing with him the tables, his face shone with so great brightness, that the people
were not able to look upon him. It was arranged, therefore, that when he was to make known
to them the commands of God, he covered his face with a veil, and thus spoke to the people
in the words of God.

3 In this part of the history an account is given of the tabernacle, and the building of
its tuner parts. Which having been finished, the cloud descended from above, and so
overshadowed the tabernacle that it prevented Moses himself from entering. These are the
principal matters contained in the two books of Genesis and Exodus.

CHAPTER XX.

1 Then follows the book of Leviticus, in which the precepts bearing upon sacrifice are set
forth; commandments also are added to the law formerly given; and almost the whole is full
ofinstructions connected with the priests. If any one wishes to become acquainted with
these, he will obtain fuller information from that source. For we, keeping within the
limits of the work undertaken, touch upon the history only. The tribe of Levi, then, being
set apart for the priesthood, the rest of the tribes were numbered, and were found to
amount to six hundred and three thousand five hundred persons. When, therefore, the people
made use of the manna for food, as we have related above, even amid so many and so great
kindnesses of God, showing themselves, as ever, ungrateful, they longed after the
worthless viands to which they had been accustomed in Egypt. Then the Lord brought an
enormous supply of quails into the camp; and as they were eagerly tearing these to pieces,
as soon as their lips touched the flesh, they perished. There was indeed on that day a
great destruction in the camp, so that twenty and three thousand men are said to have
died. Thus the people were punished by the very food which they desired. Thence the
company went forward, and came to Faran; and Moses was instructed by the Lord that the
land was now near, the possession of which the Lord had promised them.

2 Spies, accordingly, having been sent into it, they report that it was a land blessed
with all abundance, but that the nations were powerful, and the towns fortified with
immense walls. When this was made known to the people, fear seized the minds of all; and
to such a pitch of wickedness did they come, that, despisingthe authority of Moses, they
prepared to appoint for themselves a leader, under whose guidance they might return to
Egypt. Then Joshua and Caleb, who had been of the number of the spies, rent their garments
with tears, and implored the people not to believe the spies relating such terrors; for
that they themselves had been with them, and had found nothing dreadful in that country;
and that it behooved them to trust the promises of God, that these enemies would rather
become their prey than prove their destruction. But that stiff-necked race, setting
themselves against every good advice, rushed upon them to destroy them. And the Lord,
angry on account of these things, exposed a part of the people to be slain by the enemy,
while the spies were slain for having excited fear among the people.

CHAPTER XXI.

1 There followed the revolt of those, who, with Dathan and Abiron as leaders, endeavored
to set themselves up against Moses and Aaron; but the earth, opening, swallowed them
alive. And not long after, a revolt of the whole people arose against Moses and Aaron, so
that they rushed into the tabernacle, which it was not lawful for any but the priests to
enter. Then truly death mowed them down in heaps; and all would have perished in a moment,
had not the Lord, appeased by the prayers of Moses, turned aside the disaster.
Nevertheless, the number of those slain amounted to seven hundred and fourteen thousand.
And not long after, as had already often happened, a revolt of the people arose on account
of the want of water. Then Moses, instructed by God to strike the rock with his rod, with
a kind of trial new familiar to him, since he had already done that before, struck the
rock once and again, and thus water flowed out of it. In regard, however, to this point,
Moses is said to have been reproved by God, that, through want of faith, he did not bring
out the water except by repeated blows; in fact, on account of this transgression, he did
not enter the land promised to him, as I shall show farther on. Moses, then, moving
awayfrom that place, as he was preparing to lead his company along by the borders of Edom,
sent ambassadors to the king to beg liberty to pass by;

2 for he thought it right to abstain from war on account of the connection by blood; for
that nation was descended from Esau. But the king despised the suppliants, and refused
them liberty to pass by, being ready to contend in arms. Then Moses directed his march
towards the mountain, Or, keeping clear of the forbidden road, that he might not furnish
any cause of war between those related by blood, and on that route he destroyed the king
of the nation of the Canaanites. He smote also Seon the king of the Amorites, and
possessed himself of all their towns: he conquered, too, Basan and Balac. He pitched his
camp beyond Jordan, not far from Jericho. Then a battle took place against the Midianites,
and they were conquered and subdued. Moses died, after he had ruled the people forty years
in the wilderness. But the Hebrews are said to have remained in the wilderness for so long
a time, with this view, until all those who had not believed the words of God perished.
For, except Joshua and Caleb, not one of those who were more than twenty years old on
leaving Egypt passed over Jordan. That Moses himself only saw the promised land, and did
not reach it, is ascribed to his sin, because, at that time when he was ordered to strike
the rock, and bring forth water, he doubted, even after so many proofs of his miraculous
power. He died in the one hundred and twentieth year of his age.

3 Nothing is known concerning the place of his burial.

CHAPTER XXII.

1 After the death of Moses, the chief power passed into the hands of Joshua the son of
Nun, for Moses had appointed him his successor, being a man very like himself in the good
qualities which be displayed. Now, at the commencement of his rule, he sent messengers
through the camp to instruct the people to make ready supplies of corn, and announces that
they should march on the third day. But-the river Jordan, a very powerful stream, hindered
their crossing, because they did not have a supply of vessels for the occasion, and the
stream could not be crossed by fords, as it was then rushing on in full flood. He,
therefore, orders the ark to be carried forward by the priests, and that they should take
their stand against the current of the river. On this being done, Jordan is said to have
been divided, and thus the army was led over on dry ground. There was in these places a
town called Jericho, fortified with very strong walls, and not easy to be taken, either by
storm or blockade. But Joshua, putting his trust in God, did not attack the city either by
arms or force; he simply ordered the ark of God to be carried round the walls, while the
priests walked before the ark, and sounded trumpets. But when the ark had been carried
round seven times, the walls and the towers fell; and the city was plundered and burnt.

2 Then Joshua is said to have addressed the Lord, and to have called down a curse upon any
one who should attempt to restore the town which had thus by divine help been demolished.
Next, the army was led against Geth, and an ambuscade having been placed behind the city,
Joshua, pretending fear, fled before the enemy. On seeing this, those who were in the
town, opening the gates, began to press upon the enemy giving way. Thus, the men who were
in ambush took the city, and all the inhabitants were slain, without one escaping: the
king also was taken, and suffered capital punishment.

CHAPTER XXIII.

1 When this became known to the kings of the neighboring nations, they made a warlike
alliance to put down the Hebrews by arms. But the Gibeonites, a powerful nation with a
wealthy city, spontaneously yielded to the Hebrews, promising to do what they were
ordered, and were received under protection, while they were told to bring in wood and
water. But their surrender had roused the resentment of the kings of the nearest cities.
Accordingly, moving up their troops, they surround with a blockade their town, which was
called Gabaoth. The townspeople, therefore, in their distress, send messengers to Joshua,
that he would help them in their state of siege. Accordingly, he by a forced march came
upon the enemy at unawares, and many thousands of them were completely destroyed. When day
failed the victors, and it seemed that night would furnish protection to the vanquished,
the Hebrew general, through the power of his faith, kept off the night, and the day
continued, so that there was no means of escape for the enemy. Five kings who were taken
suffered death. By the same attack, neighboring cities also were brought under the power
of Joshua, and their kings were cut off. But as it was not my design, studious as I am of
brevity, to follow out all these things in order, I only carefully observe this, that
twenty-nine kingdoms were brought under the yoke of the Hebrews, and that their territory
was distributed among eleven tribes, to man after man.

2 For to the Levites, who had been set apart for the priesthood, no portion was given, in
order that they might the more freely serve God. I desire not, in silence, to pass over
the example thus set, but I would earnestly bring it forward as well worthy of being read
by the ministers of the Church. For these seem to me not only unmindful of this precept,
but even utterly ignorant of it-such a lust for possessing has, in this age, seized, like
an incurable disease, upon their minds. They gape upon possessions; they cultivate
estates; they repose upon gold; they buy and sell; they study gain by every possible
means. And even, if any of them seem to have a better aim in life, neither possessing nor
trading, still (what is much more disgraceful) remaining inactive, they look for gifts,
and have corrupted the whole glory of life by their mercenary dispositions, while they
present an appearance of sanctity, as if even that might be made a source of gain. But I
have gone farther than I intended in expressing my loathing and disgust over the character
of our times; and I hasten to return to the subject in hand. The vanquished territory,
then, as I have already said, having been divided among the tribes, the Hebrews enjoyed
profound peace; their neighbors, being terrified by war, did not venture to attempt
hostilities against those distinguished by so many victories. At the same period died
Joshua in the hundred and tenth year of his age.

3 I do not express any definite opinion as to the length of time he ruled: the prevalent
view, however, is, that he was at the head of the Hebrew affairs during twenty-seven
years. If this were so, then three thousand eight hundred and eighty-four years had
elapsed from the beginning of the world to his death.

CHAPTER XXIV.

1 After the death of Joshua, the people acted without a leader. But a necessity of making
war with the Canaanites having arisen, Judah was appointed as general in the war. Under
his guidance, matters were successfully conducted: there was the greatest tranquillity
both at home and abroad: the people ruled over the nations which had either been subdued
or received under terms of surrender. Then, as almost always happens in a time of
prosperity, becoming unmindful of morals and discipline, they began to contract marriages
from among the conquered, and by and by to adopt foreign customs, yea, even in a
sacrilegious manner to offer sacrifice to idols: so pernicious is all alliance with
foreigners. God, foreseeing these things long before, had, by a wholesome precept enjoined
upon the Hebrews to give over the conquered nations to utter destruction. But the people,
through lust for power, preferred (to their own ruin) to rule over those who were
conquered. Accordingly, when, forsaking God, they worshiped idols, they were deprived of
the divine assistance, and, being vanquished and subdued by the king of Mesopotamia, they
paid the penalty of eight years' captivity, until, with Gothoniel as their leader, they
were restored to liberty, and enjoyed independence for fifty years. Then again, corrupted
by the evil effect of a lengthened peace, they began to sacrifice to idols. And speedily
did retribution fall upon them thus sinning.

2 Conquered by Eglon, king of the Moabites, they served him eighteen years, until, by a
divine impulse, Aod slew the enemies' king by a stratagem, and, gathering together a hasty
army, restored them to liberty by force of arms. The same man ruled the Hebrews in peace
for forty years. To him Semigar sucseeded, and he, engaging in battle With the
Philistines, secured a decisive victory. But again, the king of the Canaanites, Jabin by
name, subdued the Hebrews who were once more serving idols, and exercised over them a
grievous tyranny for twenty years, until Deborah, a woman, restored them to their former
condition. They had to such a degree lost confidence in their generals, that they were now
protected by means of a woman. But it is worthy of notice, that this form of deliverance
was arranged beforehand, as a type of the Church, by whose aid captivity to the devil is
escaped. The Hebrews were forty years under this leader or judge. And being again
delivered over to the Midianites for their sins, they were kept under hard rule; and,
being afflicted by the evils of slavery, they implored the divine help. Thus always when
in prosperity they were unmindful of the kindnesses of heaven, and prayed to idols; but in
adversity they cried to God.

3 Wherefore, as often as I reflect that those people who lay under so many obligations to
the goodness ofGod, being chastised with so many disasters when they sinned, and
experiencing both the mercy and the severity of God, yet were by no means rendered better,
and that, though they always obtained pardon for their transgressions, yet they as
constantly sinned again after being pardoned, it can appear nothing wonderful that Christ
when he came was not received by them, since already, from the beginning, they were found
so often rebelling against the Lord. It is, in fact, far more wonderful that the clemency
of God never failed them when they sinned, if only they called upon his name.

CHAPTER XXV.

1 Accordingly, when the Midianites, as we have related above, ruled over them, they turned
to the Lord, imploring his wonted tender mercy, and obtained it. There was then among the
Hebrews one Gideon by name, a righteous man who was dear and acceptable to God. The angel
stood by him as he was returning home from the harvest-field, and said unto him; "The Lord
is with thee, thou mighty man of valor. But he in a humble voice complained that the Lord
was not with him, because captivity pressed sore upon his people, and he remembered with
tears the miracles wrought by the Lord, who had brought them out of the land of Egypt.
Then the angel said, "Go, in this spirit in which you have spoken, and deliver the people
from captivity. But he declared that he could not, with his feeble strength, since he was
a man of very small importance, undertake such a heavy task. The angel, however, persisted
in urging him not to doubt that those things could be done which the Lord said. So then,
having offered sacrifice, and overthrown the altar which the Midianites had consecrated to
the image of Baal, he went to his own people, and pitched his camp near the camp of the
enemy. But the nation of the Amalekites had also joined themselves to the Midianites,
while Gideon had not gathered more than an army of thirty-two thousand men.

2 But before the battle began, God said to him that this was a larger number than he
wished him to lead forth to the conflict; that, if he did make use of so many, the Hebrews
would, in accordance with their usual wickedness ascribe the result of the fight, not to
God, but to their own bravery; he should therefore furnish an opportunity of leaving to
those who desired to do so. When this was made known to the people, twenty and two
thousand left the camp. But of the ten thousand who had remained, Gideon, as instructed by
God, did not retain more than three hundred: the rest he dismissed from the field. Thus,
entering the camp of the enemy in the middle watch of the night, and having ordered all
his men to sound their trumpets, he caused great terror to the enemy; and no one had
courage to resist; but they made off in a disgraceful flight wherever they could. The
Hebrews, however, meeting them in every direction, cut the fugitives to pieces. Gideon
pursued the kings beyond Jordan, and having captured them, gave them over to death. In
that battle, a hundred and twenty thousand of the enemy are said to have been slain, and
fifteen thousand captured. Then, by universal consent, a proposal was made to Gideon that
he should be king of the people. But he rejected this proposal, and preferred rather to
live on equal terms with his fellow-citizens than to be their ruler.

3 Having, therefore, escaped from their captivity, which had pressed upon the people for
seven years, they now enjoyed peace for a period of forty years.

CHAPTER XXVI.

1 But on the death of Gideon, his son Abimelech, whose mother was a concubine, having
slain his brothers with the concurrence of a multitude of wicked men, and especially by
the help of the chief men among the Shechemites, took possession of the kingdom. And he,
being harassed by civil strife, while he pressed hard upon his people by war, attempted to
storm a certain tower, into which they, after losing the town, had betaken themselves by
flight. But, as he approached the place without sufficient caution, he was slain by a
stone which a woman threw, after holding the government for three years. To him succeeded
Thola, who reigned two and twenty years. After him came Jair; and after he had held the
chief place for a like period of twenty-two years, the people, forsaking God, gave
themselves up to idols. On this account, the Israelites were subdued by the Philistines
and Ammonites, and remained under their power for eighteen years. At the end of this
period, they began to call upon God; but the divine answer to them was that they should
rather invoke the aid of their images, for that he would no longer extend his mercy to
those who had been so ungrateful. But they with tears confessed their fault, and implored
forgiveness; while, throwing away their idols, and earnestly calling upon God, they
obtained the divine compassion, though it had been at first refused.

2 Accordingly, under Jephtha as general, they assembled in great numbers for the purpose
of recovering their liberty by arms, having first sent ambassadors to King Ammon, begging
that, content with his own territories, he should keep from warring against them. But he,
far from declining battle, at once drew up his army. Then Jephtha, before the signal for
battle was given, is said to have vowed that, if he obtained the victory, the person who
first met him as he returned home, should be offered to God as a sacrifice. Accordingly,
on the enemy being defeated, as Jephtha was returning home, his daughter met him, having
joyfully gone forth with drums and dances to receive her father as a conqueror. Then
Jephtha, being overwhelmed with sorrow, rent his clothes in his affliction, and made known
to his daughter the stringent obligation of his vow. But she, with a courage not to be
expected from a woman, did not refuse to die; she only begged that her life might be
spared for two months, that she might before dying have the opportunity of seeing the
friends of her own age. This being done, she willingly returned to her father, and
fulfilled the vow to God. Jephtha held the chief power for six years. To him Esebon
succeeded, and having ruled in tranquillity for seven years, then died. After him, Elon
the Zebulonite ruled for ten years, and Abdon also for eight years; but, as their rule was
peaceful, they performed nothing which history might record.

CHAPTER XXVII.

1 The Israelites yet again turned to idols; and, being deprived of the divine protection,
were subdued by the Philistines, and paid the penalty of their unfaithfulness by forty
years of captivity. At that time, Samson is related to have been born. His mother, after
being long barren, had a vision of an angel, and was told to abstain from wine, and strong
drink, and everything unclean; for that she should bear a son who would be the restorer of
liberty to the Israelites, and their avenger upon their enemies. He, with unshorn locks,
is said to have been possessed of marvelous strength, so much so that he tore to pieces
with his hands a lion which met him in the way. He had a wife from the Philistines, and
when she, in the absence of her husband, had entered into marriage with another, he,
through indignation on account of his wife being thus taken from him, wrought destruction
to her nation. Trusting in God and his own strength, he openly brought disaster on those
hitherto victors. For, catching three hundred foxes, he tied burning torches to their
tails, and sent them into the fields of the enemy. It so happened that at the time the
harvest was ripe, and thus the fire easily caught, while the vines and olive-trees were
burnt to ashes. He was thus seen to have avenged the injury done him in taking away his
wife, by a great loss inflicted on the Philistines.

2 And they, enraged at this disaster, destroyed by fire the woman who had been the cause
of so great a calamity, along with her house and her father. But Samson, thinking himself
as yet but poorly avenged, ceased not to harass the heathen race with all sorts of evil
devices. Then the Jews, being compelled to it, handed him over as a prisoner to the
Philistines; but, when thus handed over, he burst his bonds and seizing the jaw-bone of an
ass, which chance offered him as a weapon, he slew a thousand of his enemies. And, as the
heat of the day grew violent, and he began to suffer from thirst, he called upon God, and
water flowed forth from the bone which he held in his hand.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

1 AT that time Samson ruled over the Hebrews, the Philistines having been subdued by the
prowess of a single individual. They, therefore, sought his life by stratagem, not daring
to assail him openly, and with this view they bribe his wife (whom he had received after
what has been stated took place) to betray to them wherein the strength of her husband
lay. She attacked him with female blandishments; and, after he had deceived her, and
staved off her purpose for a long time, she persuaded him to tell that his strength was
situated in his hair. Presently she cut off his hair stealthily while he was asleep, and
thus delivered him up to the Philistines; for although he had often before been given up
to them, they had not been able to hold him fast. Then they, having put out his eyes,
bound him with fetters, and cast him into prison. But, in course of time, his hair which
had been cut off began to grow again, and his strength to return with it. And now Samson,
conscious of his recovered strength, was only waiting for an opportunity of righteous
revenge. The Philistines had a custom on their festival days of producing Samson as if to
make a public spectacle of him, while they mocked their illustrious captive. Accordingly,
on a certain day, when they were making a feast in honor of their idol, they ordered
Samson to be exhibited.

2 Now, the temple, in which all the people and all the princes of the Philistines feasted,
rested on two pillars of remarkable size; and Samson, when brought out, was placed between
these pillars. Then he, having first called upon the Lord, seized his opportunity, and
threw down the pillars. The whole multitude was overwhelmed in the ruins of the building,
and Samson himself died along with his enemies, not without having avenged himself upon
them, after he had ruled the Hebrews twenty years. To him Simmichar succeeded, of whom
Scripture relates nothing more than that simple fact. For I do not find that even the time
when his rule came to an end is mentioned, and I see that the people was for some time
without a leader. Accordingly, when civil war arose against the tribe of Benjamin, Judah
was chosen as a temporary leader in the war. But most of those who have written about
these times note that his rule was only for a single year. On this account, many pass him
by altogether, and place Eli, the priest, immediately after Samson. We shall leave that
point doubtful, as one not positively ascertained.

CHAPTER XXIX.

1 About these times, civil war, as we have said, had broken out; and the following was the
cause of the tumult. A certain Levite was on a journey along with his concubine, and,
constrained by the approach of night, he took up his abode in the town of Gabaa, which was
inhabited by men of Benjamin. A certain old man having kindly admitted him to hospitality,
the young men of the town surrounded the guest, with the view of subjecting him to
improper treatment. After being much chidden by the old man, and with difficulty dissuaded
from their purpose, they at length received for their wanton sport the person of his
concubine as a substitute for his own; and they thus spared the stranger, but abused her
through the whole night, and only restored her on the following day. But she (whether from
the injury their vile conduct had inflicted on her, or from shame, I do not venture to
assert) died on again seeing her husband. Then the Levite, in testimony of the horrible
deed, divided her members into twelve parts, and distributed them among the twelve tribes
that indignation at such conduct might the more readily be excited in them all. And when
this became known to all of them, the other eleven tribes entered into a warlike
confederacy against Benjamin. In this war, Judah, as we have said, was the general. But
they had bad success in the first two battles. At length, however, in the third, the
Benjamites were conquered, and cut off to a man;

2 thus the crime of a few was punished by the destruction of a multitude. These things
also are contained in the Book of Judges: the Books of Kings follow. But to me who am
following the succession of the years, and the order of the dates, the history does not
appear marked by strict chronological accuracy. For, since after Samson as judge, there
came Semigar, and a little later the history certifies that the people lived without
judges, Eli the priest is related in the Books of Kings to have also been a judge, but the
Scripture has not stated how many years there were between Eli and Samson. I see that
there was some portion of time between these two, which is left in obscurity. But, from
the day of the death of Joshua up to the time at which Samson died, there are reckoned
four hundred and eighteen years, and from the beginning of the world, four thousand three
hundred and three. Nevertheless, I am not ignorant that others differ from this reckoning
of ours; but I am at the same time conscious that I have, not without some care, set forth
the order of events in the successive years (a thing hitherto left in obscurity), until I
have fallen upon these times, concerning which I confess that I have my doubts. Now I
shall go on to what remains.

