Treatise on Voluntary Poverty

permits inequality to exist. It decides to help him who is afflicted in poverty, and it sets before the King, God, a soldier perfect in virtues, as if he were whole in limb. For, by those who recruit soldiers, the age of the body ^A is examined; and he who is found lacking in any respect is removed from the register or the rolls, and is altogether unapproved by God. For he who is not perfect and absolute in all that is fitting, by neglecting a single good thing, disgraces the beautiful form of his other right actions. Whence we must strive equally for all the virtues, and all must be observed alike; if indeed the goal is to adorn the image according to the exemplar, and to shine brightly with divine graces, and not with the stains that destroy the beauty of the soul. For he who, according to the Apostle, has fulfilled the whole law, but has stumbled in one point, has become guilty of all; he is rightly stumbling in the remainder of the law regarding perfection, ^B which we should strive to attain for the glory of God, who bestows all things upon all. Amen. "Be ye therefore perfect," says the Savior, "as your heavenly Father is perfect." To Him be glory unto the ages. Amen. ^C

OF OUR BLESSED FATHER NILUS

To the most venerable Magna, deaconess of Ancyra

TRACTATE ON VOLUNTARY POVERTY

CHAPTER I.

Lately, when writing a tractate to those who lead the monastic life rather negligently, we rebuked them severely, showing how far they had departed from apostolic diligence, while they are held fast by the pursuit of these futile possessions, and are no less enmeshed in the distractions of providing for themselves than those who live burning with the love of riches. But now, since it behooves us both to praise the zeal of you who have observed the rule of poverty inviolate as it was from the beginning, and [the zeal] of those who have kept it in accordance with you, it is necessary to speak of those things which clearly urge those who love the lawful way of life toward the pursuit of this [poverty], and

^A lead them to the election of duty. For just as the condemnation of vice, by suffusing with shame those who are caught in it, converts them to repentance for the better, so the praise of what is good excites even those who are inclined to be sluggish toward its appropriation, enticing them with the desire for fame, and drawing them eagerly to itself, before they have considered with prudent reasoning the pointlessness of human affairs; so that they may behold the genuinely useful glory with which God adorns those who cultivate piety, ^B both making them manifest now by rewarding them with the recompense for their labors, and crowning them at the time of judgment before all rational nature, when, judging justly for each, He shall render not according to the mistaken opinion held here, but as the truth of what has been done purely is. For if, to those who have compassionately pitied a fellow-creature worn away by need, He says: "Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you," how shall He not address with the same words those who took little care for the flesh—only as much as the necessity of living demanded—but spent the greater part of their time assiduously in the occupation of the soul, and made it their care that it should stand pure and undefiled by sordid thoughts before Him who is about to judge the hidden things of the heart, and to examine the reasonings, how they stand in relation to each of the disturbing passions, whether of attachment or alienation? For they—those who have been compassionate toward their kin—and these—who have been inclined toward the philosophy of the soul—are equally worthy of acceptance before the Judge. For just as the merciful are not grieved when their wealth is diminished by daily distribution, but rather rejoice in what they have spent upon the needy, so too desire for present things does not weigh upon those who possess nothing; rather, it makes them leap for joy, ^C because they hold in contempt what are esteemed as valuable by others, and because, being freed from the occupation of vain things, they attend with free reasoning to the practice of all things that are better, observing a cessation of those things whose slavery many have chosen, useless and unprofitable.

CAPUT II.

^D Let no one imagine that the achievement of poverty is something free from labor and attained with ease. For by poverty we do not now mean involuntary poverty, which, occurring through necessity, afflicts the mind, considering the unwanted as a burden, but the voluntary and chosen [poverty], by which one chooses to be content with few things; accomplished by the authority of reason, yet providing labor for it in the meantime, until exercise, becoming a habit, shows that to be tolerable which for a long time seemed difficult and impossible to perform. For in the same way, an elegant appearance of the body and the splendid material of wealth excite desire for attachment, and each requires a noble soul, and