CHAPTER XXX.

The Hebrews, then, as I have narrated above, were living according to their own will,
without any judge or general. Eli was priest; and in his days Samuel was born. His
father's name was Elchana, and his mother's, Anna. She having long been barren, is said,
when she asked a child from God, to have vowed that, if it were a boy, it should be
dedicated to God. Accordingly, having brought forth a boy, she delivered him to Eli the
priest. By and by, when he had grown up, God spoke to him. He denounced wrath against Eli
the priest on account of the life of his sons, who had made the priesthood of their father
a means of gain to themselves, and exacted gifts from those who came to sacrifice; and,
although their father is related to have often reproved them, yet his reproofs were too
gentle to serve the purpose of discipline. Well, the Philistines made an incursion into
Judaea, and were met by the Israelites. But the Hebrews, being beaten, prepare to renew
the contest: they carry the ark of the Lord with them into battle, and the sons of the
priests go forth with it, because he himself, being burdened with years, and afflicted
with blindness, could not discharge that duty. But, when the ark was brought within sight
of the enemy, terrified as if by the majesty of God's presence, they were ready to take to
flight. But again recovering courage, and changing their minds (not without a divine
impulse), they rush into battle with their whole strength. The Hebrews were conquered; the
ark was taken; the sons of the priest fell. Eli, when the news of the calamity was brought
to him, being overwhelmed with grief, breathed his last, after he had held the priesthood
for twenty years.

CHAPTER XXXI.

1 The Philistines, victorious in this prosperous battle, brought the ark of God, which had
fallen into their hands, into the temple of Dagon in the town of Azotus. But the image,
dedicated to a demon, fell down when the ark was brought in there; and, on their setting
the idol up again in its place, in the following night it was torn in pieces. Then mice,
springing up throughout all the country, caused by their venomous bites the death of many
thousand persons. The men of Azotus, constrained by this source of suffering, in order to
escape the calamity, removed the ark to Gath. But the people there being afflicted with
the same evils, conveyed the ark to Ascalon. The inhabitants, however, of that place, the
chief men of the nation having been called together, formed the design of sending back the
ark to the Hebrews. Thus, in accordance with the opinion of the chiefs, and augurs, and
priests, it was placed upon a cart, and sent back with many gifts. This remarkable thing
then happened, that when they had yoked heifers to the conveyance, and had retained their
calves at home, these cattle took their course, without any guide, towards Judaea, and
showed no desire of returning, from affection toward their young left behind. The rulers
of the Philistines, who had followed the ark into the territory of the Hebrews, were so
struck by the marvelousness of this occurrence that they performed a religious service.

2 But the Jews, when they saw the ark brought back, vied with each other in joyously
rushing forth from the town of Betsamis to meet it, and in hurrying, exulting, and
returning thanks to God. Presently, the Levites, whose business it was, perform a
sacrifice to God, and offer those heifers which had brought the ark. But the ark could not
be kept in the town which I have named above, and thus severe illness fell by the
appointment of God, upon the whole city. The ark was then transferred to the town of
Cariathiarim, and there it remained twenty years.

CHAPTER XXXII.

AT this time, Samuel the priest ruled over the Hebrews; and there being a cessation of all
war, the people lived in peace. But this tranquillity was disturbed by an invasion of the
Philistines, and all ranks were in a state of terror from their consciousness of guilt.
Samuel, having first offered sacrifice, and trusting in God, led his men out to battle,
and the enemy being routed at the first onset, victory declared for the Hebrews. But when
the fear of the enemy was thus removed, and affairs were now prosperous and peaceful, the
people, changing their views for the worse, after the manner of the mob, who are always
weary of what they have, and long for things of which they have had no experience,
expressed a desire for the kingly name-a name greatly disliked by almost all free nations.
Yes, with an example of madness certainly very remarkable, they now preferred to exchange
liberty for slavery. They, therefore, come in great numbers to Samuel, in order that, as
he himself was now an old man, he might make for them a king. But he endeavored in a
useful address, quietly to deter the people from their insane desire; he set forth the
tyranny and haughty rule of kings, while he extolled liberty, and denounced slavery;
finally, he threatened them with the divine wrath, if they should show them,selves men so
corrupt in mind as that, when having God as their king, they should demand for themselves
a king from among men. Having spoken these and other words of a like nature to no purpose,
finding that the people persisted in the determination, he consulted God. And God, moved
by the madness of that insane nation, replied that nothing was to be refused to them
asking against their own interests.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

1 Accordingly, Saul, having been first anointed by Samuel with the sacerdotal oil, was
appointed king. He was of the tribe of Benjamin, and his father's name was Kish. He was
modest in mind, and of a singularly handsome figure, so that the dignity of his person
worthily corresponded to the royal dignity. But in the beginning of his reign, some
portion of the people had revolted from him, refusing to acknowledge his authority, and
had joined themselves to the Ammonites. Saul, however, energetically wreaked his vengeance
on these people; the enemy were conquered, and pardon was granted to the Hebrews. Then
Saul is said to have been anointed by Samuel a second time. Next, a bloody war arose by an
invasion of the Philistines; and Saul had appointed Gilgal as the place where his army was
to assemble. As they waited there seven days for Samuel, that he might offer sacrifice to
God, the people gradually dropped away owing to his delay, and the king, with unlawful
presumption, presented a burnt-offering, thus taking upon him the duty of a priest. For
this he was severely rebuked by Samuel, and acknowledged his sin with a penitence that was
too late. For, as a result of the king's sin, fear had pervaded the whole army. The camp
of the enemy lying at no great distance showed them how actual the danger was, and no one
had the courage to think of going forth to battle:

2 most had be-taken themselves to the marshes For besides the want of courage on the part
of those who felt that God was alienated from them on account of the king's sin, the army
was in the greatest want of iron weapons; so much so that nobody, except Saul and Jonathan
his son, is said to have possessed either sword or spear. For the Philistines, as
conquerors in the former wars, had deprived the Hebrews of the use of arms, and no one had
had the power of forging any weapon of war, or even making any implement for rural
purposes. In these circumstances, Jonathan, with an audacious design, and with his armor-
bearer as his only companion, entered the camp of the enemy, and having slain about twenty
of them, spread a terror throughout the whole army. And then, through the appointment of
God, betaking themselves to flight, they neither carried out orders nor kept their ranks,
but placed all the hope of safety in flight. Saul, perceiving this, hastily drew forth his
men, and pursuing the fugitives, obtained a victory. The king is said on that day to have
issued a proclamation that no one should help himself to food until the enemy were
destroyed. But Jonathan, knowing nothing of this prohibition, found a honey-comb, and,
dipping the point of his weapon in it, ate up the honey. When that became known to the
king through the anger of God which followed, he ordered his son to be put to death.

3 But by the help of the people, he was saved from destruction. At that time, Samuel,
being instructed by God, went to the king, and told him in the words of God to make war on
the nation of the Amalekites, who had of old hindered the Hebrews when they were coming
out of Egypt; and the prohibition was added that they should not covet any of the spoils
of the conquered. Accordingly, an army was led into the territory of the enemy, the king
was taken, and the nation subdued. But Saul, unable to resist the magnitude of the spoil,
and unmindful of the divine injunctions, ordered the booty to be saved and gathered
together.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

1 God, displeased with what had been done, spoke to Samuel, saying that he repented that
he had made Saul king. The priest reports what he had heard to the king. And ere long,
being instructed by God, he anointed David with the royal oil, while be was as yet only a
little boy living under the care of his father, and acting as a shepherd, while he was
accustomed often to play upon the harp. For this reason, he was taken afterwards by Saul,
and reckoned among the servants of the king. And the Philistines and Hebrews being. at
this time hotly engaged in war, as the armies were stationed opposite to each other, a
certain man of the Philistines named Goliath, a man of marvelous size and strength,
passing along the ranks of his countrymen, cast insults, in the fiercest terms, upon the
enemy, and challenged any one to engage in single combat with him. Then the king promised
a great reward and his daughter in marriage to any one who should bring home the spoils of
that boaster; but no one out of so great a multitude ventured to make the attempt. In
these circumstances, though still a youth, David offered himself for the contest, and
rejecting the arms by which his yet tender age was weighed down, simply with a staff and
five stones which he had taken, advanced to the battle. And by the first blow, having
discharged one of the stones from a sling, he overthrew the Philistine;

2 then he cut off the head of his conquered foe, carried off his spoils, and afterwards
laid up his sword in the temple. In the meanwhile, all the Philistines, turning to flight,
yielded the victory to the Hebrews. But the great favor shown to David as they were
returning from the battle excited the envy of the king. Fearing, however, that if he put
to death one so beloved by all, that might give rise to hatred against himself and prove
disastrous, he resolved, under an appearance of doing him honor, to expose him to danger.
First then he made him a captain, that he might be charged with the affairs of war; and
next, although he had promised him his daughter, he broke his word, and gave her to
another. Ere long, a younger daughter of the king, Melchol by name, fell violently in love
with David. Accordingly, Saul sets before David as the condition of obtaining her in
marriage the following proposal: that if he should bring in a hundred foreskins of the
enemy, the royal maiden would be given him in marriage; for he hoped that the youth,
venturing on so great dangers, would probably perish. But the result proved very different
from what he imagined, for David, according to the proposal made to him, speedily brought
in a hundredforeskins of the Philistines; and thus he obtained the daughter of the king in
marriage.

CHAPTER XXXV.

1 The hatred of the king towards him increased daily, under the influence of jealousy, for
the wicked always persecute the good. He, therefore, commanded his servants and Jonathan
his son, to prepare snares against his life. But Jonathan had even from the first had a
great regard and affection for David; and therefore the king, being taken to task by his
son, suppressed the cruel order he had given. But the wicked are not long good. For, when
Saul was afflicted by a spirit of error, and David stood by him, soothing him with the
harp under his trouble, Saul tried to pierce him with a spear, and would have done so, had
not he rapidly evaded the deadly blow. From this time forth, the king no longer secretly
but openly sought to compass his death; and David no longer trusted himself in his power.
He fled, and first betook himself to Samuel, then to Abimelech, and finally fled to the
king of Moab. By-and-by, under the instructions of the prophet Gad, he returned into the
land of Judah, and there ran in danger of his life. At that time, Saul slew Abimelech the
priest because he had received David; and when none of the king's servants ventured to lay
hands upon the priest, Doeg, the Syrian, fulfilled the cruel duty. After that, David made
for the desert. Thither Saul also followed him, but his efforts at his destruction were in
vain, for God protected him. There was a cave in the desert, opening with a vast recess.

2 David had thrown himself into the inner parts of this cave. Saul, not knowing that he
was there, had gone into it for the purpose of taking bodily refreshment, and there,
overcome by sleep, he was resting. When David perceived this, although all urged him to
avail himself of the opportunity, he abstained from slaying the king, and simply took away
his mantle. Presently going out, he addressed the king from a safe position behind,
recounting the services he had done him, how often he had exposed his life to peril for
the sake of the kingdom, and how last of all, he bad not, on the present occasion, sought
to kill him when he was given over to him by God. Upon hearing these things, Saul
confessed his fault, entreated pardon, shed tears, extolled the piety of David, and blamed
his own wickedness, while he addressed David as king and son. He was so much changed from
his former ferocious character, that no one could now have thought he would make any
further attempt against his son-in-law. But David, who had thoroughly tested and known his
evil disposition, did not think it safe to put himself in the power of the king, and kept
himself within the desert. Saul, almost mad with rage, because he was unable to capture
his son-in-law, gave in marriage to one Faltim his daughter Melchol, who, as we have
related above, had been married to David. David fled to the Philistines.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

1 AT that time Samuel died. Saul, when the Philistines made war upon him, consulted God,
and no answer was returned to him. Then, by means of a woman whose entrails a spirit of
error had filled, he called up and consulted Samuel Saul was informed by him that on the
following day he with his sons, being overcome by the Philistines, would fall in the
battle. The Philistines, accordingly, having pitched their camp on the enemy's territory,
drew up their army in battle array on the following day, David, however, being sent away
from the camp, because they did not believe that he would be faithful to them against his
own people. But the battle taking place, the Hebrews were routed and the sons of the king
fell; Saul, having sunk down from his horse, that he might not be taken alive by the
enemy, fell on his own sword. We do not find any Certain statements as to the length of
his reign, unless that he is said in the Acts of the Apostles to have reigned forty years.
As to this, however, I am inclined to think that Paul, who made the statement in his
preaching, then meant to include also the years of Samuel under the length of that king's
reign. Most of those, however, who have written about these times, remark that he reigned
thirty years.

2 I can, by no means, agree with this opinion, for at the time when the ark of God was
transferred to the town of Cariathiarim, Saul had not yet begun to reign, and it is
related that the ark was removed by David the king out of that town after it had been
there twenty years. Therefore, since Saul reigned and died within that period, he must
have held the government only for a very brief space of time. We find the same obscurity
concerning the times of Samuel, who, having been born under the priesthood of Eli, is
related, when very old, to have fulfilled the duties of a priest. By some, however, who
have written about these times (for the sacred history has recorded almost nothing about
his years), but by most he is said to have ruled the people seventy years. I have,
however, been unable to discover what authority there is for this assumption. Amid such
variety of error, we have followed the account of the Chronicles, because we think that it
was taken (as said above) from the Acts of the Apostles, and we repeat that Samuel and
Saul together held the government for forty years.


THE SACRED HISTORY
==================

THE SACRED HISTORY continued

CHAPTER XXXVII.

1 Saul having thus been cut off, David, when the news of his death was brought to him in
the land of the Philistines, is related to have wept, and to have given a marvelous proof
of his affection. He then betook himself to Hebron, a town of Judaea; and, being there
again anointed with the royal oil, received the title of king. But Abenner, who had been
master of the host of King Saul, despised David, and made Isbaal. king, the son of King
Saul. Various battles then took place between the generals of the kings. Abenner was
generally routed; yet in his flight he cut off the brother of Joab, who had the command of
the army on the side of David. Joab, on account of the sorrow he felt for this,
afterwards, when Abenner had surrendered to King David, ordered him to be murdered, not
without regret on the part of the king, whose honor he had thus tarnished. At the same
time, almost all the older men of the Hebrews conferred on him by public consent the
sovereignty of the whole nation; for during seven years he had reigned only in Hebron.
Thus, he was anointed king for the third time, being about thirty years of age. He
repulsed in successful battles the Philistines making inroads upon his kingdom. And at
that time, he transferred to Zion the ark of God, which, as I have said above, was in the
town of Cariathiarim.

2 And when he had formed the intention of building a temple to God, the divine answer was
given him to the effect, that that was reserved for his son. He then conquered the
Philistines in war, subjugated the Moabites, and subdued Syria, imposing tribute upon it.
He brought back with him an enormous amount of booty in gold and brass. Next, a war arose
against the Ammonites on account of the injury which had been done by their king, Annon.
And when the Syrians again rebelled, having formed a confederacy for war with the
Ammonites, David intrusted the chief command of the war to Joab, the master of his host,
and he himself remained in Jerusalem far from the scene of strife.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

1 AT this time, he knew in a guilty way Bersabe, a woman of remarkable beauty. She is said
to have been the wife of a certain man called Uriah, who was then in the camp. David
caused him to be slain by exposing him to the enemy at a dangerous place in the battle. In
this way, he added to the number of his wives the woman who was now free from the bond of
marriage, but who was already pregnant through adultery. Then David, after being severely
reproved by Nathan the prophet, although he confessed his sin, did not escape the
punishment of God. For he lost in a few days the son who was born from the clandestine
connection, and many terrible things happened in respect to his house and family. At last
his son Absalom lifted impious arms against his father, with the desire of driving him
from the throne. Joab encountered him in the field of battle, and the king entreated him
to spare the young man when conquered; but he, disregarding this command, avenged with the
sword his parricidal attempts. That victory is said to have been a mournful one to the
king: so great was his natural affection that he wished even his parricidal son to be
forgiven. This war seemed hardly finished when another arose, under a certain general
called Sabaea, who had stirred up all the wicked to arms. But the whole commotion was
speedily checked by the death of the leader.

2 David then engaged in several battles against the Philistines with favorable results;
and all being subdued by war, both foreign and home disturbances having been brought to
accord, he possessed in peace a most flourishing kingdom. Then a sudden desire seized him
of numbering the people, in order to ascertain the strength of his empire; and accordingly
they were numbered by Joab, the master of the host, and were found to amount to one
million three hundred thousand citizens. David soon regretted and repented of this
proceeding, and implored pardon of God for having lifted up his thoughts to this, that he
should reckon the power of his kingdom rather by the multitude of his subjects than by the
divine favor. Accordingly, an angel was sent to him to reveal to him a threefold
punishment, and to give him the power of choosing either one or another. Well, when a
famine for three years was set before him, and flight before his enemies for three months,
and a pestilence for three days, shunning both flight and famine, he made choiceof
pestilence, and, almost in a moment of time, seventy thousand men perished. Then David,
beholding the angel by whose right hand the people were overthrown, implored pardon, and
offered himself singly to punishment instead of all, saying that he deserved destruction
inasmuch as it was he who had sinned. Thus, the punishment of the people was turned aside;
and David built an altar to God on the spot where he had beheld the angel.

3 After this, having become infirm through years and illness, he appointed Solomon, who
had been born to him by Bersabe, the wife of Uriah, his successor in the kingdom. He,
having been anointed with the royal oil by Sadoc the priest, received the title of king,
while his father was still alive. David died, after he had reigned forty years.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Solomon in the beginning of his reign surrounded the city with a wall. To him while asleep
God appeared standing by him, and gave him the choice of whatever things he desired. But
he asked that nothing more than wisdom should be granted him, deeming all other things of
little value. Accordingly, when he arose from sleep; taking his stand before the sanctuary
of God, he gave a proof of the wisdom which had been bestowed upon him by God. For two
women who dwelt in one house, having given birth to male children at the same time, and
one of these having died in the night three days afterwards, the mother of the dead child,
while the other woman slept, insidiously substituted her child, and took away the living
one. Then there arose an altercation between them, and the matter was at length brought
before the king. As no witness was forthcoming, it was a difficult matter to give a
judgment between both denying guilt. Then Solomon, in the exercise of his gift of divine
wisdom, ordered the child to be slain and its body to be divided between the two doubtful
claimants. Well, when one of them acquiesced in this judgment, but the other wished rather
to give up the boy than that he should be cut in pieces, Solomon, concluding from the
feeling displayed by this woman that she was the true mother, adjudged the child to her.
The bystanders could not repress their admiration at this decision, since he had in such a
way brought out the hidden truth by his sagacity. Accordingly, the kings of the
neighboring nations, out of admiration for his ability and wisdom, courted his friendship
and alliance being prepared to carry out his commands.

CHAPTER XL.

1 Trusting in these resources, Solomon set about erecting a temple of immense size to God,
funds for the purpose having been got together during three years, and laid the foundation
of it about the fourth year of his reign. This was about the five hundred and eighty-
eighth year after the departure of the Hebrews from Egypt, although in the third Book of
Kings the years are reckoned at four hundred and forty. This is by no means accurate; for
it would have been more likely that, in the order of dates I have given above, I should
perhaps reckon fewer years than more. But I do not doubt that the truth had been falsified
by the carelessness of copyists, especially since so many ages intervened, rather than
that the sacred writer erred. In the same way, in the case of this little work of ours, we
believe it will happen that, through the negligence of transcribers, those things which
have-been put together, not without care on our part, should be corrupted. Well, then,
Solomon finished his work of building the temple in the twentieth year from its
commencement. Then, having offered sacrifice in that place, as well as uttered a prayer,
by which he blessed the people and the temple, God spoke to him, declaring that, if at any
time they should sin and forsake God, their temple should be razed to the ground. We see
that this has a long time ago been fulfilled, and in due time we shall set forth the
connected order of events.

2 In the meantime, Solomon abounded in wealth, and was, in fact, the richest of all the
kings that ever lived. But, as always takes place in such circumstances, he sunk from
wealth into luxury and vice, forming marriages (in spite of the prohibition of God) with
foreign women, until he had seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines. As a
consequence, hesetup idols for them, after the manner of their nations, to which they
might offer sacrifice. God, turned away from him by such. doings, reproved him sharply,
and made known to him as a punishment, that the greater part of his kingdom would be taken
from his son, and given to a servant. And that happened accordingly.

CHAPTER XLI.

1 For, on the death of Solomon in the fortieth year of his reign, Roboam his son having
succeeded to the throne of his father in the sixteenth year of his age, a portion of the
people, taking offense, revolted from him. For, having asked that the very heavy tribute
which Solomon had imposed upon them might be lessened, he rejected the entreaties of these
suppliants, and thus alienated from him the favor of the whole people. Accordingly, by
universal consent, the government was bestowed on Jeroboam. He, sprung from a family of
middle rank, had for some time been in the service of Solomon. But when the king found
that the sovereignty of the Hebrews had been promised to him by a response of the prophet
Achia, he had resolved privately to cut him off. Jeroboam, under the influence of this
fear, fled into Egypt, and there married a wife of the royal family. But, when at length
he heard of the death of Solomon, he returned to his native land, and, by the wish of the
people, as we have said above, he assumed the government. Two tribes, however, Judah and
Benjamin, had remained under the sway of Roboam; and from these he got ready an army of
thirty thousand men. But when the two hosts advanced, the people were instructed by the
words of God to abstain from fighting, for that Jeroboam had received the kingdom by
divine appointment. Thus the army disdained the command of the king, and dispersed, while
the power of Jeroboam was increased.

2 But, since Roboam held Jerusalem, where the people had been accustomed to offer
sacrifice to God in the temple built by Solomon, Jeroboam, fearing lest their religious
feelings might alienate the people from him, resolved to fill their minds with
superstition. Accordingly, he set up one golden calf at Bethel, and another at Dan, to
which the people might offer sacrifice; and, passing by the tribe of Levi, he appointed
priests from among the people. But censure followed this guilt so hateful to God. Frequent
battles then took place between the kings, and so they retained their respective kingdoms
on doubtful conditions. Roboam died at the close of the seventeenth year of his reign.

CHAPTER XLII.

1 In his room Abiud his son held the kingdom at Jerusalem for six years, although he is
said in the Chronicles to have reigned three years. Asab his son succeeded him, being the
fifth from David, as he was his great-great-grandson. He was a pious worshiper of God;
for, destroying the altars and the groves of the idols, he removed the traces of his
father's faithlessness. He formed an alliance with the king of Syria, and by his help
inflicted much loss on the kingdom of Jeroboam, which was then held by his son, and often,
after conquering the enemy, carried off spoil as the result of victory. After forty-one
years he died, afflicted with disease in his feet. To him sin of a three-fold kind is
ascribed; first, that he trusted too much to his alliance with the king of Syria;
secondly, that he cast into prison a prophet of God who rebuked him for this; and thirdly,
that, when suffering from disease in his feet, he sought a remedy, not from God, but from
the physicians. In the beginning of his reign died Jeroboam, king of the ten tribes, and
left his throne to his son Nabath. He, from his wicked works, and, both by his own and his
father's doings, hateful to God, did not possess the kingdom more than two years, and his
children, as being unworthy, were deprived of the government. He had for his successor
Baasa, the son of Achia, and he proved himself equally estranged from God.

2 He died in the twenty-sixth year of his reign: and his power passed to Ela his son, but
was not retained more than two years. For Zambri, leader of his cavalry, killed him at a
banquet, and seized the kingdom,-a man equally odious to God and men. A portion of the
people revolted from him, and the royal power was conferred on one Thamnis. But Zambri
reigned before him seven years, and at the same time with him twelve years. And, on the
death of Asab, Josaphat his son began to reign over part of the tribe of Judah, a man
deservedly famous for his pious virtues. He lived at peace with Zambri; and he died, after
a reign of twenty-five years.

CHAPTER XLIII.

1 In the time of his reign, Ahab, the son of Ambri, was king of the ten tribes, impious
above all against God. For having taken in marriage Jezebel, the daughter of Basa, king of
Sidon, he erected an altar and groves to the idol Bahal, and slew the prophets of God. At
this time, Elijah the prophet by prayer shut up heaven, that it should not give any rain
to the earth, and revealed that to the king, in order that he, in his impiety, might know
himself to be the cause of the evil. The waters of heaven, therefore, being restrained,
and since the whole country, burned up by the heat of the sun, did not furnish food either
for man or beast, the prophet had even exposed himself to the side of perishing from
hunger. At that time, when he betook himself to the desert, he depended for life on the
ravens furnishing him with food, while a neighboring rivulet furnished him with water,
until it was dried up. Then, being instructed by God, he went to the town of Saraptae, and
turned aside to lodge with a widow-woman. And when, in his hunger, he begged food from
her, she complained that she had only a handful of meal and a little oil, on the
consumption of which she expected death along with her children.

2 But when Elijah promised in the words of God that neither should the meal lessen in the
barrel nor the oil in the vessel, the woman did not hesitate to believe the prophet
demanding faith, and obtained the fulfillment of what was promised, since by daily
increase as much was added as was day by day taken away. At the same time, Elijah restored
to life the dead son of the same widow. Then, by the command of God, he went to the king,
and having reproved his impiety, he ordered all the people to be gathered together to
himself. When these had hastily assembled, the priests of the idols and of the groves to
the number of about four hundred and fifty, were also summoned. Then there arose a dispute
between them, Elijah setting forth the honor of God, while they upheld their own
superstitions. At length they agreed that a trial should be made to this effect, that if
fire sent down from heaven should consume the slain victim of either of them, that
religion should be accepted as the true one which performed the miracle. Accordingly, the
priests, having slain a calf, began to call upon the idol Bahal; and, after wasting their
invocations to no purpose, they tacitly acknowledged the helplessness of their God. Then
Elijah mocked them and said, "Cry aloud more vehemently, lest perchance he sleeps, and
that thus you may rouse him from the slumber in which he is sunk.

3 The wretched men could do nothing but shudder and mutter to themselves, but still they
waited to see what Elijah would do. Well, he slew a calf and laid it upon the altar,
having first of all filled the sacred place with water; and then, calling upon the name of
the Lord, fire fell from heaven in the sight of all, and consumed alike the water and the
victim. Then truly the people, casting themselves upon the earth, confessed God and
execrated the idols; while finally, by the command of Elijah, the impious priests were
seized, and, being brought down to the brook, were there slain. The prophet followed the
king as he returned from that place; but as Jezebel, the wife of the king, was devising
means for taking his life, he retired to a more remote spot. There God addressed him,
telling him that there were still seven thousand men who had not given themselves up to
idols. That was to Elijah a marvelous statement, for he had supposed that he himself was
the only one who had kept free from impiety.

CHAPTER XLIV.

1 At that time, Ahab, king of Samaria, coveted the vineyard of Naboth, which was adjacent
to his own. And as Naboth was unwilling to sell it to him, he was cut off by the wiles of
Jezebel. Thus Ahab got possession of the vineyard, though he is said at the same time to
have regretted the death of Naboth. Acknowledging his crime, he is related to have done
penance clothed in sackcloth; and in this way he turned aside threatening punishment. For
the king of Syria with a great army, having formed a military confederacy with thirty-two
kings, entered the territories of Samaria, and began to besiege the city with its king.
The affairs of the besieged being then in a state of great distress, the Syrian king
offers these conditions in the war,-if they should give up their gold and silver and
women, he would spare their lives. But, with such iniquitous conditions offered, it seemed
better to suffer the greatest extremities. And now when the safety of all was despaired
of, a prophet sent by God went to the king, encouraged him to go forth to battle, and when
he hesitated, strengthened his confidence in many ways. Accordingly making a sally, the
enemy were routed, and an abundant store of booty was secured. But, after a year, the
Syrian king returned with recruited strength into Samaria, burning to avenge the defeat he
had received, but was again overthrown. In that battle one hundred and twenty thousand of
the Syrians perished;

2 the king was pardoned, and his kingdom and former position were granted him. Then Ahab
was reproved by the prophet in the words of God, for having abused the divine kindness,
and spared the enemy delivered up to him. The Syrian king, therefore, after three years,
made war upon the Hebrews. Against him Ahab, under the advice of some false prophet, went
forth to battle, having spurned the words of Michea the prophet and cast him into prison,
because the prophet had warned him that the fight would prove disastrous to him. Thus,
then, Ahab, being slain in that battle, left the kingdom to his son Ochozia.

CHAPTER XLV.

1 HE being sick in body, and having sent some of his servants to consult an idol about his
recovery, Elijah, as instructed by God, met them in the way, and, after rebuking them
ordered them to inform the king that his death would follow from that disease. Then the
king ordered him to be seized and brought into his presence, but those who were sent for
this purpose were consumed by fire from heaven. The king died, as the prophet had
predicted. To him there succeeded his brother Joram; and he held the government for the
space of twelve years. But on the side of the two tribes, Josaphat the king having died,
Joram his son possessed the kingdom for eighteen years. He had the daughter of Ahab to
wife, and proved himself more like his father-in-law than his father. After him, Ochozias
his son obtained the kingdom. During his reign, Elijah is related to have been taken up to
heaven. At the same time, Elisha his disciple showed himself powerful by working many
miracles, which am all too well known to need any description from my pen.

2 By him the son of a widow was restored to life, a leper of Syria was cleansed, at a time
of famine abundance of all things was brought into the city by the enemy having been put
to flight, water was furnished for the use of three armies, and from a little oil the debt
of a woman was paid by the oil being immensely multiplied, and sufficient means for a
livelihood was provided for herself. In his times, as we have said, Ochozia was king of
the two tribes, while Joram, as we have related above, ruled over the ten; and an alliance
was formed between them. For war was carried on by them with combined forces both against
the Syrians, and against Jeu, who had been anointed by the prophet as king of the ten
tribes; and having gone forth to battle in company, they both perished in the same fight.

CHAPTER XLVI.

1 But Jeu possessed the kingdom of Joram. After the death of Ochozia in Judaea, when he
had reigned one year, his mother, Gotholiah, seized the supreme power, having deprived her
grandson (whose name was Joas) of the government, he being at the time but a little child.
But the power thus snatched from him by his grandmother was, after eight years, restored
to him through means of the priests and people, while his grandmother was driven into
exile. He, at the beginning of his reign, was most devoted to the divine worship, and
embellished the temple at great expense; afterwards, however, being corrupted by the
flattery of the chief men, and unduly honored by them, he incurred wrath. For Azahel, king
of Syria, made war upon him; and, as things went badly with him, he purchased peace with
the gold of the temple. He did not, however, obtain it; but through resentment for what he
had done he was slain by his own people in the fortieth year of his reign. He was
succeeded by his son Amassia. But, on the side of the ten tribes, Jeu having died, Joachas
his son began to reign, displeasing to God on account of his wicked works, in punishment
of which his kingdom was ravaged by the Syrians, until, through the mercy of God, the
enemy was driven back, and the inhabitants of the land began to occupy their former
position. Joachas, having ended his days, left the kingdom to his son Joa.

2 He raised civil war against Amassia, king of the two tribes; and, having obtained the
victory, conveyed much spoil into his own kingdom. That is related to have occurred to
Amassia as a punishment of his sin, for, having entered as a conqueror the territories of
the Idumaeans, he had adopted the idols of that nation. He is described as having reigned
nine years, so far as I find it stated in the Books of Kings. But in the Chronicles of
Scripture, as well as in the Chronicles of Eusebius, he is affirmed to have held the
government twenty-nine years; and the mode of reckoning which may easily be perceived in
these Books of Kings undoubtedly leads to that conclusion. For Jeroboam is said to have
begun to reign as king of the ten tribes in the eighth year of the reign of Amassia, and
to have held the government forty-one years, and to have at length died in the fourth year
of the reign of Ozia, son of Amassia. By this mode of reckoning, the reign of Amassia is
made to extend over twenty-eight years. Accordingly, we, following out this, inasmuch as
it is our purpose to adhere in this work to the dates in their proper order, have accepted
the authority of the Chronicles.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Ozias, then, the son of Amassia, succeeded to him. For, on the side of the ten tribes,
Joas, reaching the end of his days, had given place to his son Jeroboa, and after him,
again, his son Zacharias began to reign. Of these kings, and of all who ruled over Samaria
on the side of the ten tribes, we have not thought it necessary to note the dates,
because, aiming at brevity, we have omitted everything superfluous; and we have thought
that the years should be carefully traced for a knowledge especially of the times of that
portion of the Jews, which being carried into captivity at a later period than the other,
passed through a longer time as a kingdom. Ozias, then, having obtained the kingdom of
Judah, gave his principal care to knowing the Lord, making great use of Zachariah the
prophet (Isaiah, too, is said to have first prophesied under this king); and, on this
account, he carried on war against his neighbors with deservedly prosperous results, while
he also conquered the Arabians. And already he had shaken Egypt with the terror of his
name; but, being elated by prosperity, he ventured on what was forbidden, and offered
incense to God, a thing which it was the established custom for the priests alone to do.
Being, then, rebuked by Azaria the priest, and compelled to leave the sacred place, he
burst out into a rage, but was, when he finally withdrew, covered with leprosy. Under the
influence of this disease he ended his days, after having reigned fifty-two years. Then
the kingdom was given to Joathas his son; and he is related to have been very pious, and
carried on the government with success: he subdued in war the nation of the Ammonites, and
compelled them to pay tribute. He reigned sixteen years, and his son Achaz succeeded him.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

1 The remarkable faith of the Ninevites is related to have been manifested about these
times. That town, rounded of old by Assure, the son of Sere, was the capital of the
kingdom of the Assyrians. It was then full of a multitude of inhabitants, sustaining one
hundred and twenty thousand men, and abounding in wickedness, as is usually the case among
a vast concourse of people. God, moved by their sinfulness, commanded the prophet Jonah to
go from Judaea, and denounce destruction upon the city, as Sodom and Gomorrah had of old
been consumed by fire from heaven. But the prophet declined that office of preaching, not
out of contumacy, but from foresight, which enabled him to behold God reconciled through
the repentance of the people; and he embarked on board a ship which was bound for Tharsus,
in a very different direction. But, after they had gone forth into the deep, the sailors,
constrained by the violence of the sea, inquired by means of the lot who was the cause of
that suffering. And when the lot fell upon Jonah, he was cast into the sea, to be, as it
were, a sacrifice for stilling the tempest, and he was seized and swallowed by a whale-a
monster of the deep. Cast out three days afterwards on the shores of the Ninevites, he
preached as he had been commanded, namely that the city would be destroyed in three days,
as a punishment for the sins of the people.

2 The voice of the prophet was listened to, not in a hypocritical fashion, as at Sodom of
old; and immediately by the order, and after the example, of the king, the whole people,
and even those infants newly born, are commanded to abstain from meat and drink: the very
beasts of burden in the place, and animals of different kinds, being forced by hunger and
thirst, presented an appearance of those who lamented along with the human inhabitants. In
this way, the threatened evil was averted. To Jonah, complaining to God, that his words
had not been fulfilled, it was answered. that pardon could never be denied to the
penitent.

CHAPTER XLIX.

But in Samaria, Zacharia the king, who was very wicked, and whom we have spoken of above
as occupying the throne, was shin by a certain Sella, who seized the kingdom. He, in turn,
perished by the treachery of Mane, who simply repeated the conduct of his predecessor.
Mane held the government which he had taken from Sella, and left it to his son Pache. But
a certain person of the same name slew Pache, and seized the kingdom. Ere long being cut
off by Osee, he lost the sovereignty by the same crime by which he had received it. This
man, being ungodly beyond all the kings who had preceded him, brought punishment upon
himself from God, and a perpetual captivity on his nation. For Salmanasar, king of the
Assyrians, made war with him, and when conquered rendered him tributary. But when, with
secret plans, he was preparing for rebellion, and had asked the king of the Ethiopians,
who then had possession of Egypt for his assistance, Salmanasar, on discovering that, cast
him into prison with fetters never taken off, while he destroyed the city, and carried off
the whole people into his own kingdom, Assyrians being placed in the enemy's country to
guard it. Hence that district was called Samaria, because in the language of the Assyrians
guards are called Samaritan. Very many of their settlers accepted the divine rites of the
Jewish religion, while others remained in the errors of heathenism. In this war, Tobias
was carried into captivity. But on the side of the two tribes, Achaz, who was displeasing
to God on account of his impiety, finding he had frequently the worst of it in wars with
his neighbors, resolved to worship the gods of the heathen, undoubtedly because by their
help his enemies had proved victorious in frequent battles. He ended his days with this
crime in his wicked mind, after a reign of sixteen years.

CHAPTER L.

1 To him succeeded Ezekias his son, a man very unlike his father in character. For, in the
beginning of his reign, urging the people and the priests to the worship of God, he
discoursed to them in many words, showing how often, after being chastened by the Lord,
they had obtained mercy, and how the ten tribes, having been at last carried away into
captivity, as had lately happened, were now paying the penalty of their impiety. He added
that their duty was carefully to be on their guard lest they should deserve to suffer the
same things. Thus, the minds of all being turned to religion, he appointed the Levites and
all the priests to offer sacrifices according to the law, and arranged that the Passover,
which had for a long time been neglected, should be celebrated. And when the holy day was
at hand, he proclaimed the special day of assembly by messengers sent throughout all the
land, so that, if any had remained in Samaria, after the removal of the ten tribes, they
might gather together for thesacred observance. Thus, in a very full assemblage, the
sacred day was spent with public rejoicing, and, after a long interval, the proper
religious rites were restored by means of Ezekias. He then carried on military affairs
with the same diligence with which he had attended to divine things, and defeated the
Philistines in frequent battles; until Sennacherim, king of the Assyrians, made war
against him, having entered his territories with a large army;

2 and then, when the country had been laid waste without any opposition, he laid siege to
the city. For Ezekias, being inferior in numbers, did not venture to come to an engagement
with him, but kept himself safe within the walls. The king of Assyria, thundering at the
gates, threatened destruction, and demanded surrender, exclaiming that in vain did Ezekias
put his trust in God, for that he rather had taken up arms by the appointment of God; and
that the conqueror of all nations, as well as the overthrower of Samaria could not be
escaped, unless the king secured his own safety by a speedy surrender. In this state of
affairs, Ezekias, trusting in God, consulted the prophet Isaiah, and from his answer he
learned that there would be no danger from the enemy, and that the divine assistance would
not fail him. And, in fact, not long after, Tarraca, king of Ethiopia, invaded the kingdom
of the Assyrians.

CHAPTER LI.

By this news Sennacherim was led to return in order to defend his own territories, and he
gave up the war, at the same time murmuring and crying out that victory was snatched from
him the victor. He also sent letters to Ezekias, declaring, with many insulting words,
that he, after settling his own affairs, would speedily return for the destruction of
Judaea. But Ezekias, in no wise disturbed by these threats, is said to have prayed to God
that he would not allow the so great insolence of this man to pass unavenged. Accordingly,
in the same night, an angel attacking the camp of the Assyrians, caused the death of many
thousand men. The king in terror fled to the town of Nineveh, and being there slain by his
sons, met with an end worthy of himself. At the same time, Ezekias, sick in body, lay
suffering from disease. And when Isaiah had announced to him in the words of the Lord that
the end of his life was at hand, the king is related to have wept; and thus he got fifteen
years added to his life. These coming to an end, he died in the twenty-ninth year of his
reign, and left the kingdom to his son Manasse. He, degenerating much from his father,
forsook God, and took to the practice of impious worship; and being, as a punishment for
this, delivered into the power of the Assyrians, he was by his sufferings constrained to
acknowledge his error, and exhorted the people that, forsaking their idols, they should
worship God. He accomplished nothing worthy of special mention, but reigned for fifty-five
years. Then Amos his son obtained the kingdom, but possessed it only two years. He was the
heir of his father's impiety, and showed himself regardless of God: being entrapped by
some stratagems of his friends, he perished.

CHAPTER LII.

The government then passed to his son Josia. He is related to have been very pious, and to
have attended to divine things with the utmost care, profiting largely by the aid of the
priest Helchia. Having read a book written with the words of God, and which had been found
in the temple by the priest, in which it was stated that the Hebrew nation would be
destroyed on account of their frequent acts of impiety and sacrilege, by his pious
supplications to God, and constant tears, he averted the impending overthrow. When he
learned through Olda the prophetess that this favor was granted him, he then with still
greater care set himself to practice the worship of God, inasmuch as he was now under
obligation to the divine goodness. Accordingly, he burned all the vessels which had by the
superstitions of former kings been consecrated to idols. For to such a height had profane
observances prevailed, that they used to pay divine honors to the sun and moon, and even
erected shrines made of metal to these fancied deities. Josia reduced these to powder, and
also slew the priests of the profane temples. He did not even spare the tombs of the
impious; and it was observed that thus was fulfilled what had of old been predicted by the
prophet. In the eighteenth year of his reign, the Passover was celebrated. And about three
years afterwards, having gone forth to battle against Nechao, king of Egypt, who was
making war upon the Assyrians, before the armies prop- erly engaged, he was wounded by an
arrow. And being carried back to the city, he died of that wound, after he had reigned
twenty and one years.

CHAPTER LIII.

1 Joachas, his son, having then obtained the kingdom, held it for three months, being
doomed to captivity on account of his impiety. For Nechao, king of Egypt, bound him and
led him away captive, and not long after, while still a prisoner, he ended his days. An
annual tribute was demanded of the Jews, and a king was given them at the will of the
victor. His name was Eliakim, but he afterwards changed it to Joachim. He was the brother
of Joacha, and the son of Josia, but liker his brother than his father, displeasing God by
his impiety. Accordingly, while he was in subjection to the king of Egypt, and in token
thereof paid him tribute, Nabuchodonosor, the king of Babylon, seized the land of Judaea,
and as victor held it by the right of war for three years. For the king of Egypt now
giving way, and the boundaries of their empire being fixed between them, it had been
agreed that the Jews should belong to Babylon. Thus after Joachim, having finished his
reign of eleven years, had given place to his son of the same name, and he had excited
against himself the wrath of the king of Babylon (God undoubtedly overruling everything,
having resolved to give the nation of the Jews up to captivity and destruction),
Nabuchodonosor entered Jerusalem with an army, and leveled the walls and the temple to the
ground.