^A it is in need of robust sides, so that it may not yield to those tickling sensations, nor cling to the captivating allurement of them, which is accustomed to bend toward consent even the minds that seem firmly established. But those are truly praiseworthy and worthy of admiration who now pursuing the mediocrity of poverty, are not carried away along with those who possess much by any widespread, credulous levity of thoughts, nor have they bound their mind with empty cares. For all things that do not befit the unstable easily produce a zeal for imitation; but especially bodily luxury, because it possesses great aptitude for pleasure and for human honor. Since long habit has taught those who think foolishly to consider the wealthy blessed, who receive glory in their opulence and ambitiously luxuriate in its apparatus. Therefore, it is necessary to judge them truly great and to call them noble, just as those who have emerged as victors in the wrestling ground from the contesting thoughts—which, of course, are plausibly struggling and contending here and there with persuasive gestures—[as those who have] successfully declined to assent to the opinions of the many, and to give the vote of approval to what merely appear to be good things, as if they were truly good; and not to refuse things that are judged by common opinion to be worthy of honor, nor to flee from the possession of those things which were set forth by the Creator for use, nor with the swelling of a feigned philosophy to refute the possession which truly and not in vain contributes to life. For these are truly proven athletes, neither yielding the center to their adversaries, nor driven from their trenches, because they cannot be apprehended through the middle, for they have safely strengthened their hamstrings in right judgment; nor have they been bent towards undertaking ^B earthly materials, nor do they deem a life that is in no way versatile and rather confused [to be worthy]; but with a moderate diet, they have honestly composed for themselves a life removed from every disturbance. For the mind, not being sufficient to bear the care of many things, does not afford the intellect space to grasp the plans befitting the soul; but when freed from business impediments, it clearly perceives what is useful, and in this opportune ease it is fearlessly delighted—because, having loosed itself from the manifold necessities of the worldly bonds of this life, when it becomes expedient, it performs what is best, not hindered in any way, but is inclined with the best impulse toward those things, by none of the cares of many materials, which are wont to beset one as if by a siege.

CHAPTER III

^C Very much, indeed, are those worthy of admiration, and superior to every eulogy of praise that we could speak, who surpass these in diligence, and are within the bounds of perfect poverty even more than they: because they also draw those who now are to emulation, having embraced the imitation, and they deliver themselves from senseless pride in the good things they perform, studying to walk in their footsteps, and not to fall short of their abandonment. But as for the source, just as to excel in virtue those who promote arrogance and conceit, so too [the source of not...]

^A should one keep the mind restrained, that it be not ensnared by those things in which it is overcome, nor puffed up by those in which it seems to make progress. Yet no one of those who are now reaches, or has reached, the virtue of the holy ancients, whose life is recorded as that of men without a home, without a hearth, and without clothing, always wandering from place to place, feeding gladly on whatever food occurred to them, sleeping wherever and however chance would have it, and—not, as in the present time, honoring or watching over those who plot against and persecute them—but rather counting many such enemies. For Paul sets these forth when he describes them in his words: "They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, they were slain by the sword; they wandered about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented, of whom the world was not worthy" (Heb. XI, 37, 38). For even if someone of those who are now imagines that he has an equal honor to theirs in his purpose, and in his works ^B seems equally to have emulated them, he is deficient in the cultivation and study of that virtue in which they underwent danger, grasping for the subsequent glory of their labors as a consolation, which those blessed ones were entirely deprived of, finding only the provisions of persecution and the guise of cruel deaths in place of praise. They had no roof, no storehouse, no bed, no table; their clothing was sheepskins and hair; their food was the chance provision of the passing day, with no care taken for the morrow. For they anticipated, according to their philosophical purpose, the exhortation of the Lord, in which He says: "Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap, nor gather into barns, and your heavenly Father feeds them" (Matth. VI, 26). And again: "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither labor nor spin." They knew ^C that the things necessary for the body's need ought to follow, whenever the opportunity to please God who provides these things is present, and when the possession of the kingdom of heaven is sought primarily.

CHAPTER IV.

But for us, long-lasting food is prepared, and clothing appropriate to the seasons; and a house defending against cold and heat, and similarly from every injury; nor is the possession of money and lands and other superfluous material neglected. And where are our things equal to theirs, they to whom the desire of bodily imagination brought no hindrance, but some pure longing for divine things, lifting them up on high, always persuaded ^D them to lay aside the memory of those things deemed brilliant on earth? They had nothing on earth except the body, which nature held down, heavy by its very creation and difficult to transport to the upward path, since they desired to have even that with them where they dwelt in their minds, understanding the goods that are in heaven, and in no way torn away from the delight and convenience that is there, unless nature turned them back to the necessity of the body, forced (due to the bond that fastened them) to take care of it, and neither the change

^A of its service, having well passed by the occasion, considering the time which he spent on the work of higher things, knowing that he will find there that labor permanent, which has been spent for the profit of the soul, not that which proceeded to the care of the body’s healing; having comforted the necessity at the time of need, and after the need being non-existent—useful yesterday, and today not present. ^B

CAPUT V.