2 He also carried off an immense amount of gold, with sacred ornaments either public or
private, and all of mature age both of the male and female sex, those only being left
behind whose weakness or age caused trouble to the conquerors. This useless crowd had the
task assigned them of working and cultivating the fields in slavery, in order that the
soil might not be neglected. Over them a king called Sedechias was appointed; but while
the empty shadow of the name of king was allowed him, all real power was taken away.
Joachim, for his part, possessed the sovereignty only for three months. He was carried
away, along with the people, to Babylon, and was there thrown into prison; but being,
after a period of thirty years released, while he was admitted by the king to his
friendship, and made a partaker with him at his table and in his counsels, he died at
last, not without some consolation in that his misfortunes had been removed.

CHAPTER LIV.

1 Meanwhile Sedechias, the king of the useless multitude, although without power, being of
an unfaithful disposition and neglectful of God, and not understanding that captivity had
been brought upon them on account of the sins of the nation, becoming at length ripe for
suffering the last evils he could endure, offended the mind of the king. Accordingly,
after a period of nine years, Nabuchodonosor made war against him, and having forced him
to flee within the walls, besieged him for three years. At this time, he consulted Jeremia
the prophet, who had already often proclaimed that captivity impended over the city, to
discover if perhaps there might still be some hope. But he, not ignorant of the anger of
heaven, having frequently had the same question put to him, at length gave an answer,
denouncing special punishment upon the king. Then Sedechias, roused to resentment, ordered
the prophet to be thrust into prison. Ere long, however, he regretted this cruel act, but,
as the chief men of the Jews (whose practice it had been even from the beginning to
afflict the righteous) opposed him, he did not venture to release the innocent man. Under
coercion from the same persons, the prophet was let down into a pit of great depth, and
which was disgusting from its filth and squalor, while a deadly stench issued from it.
This was done that he might not simply die by a common death.

2 But the king, impious though he was, yet showed himself somewhat more merciful than the
priests, and ordered the prophet to be taken out of the pit, and restored to the
safekeeping of the prison. In the meantime the force of the enemy and want began to press
the besieged hard, and everything being consumed that could be eaten, famine took a firm
hold of them. Thus, its defenders being worn out with want of food, the town was taken and
burnt. The king, as the prophet had declared, had his eyes put out, and was carried away
to Babylon, while Jeremia, through the mercy of the enemy, was taken out of his prison.
When Nabuzardan, one of the royal princes, was leading him away captive with the rest, the
choice was granted by him to the prophet, either to remain in his deserted and desolated
native country, or to go along with him in the possession of the highest honors; and
Jeremia preferred to abide in his native land. Nabuchodonosor, having carried away the
people, appointed as governor over those left behind by the conquerors (either from the
circumstances attending the war, or from an absolute weariness of accumulating spoil)
Godolia, who belonged to the same nation. He gave him, however, no royal ensign, or even
the name of governor, because there was really no honor in ruling over these few wretched
persons.

CHAPTER I.

1 The times of the captivity have been rendered illustrious by the predictions and deeds
of the prophets, and especially by the remarkable persistency of Daniel in upholding the
law, and by the deliverance of Susanna through the divine wisdom, as well as by the other
things which it accomplished, and which we shall now relate in their order, Daniel was
made a prisoner under King Joachim, and was brought to Babylon, while still a very little
child. Afterwards, on account of the beauty of his countenance, he had a place given him
among the king's servants, and along with him, Annanias, Misael, and Azarias. But, when
the king had ordered them to be supplied with the finer kinds of food, and had imposed it
as a duty on Asphane the eunuch to attend to that matter, Daniel, mindful of the
traditions of his fathers which forbade him to partake of food from the table of a king of
the Gentiles, begged of the eunuch to be allowed to use a diet of pulse only. Asphane
objected that the leanness which would follow might reveal the fact that the king's
commandment had been disobeyed; but Daniel, putting his trust in God, promised that he
would have greater beauty of countenance from living on pulse than from the use of the
king's dainties. And his words were made good, so that the faces of those who were cared
for at the public expense were regarded as by no means comparable to those of Daniel and
his friends.

2 Accordingly, being promoted by the king to honor and favor, they were, in a short time,
by their prudence and wise conduct, preferred to all those that stood nearest to the king.
About the same time, Susanna, the wife of a certain man called Joachis, a woman of
remarkable Beauty, was desired by two elders, and, when she would not listen to their
unchaste proposals, was assailed by a false accusation. These elders reported that a young
man. was found with her in a retired place, but escaped their hands by his youthful
nimbleness, while they were enfeebled with age. Credit, accordingly, was given to these
elders, and Susanna was condemned by the sentence of the people. And, as she was being led
away to punishment according to the law, Daniel, who was then twelve years old, after
having rebuked the Jews for delivering the innocent to death, demanded that she should be
brought back to trial, and that her cause should be heard afresh. For the multitude of the
Jews who were then present, thought that a boy of an age so little commanding respect, had
not ventured to take such a bold step without a divine impulse, and, granting him the
favor which was asked, returned anew to council. The trial, then, is entered upon once
more; and Daniel was allowed to take his place among the elders.

3 Upon this, he orders the two accusers to be separated from each other, and inquires of
each of them in turn, under what kind of a tree he had discovered the adulteress. From the
difference of answers which they gave, their falsehood was detected: Susanna was
acquitted; and the elders, who had brought the innocent into danger, were condemned to
death.

CHAPTER II.

1 AT that time, Nabuchodonosor had a dream mrvelous for that insight into the future which
it implied. As he could not of himself bring out its interpretation, he sent for the
Chaldaeans who were supposed by magic arts and by the entrails of victims to know secret
things, and to predict the future, in order to its interpretation. Presently becoming
apprehensive lest, in the usual manner of men, they should extract from the dream not what
was true, but what would be acceptable to the king, he suppresses the things he had seen,
and demands of them that, if a real power of divination was in them, they should relate to
him the dream itself; saying that he would then believe their interpretation, if they
should first make proof of their skill by relating the dream. But they declined attempting
so great a difficulty, and confessed that such a thing was not within the reach of human
power. The king, enraged because, under a false profession of divination, they were
mocking men with their errors, while they were compelled by the present case to
acknowledge that they had no such knowledge as was pretended, made an exposure of them by
means of a royal edict; and all the men professing that art were publicly put to death.
When Daniel heard of that, he spoke to one of those nearest to the king, and promised to
give an account of the dream, as well as supply its interpretation. The thing is reported
to the king, and Daniel is sent for.

2 The mystery had already been revealed to him by God; and so he relates the vision of the
king, as well as interprets it. But this matter demands that we set forth the dream of the
king and its interpretation, along with the fulfillment of his words by what followed. The
king, then, had seen in his sleep an image with a head of gold, with a breast and arms of
silver, with a belly and thighs of brass, with legs of iron, and which in its feet ended
partly with iron, and partly with clay. But the iron and the day when blended together
could not adhere to each other. At last, a stone cut out without hands broke the image to
pieces, and the whole, being reduced to dust, was carried away by the wind.

CHAPTER III.

1 Accordingly, as the prophet interpreted the matter, the image which was seen furnished a
representation of the world. The golden head is the empire of the Chaldaeans; for we have
understood that it was the first and wealthiest. The breast and the arms of silver
represent the second kingdom; for Cyrus, after the Chaldaeans and the Medes were
conquered, conferred the empire on the Persians. In the brazen belly it is said that the
third sovereignty was indicated; and we see that this was fulfilled, for Alexander took
the empire from the Persians, and won the sovereignty for the Macedonians. The iron legs
point to a fourth power, and that is understood of the Roman empire, which is more
powerful than all the kingdoms which were before it. But the fact that the feet were
partly of iron and partly day, indicates that the Roman empire is to be divided, so as
never to be united. This, too, has been fulfilled, for the Roman state is ruled not by one
emperor but by several, and these are always quarreling among themselves, either in actual
warfare or by factions. Finally, by the clay and the iron being mixed together, yet never
in their substance thoroughly uniting, are shadowed forth those future mixtures of the
human race which disagree among themselves, though apparently combined. For it is obvious
that the Roman territory is occupied by foreign nations, or rebels, or that it has been
given over to those who have surrendered themselves under an appearance of peace.

2 And it is also evident that barbarous nations, and especially Jews, have been commingled
with our armies, cities, and provinces; and we thus behold them living among us, yet by no
means agreeing to adopt our customs. And the prophets declare that these are the last
times. But in the stone cut out without hands, which broke to pieces the gold, silver,
brass, iron, and clay, there is a figure of Christ. For he, not born under human
conditions (since he was born not of the will of man, but of the will of God), will reduce
to nothing that world in which exist earthly kingdoms, and will establish another kingdom,
incorruptible and everlasting, that is, the future world, which is prepared for the
saints. The faith of some still hesitates about this point only, while they do not believe
about things yet to come, though they are convinced of the thingsthat are past. Daniel,
then, was presented with many gifts by the king, was set over Babylon and the whole
empire, and was held in the highest honor. By his influence, Annanias, Azarias, and
Misael, were also advanced to the highest dignity and power. About the same time, the
remarkable prophecies of Ezekiel came out, the mystery of future things and of the
resurrection having been revealed to him. His book is one of great weight, and deserves to
be read with care.

CHAPTER IV.

But in Judaea, over which, as we have related above, Godolin was set after the destruction
of Jerusalem, the Jews taking it very ill that a ruler not of the royal race had been
assigned them by the mere will of the conqueror, with acertain Ismael as their leader and
instigator of the execrable conspiracy, cut off Godolin by means of treachery while he was
at a banquet. Those, however, who had no part in the plot, wishing to take steps for
avenging the deed, hastily take up arms against Ismael. But when he learned that
destruction threatened him, leaving the army which he had collected, and with not more
than eight companions he fled to the Ammonites. Fear, therefore, fell upon the whole
people, lest the king of Babylon should avenge the guilt of a few by the destruction of
all; for, in addition to Godolin, they had slain many of the Chaldaeans along with him.
They, therefore, form a plan of fleeing into Egypt, but they first go in a body to
Jeremia, requesting of him divine counsel. He then exhorted them all in the words of God
to remain in their native country, telling them that if they did so, they would be
protected by the power of God, and that no danger would accrue from the Babylonians, but
that, if they went into Egypt, they would all perish there by sword; and famine, and
different kinds of death. The rabble, however, with the usual evil tendency they show,
being unaccustomed to yield to useful advice and the divine power, did go into Egypt. The
sacred Scriptures are silent as to their future fate; and I have not been able to discover
anything regarding it.

CHAPTER V.

1 At this period of time, Nabuchodonosor elated with prosperity, erected a golden statue
to himself of enormous size, and ordered it to be worshiped as a sacred image. And when
this was zealously gone about by all, inasmuch as their minds had been corrupted by the
universal flattery which prevailed, Annanias, Azarias, and Misael kept aloof from the
profane observance, being well aware that that honor was due to God alone. They were
therefore, according to an edict of the king, regarded as criminals, and there was set
before them, as the means of punishment, a fiery furnace, in order that, by present
terror, they might be compelled to worship the statue. But they preferred to be swallowed
up by the flames rather than to commit such a sin. Accordingly, they were bound, and cast
into the midst of the fire. But the flames laid hold of the agents in this execrable work,
as they were forcing, with all eagerness, the victims into the fire; while -wonderful to
say, and indeed incredible to all but eye-witnesses-the fire did not touch the Hebrews at
all. They were seen by the spectators walking in the midst of the furnace, and singing a
song of praise to God, while there was also beheld along with them a fourth person having
the appearance of an angel, and whom Nabuchodonosor, on obtaining a nearer view of him,
acknowledged to be the Son of God.

2 Then the king having no doubt that the divine power was present in the event which had
taken place, sent proclamations throughout his whole kingdom making known the miracle
which had taken place, and confessing that honor was to be paid to God alone. Not long
after, being instructed by a vision which presented itself to him, and presently also by a
voice which reached him from heaven, he is said to have done penance by laying aside his
kingly power, retiring from all intercourse with mankind, and to have sustained life by
herbs alone. However, his empire was kept for him by the will of God, until the time was
fulfilled, and at length duly acknowledging God, he was, after seven years, restored to
his kingdom and former position. He is related, after having conquered Sedechia (whom he
carried away captive to Babylon), as we have said above, to have reigned twenty-six years,
although I do not find that recorded in the sacred history. But it has perhaps happened
that, while I was engaged in searching out many points, I found this remark in the work of
some anonymous author which had become interpolated in course of time, and in which the
dates of the Babylonish kings were contained.

3 I did not think it right to pass the remark unnoticed, since it does in fact harmonize
with the Chronicles, and thus its account agrees with us, to the effect that, through the
succession of the kings, whose dates the record contained, it completed seventy years up
to the first year of king Cyrus, and such in fact is the number of years which is stated
in the sacred history to have elapsed from the captivity up to the time of Cyrus.

CHAPTER VI.

1 After Nabuchodonosor, the kingdom fell to his son, whom I find called Euilmarodac in the
Chronicles. He died in the twelfth year of his reign, and made room for his younger
brother, who was called Balthasar. He, when in the fourteenth year he gave a public feast
to his chief men and rulers, ordered the sacred vessels (which had been taken away by
Nabuchodonosor from the temple at Jerusalem, yet had not been employed for any uses of the
king, but were kept laid up in the treasury) to be brought forth. And when all persons,
both of the male and female sex, with his wives and concubines, were using these amid the
luxury and licentiousness of a royal banquet, suddenly the king observed fingers writing
upon the wall, and the letters were perceived to be formed into words. But no one could be
found who was able. to read the writing. The king, therefore, in perturbation called for
the magi and the Chaldaeans. When these simply muttered, among themselves and answered
nothing, the queen reminded the king that there was a certain Hebrew, Daniel by name, who
had formerly revealed to Nabuchodonosor a dream containinga secret mystery, and had then,
on account of his remarkable wisdom, been promoted to the highest honors. Accordingly, he,
being sent for, read and interpreted the writing, to the effect that, on account of the
sin of the king, who had profaned vessels sacred to God, destruction impended over him,
and that his kingdom was given to the Medes and Persians.

2 And this presently took place. For, on the same night, Balthasar perished, and Darius, a
Mede by nation, took possession of his kingdom. He again, finding that Daniel was held in
the highest reputation, placed him at the head of the whole empire, in this following the
judgment of the kings who had preceded him. For Nabuchodonosor had also set him over the
kingdom, and Balthasar had presented him with a purple robe and a golden chain, while he
also constituted him the third ruler in the kingdom.

CHAPTER VII.

1 Those, therefore, who were possessed of power along with him, stimulated by envy,
because a foreigner belonging to a captive nation had been placed on a footing of equality
with them, constrain the king, who had been corrupted by flattery, to enact that divine
honors should be paid to him for the next thirty days, and that it should not be lawful
for any one to pray to a god except. the king. Darius was easily persuaded to that,
through the folly of all kings who claim for themselves divine honors. In these
circumstances, Daniel being not unacquainted with what had happened, and not being
ignorant that prayer ought to be addressed to God, and not to man, is accused of not
having obeyed the king's commandment. And much against the will of Darius, to whom he had
always been dear and acceptable, the rulers prevailed that he should be let down into a
den. But no harm came to him when thus exposed to the wild beasts. And on the king
discovering this, he ordered his accusers to be given over to the lions. They, however,
did not pass through a similar experience, for they were instantly devoured to satisfy the
hunger of the savage beasts. Daniel, who had been famous before, was now esteemed still
more famous; and the king, repealing his former edict, issued a new one to the effect
that, all errors and superstitions being abandoned, the God of Daniel was to be worshiped.

2 There exists also a record of visions of Daniel, in which he revealed the order of
events in coming ages, embracing in them also the number of the years, within which he
announced that Christ would descend to earth (as has taken place), and clearly set forth
the future coming of Antichrist. If any one is eager to inquire into these points, he will
find them more fully treated of in the book of Daniel: our design is simply to present a
connected statement of events. Darius is related to have reigned eighteen years; after
which date Astyages began to rule over the Medes.

CHAPTER VIII.

1 Him Cyrus, his grandson by his daughter, expelled from the kingdom, having used the arms
of the Persians for the purpose; and hence the chief power was transferred to the
Persians. The Babylonians also fell under his power and government. It happened at the
beginning of his reign that, by the issue of public edicts, he gave permission to the Jews
to return into their own country; and he also restored the sacred vessels which
Nabuchodonosor had carried away from the temple at Jerusalem. Accordingly, a few then
returned into Judaea; as to the others, we have not been able to discover whether the
desire of returning, or the power of doing so, was wanting. There was at that time among
the Babylonians a brazen image of Belus, a very ancient king, whom Virgil also has
mentioned. This having been deemed sacred by the superstition of the people, Cyrus also
had been accustomed to worship, being deceived by the trickery of its priests. They
affirmed that the image ate and drank, while they themselves secretly carried off the
daily portion which was offered to the idol. Cyrus, then, being on intimate terms with
Daniel, asked him why he did not worship the image, since it was a manifest symbol of the
living God, as consuming those things which were offered to it. Daniel, laughing at the
mistake of the man, replied that it could not possibly be the case, that that work of
brass-mere insensate matter-could use either meat or drink.

2 The king, therefore, ordered the priests to be called (they were about seventy in
number); and, bringing terror to bear upon them, he reprovingly asked them who was in the
way of consuming what was offered, since Daniel, a man distinguished for his wisdom,
maintained that that could not be done by an insensate image. Then they, trusting in their
ready-made trick, ordered the usual offering to be made, and the temple to be sealed up by
the king, on the understanding that, unless on the following day the whole offering were
found to have been consumed, they should suffer death, while, on the opposite being
discovered, the same fate awaited Daniel. Accordingly, the temple was sealed up by the
signet of the king; but Daniel had previously, without the knowledge of the priests,
covered the floor of it with ashes, so that their footprints might betray the clandestine
approaches of those who entered. The king, then, having entered the temple on the
following day, perceived that those things had been taken away, which he had ordered to be
served up to the idol. Then Daniel lays open the secret fraud by the betraying footprints,
showing that the priests, with their wives and children, had entered the temple by a hole
opened from below, and had devoured those things which were served up to the idol.
Accordingly, all of them were put to death by the order of the king, while the temple and
image were submitted to the power of Daniel, and were destroyed at his command.

CHAPTER IX.

1 In the meantime, those Jews, who, as we have said above, returned into their native land
by the permission of Cyrus, attempted to restore their city and temple. But, being few and
poor, they made but little progress, until, at last, after the lapse of about a hundred
years, while Artaxerxes the king ruled over the Persians, they were absolutely deterred
from building by those who had local authority. For, at that time, Syria and all Judaea
was ruled under the empire of the Persians by magistrates and governors. Accordingly,
these took counsel to write to king Artaxerxes, that it was not fitting that opportunity
should be granted to the Jews of rebuilding their city, lest, in accordance with their
stubborn character, and being accustomed to rule over other nations, they should, on
recovering their strength, not submit tO live under the sway of a foreign power. Thus, the
plan of the rulers being approved of by the king, the building of the city was put a stop
to, and delayed until the second year of Darius the king. But, who were kings of Persia
throughout this period of time, we shall here insert, in order that the succession of the
dates may be set forth in a regular and fixed order. Well, then, after Darius the Mede,
who, as we have said above, reigned eighteen years, Cyrus held the supreme power for
thirty-one years. While making war upon the Scythians, he fell in battle, in the second
year after Tarquinius Superbus began to reign at Rome.

2 To Cyrus succeeded his son Cambyses, and reigned eight years. He, after harassing with
war Egypt and Ethiopia, and subduing these countries, returned as victor to Persia, but
accidentally hurt himself, and died from that wound. After his death, two brothers, who
were magi, and Medes by nation, held rule over the Persians for seven months. To slay
these, seven of the most noble of the Persians formed a conspiracy, of whom the leader was
Darius, the son of Hystaspes, who was a cousin of Cyrus, and by unanimous consent the
kingdom was bestowed on him: he reigned thirty and six years. He, four years before his
death, fought at Marathon, in a battle greatly celebrated both in Greek and Roman history.
That took place about the two hundred and sixtieth year after the founding of Rome, while
Macerinus and Augurinus were consuls, that is, eight hundred and eighty-eight years ago,
provided the research I have made into the succession of Roman consuls does not deceive
me; for I have made the entire reckoning down to the time of Stilico. After Darius came
Xerxes, and he is said to have reigned twenty-one years, although I have found that the
length of his rule is, in most copies, set down at twenty and five years. To him succeeded
Artaxerxes, of whom we have made mention above. Since he ordered the building of the
Jewish city and temple to be stopped, the work was suspended to the second year of king
Darius.

3 But that the succession of dates may be completed up to him, I have to state that
Artaxerxes reigned forty-one years, Xerxes two months, and that, after him, Sucdianus
ruled for seven months.

CHAPTER X.

1 Next, Darius, under whom the temple was restored, obtained the kingdom, his name being
at that time Ochus. He had three Hebrew of tried fidelity as his bodyguard, and of these
had, from the proof of his prudence which he had given, attracted towards himself the
admiration of the king. The choice, then, being given him of asking for anything which he
had formed a desire for in his heart, groaning over the ruins of his country, he begged
permission to restore the city, and obtained an order from the king to urge the
lieutenants and rulers to hurry forward the building of the holy temple, and furnish the
expense needful to that end. Accordingly, the temple was completed in four that is, in the
sixth year, after Darius began to reign, and that seemed, for the time, enough to the
people of the Jews. For, as it was a work of great labor to restore the city, distrusting
their own resources, they did not venture at the time to begin an undertaking of so great
difficulty, but were content with having rebuilt the temple.