For such is the use of the body: fleeting and passing by, neither providing for the past in the present, nor for the present in the future, healing only what is at hand, and useless for the want that is to follow. But the labor of virtue is seed for endless fruit, and in the work itself it gladdens the conscience with the expectation of enjoyment, and after the migration from here is found to be well-fitting, and useful for eternal gladness; nor does it have the past as useless, unless the irrational passion of vainglory empties out whatever it has collected. And that which has not yet been brought to work, having come into a firm intention, is counted equally with those things already performed; since what has been judged and accepted is believed to be truly fulfilled by the already unfailing promises. For even if it did not have time suitable for action, having been studied by the mind and not having been able to proceed to the work, truth judges ^C so justly that even that which was done for the pleasure of men is judged an action altogether complete, which would have been perfect, as the desire was, had not some necessity prevented it from proceeding to the goal. And indeed it was truly just, and worthy of the divine verdict judging in the secret places, that the reward be offered to the ready will, for the sake of which that work was diligently sought, and towards which the goal looked from the beginning to the end, not having been transmuted from one thing to another. For opposites are often cut off from opposites, and what is proposed passes into the opposite order: when that which was done for the glory of men is corrected by a wise reason as having useless labor, and that which is proposed for the sake of the good itself, upon the arrival of a glory-loving thought, no longer follows the previous goal, but is honored by its opposite, and altogether changes toward it. For thus ^D thoughts are transferred from worse to better, and from this to the better, from the opposite side, sometimes savingly and sometimes perniciously interchanging with one another toward that which is convenient from diligence, or toward that which is unseemly from the sloth of the will.

CAPUT VI.

Therefore, the Lord speaks, exhorting those who are proceeding to the doing of good: "When you pray, enter into your inner chamber, and having shut the door, pray to your Father in secret." And again: "When you do alms..."

do not trumpet it before you," ^A commanding us to avoid ostentation as something very harmful. The prophet, saying that he who gathers wages has gathered them into a perforated bag, shows how labor is ruined by the corrupted aim of vainglory, running through it like a breached bag, and failing to secure the mind with a moderate disposition. For this ^B is a treasure and a fortification firmly built on all sides, where moth and erosion do not destroy, nor do thieves break through and steal. By moth, the conceit born within is understood, which destroys those goods upon which it subsists, while by the thieves coming from without are meant praises that insult and, in their madness and puffery, suddenly snatch away the treasures gathered by much labor of virtue. For just as the moth consumes the material from which it derived its existence, and thieves digging into a wall carry off what was gathered with care—so does a thought, once moved towards conceit on account of good works, destroy what has been acquired; and the praises of people who are gathered around and mixed together dig through hollow minds, and allow nothing of the good that has been brought in from outside to remain within, as it is lawfully cast out through the aperture of the ears. But let no one be so overcome by this passion, nor lulled to sleep by the longing for vainglory, as to suffer the total loss of his own labors. Let him keep watch even while it is being dug through, and remove the conspirators before the loss occurs, striking them down in the very act of the thought’s burglary, before the sun clearly rises and turns the thought into action. ^C

CHAPTER VII.

For this is what the law clearly declares: "If a thief is found in a burglary, and being struck he dies, there shall be no murder; but if the sun has risen upon him, it shall be reckoned as murder" (Exod. XXII, 2,3). It shows that lingering among foolish thoughts in the mind, like a nighttime phantasm, obtains pardon. For every robbery of the enemies through a sudden assault is truly a deception, and deserves pardon; but after the sedulous and manifold care of the marauder, and a clear understanding of the one who is doing the harm, punishment naturally and subsequently follows. For the fall is an error of the will, a spontaneous consent, and not an involuntary consequence of ignorance; and one who consents ^D to a manifest evil justly becomes liable, having been bent by a passion in clinging to the enemy, as if to a foe caught in the light of the sun, and not having fought with all his might against this enemy that appeared, so as to strike them down at the very assault of the harmful thoughts—when the burglary was still just beginning—and cast them down dead in the battle. For so he would have led the rest of his life without a struggle, and would have placed the law of delight in the enjoyment of those things, the loss of which he was about to mourn bitterly a moment later. Such was also he who said: "From that very..."

^A mouth of the wild beasts I used to drag out two legs, and the lowest part of the ear, before it could be swallowed; taking these and reclaiming them for himself." For whether it be the reasoning of desire for earthly things, which entangles the feet and for a time prohibits progress toward better things, or speech capable of corrupting good character through the ear, it does not permit these to cause harm, just as it does not allow wild beasts to keep the limbs they have snatched in their gaping mouths; rather, it forestalls their destructive power with a diligent hand and, through vigilance, wards off the violence that is near at hand.

CAPUT VIII.

For he who begins to be held by a passion is no less in danger than he who is in the mouth of a wild beast, ^B so much so that he is nearly taken. Just as he too was nearly devoured, had he not awakened and quickly escaped the impending destruction by fleeing. Whence those who were skilled in the pastoral art, David and Jacob, gloried in their guardianship and exact knowledge concerning it; the former says: "I seized the throat of the bear, and crushed the lion," that is, I restored what was about to be swallowed, unharmed to life. The latter indeed says: "I brought not that which was taken by the beast; I myself paid for the losses of the day and of the night"; allowing none of the irrational and brutal desires to reach the point of deadly activity. But if, indeed, any of those things which ^C are more indifferent, and in which there is no great danger, were sometimes stolen through an elation of mind—for example, if something were said which was not so proper, or were heard from someone else speaking—he would immediately restore what had been stolen from the house, fulfilling with concentrated zeal what had been passed over through error, and making it, through correction, as quickly as possible, to be numbered among his other good works, so that the whole body of virtue might be entire and without blemish, in no way deficient, nor mutilated in those parts which, by their natural form and beauty, contribute to its splendor. But he who was the leader in the choir of the apostles, and always the most outstanding ^D guide among them, Peter, who caught fish with a dragnet and captured living men with grace, points out the wild beast and its insane frenzy for devouring, saying: "Your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour."

CAPUT IX.

Let us learn diligently that, in the first place, one is indeed placed in the lion's mouth through sloth, and is being prepared to be devoured, and is ready for the exit. But in other respects, being negligent or carefully studious, he is constituted the author of one or the other of these; by the authority of his own will, choosing whatever he wishes, he is placed either among the portion of the saved or of the perishing. And for this reason, the great Paul also, clearly discerning the machinations of the enemy, and not ignorant of his arts for the destruction of the simpler ones who, out of much pusillanimity, admit these [arts] with zeal, into the mouth...

^A of the lion, existing as he is, he commands him to be drawn out by exhortation and much consolation, lest (he says) such a one be swallowed up by excessive grief, being near even to emerging from thence, if he should take heart, having been comforted by the solace of those who soothe his despondency, and swallowed up, if he should be overlooked and despair of himself. Since, therefore, the road that leads to the kingdom has such great difficulty, and is narrow, and surrounded on both sides by precipices, what need is there to attempt to travel this road while weighed down with loads of money, or gaping after those who praise or blame [one]? For the cares of material things are distracting; they pull one downward instantly, and the facility for looking toward glory or dishonor makes a fall, whether from this side or that, by providing, through the elation [caused] by whatever [praise], a ready slip, because the eye is not occupied there, where safety demands much care and wants the one who is secure to be vigilant; for with difficulty, even so, does the progress happen without a fall, since great is the difficulty presented by the narrowness and the precipices. For if, according to the Lord’s voice, the road that leads to life is narrow and afflicted, it is altogether fitting that he who travels it be unencumbered and awake, neither weighed down with a burden, and shifting [his weight] while walking, nor fearlessly glancing here and there. For great and exceedingly difficult on both sides is the danger of any random deviation, which would carry one down into the yawning chasm to destruction.

CHAPTER X.

^C Therefore both the Lord and Paul sometimes command the renunciation of possessions, saying: “Do not possess gold, nor silver, nor copper in your purses.” And: “Do not be anxious for the morrow.” And: “Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.” And: “No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in the affairs of life.” Sometimes, however, they advise not to be excited by glory, saying: “When you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, gloomy; for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear to men to be fasting.” And: “When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand praying in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men”; ^D and forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forward to those things which are before. For he who is thus disposed is not so much exalted by the things which are successfully accomplished, as he is humbled by the things in which he falls short of the goal, so that he may be perfected, being anxiously concerned, not turning toward the things that are perfect; since the things which one has [already] performed often puff up the more frivolous toward insanity. But those things which demand to be done restrain the mind with uncertainty as to whether they will have an end, bringing pain before they are done. Whence also the Lord, strengthening those who are tending toward the summit of virtue, lest an empty

pride ensnare them, says: "When you have done all that you have been commanded, say: We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we ought to have done." ^A He encourages them to rejoice, as if for a debt paid, but he does not permit them to think great things of themselves. For what was rendered was a debt, not a voluntary gift; and it is impious for one who makes repayment to Christ to be uplifted and boast as if he were a benefactor, for having gratefully repaid that which, had he been ungrateful, he would have been tortured into paying to the exactor.

CHAPTER XI

The Apostle, however, not only commands that we forget what lies behind, knowing that remembering them makes one prone to boastfulness, but he also commands that we ^B diligently watch against assaults from either side, when he says: "By the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left, through glory and dishonor, through evil report and good report; as deceivers, and yet true." For blame wounds one who is hastening toward perfection no less than praises that puff one up, since it casts down the mind's sense of things and dissolves all high-spiritedness through dejection and sorrow. Therefore, one must run toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly calling, and run worthily, and at the same time without arrogance. For the saying, "So run that you may obtain," ^C makes it possible to attain at long last, even if late, the end that is sought. For the length is great, and one needs wings more than feet for the apprehension. For so he who was persuaded of this said: "Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly away and be at rest?" He vigilantly subjects the fact that the snares from here and there cause distress, for enemies stretch cords for the feet, on the right hand and on the left, devising traps for those who run well, by means of glory and good fame on one side, and dishonor and evil report on the other, and by means of the things of this world that are reprobated, so that, with wiles prepared on all sides, if one should prevail, it may either make one stumble completely, or at least check the course for a short time, so that for a while the progress toward the good is hindered, and one is frustrated of the perfection for which one is zealously striving. ^D For why should things that falsely slander one's reputation cause such sadness? Or why should those that exalt one to wonder cause such delight, and puff one up to dissipation?