2 At the same time, Esdras the scribe, who was skilled in the law, about twenty years
after the temple had been completed (Darius being now dead who had possessed the
sovereignty for nineteen years), by the permission of Artaxerxes the second (not he who
had a place between the two Xerxes, but he who had succeeded to Darius Ochus), set out
from Babylon with many following him, and they carded to Jerusalem the vessels of various
workmanship, as well as the gifts which the king sent for the temple of God. Along with
were but twelve Levites; for with difficulty number of the tribe is related then to have
found. He, having found that the Jews united in marriage with the Gentiles, rebuked them
severely on that account, and ordered to renounce all connections of that kind, as well as
to put away the children which had been the issue of such marriages; and all yielded
obedience to his word. The people, then, being sanctified, performed the rites sanctioned
by the ancient law. But I do not find that Esdras did anything with the view of restoring
the city; because he thought, as I imagine, that a more urgent duty was to reform the
people from the corrupt habits which they had contracted.

CHAPTER XI.

1 There was at that time at Babylon one Nehemiah, a servant of the king, a Jew by birth,
and very much beloved by Artaxerxes on account of the services he had rendered. He, having
inquired of his fellow-countrymen the Jews, what was the condition of their ancestral
city; and having learned that his native land remained in the same fallen condition as
before, is said to have been disturbed with all his heart, and to have prayed to God with
groans and many tears. He also called to mind the sins of his nation, and urgently
entreated the divine compassion. Accordingly, the king noticing that he, while waiting at
table, seemed more sorrowful than usual, asked him to explain the reasons of his grief.
Then he began to bewail the misfortunes of his nation, and the ruin of his ancestral city,
which now, for almost two hundred and fifty years, being leveled with the ground,
furnished a proof of the evils which had been endured, and a gazing-stock to their
enemies. He therefore begged the king to grant him the liberty of going and restoring it.
The king yielded to these dutiful entreaties, and immediately sent him away with a guard
of cavalry, that he might the more safely accomplish his journey, giving him, at the same
time, letters to the rulers requesting them to furnish him with all that was necessary.
When he arrived at Jerusalem, he distributed the work connected with the city to the
people, man by man;

2 and all vied with each other in carrying out the orders which theyreceived. And already
the work of rebuilding had been half accomplished, when the jealousy of the surrounding
heathen burst out, and the neighboring cities conspired to interrupt the works, and to
deter the Jews from building. But Nehemiah, having stationed guards against those making
assaults upon the people, was in no degree alarmed, and carried out what he had begun. And
thus, after the wall was completed, and the entrances of the gates finished, he measured
out the city for the construction by families of houses within it. He reckoned, also, that
the people were not adequate in numbers to the size of' the city; for there were not more
of them than fifty thousand of both sexes and of all ranks-to such an extent had their
formerly enormous numbers been reduced by frequent wars, and by the multitude kept in
captivity. For, of old, those two tribes, of whom the remaining people were all that
survived, had, when the ten tribes were separated from them, been able to furnish three
hundred and twenty thousand armed men. But being given up by God, on account of their sin,
to death and captivity, they had sunk down to the miserably small number which they now
presented. This company, however, as I have said, consisted only of the two tribes:

3 the ten which had previously been carried away being scattered among the Parthians,
Medes, Indians, and Ethiopians never returned to their native country, and are to this day
held under the sway of barbarous nations. But the completion of the restored city is
related to have been effected in the thirty-second year of the reign of Artaxerxes. From
that time to the crucifixion of Christ; that is, to the time when Fufius Geminus and
Rubellius were consuls, there elapsed three hundred and ninety and eight years. But from
the restoration of the temple to its destruction, which was completed by Titus under
Vespasian, when Augustus was consul, there was a period of four hundred and eighty-three
years. That was formerly predicted by Daniel, who announced that from the restoration of
the temple to its overthrow there would elapse seventy and nine weeks. Now, from the date
of the captivity of the Jews until the time of the restoration of the city, there were two
hundred and sixty years.

CHAPTER XII.

1 At this period of time we think Esther and Judith lived, but I confess that I cannot
easily perceive with what kings especially I should connect the actions of their lives.
For, while Esther is said to have lived under King Artaxerxes, I find that there were two
Persian kings of that name, and there is much hesitation in concluding to which of these
her date is to be assigned. However, it has seemed preferable to me to connect the history
of Esther with that Artaxerxes under whom Jerusalem was restored, because it is not likely
that, if she had lived under the former Artaxerxes, whose times Esdras has given an
account of, he would have made no mention of such an illustrious woman. This is all the
more convincing since we know that the building of the temple was (as we have related
above) prohibited by that Artaxerxes and Esther would not have allowed that had she then
been united with him in marriage. But I will now repeat what things she accomplished.
There was at that time a certain Vastis connected with the king in marriage, a woman of
marvelous beauty. Being accustomed to extol her loveliness to all, he one day, when he was
giving a public entertainment, ordered the queen to attend for the purpose of exhibiting
her beauty. But she, more prudent than the foolish king, and being too modest to make a
show of her person before the eyes of men, refused compliance with his orders.

2 His savage mind was enraged by this insult, and he drove her forth, both from her
condition of marriage with him and from the palace. Consequently, when a young woman was
sought niger to take her place as the wife of the king, Esther was found to excel all
others in beauty. She being a Jewess of the tribe of Benjamin, and an orphan, without
father or mother, had been brought up by her cousin-german, Mardochaeus us. On being
espoused to the king, she, by the instructions of him who had brought her up, concealed
her nation and fatherland, and was also admonished by him not to become forgetful of her
ancestral traditions, nor, though as a captive she had entered into marriage with a
foreigner, to take part in the food of the heathen. Thus, then, being united to the king,
she, in a short time, as was to be expected, easily captivated his whole mind by the power
of her beauty, so that, equalizing her with himself in the emblem of sovereign power, he
presented her with a purple robe.

CHAPTER XIII.

1 At this time, Mardochaeus was among those nearest to the king, having entirely under his
charge the affairs of the household. He had made known to the king a plot which had been
formed by two eunuchs, and, on that account, had become a greater favorite, while he was
presented with the highest honors. There was at that period one Human, a very confidential
friend of the king, whom he had made equal to himself and, after the manner of sovereign
rulers, had ordered to be worshiped. Mardochaeus being the one man among all who refused
to do that, had greatly kindled the wrath of the Persian against himself. Accordingly,
Haman setting his mind to work the ruin of the Hebrew, went to the king, and affirmed that
there was in his kingdom a race of men of wicked superstitions, and hateful alike to God
and men. He said that, as they lived according to foreign laws, they deserved to be
destroyed; and that it was a righteous thing to hand over the whole of this nation to
death. At the same time, he promised the king immense wealth out of their possessions. The
barbarous prince Was easily persuaded, and an edict was issued for the slaughter of the
Jews, while men were at once sent out to publish it through the whole kingdom from India
even to Ethiopia.

2 When Mardochaeus heard of this, he rent his clothes, clothed himself in sackcloth,
scattered ashes upon his head, and, going to the palace, he there made the whole place
resound with his wailing and complaints, crying out that it was an unworthy thing that an
innocent nation should perish, while there existed no ground for its destruction. Esther's
attention was attracted by the voice of lamentation, and she learned how the case really
stood. But she was then at a loss what step she should take (for, according to the custom
of the Persians, the queen is not permitted access to the king, unless she has been sent
for, and indeed is not admitted at any time the king may please, but only at a fixed
period); and it happened at the time, that by this rule, Esther was held as separated from
the presence of the king for the next thirty days. However, thinking that she ought to run
some risk in behalf of her fellow-countrymen, even should sure destruction await her, she
was prepared to encounter death in such a noble cause, and, after having called upon God,
she entered the court of the king. But the barbarian, though at first amazed at this
unusual occurrence, was gradually won over by female blandishments, and at length went so
far as to accompany the queen to a banquet which she had prepared. Along with him also
went Human, the favorite of the king, but a deadly enemy of the nation of the Jews.

3 Well, when after the feasting the banquet began to become jovial through the many cups
which were drank, Esther cast herself down at the knees of the king, and implored him to
stay the destruction which threatened her nation. Then the king promised to refuse nothing
to her entreaties, if she had any further request to make. Esther at once seized the
opportunity, and demanded the death of Human as a satisfaction to her nation, which he had
desired to see destroyed. But the king could not forget his friend, and hesitating a
little, he withdrew for a short time for the purpose of considering the matter. He then
returned, and when he saw Human grasping the knees of the queen, excited with rage, and,
crying out that violence was being applied to the queen, he ordered him to be put to
death. It then came to the knowl- edge of the king that a cross had been got ready by
Haman on which Mardochaeus was to suffer. Thus, Haman was fixed to that very cross, and
all his goods were handed over to Mardochaeus, while the Jews at large were set free.
Artaxerxes reigned sixty and two years, and was succeeded by Ochus.

CHAPTER XIV.

1 To this series of events it will be right that I should append an account of the doings
of Judith; for she is related to have lived after the captivity, but the sacred history
has not revealed who was king of the Persians in her day. It, however, calls the king
under whom her exploits were performed by the name of Nabuchodonosor, and that was
certainly not the one who took Jerusalem. But I do not find that any one of that name
reigned over the Persians after the captivity, unless it be that, on account of the wrath
and like endeavors which he manifested, any king acting so was styled Nabuchodonosor by
the Jews. Most persons, however, think that it was Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, on this
ground that he, as a conqueror, penetrated into Egypt and Ethiopia. But the sacred history
is opposed to this opinion; for Judith is described as having lived in the twelfth year of
the king in question. Now, Cambyses did not possess the supreme power for more than eight
years. Wherefore, if it is allowable to make a conjecture on a point of history, I should
be inclined to believe that her exploits were performed under king Ochus, who came after
the second Artaxerxes. I found this conjecture on the fact that (as I have read in profane
histories) he is related to have been by nature cruel and l fond of war.

2 For he both engaged in hostilities with his neighbors, and recovered by wars Egypt,
which had revolted many years before. At that time, also, he is related to have ridiculed
the sacred rites of the Egyptians and Apis, who was regarded by them as a god; a thing
which Baguas, one of his eunuchs, an Egyptian by nation, and indignant at the king's
conduct, afterwards avenged by the death of the king, considering that the king had
insulted the race to which he belonged. Now, the inspired history makes mention of this
Baguas; for, when Holofernes by the order of the king led an army against the Jews, it has
related that Baguas was among the host. Wherefore, not without reason may I bring it
forward in proof of the opinion I have expressed that that king who was named
Nabuchodonosor was really Ochus, since profane historians have related that Baguas lived
in his reign. But this ought not to be felt at all remarkable by any one, that mere
worldly writers have not touched on any of those points which are recorded in the sacred
writings. The spirit of God thus took care that the history should be strictly confined
within its own mysteries, unpolluted by any corrupt mouth, or that which mingled truth
with fiction. That history being, in fact, separated from the affairs of the, world, and
of a kind to be expressed only in sacred words, clearly ought not to have been mixed up
with other histories, as being on a footing of equality with them.

3 For it would have been most unbecoming that this history should be commingled with
others treating of other things, or pursuing different inquiries. But I will now proceed
to what remains, and will narrate in as few words as I can the acts performed by Judith.

CHAPTER XV.

1 The Jews, then, having returned, as we have narrated above, to their native land, and
the condition of their affairs and of their city being not yet properly settled, the king
of the Persians made war on the Medes, and engaged in a successful battle against their
king, who was named Arhaxad. That monarch being slain, he added the nation to his empire.
He did the same to other nations, having sent before him Holofernes whom he had appointed
master of his host, with a hundred and twenty thousand foot-soldiers, and twelve thousand
cavalry. He, after having ravaged in war, Cilicia and Arabia, took many cities by force,
or compelled them through fear to surrender. And now the army, having moved on to
Damascus, had struck the Jews with great terror. But as they were unable to resist, and
as, at the same time, they could not bring their minds to acquiesce in the thought of
surrender, since they had previously known from experience the miseries of slavery, they
betook themselves in crowds to the temple. There, with a general groaning and commingled
wailing, they implored the divine assistance; saying that they had been sufficiently
punished by God for their sins and offenses; and begging him to spare the remnant of them
who had recently been delivered from slavery. In the meantime, Holofernes had admitted the
Moabites to surrender, and joined them to himself as allies in the war against the Jews.

2 He inquired of their chief men what was the power on which the Hebrews relied in not
bringing their minds to submit to the thought of submission. In reply, a certain man
called Achior stated to him the facts, viz.: that the Jews being worshipers of God, and
trained by their fathers to pious observances, had formerly passed through a period of
slavery in Egypt, and that, brought out from that country by the divine aid, and having
passed over on foot the sea which was dried up before them, they had at last conquered all
the opposing nations, and recovered the territory inhabited by their ancestors. That
subsequently, with various fluctuations in their affairs, they had either prospered Or the
reverse, that, when they did sink into adversity, they had again escaped from their
sufferings, finding that God was, in turn, either angry against them, or reconciled
towards them, according to their deserts, so that, when they sinned, they were chastised
by the attacks of enemies or by being sent into captivity, but were always unconquerable
when they enjoyed the divine favor. So then, if at the present time they are free from
guilt, they cannot possibly be subdued; but if they are otherwise situated, they will
easily be conquered.

3 Upon this, Holofernes, flushed with many victories, and thinking that everything must
give way before him, was roused to wrath, because victory on his part was regarded as
principally depending on the sin of the Jews, and ordered Achior to be pushed forward into
the camp of the Hebrews, that he might perish in company with those who he had affirmed
could not be conquered. Now, the Jews had then made for the mountains; and those to whom
the business had been assigned, proceeded to the foot of the mountains, and there left
Achior in chains. When the Jews perceived that, they freed him from his bonds and
conducted him up the hill. On their inquiring the reason of what had happened, he
explained it to them, and, being received in peace, awaited the result. I may add that,
after the victory, he was circumcised and became a Jew. Well, Holofernes, perceiving the
difficultyof the localities, because he could not reach the heights, surrounded the
mountains with soldiers, and took the greatest pains to cut off the Hebrews from all water
supplies. On that account, they felt all the sooner the misery of a siege. Being therefore
overcome through want of water, they went in a company to Ozias, their leader, all
inclined to make a surrender. But he replied that they should wait a little, and look for
the divine assistance, so that the time of surrender was fixed for the fifth day
afterwards.

CHAPTER XVI.

1 When this became known to Judith (a widow woman of great wealth, and remarkable for
beauty, but still more distinguished for her virtue than her beauty), who was then in the
camp, she thought that, in the distressed circumstances of her people, some bold effort
ought to be made by her, even though it should lead to her own destruction. She therefore
decks her head and beautifies her countenance, and then, attended by a single maid-
servant, she enters the camp of the enemy. She was immediately conducted to Holofernes,
and tells him that the affairs of her countrymen weredesperate, so that she had taken
precautions for her life by flight. Then she begs of the general the right of a free
egress from the camp during night, for the purpose of saying her prayers. That order was
accordingly given to the sentinels and keepers of the gates. But when by the practice of
three days she had established for herself the habit of going out and returning, and had
also in this way inspired belief in he into the barbarians, the desire took possession of
Holofernes of abusing the person Of his captive; for, being of surpassing beauty, she had
easily impressed the Persian. Accordingly, she was conducted to the tent of the general by
Baguas, the eunuch; and, commencing a banquet, the barbarian stupefied himself with a
great deal of wine. Then, when the servants Withdrew, before he offered violence to the
woman, he fell asleep.

2 Judith, seizing the opportunity, cut off the head of the enemy and carried it away with
her. Being regarded as simply going out of the camp according to her usual custom, she
returned to her own people in safety. On the following day the Hebrews held forth for show
the head of Holofernes from the heights; and, making a sally, marched upon the camp of the
enemy. And then the barbarians assemble in crowds at the tent of their general, waiting
for the signal of battle. When his mutilated body was discovered, they turned to flight
under the influence of a disgraceful panic, and fled before the enemy. The Jews, for their
part, pursued the fugitives, and after slaying many thousands, took possession of the camp
and the booty within it. Judith was extolled with the loftiest praises, and is said to
have lived one hundred and five years. If these things took place, as we believe, under
king Ochus, in the twelfth year of his reign, then from the date of the restoration of
Jerusalem up to that war there elapsed two and twenty years. Now Ochus reigned in all
twenty-three years. And he was beyond all others cruel, and more than of a barbarous
disposition. Baguas, the eunuch, took him off by poison on an occasion of his suffering
from illness. After him, Arses his son held the government for three years, and Darius for
four.

CHAPTER XVII.

Against him Alexander of Macedon engaged in war. And on his being conquered, the sovereign
power was taken from the Persians, after having lasted, from the time of its establishment
by Cyrus, two hundred and fifty years. Alexander, the conqueror of almost all nations, is
said to have visited the temple at Jerusalem, and to have conveyed gifts into it; and he
proclaimed throughout the whole territory which he had reduced under his sway that it
should be free to the Jews living in it to return to their own country. At the end of the
twelfth his reign, and seven years after he had conquered Darius, he died at Babylon. His
friends who, along with him, had carried on those very important wars, divided his empire
among themselves. For some time they administered the charges they had undertaken without
making use of the name of king, while a certain Arridaeus Philippus, the brother of
Alexander, reigned, to whom, being of a very weak character, the sovereignty was nominally
and in appearance given, but. the real power was in the hands of those who had divided
among themselves the army and the provinces. And indeed this state of things did not long
continue, but all preferred that they should be called by the name of kings. In Syria
Seleucus was the first king after Alexander, Persia and Babylon being also subject to his
sway. At that time the Jews paid an annual tribute of three hundred talents of silver to
the king; but they were governed not by foreign magistrates but by their own priests. And
they lived according to the fashions of their ancestors until very many of them. again
corrupted by a long peace, began to mingle all things with seditions, and to create
disturbances, while they aimed at the high-priesthood under the influence of lust,
avarice, and the desire of power.

CHAPTER XVIII.

1 For, first of all, under king Seleucus, the son of Antiochus the great, a certain man
called Simon accused to the king on false charges Onias the priest, a holy and uncorrupted
man, and thus tried, but in vain, to overthrow him. Then, after an interval of time,
Jason, the brother of Onias, went to Antiochus the king, who had succeeded his brother
Seleucus, and promised him an increase of tribute, if the high-priesthood were transferred
to him. And although it was an unusual, and indeed, until now, an unpermitted thing for a
man to enjoy the high-priesthood year after year, still the eagermind of the king,
diseased with avarice, was easily persuaded. Accordingly, Onias was driven from office,
and the priesthood bestowed on Jason. He harassed his countrymen and his country in the
most shameful manner. Then, as he had sent through a certain Menelaus (the brother of that
Simon who has been mentioned) the money he had promised to the king, a way being once laid
open to his ambition, Menelaus obtained the priesthood by the same arts which Jason had
employed before. But not long after, as he had not furnished the promised amount of money,
he was driven from his position, and Lysimachus substituted in his stead. Then there arose
disgraceful conflicts between Jason and Menelaus, until Jason, as an exile, left the
country. By examples like these, the morals of the people became corrupted to such an
extent, that numbers of the natives begged permission from Antiochus to live after the
fashion of the Gentiles.

2 And when the king granted their request, all the most worthless vied with each other in
their endeavors to construct temples, to sacrifice to idols, and to profane the law. In
the meantime, Antiochus returned from Alexandria (for he had then made war upon the king
of Egypt, which, however, he gave up by the orders of the senate and Roman people, when
Paulus and Crassus were consuls), and went to Jerusalem. Finding the people at variance
from the diverse superstitions they had adopted, he destroyed the law of God, and showed
favor to those who followed impious courses, while he carried off all the ornaments of the
temple, and wasted it with much destruction. That came to pass in the hundred and fiftieth
year after the death of Alexander, Paulus and Crassus being, as we have said, consuls,
about five years after Antiochus began to reign.


THE SACRED HISTORY
==================

THE SACRED HISTORY continued

CHAPTER IX.

1 But that the order of the dates may be correctly preserved, and that it may appear more
clearly who this Antiochus was, we shall enumerate both the names and times of the kings
who came after Alexander in Syria. Well, then, king Alexander having died, as we have
related above, his whole empire was portioned out by his friends, and was governed for
some time by them under the name of the king. Seleucus, after the lapse of nine years, was
himself styled king in Syria, and reigned thirty-two years. After him came Antiochus, his
son, with a reign of twenty-one years. Then came Antiochus, the son of Antiochus, who was
surnamed Theus, and he reigned fifteen years. After him, his son Seleucus, surnamed
Callinicus, reigned twenty-one years. Another Seleucus, the son of Callinicus, reigned
three years. After his death Antiochus, the brother of Callinicus, held Asia and Syria for
thirty-seven years. This is the Antiochus against whom Lucius Scipio Asiaticus made
war;and he, being worsted in the war was stripped of a part of his empire. He had two
sons, Seleucus and Antiochus, the latter of whom he had given as a hostage to the Romans.
Thus, then, Antiochus the great having died; his younger son Seleucus obtained the
kingdom, under whom, as we have said, Onias the priest had an accusation brought against
him by Simon. Then Antiochus was set free by the Romans, and there was given in his place
as hostage Demetrius, the son of Seleucus, who was at that time reigning.