CHAPTER XII

For if, by the judgment taken from here, one were to be approved before the incorrupt Judge, it would be well to please men; or who would take care, when he might bring forward the glory derived from that as testimony for the faith of the future, and prove himself not subject to the rendering of an account, from those things which were established by the judges who are here? But if the outward appearance, and the acceptance, and the glory of those who are judged in the present age, and which belong to us, are held in vain, and the naked images of deeds and thoughts stand forth, as clear proofs of base and of noble meditations, and of works...

^A effectuated and judged not from those things which have appeared so to the many, but from those in which truth itself consists. It is a reckless and truly vain endeavor to wish to persuade them of how our affairs stand, for the full assurance of these things profits us nothing before the supreme justice, which sees the things that are, and does not assent to those things which are merely opined. It recognizes the things that have been done, and does not accommodate itself to the advocacy of those who attempt to demonstrate a lie as the truth, and who dispose the judgment of the hearers as they wish by the cleverness of sophisticated arguments—while the facts stand otherwise, and the things that appear present themselves in a deceptive imagination. But where the things which are now brought under observation are transformed, the imagination which appeared clearly yesterday is now, as it were, hiding—not such as it is judged by the many to be—for [the things are] whispered about for commendation or reproach by the many, whose pleasure and delight it is ^B to pry into the affairs of others and to contradict one another when opportunities arise, applying themselves entirely not to what is useful, but to a leisure that is not suitable for all for what is necessary.

CHAPTER XIII.

But since there is a triple way of life: of extreme poverty, the middle path, and that which is material and possessed of much—for there was but one from the beginning, ordained by the Creator and practiced by all alike, free from anxiety and altogether immaterial, which the opinions of men, inclined variously as they were toward various things, afterwards divided into these ^C differences—it is necessary to discourse upon the property of each; and what utility follows for those who participate, or what harm, and what privileges are fitting and are given by Him who legislated the conduct of life for us from the beginning. For this [the first way] will be judged in every way more honorable than the others, and the dignity of the truth will be acknowledged even by the very wicked, even if they show themselves in their works to be contrary, enticed by the bait of fleeting pleasure and not making the choice of what is profitable by reason. For what sort of life was commanded to the first-formed man? "You shall eat," He says, "the grass of the field (Gen. III, 19)." And let no one now stir up plausible reasonings against this, asking ^D whether a bestial diet was fitting for a rational animal; for the authority of Him who commanded it forbids the curiosity of such an investigation. Perhaps indeed it was more profitable to man, and more suitable to the perspicacity sought by those created according to the image of God, than the anxiety that weighs down the intellect—arising from excessive delicacies—and darkens the sharp and sober faculty of the reason. For that these things were so before, let us consider whether it is reasonable, as it seems; for the anxious care of the Creator promises the proof, who always arranges all things for the profit of his creature, and by his indulgence disposes our natures that are more inclined toward the worse...

to that which is useful. For after the transgression and disobedience, he did not abandon him as a rejected and improvident despiser; rather, by another way he corrected the first error, and finally turned those who were raging toward the worship of idols so that they might offer sacrifice to him, and in other ways at other times, as the seasons allowed for each, he accommodated himself to them, and used their untimely inclinations conversely for that which is necessary, just as he wisely changes the pernicious desires of languishing and disordered men toward that which is salutary: this is the work of the highest Providence, sympathizing with the infirmity of those who are governed and providing for them, by which his present power acts even to that extent which is profitable.

CHAPTER XIV.

Immediately, therefore, because he could not bear the satiety of such pre-eminent honor, and was reveling in that indeficient delight, God himself would approach and frequent him (the first man) for daily conversation, since he required consolation of soul due to his solitude and the lack of those who could console him in his leisure. He also committed to his own will the enjoyment of every fruit of the trees that were planted in paradise, commanding him to abstain from only one, not out of envy of tasting it, but even then exercising him in obedience, since there was no other suitable matter for imposing a law, so that he might know—he who was over all other living animals—that he himself was also subject to law, and possessed the commandment of obedience toward the one who commanded as a manifest sign. But in casting him out from the first and least suitable fastidious delights, he did not dismiss him as an unheeding man bereft of care, nor, when he had transgressed the commandment, did he deprive him entirely of his own aid; instead, he again prescribed for him a second life congruent with his state; and since he had not used his leisure in a way that was fitting, he ordered him to procure nourishment by work and labor, since he did not know how, while at rest, to persevere in the obedience of God and abide in his company, as he was passing his time in a vacation from bodily labors. He clothed him in skin tunics, covering at once his nakedness, which then appeared full of shame—which was not the case when he was a guardian of the commandment—and by wordless silence he taught him by the deed itself what garments one ought to use, checking the softness later introduced in clothing by the easily obtainable garment, and by the unadorned clothing he castigated beforehand the luxury that now prevails.

CAPUT XV.

Which way of life, therefore, was more profitable and advantageous to him? Was it that which was established when the law was issued to him? Or that to which he was condemned after he held the commandment in neglect? When he was possessed of every kind of pleasure and the delights of contemplation in paradise, and the enjoyment of various plants? Or when, laboring painfully with the toils of agriculture, he received his nourishment in the sweat of his brow? When he plucked the fruits he desired without anxiety, and gathered them on all sides with his hand,

satisfying his appetite with food for which he had not labored, and consoling himself with naturally seasoned fare? Or when he handled the spade, ^A the mattock, and the sickle, furrowing with a plow the earth that a little before produced necessities of its own accord, sowing, irrigating, reaping, transporting sheaves, threshing, winnowing, cleaning the produce, and after this preparing the wheat, crushing the grain with mill-machinery, grinding, mixing flour with water, baking with fire, and thus eating bread won with much toil? When he heard the friendly words of God, and gladdened his soul through his hearing with ineffable utterances? Or when his ears were battered by the troublesome sounds of bellowing, bleating, and braying? For the former are the characteristics of poverty, the latter of a life of great wealth; the former are prescribed by divine laws, the latter are fashioned by human desires. The former depend upon the hope of God, and have their sufficiency provided by Him throughout; the latter anchor upon vanity, swaying very perilously, and have much kinship with misfortune. ^B

CHAPTER XVI

Experience is the witness of these things, and the events that occur daily render the senses themselves certain that what seemed likely often disappointed expectation, but the care and providence of the Divine have never failed. For who does not know the damages that accompany the cultivation of the land? Who is ignorant of the losses that follow the fruits? Rains, ^C which often nourish them, have likewise maltreated them; the breaths of inopportune winds have either chilled them beyond measure or scorched them, and destroyed them; hail, falling with force, has broken the protruding ear and the crop that had already germinated; torrents from excessive, unregulated rains have swept away produce even while it lay accumulated for threshing, and rendered it utterly useless. The locust, mildew, the caterpillar, and many other creatures in the form of beetles know how to inflict very great harm. I omit mentioning the worms bred in the grain within the storehouses themselves, which render all the labor of agriculture useless. But again, who has not been taught by time the security that is provided by divine Providence? How, when there is need, it provides suitable ^D nourishment to the worshippers of God without labor and without any trouble, and (while those who have used every artifice to rejoice in abundance of food, though rich, waste away in indigence and want) at times, for those who trust in it, it arranges a table prepared miraculously from wherever it wills: sometimes providing the bread not sown, the manna from the unplowed clouds in the desert, at other times bringing up the quail from the sea, at other times pouring forth abundant streams from the dry rock for the thirsty, in order that it may satisfy with generosity the need for both liquid and dry food, and comfort with varied dishes the appetite which is naturally inclined to monotonous diet.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

^A earthly and terrestrial things in such abundance as suffices for a measured enjoyment: to possess nothing in the world, and with authority, when it is necessary, to use the goods thereof; to serve the Creator sincerely, and to gather the creature, as if it were a tribute for what is necessary, exactly as He wills; to reside here, and yet to choose that place for a dwelling where the true dwelling is; to consider nothing that remains here as worthy of effort, but to count as of great importance all those things which contribute toward that destination. The Creator of the world established this mode of life for human beings from the beginning, and by obeying Him in this, all the saints lived; they did not possess the earth, not even the smallest measure, under the title of ownership, and yet they levied tribute from the whole earth, claiming the things necessary for them wherever they happened to be found, as if they were masters. They were not conspicuous among men because of riches or power, and they bowed the wild beasts to reverence by the dignity of their eminent virtue. They had no servile retinue practicing crafts for the pampering of the body, but the parts of creation served their needs. There was no presence of beasts of burden for the transport of supplies, but the ravens themselves brought these things, fulfilling their need more quickly.

CHAPTER XIX

Friends of Christ have striven to become such by the purity of their life, and they have disposed of things in the possessions of the Friend ^C with boldness, as they wished: they commanded the heaven to provide nourishment for those in need, and it brought down manna to them, as it was commanded; at another time they closed it for the instruction of the foolish, and it held back the rain to which they were accustomed for three years and six months, bearing a heavy weight gradually accumulated in the abyss, as if it were a pregnant womb, because of those who mandated it. And it rained fire at one time when it was ordered to consume certain impious men, and at another time it hurled hail against other iniquitous men with well-aimed shots, and it caused great slaughter among them, instructed in this by the nod of those righteous ones. They split the earth with a great chasm, and brought down the seditious, together with their tents and ^D the various herds of animals, into the subterranean caverns. They made the deep sea into a public road, and made the waterless land pool into abundant use of the water that had previously been in short supply. They crossed rivers without their feet becoming wet; they walked in the furnace of fire, and suffered no harm from the fire, contending with the flame as if it were cold water against their bodies, and mastering that which voraciously brings about corruption by means of that which is easily corrupted. They were handed over to the fury of wild beasts as food, and yet they suffered no trial of that wildness, having softened them to tameness through prayer as if by a charm. They illuminated dark shadows with a column of fire; they abated the meridian heat, shading with a cloud the bright sky for those who were traveling. They provided bitter water, and that which was a cause of barrenness to the earth, as drinkable for those who were thirsty, and suitable for the production of fruits to those who pastured there. They granted to the barren a progeny of children, and