2 Seleucus dying in the twelfth year of his reign, his brother Antiochus, who had been a
hostage at Rome, seized the kingdom. He, five years after the beginning of his reign, did,
as we have shown above, lay waste Jerusalem. For, as he had to pay a heavy tribute to the
Romans, he was almost of necessity compelled, in order to meet that enormous expense, to
provide himself with money by rapine, and to neglect no opportunity of plundering. Then,
after two years, the Jews being again visited by a similar disaster to that which they had
suffered before, lest it should happen that, driven on by their numerous miseries, they
should commence war, he placed a garrison in the citadel. Next, with the view of
overturning the holy law, he published an edict, that all, forsaking the traditions of
their ancestors, should live after the manner of the Gentiles. And there were not wanting
those who readily obeyed this profane enactment. Then truly there was a horrible spectacle
presented; through all the cities sacrifices were publicly offered in the streets, while
the sacred volumes of the law and the prophets were consumed with fire.

CHAPTER XX.

AT that time, Matthathias, the son of John, was high-priest. When he was being forced by
the servants of the king to obey the edict, with marvelous courage he set at naught the
profane enactments, and slew, in the presence of all, a Hebrew who was publicly performing
profane acts. A leader having thus been found, rebellion at once took place. Matthathias
left the town; and as many flocked to him, he got up the appearance of a regular army. The
object of every man in that host was to defend himself by arms against a profane
government, and rather even to fall in war than to take part in impious ceremonies. In the
meantime, Antiochus was compelling those Jews who were found in the Greek cities in his
dominions to offer sacrifice, and was visiting with unheard-of torments those who refused.
At this time, there occurred that well-known and remarkable suffering of the seven
brothers and their mother. All of the brothers, when they were being forced to violate the
law of God, and the customs of their ancestors, preferred rather to die. At last, their
mother, too, accompanied them both in their sufferings and death.

CHAPTER XXI.

1 In the meantime, Matthathias dies, having appointed in his own place his son Judah, as
general of the army which he had brought together. Under his leadership, several
successful battles took place against the royal forces. For first of all, he destroyed,
along with his whole army, Apollonius, the enemy's general, who had entered on the
conflict with a large number of troops. When a certain man, named Seron, who was then the
ruler of Syria, heard of this, he increased his forces, and attacked Judah with much
spirit as being superior innumbers, but when a battle took place, he wasrouted and put to
flight; and with the loss of nearly eight hundred men, he returned to Syria. On this
becoming known to Antiochus, he was filled with rage and regret, inasmuch as it vexed him
that his generals had been conquered, notwithstanding their large armies. He therefore
gathers aid from his whole empire, and bestows a donative on the soldiers, almost to the
exhaustion of his treasury. For he was then suffering in a very special manner from the
want of money. The reason of this was, on the one side, that the Jews, who had been
accustomed to pay him an annual tribute of more than three hundred talents of silver, were
now in a state of rebellion against him; and on the other side, that many of the Greek
cities and countries were unsettled by the evil of persecution.

2 For Antiochus had not spared even the Gentiles, whom he had sought to persuade to
abandon their long-established superstitions, and to draw over to one kind of religious
observance. And no doubt, those of them who regarded nothing as sacred, easily were
induced to give up their ancient forms of worship, but at the same time all were in a
state of alarm and disaster. For these reasons, then, the taxes had ceased to be paid.
Boiling with wrath on these grounds (for he who had of old been the richest of kings now
deeply felt the poverty due to his own wickedness), he divided his forces with Lysias, and
committed to him Syria and the war against the Jews, while he himself set out against the
Persians, to collect the taxes among them. Lysias, then, selected Ptolemy, Gorgias, Doro,
and Nicanor, as generals in the war; and to these he gave forty thousand infantry, and
seven thousand cavalry. At the first onset these caused great alarm among the Jews. Then
Judah, when all were in despair, exhorted his men to go with courageous hearts to battle-
that, if they put their trust in God, everything would give way before them; for that
often before then the victory had been won by a few fighting against many. A fast was
proclaimed, and sacrifice was offered, after which they went down to battle. The result
was that the forces of the enemy were scattered, and Judah, taking possession of their
camp, found in it both much gold and Tyrian treasures.

3 For merchants from Syria, having no doubt as to victory, had followed the king's army
with the hope of purchasing prisoners, and now were themselves spoiled. When these things
were reported to Lysias by messengers, he got together troops with still greater efforts,
and in a year after again attacked the Jews with an enormous army; but being defeated, he
retreated to Antioch.

CHAPTER XXII.

Judah, on the defeat of the enemy, returned to Jerusalem, and bent his mind on the
purification and restoration of the temple, which having been overthrown by Antiochus, and
profaned by the Gentiles, presented a melancholy spectacle. But as the Syrians held the
citadel, which being connected with the temple, but standing above it in position, was
really impregnable, the lower parts proved inaccessible, as frequent sallies from above
prevented persons from approaching them. But Judah placed against these assailants a very
powerful body of his men. Thus the work of the sacred building was protected, and the
temple was surrounded with a wall, while armed men were appointed to maintain a perpetual
defence. And Lysias, having again returned into Judaea with increased forces, was once
more defeated with a great loss both of his own army and of the auxiliaries, which being
sent to him by various states had combined with him in the war. In the meantime,
Antiochus, who, as we have said above, had marched into Persia, endeavored to plunder the
town of Elymus, the wealthiest in the country, and a temple situated there which was
filled with gold; but, as a multitude flocked together from all sides for the defense of
the place, he was put to flight. Moreover, he received news of the want of success which
had attended the efforts of Lysias. Thus, from distress of mind, he fell into bodily
disease. But as he was then tormented with internal sufferings, he remembered the miseries
which he had inflicted on the people of God, and acknowledged that these evils had
deservedly been sent upon him. Then, after a few days, he died, having reigned eleven
years. He left the kingdom to his son Antiochus, to whom the name of Eupator wasgiven.

CHAPTER XXIII.

1 At that time Judah besieged the Syrians who were posted in the citadel. They, being sore
pressed with famine and want of all things, sent messengers to the king to implore
assistance. Accordingly, Eupator came to their aid with a hundred thousand infantry and
twenty thousand cavalry, while elephants marched in front of his line, causing immense
terror to the onlookers. Then Judah, abandoning the siege, went to meet the king, and
routed the Syrians in the first battle. The king begged for peace, which, because he, with
his treacherous disposition, made a bad use of, vengeance followed his treachery. For
Demetrius, the son of Seleucus, who, we have said above, was handed over as a hostage to
the Romans, when he heard that Antiochus had departed, begged that they would send him to
take possession of the kingdom. And when this was refused to him, he secretly fled from
Rome, came into Syria, and seized the supreme power, having slain the son of Antiochus,
who had reigned one year and six months. It was during his reign that the Jews first
begged the friendship of the Roman people, and alliance with them; and the embassy to this
effect having been kindly received, they were, by a decree of the senate, styled allies
and friends. In the meantime Demetrius was, by means of his generals, carrying on war
against Judah. And first the army was led by a certain man named Bacchides, and by
Alcimus, a Jew; Nicanor, being afterwards placed at the head of the war, fell in battle.

2 Then Bacchides and Alcimus, recovering power, and having increased their forces, fought
against Judah. The Syrians, turning out victorious in that battle, cruelly abused their
victory. The Hebrews elect Jonathan, the brother of Judah, in his place. In the meantime,
Alcimus, after he had fearfully desolated Jerusalem, dies; Bacchides, being thus deprived
of his ally, returns to the king. Then, after an interval of two years, Bacchides again
made war upon the Jews, and being beaten, he begged for peace. This was granted him
certain conditions, to the effect that he should give up the deserters and prisoners,
along with all that he had taken in war.

CHAPTER XXIV.

While these things are going on in Judaea,a certain young man educated at Rhodes, by name
Alexander, gave himself out as being the son of Antiochus (which was false), and assisted
by the power of Ptolemy, king of Alexandria, came into Syria with an army. He conquered
Demetrius in war, and slew him after he had reigned twelve years. This Alexander before he
made war against Demetrius, had formed an alliance with Jonathan, and had presented him
with a purple robe and royal ensigns. For this reason Jonathan had assisted him with
auxiliary forces; and on the defeat of Demetrius, had been the very first to meet him with
congratulations. Nor did Alexander afterwards violate the faith which he had pledged.
Accordingly, in the five years during which he held the chief power, the affairs of the
Jews were peaceful. In these circumstances, Demetrius, the son of Demetrius, who, after
the death of his father, had betaken himself to Crete, at the instigation of Lasthenes,
general of the Cretans, tried by war to recover the kingdom of his, father, but finding
his power unequal to the task, he implored Ptolemy Philometor, king of Egypt, the father-
in-law of Alexander, but who was then on bad terms with his son-in-law, to give him
assistance. But he, induced not so much by the entreaties of the suppliant as by the hope
of seizing Syria, joined his forces with those of Demetrius, and gives him his daughter,
who had been married to Alexander. Against these two Alexander fought a pitched battle.
Ptolemy fell in the fight, but Alexander was defeated; and he was soon afterwards slain,
after he had reigned five, or as I find it stated in many authors, nine years.

CHAPTER XXV.

Drovers having thus obtained the kingdom, treated Jonathan with kindness, made a treaty
with him, and restored the Jews to their own laws. In the meantime, Tryphon, who had
belonged to the party of Alexander, was appointed governor of Syria, to keep him in cheek
by war. Jonathan, on the other hand, descended to battle, formidable with an army of forty
thousand men. Tryphon, when he saw himself unequal to the contest, pretended a desire for
peace, and slew Ptolemais who had been received and invited into friendship with him.
After Jonathan, the chief power was conferred on his brother Simon. He celebrated the
funeral of his brother with great pomp, and built those well-known seven pyramids of most
noble workmanship, in which he buried the remains both of his brothers and of his father.
Then Demetrius renewed his treaty with the Jews; and in consideration of the loss caused
[to them by Tryphon (for after the death of Jonathan he had wasted by war their cities and
territories), he remitted to them their annum tribute forever; for up to that time, they
had paid tribute to the kings of Syria, except when they resisted by force of arms. That
took place in the second year of king Demetrius; and we have noted that, because up to
this year we have run through the times of the Asiatic kings, that the series of dates
being given in order might be perfectly dear. But now we shall arrange the order of events
through the times of those, who were either high-priests or kings among the Jews, up to
the period of the birth of Christ.

CHAPTER XXVI.

1 Well, then, after Jonathan, his brother Simon, as has been said above, ruled over the
Hebrews with the power of high-priest. For that honor was then bestowed upon him both by
his own countrymen and by the Roman people. He began to rule over his countrymen in the
second year of king Demetrius, but eight years afterwards, being deceived by a plot of
Ptolemy, he met his death. He was succeeded by his son John. And he, on the ground that he
had fought with distinction against the Hyrcani, a very powerful nation, received the
surname of Hyrcanus. He died, after having held the supreme power for twenty-six years.
After him, Aristobulus being appointed high-priest, was thefirst of all living after the
captivity to assume the name of king, and to have a crown placed upon his head. At the
close of a year, he died. Then Alexander, his son, who was both king and high-priest,
reigned twenty-seven years; but I have found nothing in his doings worthy of mention,
except his cruelty. He having left two young sons named Aristobulus and Hyrcanus, Salina
or Alexandra, his wife, held the sovereignty for three years. After his decease, frightful
conflicts about the supreme power arose between the two brothers. And first of all,
Hyrcanus held the government; but being by and by defeated by his brother Aristobulus, he
fled to Pompey.

2 That Roman general, having finished the war with Mithridates, and settled Armenia and
Pontus, being, in fact, the conqueror of all the nations which he had visited, desired to
march inwards, and to add all the neighboring regions to the Roman empire. He therefore
inquired into the causes of the war, and the means of obtaining the mastery. Accordingly
he readily received Hyrcanus, and, under his guidance, attacked the Jews; but when the
city was taken and destroyed, he spared the temple. He sent Aristobulus in chains to Rome,
and restored the right of the high-priesthood to Hyrcanus. Settling the tribute to be paid
by the Jews, he placed over them as governor a certain Antipater of Askelon. Hyrcanus held
the chief power for thirty-four years; but while he carried on war against the Parthians,
he was taken prisoner.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Then Herod, a foreigner, the son of Antipater of Askelon, asked and received the
sovereignty of Judaea from the senate and people of Rome. Under him, the Jews began for
the first time to have a foreigner as king. For as now the advent of Christ was at hand,
it was necessary, according to the predictions of the prophets, that they should be
deprived of their own rulers, that they might not look for anything beyond Christ. Under
this Herod, in the thirty-third year of his reign, Christ was born on the twenty-fifth of
December in the consulship of Sabinus and Rufinus. But we do not venture to touch on these
things which are contained in the Gospels, and subsequently in the Acts of the Apostles,
lest the character of our condensed work should, in any measure, detract from the dignity
of the events; and I shall proceed to what remains. Herod reigned four years after the
birth of the Lord; for the whole period of his reign comprised thirty-seven years. After
him, came Archelaus the tetrarch, for eight years, and Herod for twenty-four years. Under
him, in the eighteenth year of his reign, the Lord was crucified, Fufius Geminus and
Rubellius Geminus being consuls; from which date up to the consulship of Stilico, there
have elapsed three hundred and seventy-two years.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

1 Luke made known the doings of the apostles up to the time when Paul was brought to Rome
under the emperor Nero. As to Nero, I shall not say that he was the worst of kings, but
that he was worthily held the basest of all men, and even of wild beasts. It was he who
first began a persecution; and I am not sure but hew will be the last also to carry it on,
if, indeed, we admit, as many are inclined to believe, that he will yet appear immediately
before the coming of Antichrist. Our subject would induce me to set forth his vices at
some length, if it were not inconsistent with the purpose of this work to enter upon so
vast a topic. I content myself with the remark, that he showed himself in every way most
abominable and cruel, and at length even went so far as to be the murderer of his own
mother. After this, he also married a certain Pythagoras in the style of solemn alliances,
the bridal veil being put upon the emperor, while the usual dowry, and the marriage couch,
and wedding torches, and, in short, all the other observances were forthcoming-things
which even in the ease of women, are not looked upon without some feeling of modesty.

2 But as to his other actions, I doubt whether the description of them would excite
greater shame or sorrow.He first attempted to abolish the name of Christian, in accordance
with the fact that vices are always inimical to virtues, and that all good men are ever
regarded by the wicked as casting reproach upon them. For, at that time, our divine
religion had obtained a wide prevalence in the city. Peter was there executing the office
of bishop, and Paul, too, after he had been brought to Rome, on appealing to Caesar from
the unjust judgment of the governor. Multitudes then came together to hear Paul, and
these, influenced by the truth which they were given to know, and by the miracles of the
apostles, which they then so frequently performed, turned to the worship of God. For then
took place the well-known and celebrated encounter of Peter and Paul with Simon. He, after
he had flown up into the air by his magical arts, and supported by two demons (with the
view of proving that he was a god), the demons being put to flight by the prayers of the
apostles, fell to the earth in the sight of all the people, and was dashed to pieces.

CHAPTER XXIX.

1 Is the meantime, the number of the Christians being now very large, it happened that
Rome was destroyed by fire, while Nero was stationed at Antium. But the opinion of all
cast the odium of causing the fire upon the emperor, and he was believed in this way to
have sought for the glory of building a new city. And in fact, Nero could not by any means
he tried escape from the charge that the fire had been caused by his orders. He therefore
turned the accusation against the Christians, and the most cruel tortures were accordingly
inflicted upon the innocent. Nay, even new kinds of death were invented, so that, being
covered in the skins of wild beasts, they perished by being devoured by dogs, while many
were crucified or slain by fire, and not a few were set apart for this purpose, that, when
the day came to a close, they should be consumed to serve for light during the night. In
this way, cruelty tint began to be manifested against the Christians. Afterwards, too,
their religion was prohibited by laws which were enacted; and by edicts openly set forth
it was proclaimed unlawful to be a Christian. At that time Paul and Peter were condemned
to death, the former being beheaded with a sword, while Peter suffered crucifixion. And
while these things went on at Rome, the Jews, not able to endure the injuries they
suffered under the rule of Festus Florus, began to rebel.

2 Vespasian, being sent by Nero against them, with proconsular power, defeated them in
numerous important battles, and compelled them to flee within the walls of Jerusalem. In
the meanwhile Nero, now hateful even to himself from a consciousness of his crimes,
disappears from among men, leaving it uncertain whether or not he had laid violent hands
upon himself: certainly his body was never found. It was accordingly believed that, even
if he did put an end to himself with a sword, his wound was cured, and his life preserved,
according to that which was written regarding him,-"And his mortal wound was healed," -to
be sent forth again near the end of the world, in order that he may practice the mystery
of iniquity.

CHAPTER XXX.

1 So then, after the departure of Nero, Galba seized the government; and ere long, on
Galba being slain, Otho secured it. Then Vitellius from Gaul, trusting to the armies which
he commanded, entered the city, and having killed Otho, assumed the sovereignty. This
afterwards passed to Vespasian, and although that was accomplished by evil means, yet it
had the good effect of rescuing the state from the hands of the wicked. While Vespasian
was besieging Jerusalem, he took possession of the imperial power; and as the fashion is,
he was saluted as emperor by the army, with a diadem placed upon his head. He made his son
Titus, Caesar; and assigned him a portion of the forces, along with the task of continuing
the siege of Jerusalem. Vespasian set out for Rome, and was received with the greatest
favor by the senate and people; and Vitellius having killed himself, his hold of the
sovereign power was fully confirmed. The Jews, meanwhile, being closely besieged, as no
chance either of peace or surrender was allowed them, were at length perishing from
famine, and the streets began everywhere to be filled with dead bodies, for the duty of
burying them could no longer be performed. Moreover, they ventured on eating all things of
the mostabominable nature, and did not even abstain from human bodies, except those which
putrefaction had already laid hold of and thus excluded from use as food. The Romans,
accordingly, rushed in upon the exhausted defenders of the city.

2 And it so happened that the whole multitude from the country, and from other towns of
Judaea, had then assembled for the day of the Passover: doubtless, because it pleased God
that the impious race should be given over to destruction at the very time of the year at
which they had crucified the Lord. The Pharisees for a time maintained their ground most
boldly in defense of the temple, and at length, with minds Obstinately bent on death,
they, of their own accord, committed themselves to the flames. The number of those who
suffered death is related to have been eleven hundred thousand, and one hundred thousand
were taken captive and sold. Titus is said, after calling a council, to have first
deliberated whether he should destroy the temple, a structure of such extraordinary work.
For it seemed good to some that a sacred edifice, distinguished above all human
achievements, ought not to be destroyed, inasmuch as, if preserved, it would furnish an
evidence of Roman moderation, but, if destroyed, would serve for a perpetual proof of
Roman cruelty. But on the opposite side, others and Titus himself thought that the temple
ought specially to be overthrown, in order that the religion of the Jews and of the
Christians might more thoroughly be subverted; for that these religions, although contrary
to each other, had nevertheless proceeded from the same authors; that the Christians had
sprung up from among the Jews; and that, if the root were extirpated, the offshoot would
speedily perish.

3 Thus, according to the divine will, the minds of all being inflamed, the temple was
destroyed, three hundred and thirty-one years ago. And this last overthrow of the temple,
and final captivity of the Jews, by which, being exiles from their native land, they are
beheld scattered through the whole world, furnish a daily demonstration to the world, that
they have been punished on no other account than for the impious hands which they laid
upon Christ. For though on other occasions they were often given over to captivity on
account of their sins, yet they never paid the penalty of slavery beyond a period of
seventy years.

CHAPTER XXXI.

Then, after an interval, Domitian, the son of Vespasian, persecuted the Christians. At
this date, he banished John the Apostle and Evangelist to the island of Patmos. There he,
secret mysteries having been revealed to him, wrote and published his book of the holy
Revelation, which indeed is either foolishly or impiously not accepted by many. And with
no great interval there then occurred the third persecution under Trojan. But he, when
after torture and racking he found nothing in the Christians worthy of death or
punishment, forbade any further cruelty to be put forth against them. Then under Adrian
the Jews attempted to rebel, and endeavored to plunder both Syria and Palestine; but on an
army being sent against them, they were subdued. At this time Adrian, thinking that he
would destroy the Christian faith by inflicting an injury upon the place, set up the
images of demons both in the temple and in the place where the Lord suffered. And because
the Christians were thought principally to consist of Jews (for the church at Jerusalem
did not then have a priest except of the circumcision), he ordered a cohort of soldiers to
keep constant guard in order to prevent all Jews from approaching to Jerusalem. This,
however, rather benefited the Christian faith, because almost all then believed in Christ
as God while continuing in the observance of the law. Undoubtedly that was arranged by the
over-ruling care of the Lord, in order that the slavery of the law might be taken away
from the liberty of the faith and of the church. In this way, Mark from among the Gentiles
was then, first of all, bishop at Jerusalem. A fourth persecution is reckoned as having
taken place under Adrian, which, however, he afterwards forbade to be carried on,
declaring it to be unjust that any one should be put on his trial without a charge being
specified against him.

CHAPTER XXXII.