those of them who were dead they restored alive to them. They withstood tyrants, surrounded by a great multitude of spearmen; they mocked the battle-lines arrayed against them, and put battalions of enemies to flight. They passed through the cunning ambushes of those who plotted against them unscathed. They escaped from prisons, the doors having been opened to them by an invisible power; they were miraculously freed from the chains by which they were held; they passed through the threats of slaughter intended by the princes and the rages of maddened crowds without danger, never having experienced any grave harm at all.

CHAPTER XX

And all these things, and more than these, happened to those righteous men, because they had turned away from the manifold cares of the world and applied themselves to divine worship with undivided diligence, for the sake of the freedom which they possessed with the Deity, having become worthy to command every creature. The history of the sacred Scripture indicates who these men were, and makes their names manifest in order from the Acts, making them known to those who wish to learn each for each miracle. And it would be long and superfluous now to enumerate them, since they are clear in the discourse even to those who do not investigate the divine Scripture very studiously, but who derive pleasure from the meditation [of it], and perhaps a turning away from sorrowful thoughts. For to those by whom the work is accurately labored over, the diction is useful for contemplation, preoccupying the mind with understandings, and leading it as if by the hand—now by one saying, now by another—to prudence and to the discernment of the things occurring, which consequently and successively always take up the concern of the past thing, and expand it until the things moving the thought sit within, enlarging the love of wisdom which daily promotes it and leads it justly to the end toward which it is being brought.

CHAPTER XXI

^A Know also those of the New Testament who possessed nothing: John, the forerunner of Christ, and the chorus of the apostles together, from whom the monastic life took its beginning. How the former chose of his own accord to inhabit the desert solitude, eating locusts and wild honey, and using clothing made from the hair of a camel; while the latter, obedient to the Lord’s exhortation, went forth with one tunic, and taking food wherever it was found (as the weather permitted), possessing nothing, as they had been taught, not even a staff or a wallet, which are most useful to travelers, so that perhaps by appearing to rely on these, they might not blunt their hope placed in God. ^B For they distrusted things that are visible to the sight, and did not take into account the manner of the power that invisibly works with them—which does not refuse to impart the governing grace to the honest and the teachable, but wishes it to be displayed naked of any covering, and, distributed according to what is fitting and true, [it] turns back the easiness of men toward itself.

^A But come, let us not, under the pretext of that constant occupation of the saints in divine things, open a door to sloth—as Adelphius of Mesopotamia and Alexander, who for a short time stained queenly Constantinople, did—to escape work. They made it their practice to appear to persevere perpetually in prayer; and for young boys and men still vigorous in the strength of their bodies—men who were bound by the labor of many to overcome that strength—they established as a law to do no work through the relaxation of the soul. Thus, they stirred up passions within themselves, and gave the intellect license to remain idle by clinging to the fuel of those passions, ^B until the apparent prayer, when it was not what it was called, entirely perished.

CHAPTER XXII

The turbulent recollection of carnal desires not only does not permit one to commune with God, but even pollutes the mind, which seemed at ease for prayer, with the imaginations of base thoughts. For to persevere in prayer and to train the mind for communion with God is a fine thing, but only provided that we do not turn a time of peace into a time of war, nor, by extending the time beyond what is fitting, ^C give an entrance to the enemy passions. For these are accustomed to take thoughts captive and pull them away like sacred asylum from prayer, tyrannically leading them to the wisdom of the flesh; and having seized them, they force them to pass through those reasonings which that ruling passion dictates. Who, then, among those who think rightly, would call this a prayer, when it is rather a battle of mutually opposing and warring thoughts, when one contradicts the other, each strives to persuade as it wills, and each fights against the other until a manifest victory? It is not merely a boxing match or a pentathlon—and would that it were at least that; for it would be honorable to stand and struggle against the things that disturb us, not to be dragged like purchased slaves, offering no resistance. ^D For we are often distracted from the words of prayer and follow along with the dragging thoughts, neither refusing nor being troubled by this, which would be the act of a mind not agreeing with those things that urge us toward what is not fitting. Yet it exhibits the form of prayer; for by kneeling, we appear to those who see us to be doing this, but in our minds we are imagining pleasing things, conversing benevolently with friends, railing against enemies with anger, feasting with those at a banquet, building houses for kin, planting, traveling, engaging in commerce, being dragged by force to the priesthood, and managing with great circumspection the affairs of the churches we have been entrusted with. We run through many more of these things, attaching ourselves to each of what is said, just as the passion knows how to dispose the mind toward each one.