After Adrian, the churches had peace under the rule of Antoninus Pins. Then the fifth
persecution began under Aurelius, the son of Antoninus. And then, for the first time,
martyrdoms were seen taking place in Gaul, for the religion of God had been accepted
somewhat late beyond the Alps. Then the sixth persecution of the Christians took place
under the emperor Severus. At this time Leonida, the father of Origen, poured forth his
sacred blood in martyrdom. Then, during an interval of thirty-eight years, the Christians
enjoyed peace, except that at the middle of that time Maximinus persecuted the clerics of
some churches. Ere long, under Decius as emperor, the seventh bloody persecution broke out
against the Christians. Next, Valerian proved himself the eighth enemy of the saints.
After him, with an interval of about fifty years, there arose, under the emperors
Diocletian and Maximian, a most bitter persecution which, for ten continuous years, wasted
the people of God. At this period, almost the whole world was stained with the sacred
blood of the martyrs. In fact, they vied with each other in rushing upon these glorious
struggles, and martyrdom by glorious deaths was then much more keenly sought after than
bishoprics are now attempted to be got by wicked ambition. Never more than at that time
was the world exhausted by wars, nor did we ever achieve victory with a greater triumph
than when we showed that we could not be conquered by the slaughters of ten long years.
There survive also accounts of the sufferings of the martyrs at that time which were
committed to writing; but I do not think it suitable to subjoin these lest I should exceed
the limits prescribed to this work.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

1 Well, the end of the persecutions was reached eighty-eight years ago, at which date the
emperors began to be Christians. For Constantine then obtained the sovereignty, and he was
the first Christian of all the Roman rulers. At that time, it is true, Licinius, who was a
rival of Constantine for the empire, had commanded his soldiers to sacrifice, and was
expelling from the service those who refused to do so. But that is not reckoned among the
persecutions; it was an affair of too little moment to be able to inflict any wound upon
the churches. From that time, we have continued to enjoy tranquillity; nor do I believe
that there will be any further persecutions, except that which Antichrist will carry on
just before the end of the world. For it has been proclaimed in divine words, that the
world was to be visited by ten afflictions; and since nine of these have already been
endured, the one which remains must be the last. During this period of time, it is
marvelous how the Christian religion has prevailed. For Jerusalem which had presented a
horrible mass of ruins was then adorned with most numerous and magnificent churches. And
Helena, the mother of the emperor Constantine (who reigned along with her son as Augusta),
having a strong desire to behold Jerusalem, cast down the idols and the temples which were
found there; and in course of time, through the exercise of her royal powers, she erected
churches on the site of the Lord's passion, resurrection, and ascension.

2 It is a remarkable fact that the spot on which the divine footprints had last been left
when the Lord was carried up in a cloud to heaven, could not be joined by a pavement with
the remaining part of the street. For the earth, unaccustomed to mere human contact,
rejected all the appliances laid upon it, and often threw back the blocks of marble in the
faces of those who were seeking to place them. Moreover, it is an enduring proof of the
soil of that place having been trodden by God, that the footprints are still to be seen;
and although the faith of those who daily flock to that place, leads them to vie with each
other in seeking to carry away what had been trodden by the feet of the Lord,yet the sand
of the place suffers no injury; and the earth still preserves the same appearance which it
presented of old, as if it had been sealed by the footprints impressed upon it.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Through the kind efforts of the same queen, the cross of the Lord was then found. It could
not, of course, be consecrated at the beginning, owing to the opposition of the Jews, and
afterwards it had been covered over by the rubbish of the ruined city. And now, it would
never have been revealed except to one seeking for it in such a believing spirit.
Accordingly, Helena having first got information about the place of our Lord's passion,
caused a band of soldiers to be brought to it, while the whole multitude of the
inhabitants of the locality vied with each other in seeking to gratify the desires of the
queen, and ordered the earth to be dug up, and all the adjacent most extensive ruins to be
cleared out. Ere long, as the reward of her faith and labor, three crosses (as of old they
had been fixed for the Lord and the two robbers) were discovered. But upon this, the
greater difficulty of distinguishing the gibbet on which the Lord had hung, disturbed the
minds and thoughts of all, lest by a mistake, likely enough to be committed by mere
mortals, they might perhaps consecrate as the cross of the Lord, that which belonged to
one of the robbers. They form then the plan of placing one who had recently died in
contact with the crosses. Nor is there any delay in carrying out this purpose; for just as
if by the appointment of God, the funeral of a dead man was then being conducted with the
usual ceremonies, and all rushing up took the body from the bier. It was applied in vain
to the first two crosses, but when it touched that of Christ, wonderful to tell, while all
stood trembling, the dead body was shaken off, and stood up in the midst of thoselooking
at it. The cross was thus discovered, and was consecrated with all due ceremony.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Such were the things accomplished by Helena, while, under a Christian prince, the world
had both attained to liberty, and possessed in him an exemplar of faith. But a far more
dreadful danger than all that had preceded fell upon all the churches from that state of
tranquillity. For then the Arian heresy burst forth, and disturbed the whole world by the
error which it instilled. For by means of the two Ariuses, who were the most active
originators of this unfaithfulness, the emperor himself was led astray; and while he
seemed to himself to fulfill a religious duty, he proceeded to a violent exercise of
persecution. The bishops were driven into exile: cruelty was exerted against the clerics;
and even the laity were punished, who had separated from the communion of the Arians. Now,
the doctrines which the Arians proclaimed were of the following nature,-that God the
Father had begotten his Son for the purpose of creating the world; and that, by his power,
he had made out of nothing into a new and second substance, a new and second God; and that
there was a time when the Son had no existence. To meet this evil, a synod was convened
from the whole world to meet at Nicaea. Three hundred and eighteen bishops were there
assembled: the faith was fully set forth in writing; the Arian heresy was condemned; and
the emperor confirmed the whole by an imperial decree. The Arians, then, not daring to
make any further attempt against the orthodox faith, mixed themselves among the churches,
as if they acquiesced in the conclusions which had been reached, and did not hold any
different opinions. There remained, however, in their hearts, a deep-seated hatred against
the Catholics, and they assailed, with suborned accusers and trumped-up charges, those
with whom they could not contend in argument on matters of faith.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

1 Accordingly, they first attack and condemn in his absence Athanasius, bishop of
Alexandria, a holy man, who had been present as deacon at the Synod of Nicaea. For they
added to the charges which false witnesses had heaped up against him, this one, that, with
wicked intentions, he had received Marcellus and Photinus, heretical priests who had been
condemned by a sentence of the Synod. Now, it was not doubtful as to Photinus that he had
been justly condemned. But in the case of Marcellus, it seemed that nothing had then been
found worthy of condemnation, and a belief in his innocence was above all strengthened by
the animus of that party, inasmuch as no one doubted that those same judges were heretical
by whom he had been condemned. But the Arians did not so much desire to get these persons
out of the way as Athanasius himself. Accordingly, they constrain the emperor to go so far
as this, that Athanasius should be sent as an exile into Gaul. But ere long, eighty
bishops, assembling together in Egypt, declare that Athanasius had been unjustly
condemned. The matter is referred to Constantine: he orders bishops from the whole world
to assemble at Sardes, and that the entire process by which Athanasius had been condemned,
should be reconsidered by the council. In the meantime, Constantine dies, but the Synod,
called together while he was yet emperor, acquits Athanasius. Marcellus, too, is restored
to his bishopric, but the sentence on Photinus, bishop of Sirmion, was not rescinded;

2 for even in the judgment of our friends, he is regarded as a heretic. However, even this
result chagrined Marcellus, because Photinus was known to have been his disciple in his
youth. But this, too, tended to secure an acquittal for Athanasius, that Ursatius and
Valens,leading men among the Arians, when they were openly separated from the communion of
the Church after the Synod at Sardes, entering into the presence of Julius, bishop of
Rome, asked pardon of him for having condemned the innocent, and publicly declared that he
had been justly acquitted by the decree of the Council of Sardes.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

1 When, after an interval of some time had elapsed, Athanasius, finding that Marcellus was
by no means sound in the faith, suspended him from communion. And he had this degree of
modesty, that, being censured by the judgment of so great a man, he voluntarily gave way.
But though at a former period innocent, yet confessedly afterwards becoming heretical, it
may be allowed to conclude that he was really then guilty when judgment was pronounced
regarding him. The Arians, then, finding an opportunity of that kind, conspire to subvert
altogether the decrees of the Synod of Sardes. For a certain coloring of right seemed to
be furnished them in this fact, that a favorable judgment had as unjustly been formed on
the side of Athanasius, as Marcellus had been improperly acquitted, since now, even in the
opinion of Athanasius himself, he was deemed a heretic. For Marcellus had stood forward as
an upholder of the Sabellian heresy. But Photinus had already brought forward a new
heresy, differing indeed from Sabellius with respect to the union of the divine persons,
but proclaiming that Christ had his beginning in Mary. The Arians, therefore, with cunning
design, mix up what was harmless with what was blameworthy, and embrace, under the same
judgment, the condemnation of Photinus, and Marcellus, and Athanasius. They undoubtedly
did this with the view of leading the minds of the ignorant to conclude, that those had
not judged incorrectly regarding Athanasius, who, it was admitted, had expressed a well-
based opinion respecting Marcellus and Photinus.

2 At that time, however, the Arians concealed their treachery; and not daring openly to
proclaim their erroneous doctrines, they professed themselves Catholics. They thought that
their first great object should be to get Athanasius turned out of the church, who had
always presented a wall of opposition to their endeavors, and they hoped that, if he were
removed, the rest would pass over to their evil opinion. Now, that part of the bishops
which followed the Arians accepted the condemnation of Athanasius with delight. Another
part, constrained by fear and faction, yielded to the wish of the Arian party; and only a
few, to whom the true faith was dearer than any other consideration, refused to accept
their unjust judgment. Among these was Paulinus, the bishop of Treves. It is related that
he, when a letter on the subject was placed before him, thus wrote, that he gave his
consent to the condemnation of Photinus and Marcellus, but did not approve that of
Athanasius.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

1 But then the Arians, seeing that stratagem did not succeed, determined to proceed by
force. For it was easy for those to attempt and carry out anything who were supported by
the favor of the monarch, whom they had thoroughly Won over to themselves by wicked
flatteries. Moreover, they were by the consent of all unconquerable; for almost all the
bishops of the two Pannonias, and many of the Eastern bishops, and those throughout all
Asia, had joined in their unfaithfulness. But the chief men in that evil company were
Ursatius of Singidunum, Valens of Mursa, Theodorus of Heraclia, Stephanus of Antioch,
Acatius of Caesarea, Menofantus of Ephesus, Georgius of Laodicia, and Narcissus of
Neronopolis.These had got possession of the palace to such an extent that the emperor did
nothing without their concurrence. He was indeed at the beck Of all of them, but was
especially under the influence of Valens. For at that time, when a battle was fought at
Mursa against Magnentius, Constantius had not the courage to go down to witness for
himself the conflict, but took up his abode in a church of the martyrs which stood outside
the town, Valens who was then the bishop of the place being with him to keep up his
courage. But Valens had cunningly arranged, through means of his agents, that he should be
the first to be made acquainted with the result of the battle.

2 He did this either togain the favor of the king, if he should be thefirst to convey to
him good news, or with a view to saving his own life, since he would obtain time for
flight, should the issue prove unfortunate. Accordingly, the few persons who were with the
king being in a state of alarm, and the emperor himself being a prey to anxiety, Valens ·
was the first to announce to them the flight of the enemy. When Constantius requested
thatthe person who had brought the news should be introduced to his presence, Valens, to
increase the reverence felt for himself, said that an angel was the messenger who had come
to him. The emperor, who was easy of belief, was accustomed afterwards openly to declare
that he had won the victory through the merits of Valens, and not by the valor of his
army.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

1 From this first proof that the prince had been won over to their side, the Arians
plucked up their courage, knowing that they could make use of the power of the king, when
they could make little impression by their own authority. Accordingly, when our friends
did not accept of the judgment which they had pronounced in regard to Athanasius, an edict
was issued by the emperor to the effect that those who did not subscribe to the
condemnation of Athanasius should be sent into banishment. But, at that time, councils of
bishops were held by our friends at Aries and Bitterae, towns situated in Gaul. They
requested that before any were compelled to subscribe against Athanasius, they should
rather enter on a discussion as to the true faith; and maintained that only then was a
decision to be come to respecting the point in question, when they had agreed as to the
person of the judges. But Valens and his confederates not venturing on a discussion
respecting the faith, first desired to secure by force the condemnation of Athanasius.
Owing to this conflict of parties, Paulinus was driven into banishment. In the meantime,
an assembly was held at Milan, where the emperor then was; but the same controversy was
there continued without any relaxation of its bitterness. Then Eusebius, bishop of the
Vercellenses, and Lucifer, bishop of Caralis in Sardinia, were exiled.

2 Dionysius, however, priest of Milan,subscribed to the condemnation of Athanasius, on the
condition that there should be an investigation among the bishops as to the true faith.But
Valens and Ursatius, with the rest of that party, through fear of the people, who
maintained the Catholic faith with extraordinary enthusiasm, did not venture to set forth
in public their monstrous doctrines, but assembled within the palace. From that place, and
under the name of the emperor, they issued a letter full of all sorts of wickedness, with
this purpose, no doubt, that, if the people gave it a favorable hearing, they should then
bring forward, under public authority, the things which they desired; but if it I should
be received otherwise, that all the ill feeling might be directed against the king, while
his mistake might be regarded as excusable, because being then only a catechumen, he might
readily be supposed to have erred concerning the mysteries of the faith. Well, when the
letter was read in the church, the people expressed their aversion to it. And Dionysius,
because he did not concur with them, was banished from the city, while Auxentius was
immediately chosen as bishop in his place. Liberius, too, bishop of the city of Rome, and
Hilarius, bishop of Poictiers, were driven into exile. Rhodanius, also, bishop of Toulouse
(who, being by nature of a sorer disposition, had resisted the Arians, not so much from
his own powers as from his fellowship with Hilarius) was involved in the samepunishment.

3 All these persons, however, were prepared to suspend Athanasius from communion, only in
order that an inquiry might be instituted among the bishops as to the true faith. But it
seemed best to the Arians to withdraw the most celebrated men from the controversy.
Accordingly, those whom we have mentioned above were driven into exile, forty-five years
ago, when Arbitio and Lollianus were consuls. Liberius, however, was, a little afterwards,
restored to the city, in consequence of the disturbances at Rome. But it is well known
that the persons exiled were celebrated by the admiration of the whole world, and that
abundant supplies of money were collected to meet their wants, while they were visited by
deputies of the Catholic people from almost all the provinces.

CHAPTER XL.

1 IN the meantime, the Arians, not secretly, as before, but openly and publicly proclaimed
their monstrous heretical doctrines. Moreover, they interpreted after their own views the
Synod of Nicaea, and by the addition of one letter to its finding, threw a sort of
obscurity over the truth. For where the expression Homoousion had been written, which
denotes "of one substance," they maintained that it was written Homoiousion, which simply
means "of like substance. They thus granted a likeness, but took away unity; for likeness
is very different from unity; just as, for illustration's sake, a picture of a human body
might be like a man, and yet possess nothing of the reality of a man. But some of them
went even farther, and maintained Anomoiousia, that is, an unlike substance. And to such a
pitch did these controversies extend, that the wide world was involved in these monstrous
errors.For Valens and Ursatius, with their supporters,whose names we have stated,infected
Italy,Illyria, and the East with these opinions. Saturninus, bishop of Arles, a violent
and factious man, harassed our country of Gaul in like manner. There was also a prevalent
belief that Osius from Spain had gone over to the same unfaithful party, which appears all
the more wonderful and incredible on this account, that he had been, almost during his
whole life, the most determined upholder of our views, and the Synod of Nice was regarded
as having been held at his instigation.

2 If he did go over, the reason may have been that in his extreme old age (for he was then
more than a centenarian, as St. Hilarius relates in his epistles) he had fallen into
dotage. While the world was disturbed by these things, and the churches were languishing
as if from a sort of disease, an anxiety, less exciting indeed, but no less serious,
pressed upon the emperor, that although the Arians, whom he favored, appeared the
stronger, yet there was still no agreement among the bishops concerning the faith.

CHAPTER XLI.

1 Accordingly, the emperor orders a Synod to assemble at Ariminum, a city of Italy, and
instructs Taurus the prefect, not to let them separate, after they were once assembled,
until they should agree as to one faith, at the same time promising him the consulship, if
he carried the affair to a successful termination. Imperial officers, therefore, being
sent through Illyria, Italy, Africa, and the two Gauls, four hundred and rather more
Western bishops were summoned or compelled to assemble at Ariminum; and for all of these
the emperor had ordered provisions and lodgings to be provided. But that appeared unseemly
to the men of our part of the world, that is, to the Aquitanians, the Gauls, and Britons,
so that refusing the public supplies, they preferred to live at their own expense. Three
only of those from Britain, through want of means of their own, made of the public bounty,
after having refused contributions offered by the rest; for they thought it more dutiful
to burden the public treasury than individuals. I have heard that Gavidius, our bishop,
was accustomed to refer to this conduct in a censuring sort of way, but I would be
inclined to judge far otherwise; and I hold it matter of admiration that the bishops had
nothing of their own, while they did not accept assistance from others rather than from
the public treasury, so that they burdened nobody. In both points, they thus furnished us
with noble example. Nothing worthy of mention is recorded of the others;

2 but I return to the subject in hand. After all the bishops had been collected together,
as we have said, a separation of parties took place. Our friends take possession of the
church, while the Arians select, as a place for prayer, a temple which was then
intentionally standing empty. But these did not amount to more than eighty persons: the
rest belonged to our party. Well, after frequent meetings had been held, nothing was
really accomplished, our friends continuing in the faith, and the others not abandoning
their unfaithfulness. At length it was resolved to send ten deputies to the emperor, that
he might learn what was the faith or opinion of the parties, and might know that there
could be nO peace with heretics. The Arians do the same thing, and send a like number of
deputies, who should contend with our friends in the presence of the emperor. But on the
part of our people, young men of but little learning and little prudencehad been selected;
while, on the side of theArians, old men were sent, skillful and abounding in talent,
thoroughly imbued, too, with their old unfaithful doctrines; and these easily got the
upper hand with the prince. But our friends had been specially charged not to enter into
any kind of communion with the Arians, and to reserve every point, in its entirety, for
discussion l in a Synod.

CHAPTER XLII.

1 IN the meantime in the East, after the example of the West, the emperor ordered almost
all the bishops to assemble at Seleucia, a town of Isauria. At that time, Hilarius, who
was now spending the fourth year of his exile in Phrygia, is compelled to be present among
the other bishops, the means of a public conveyance being furnished to him by the
lieutenant and governor. As, however, the emperor had given no special orders regarding
him, the judges, simply following the general order by which they were commanded to gather
all bishops to the council, sent him also among the rest who were willing to go. This was
done, as I imagine, by the special ordination of God, in order that a man who was most
deeply instructed in divine things, might be present when a discussion was to be carried
on respecting the faith. He, onarriving at Seleucia, was received with great favor, and
drew the minds and affections of all towards himself. His first inquiry was as to the real
faith of the Gauls, because at that time the Arians had spread evil reports regarding us,
and we were held suspected by the Easterns as having embraced the belief of Sabellius, to
the effect that the unity of the one God was simply distinguished by a threefold name. But
after he had set forth his faith in harmony with those conclusions which had been reached
by the fathers at Nicaea, he bore his testimony in favor of the Westerns.

2 Thus the minds of all having been satisfied, he was admitted to communion, and being
also received into alliance, was added to the council. They then proceeded to actual work,
and the originators of the wicked heresy being discovered, were separated from the body of
the Church. In that number were Georgius of Alexandria, Acacius, Eudoxius, Vranius,
Leontius, Theodosius, Evagrius, Theodulus. But when the Synod was over, an embassy was
appointed to go to the emperor and make him acquainted with what had been done. Those who
had been condemned also went to the prince, relying upon the power of their confederates,
and a common cause with the monarch.

CHAPTER XLIII.

1 IN the meantime, the emperor compels those deputies of our party who had been sent from
the council at Ariminum to join in communion with the heretics. At the same time, he hands
them a confession of faith which had been drawn up by these wicked men, and which, being
expressed in deceptive terms, seemed to exhibit the Catholic faith, while unfaithfulness
secretly lay hid in it. For under an appearance of false reasoning, it abolished the use
of the word Ousia as being ambiguous, and as having been too hastily adopted by the
fathers, while it rested upon no Scriptural authority. The object of this was that the Son
might not be believed to be of one substance with the Father. The same confession of faith
acknowledged that the Son was like the Father. But deception was carefully prepared within
the words, in order that he might be like, but not equal. Thus, the deputies being sent
away, orders were given to the prefect that he should not dissolve the Synod, until all
professed by their subscriptions their agreement to the declaration of faith which had
been drawn up; and if any should hold back with excessive obstinacy, they should be driven
into banishment, provided their number did not amount to fifteen. But when the deputies
returned, they were refused communion, although they pleaded the force which had
beenbrought to bear upon them by the king. For when it was discovered what had been
decreed, greater disturbance arose in their affairs and purposes.

2 Then by degrees numbers of our people, partly overcome through the weakness of their
character, and partly influenced by the thought of a weary journeying into foreign
lands,surrendered to the opposite party. These werenow, on the return of the deputies, the
stronger of the two bodies, and had taken possession of the church, our friends being
driven out of it. And when the minds of our people once began to incline in that
direction, they rushed in flocks over to the other side, until the number of our friends
was diminished down to twenty.

CHAPTER XLIV.

1 But these, the fewer they became, showed themselves all the more powerful; as the most
steadfast among them was to be reckoned our friend Foegadius, and Servatio, bishop of the
Tungri. As these had not yielded to threats and terrors, Taurus assails them with
entreaties, and beseeches them with tears to adopt milder counsels. He argued that the
bishops were now in the seventh month since they had been shut up within one city-that no
hope of returning home presented itself to them, worn out by the inclemency of winter and
positive want; and what then would be the end? He urged them to follow the example of the
majority, and to derive authority for so doing at least from the numbers who had preceded
them. For Foegadius openly declared that he was prepared for banishment, and for every
kind of punishment that might be assigned him, but would not accept that confession of
faith which had been drawn up by the Arians. Thus several days passed in this sort of
discussion. And when they made little progress towards a pacification, by degrees
Foegadius began to yield, and at the last was overcome by a proposal which was made to
him. For Valens and Ursatius affirmed that the present confession of faith was drawn up on
the lines of Catholic doctrine, and having been brought forward by the Easterns at the
instigation of the emperor, could not be rejected without impiety;

2 and what possible end of strife could there be if a confession which satisfied the
Easterns was rejected by those of the West? Finally, if there appeared anything less fully
stated in the present confession than was desirable, they themselves should add what they
thought ought to be added, and that they, for their part, would acquiesce in those things
which might be added. This friendly profession was received with favorable minds by all.
Nor did our people venture any longer to make opposition, desiring as they did in some way
or other now to put an end to the business. Then confessions drawn up by Foegadius and
Servatio began to be published; and in these first Arius and his whole unfaithful scheme
was condemned, while the Son of God also was pronounced equal to the Father, and without
beginning, [that is] without any commencement in time. Then Valens, as if assisting our
friends, subjoined the statement (in which there lurked a secret guile) that the Son of
God was not a creature like the other creatures; and the deceit involved inthis
declaration escaped the notice of the heariers. For in these words, in which the Son was
denied to be like the other creatures, he was nevertheless pronounced a creature, only
superior to the rest. Thus neither party could hold that it had wholly conquered or had
wholly been conquered, since the confession itself was in favor of the Arians, but the
declarations afterwards added were in favor of our friends.

3 That one, however, must be excepted which Valens had subjoined, and which, not being at
the time understood, was at length comprehended when it was too late. In this way, at any
rate, the council was brought to an end, a council which had a good beginning but a
disgraceful conclusion.

CHAPTER XLV.

1 Thus, then, the Arians, with their affairs in a very flourishing condition, and
everything turning out according to their wishes, go in a body to Constantinople where the
emperor was. There they found the deputies from the Synod of Seleucia, and compel them by
an exercise of the royal power to follow the example of theWesterns, and accept that
heretical confession of faith. Numbers who refused were tortured with painful imprisonment
and hunger, so that at length they yielded their conscience captive. But many who resisted
more courageously, being deprived of their bishoprics, were driven into exile, and others
substituted in their place. Thus, the best priests being either terrified by threats, or
driven into exile, all gave way before the unfaithfulness of a few. Hilarius was there at
the time, having followed the deputies from Seleucia; and as no certain orders had been
given regarding him, he was waiting on the will of the emperor to see whether perchance he
should be ordered to return into banishment. When he perceived the extreme danger
intowhich the faith had been brought, inasmuch as the Westerns had been beguiled, and the
Easterns were being overcome by means of wickedness, he, in three papers publicly
presented, begged an audience of the king, in order that he might debate on points of
faith in the presence of his adversaries. But the Arians opposedthat to the utmost extent
of their ability.

2 Finally, Hilarius was ordered to return to Gaul, as being a sower of discord, and a
troubler of the East, while the sentence of exile against him remained uncanceled. But
when he had wandered over almost the whole earth which was in- fected with the evil of
unfaithfulness, his mind was full of doubt and deeply agitated with the mighty burden of
cares which pressed upon it. Perceiving that it seemed good to many not to enter into
communion with those who had acknowledged the Synod of Ariminum, he thought thebest thing
he could do was to bring back all to repentance and reformation. In frequent councils
within Gaul, and while almost all the bishops publicly owned the error that had been
committed, he condemns the proceedings at Ariminum, and frames anew the faith of the
churches after its pristine form. Saturninus, however, bishop of Arles, who was, in truth,
a very bad man, of an evil and corrupt character, resisted these sound measures. He was,
in fact, a man who, besides the infamy of being a heretic, was convicted of many
unspeakable crimes, and cast out of the Church. Thus, having lost its leader, the strength
of the party opposed to Hilarius was broken. Paternus also of Petrocorii, equally
infatuated, and not shrinking from openly professing unfaithfulness, was expelled from the
priesthood: pardon was extended to the others. This fact is admitted by all, that our
regions of Gaul were set free from the guilt of heresy through the kind efforts of
Hilarius alone.

3 But Lucifer, who was then at Antioch held a very different opinion. For he condemned
those who assembled at Ariminum to such an extent, that he even separated himself from the
communion of those who had received them as friends, after they had made satisfaction or
exhibited penitence. Whether this resolution of his was fight or wrong, I will not take
upon me to say. Paulinus and Rhodanius died in Phrygia; Hilarius died in his native
country in the sixth year after his return.

CHAPTER XLVI.

1 There follow the times of our own day, both difficult and dangerous. In these the
churches have been defiled with no ordinary evil, and all things thrown into confusion.
For then, for the first time, the infamous heresy of the Gnostics was detected in Spain-a
deadly superstition which concealed itself under mystic rites. The birthplace of that
mischief was the East, and specially Egypt, but from what beginnings it there sprang up
and increased is not easy to explain. Marcus was the first to introduce it into Spain,
having set out from Egypt, his birthplace being Memphis. His pupils were a certain Agape,
a woman of no mean origin, and a rhetorician named Helpidius. By these again Priscillian
was instructed, a man of noble birth, of great riches, bold, restless, eloquent, learned
through much reading, very ready at debate and discussion-in fact, altogether a happy man,
if he had not ruined an excellent intellect by wicked studies. Undoubtedly, there were to
be seen in him many admirable qualities both of mind and body. He was able to spend much
time in watchfulness, and to endure both hunger and thirst; he had little desire for
amassing wealth, and he was most economical in the use of it. Put at the same time he was
a very vain man, and was much more puffed up than he ought to have been with the knowledge
of mere earthly things: moreover, it was believed that he had practised magical arts from
his boyhood.

2 He, after having himself adopted the pernicious system referred to, drew into its
acceptance many persons of noble rank and multitudes of the common people by the arts of
persuasion and flattery which he possessed. Besides this, women who were fond of novelties
and of unstable faith, as well as of a prurient curiosity in all things, flocked to him in
crowds. It increased this tendency that he exhibited, a kind of humility in his
countenance and manner, and thus excited in all a greater honor and respect for himself.
And now by degrees the wasting disorder of that heresy had pervaded the most of Spain, and
even some of the bishops came under its depraving influence. Among these, Instantius and
Salvianus had taken up the cause of Priscillian, not only by expressing their concurrence
in his views, but even by binding themselves to him with a kind of oath. This went on
until Hyginus, bishop of Cordova, who dwelt in the vicinity, found out how matters stood,
and reported the whole to Ydacius, priest of Emerita. But he, by harassing Instantius and
his confederates without measure, and beyond what the occasion called for, applied, as it
were, a torch to the growing conflagration, so that he rather exasperated than suppressed
these evil men.

CHAPTER XLVII.

1 So, then, after many controversies among them, which are not worthy of mention, a Synod
was assembled at Saragossa, at which even the Aquitanian bishops were present. But the
heretics did not venture to submit themselves to the judgment of the council; sentence,
however, was passed against them in their absence, and Instantius and Salivanus, bishops,
with Helpidius and Priscillian, laymen, were condemned. It was also added that if any one
should admit the condemned persons to communion, he should understand that the same
sentence would be pronounced against himself. And the duty was entrusted to Ithacius,
bishop of Sossuba, of seeing that the decree of the bishops was brought to the knowledge
of all, and that Hyginus especially should be excluded from communion, who, though he had
been the first to commence open proceedings against the heretics, had afterwards fallen
away shamefully and admitted them to communion. In the meantime, Instantius and Salvianus,
having been condemned by the judgment of the priests, appoint as bishop in the town of
Aries, Priscillian, a layman indeed, but the leader in all these troubles, and who had
been condemned along with themselves in the Synod at Saragossa. This they did with theview
of adding to their strength, doubtless imagining that, if they armed with sacerdotal
authority a man of bold and subtle character, theywould find themselves in a safer
position. But then Ydacius and Ithacius pressed forward their measures more ardently, in
the belief that themischief might be suppressed at its beginning.

2 With unwise counsels, however, they applied to secular judges, that by their decrees and
prosecutions the heretics might be expelled from the cities. Accordingly, after many
disgraceful squabbles, a rescript was, on the entreaty of Ydacius, obtained from
Gratianus, who was then emperor, in virtue Of which all heretics were enjoined not only to
leave churches or cities, but to be driven forth beyond all the territory under his
jurisdiction. When this edict became known, the Gnostics, distrusting their own affairs,
did not venture to oppose the judgment, but those of them who bore the name of bishops
gave way of their own accord, while fear scattered the rest.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

And then Instantius, Salvianus, and Priscillian set out for Rome, in order that before
Damasus who was at that time the bishop of the city, they might clear themselves of the
charges brought against them. Well, their journey led them through the heart of Aquitania,
and being there received with great pomp by such as knew no better, they spread the seeds
of their heresy. Above all, they perverted by their evil teachings the people of Elusa,
who were then of a good and religious disposition. They were driven forth from Bordeaux by
Delfinus, yet lingering for a little while in the territory of Euchrotia, they infected
some with their errors. They then pursued the journey on which they had entered, attended
by a base and shameful company, among whom were their wives and even strange women. In the
number of these was Euchrotia and her daughter Procula, of the latter of whom there was a
common report that, when pregnant through adultery with Priscillian, she procured abortion
by the use of certain plants. When they reached Rome with the wish of clearing themselves
before Damasus, they were not even admitted to his presence. Returning to Milan, they
found that Ambrose was equally opposed to them. Then they changed their plans, with the
view that, as they had not got the better of the two bishops, who were at that time
possessed of the highest authority, they might, by bribery and flattery, obtain what they
desired from the emperor. Accordingly, having won over Macedonius, who was the master of
public services, they procured a rescript, by which, those decrees which had formerly been
made being trampled under foot, they were ordered to be restored to their churches.
Relying upon this, Instantius and Priscillian made their wayback to Spain (for Salvianus
had died in the city); and they then, without any struggle, recovered the churches over
which they had ruled.

CHAPTER XLIX.

1 But the power, not the will, to resist, failed Ithacius; for the heretics had won over
by bribes Voluentius, the proconsul, and thus consolidated their own power. Moreover,
Ithacius was put on his trial, by these men as being a disturber of the churches, and he
having been ordered as the result of a fierce prosecution, to be carried off as a
prisoner, fled in terror into Gaul, where he betook himself to Gregory the prefect. He,
after he learned what had taken place, orders the authors of these tumults to be brought
before himself, and makes a report on all that had occurred to the emperor, in order that
he might close against the heretics every means of flattery or bribery. But that was done
in vain; because, through the licentiousness and power of a few, all things were there to
be purchased. Accordingly, the heretics by their artifices, having presented Macedonius
with a large sum of money, secure that, by the imperial authority, the hearing of the
trial was taken from the prefect, and transferred to the lieutenant in Spain. By that
time, the Spaniards had ceased to have a proconsul as ruler, and officials were sent by
the Master to bring back to Spain Ithacius who was then living at Treves. He, however,
craftily escaped them, and being subsequently defended by the bishop Pritannius, he set
them at defiance. Then, too, a faint rumor had spread that Maximus had assumed imperial
power in Britain, and would, in a short time, make an incursion into Gaul.

2 Accordingly, Ithacius then resolved, although his affairs were in a ticklish state, to
wait the arrival of the new emperor; and that, in the meantime, no step should on his part
be taken. When therefore Maximus, as victor, entered the town of the Treveri, he poured
forth entreaties full of ill-will and accusations against Priscillian and his
confederates. The emperor influenced by these statements sent letters to the prefect of
Gaul and to the lieutenant in Spain, ordering that all whom that disgraceful heresy had
affected should be brought to a Synod at Bordeaux. Accordingly, Instantius and Priscillian
were escorted thither and, of these, Instantius was enjoined to plead his cause; and after
he was found unable to dear himself, he was pronounced unworthy of the office of a bishop.
But Priscillian, in order that he might avoid being heard by the bishops, appealed to the
emperor. And that was permitted to be done through the want of resolution on the part of
our friends, who ought either to have passed a sentence even against one who resisted it,
or, if they were regarded as themselves suspicious persons, should have reserved the
hearing for other bishops, and should not have transferred to the emperor a cause
involving such manifest offences.

CHAPTER L.

1 Thus, then, all whom the process embraced were brought before the king. The bishops
Ydacius and Ithacius followed as accusers; and I would by no means blame their zeal in
overthrowing heretics, if they had not contended for victory with greater keenness than
was fitting. And my feeling indeed is, that the accusers were as distasteful to me as the
accused. I certainly hold that Ithacius had no worth or holiness about him. For he was a
bold, loquacious, impudent, and extravagant man; excessively devoted to the pleasures of
sensuality. He proceeded even to such a pitch of folly as to charge all those men, however
holy, who either took delight in reading, or made it their object to vie with each other
in the practice of fasting, with being friends or disciples of Priscillian. The miserable
wretch even ventured publicly to bring forward a disgraceful charge of heresy against
Martin, who was at that time a bishop, and a man clearly worthy of being compared to the
Apostles. For Martin, being then settled at Treves, did not cease to importune Ithacius,
that he should give up his accusations, or to implore Maximus that he should not shed the
blood of the unhappy persons in question. He maintained that it was quite sufficient
punishment that, having been declared heretics by a sentence of the bishops, they should
have been expelled from the churches; and that it was, besides, a foul and unheard-of
indignity, that a secular ruler should be judge in an ecclesiastical cause.

2 And, in fact, as long as Martin survived, the trial was put off; while, when he was
about to leave this world, he, by his remarkable influence, obtained a promise from
Maximus, that no cruel measure would be resolved on with respect to the guilty persons.
But subsequently, the emperor being led astray by Magnus and Rufus, and turned from the
milder course which Martin had counseled, entrusted the case to the prefect Evodius, a man
of stern and severe character. He tried Priscillian in two assemblies, and convicted him
of evil conduct. In fact, Priscillian did not deny that he had given himself up to lewd
doctrines; had been accustomed to hold, by night, gatherings of vile women, and to pray in
a state of nudity. Accordingly, Evodius pronounced him guilty, and sent him back to
prison, until he had time to consult the emperor. The matter, then, in all its details,
was reported to the palace, and the emperor decreed that Priscillian and his friends
should be put to death.

CHAPTER LI.

1 But Ithacius, seeing how much ill-will it would excite against him among the bishops, it
he should stand forth as accuser also at the last trial on a capital charge (for it was
requisite that the trial should be repeated), withdrew from the prosecution. His cunning,
however, in thus acting was in vain, as the mischief was already accomplished. Well, a
certain Patricius, an advocate connected with the treasury, was then appointed accuser by
Maximus. Accordingly, under him as prosecutor, Priscillian was condemned to death, and
along with him, Felicissimus and Armenius, who, when they were clerics, had lately adopted
the cause of Priscillian, and revolted from the Catholics. Latronianus, too, and Euchrotia
were beheaded. Instantius, who, as we have said above, had been condemned by the bishops,
was transported to the island of Sylina which lies beyond Britain. A process was then
instituted against the others in trials which followed, and Asarivus, and Aurelius the
deacon, were condemned to be beheaded, while Tiberianus was deprived of his goods, and
banished to the island of Sylina. Tertullus, Potamius, and Joannes, as being persons of
less consideration, and worthy of some merciful treatment, inasmuch as before the trial
they had made a confession, both as to themselves and their confederates, were sentenced
to a temporary banishment into Gaul. In this sort of way, men who were most unworthy of
the light of day, were, in order that they might serve as a terrible example to others,
either put to death or punished with exile.

2 That conduct which he had at first defended by his right of appeal to the tribunals, and
by regard to the public good, Ithacius, harassed with invectives, and at last overcome,
threw the blame of upon those, by whose direction and counsels he had effected his object.
Yet he was the only one of all of them who was thrust out of the episcopate. For Ydacius,
although less guilty, had voluntarily resigned his bishopric: that was wisely and
respectfully done, had he not afterward spoiled the credit of such a step by endeavoring
to recover the position which had been lost. Well, after the death of Priscillian, not
only was the heresy not suppressed, which, under him, as its author, had burst forth, but
acquiring strength, it became more widely spread. For his followers who had previously
honored him as a saint,subsequently began to reverence him as a martyr. The bodies of
those who had been put to death were conveyed to Spain, and their funerals were celebrated
with great pomp. Nay, it came to be thought the highest exercise of religion to swear by
Priscillian. But between them and our friends, a perpetual war of quarreling has been kept
up. And that conflict, after being sustained for fifteen years with horrible dissension,
could not by any means be set at rest. And now all things were seen to be disturbed and
confused by the discord, especially of the bishops, while everything was corrupted by them
through their hatred, partiality, fear, faithlessness, envy, factiousness, lust, avarice,
pride, sleepiness, and inactivity.

3 In a word, a large · number were striving with insane plans and obstinate inclinations
against a few giving wise counsel: while, in the meantime, the people of God, and all the
excellent of the earth were exposed to mockery and insult.


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Where each text comes from, and the licence under which it may be reused.

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY (GREEK) English translation: an older public-domain translation as
collected in the Writings-Database (HistoricalChristianFaith), mostly from the Ante-
Nicene, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers and similar nineteenth-century editions.
SermonIndex has only divided it into chapters and short sections; the wording is the
translator’s own. No Greek or Latin text is shown beside it yet, and no modern English
version has been made. Licence: Public domain.

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK ONE English translation by E. A. Wallis Budge,
from The Paradise, or Garden of the Holy Fathers , translated from the Syriac by E. A.
Wallis Budge, volume 1 (London: Chatto & Windus, 1907); public domain. The text was read
by machine (Mistral OCR) from a scan of the 1907 edition from the University of Toronto
library at the Internet Archive and has not been proofread against the printed book.
SermonIndex has removed running heads and page numbers, joined words split across lines,
and divided the text into chapters and short sections; the wording is the translator’s
own. Footnotes and the editor’s introduction are left out. No original-language text is
shown beside it, and no modern English version has been made. Licence. The translation was
published in 1907 and is in the public domain. Licence: Public domain.

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, SYRIAC VERSION, BOOK TWO English translation by E. A. Wallis Budge,
from The Paradise, or Garden of the Holy Fathers , translated from the Syriac by E. A.
Wallis Budge, volume 1 (London: Chatto & Windus, 1907); public domain. The text was read
by machine (Mistral OCR) from a scan of the 1907 edition from the University of Toronto
library at the Internet Archive and has not been proofread against the printed book.
SermonIndex has removed running heads and page numbers, joined words split across lines,
and divided the text into chapters and short sections; the wording is the translator’s
own. Footnotes and the editor’s introduction are left out. No original-language text is
shown beside it, and no modern English version has been made. Licence. The translation was
published in 1907 and is in the public domain. Licence: Public domain.

THE LAUSIAC HISTORY, BOHAIRIC COPTIC VERSION The Coptic text was edited and translated by
the Coptic SCRIPTORIUM project and is published in its open corpora
(https://github.com/CopticScriptorium/corpora). English translation credited in the corpus
to: Émile Amélineau, Nicholas Wagner. SermonIndex has joined the project’s sentence-by-
sentence translations into paragraphs, divided them into short sections and numbered them;
the wording is the translators’ own. Square brackets and dots mark damaged or missing
places in the manuscript. The Coptic text itself is not shown here; documents of the
corpus that have no named English translation are not included. Licence. These
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if you credit the translators and the Coptic SCRIPTORIUM project. Licence: CC BY 4.0.

THE LIFE OF SAINT MARTIN English translation: an older public-domain translation as
collected in the Writings-Database (HistoricalChristianFaith), mostly from the Ante-
Nicene, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers and similar nineteenth-century editions.
SermonIndex has only divided it into chapters and short sections; the wording is the
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LETTERS English translation: an older public-domain translation as collected in the
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Post-Nicene Fathers and similar nineteenth-century editions. SermonIndex has only divided
it into chapters and short sections; the wording is the translator’s own. No Greek or
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DIALOGUES English translation: an older public-domain translation as collected in the
Writings-Database (HistoricalChristianFaith), mostly from the Ante-Nicene, Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers and similar nineteenth-century editions. SermonIndex has only divided
it into chapters and short sections; the wording is the translator’s own. No Greek or
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THE SACRED HISTORY English translation: an older public-domain translation as collected in
the Writings-Database (HistoricalChristianFaith), mostly from the Ante-Nicene, Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers and similar nineteenth-century editions. SermonIndex has only divided
it into chapters and short sections; the wording is the translator’s own. No Greek or
Latin text is shown beside it yet, and no modern English version has been made. Licence:
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