CHAPTER XXIII

But prayer does not want this; rather, it has the intellect

[...has] a mind pure from every sense of this kind, [for it is] not taken captive by wandering thoughts; but whatever that may be, it is strictly honorable, beyond the set purpose, nor does it assume the sense of any earthly thing. ^A But, as if divinely inspired and estranged from habitual things and those friendly to the body, it settles where it has set forth to be occupied, conducting its conversation with reverence. And let the occupation have as much measure as one expends upon himself, as much as the habit acquired by exercise provides, so that each one may persist in it without distraction. Let it not therefore be permitted to deceive the simpler ones, and those who are alike inexperienced in prayer and monastic exercise, by ordering them, under the appearance of a greater work, to cease from what seems lesser. For their purpose, as is clear, is rather to eat what has been prepared by others—not what has been produced by their own weary hands—under the honorable pretext of being free for prayer, and with a fair show, gathering provisions; rather than to live as is profitable for soul and body. For he who divides his time between works and prayer, as he is fitted for one or the other, indeed tames the body by labor and mitigates its disordered impulses in the way that is most fitting, and leads the soul, which is toiling with the body and yearning for relaxation, to prayer as to something lighter, with prompt and vigorous strength. For the work itself provides consolation by alternating, and by changing from one work to another, so that he is not distressed by sorrow by dwelling too long in one ^B and being weighed down in a unique and solitary way; but he rejoices in the variety of the work, as though pausing from and laying aside the labor, from which he seems to cease, fresh; he approaches, as if beginning what is to be undertaken.

CHAPTER XXIV.

He, however, who loves sloth, nourishes passions by indolence, and gives opportunity to the desires to move themselves licentiously toward those things for which they were born, and especially in the time of prayer, when the whole mind is turned toward that which troubles the heart, running through the reasonings, whatsoever the passion that is present suggests, instead of conversing with God and asking of Him ^C what is fitting, and removing the apprehensions of shameful things: [he is] twisting the very reasons of prayer into reasons of malice, or impurity, or toward that to which the ruling [passion] of the mind turns, and abusing it for those things to which it is affected. Paul, well knowing that this happens to such people, vehemently denounces sloth, methodically reporting the evils generated from it; for he says: "We command you, brethren, and exhort you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye withdraw yourselves from every brother that walketh disorderly, and not after the tradition which they received of us. For yourselves know how ye ought to follow us: for we behaved not ourselves disorderly among you; neither did we eat any man's bread for nought; but wrought with labour and travail night and day, that we might not be chargeable to any of you: not because we have not power, but to make ourselves an ensample unto you to follow us. For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work,

neither should he eat. For we hear that there are some which walk among you disorderly, working not at all, but are busybodies. Now them that are such we command and exhort by our Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work, and eat their own bread.

Chapter XXV

^AWith many arguments he exaggerates his harsh rebuke; for by calling idleness disorder, and setting forth that "he who does not work, should not eat," and furthermore by showing that he himself toiled day and night in labor, and provided himself as a pattern and example, and by reproving not those persons themselves, but others on their behalf, and by withdrawing from them the healthy—as though they were seized by a plague-like disease—he manifests a very great and intolerable indignation. For indeed, idleness is to many the cause of many evils, since in their leisure it greatly increases the vices that were already accustomed, and teaches those that were hitherto unusual; for it is an innovator, and has great facility for devising new evils. Paul clearly demonstrates in the aforesaid, and in many other places, that it is to be abominated and avoided, exhorting, being angry, grieving, and rebuking; and applying every method to shame those whom, as he himself said, are disorderly, [that they might] work with quietness, and walk honestly toward those who are without. ^B Knowing that labor is an anchor of the mind, securing it and preparing it to move safely. Even if storms and whirlwinds from every side abound, threatening shipwreck with violent winds, it stands immovable, held fast as by an anchor to the work, fluctuating little with rising thoughts, but not torn away so as to undergo danger, since the bond is stronger than the winds that shake it.

Chapter XXVI

Thus, those who, under the pretext that one ought to persevere in prayer, reject manual labor, not only do not pray—since the intellect cannot ^C strive toward what it ardently desires without instability—but also, being distracted beyond the measure of their own strength concerning many things that are not at all appropriate, and nourishing the body in an excessively luxurious manner, they render it unsuited for prayer by this very thing by which they think to provide the soul with security through idleness, entangling it in a labyrinth of thoughts from which they cannot extricate themselves. For the body, broken by labor, retains to itself the intellect—which ought, not unlike the eyes, to be intently present to the task it is pursuing and to cooperate with them toward its accomplishment, so that it does not wander and stumble in it. But if it is soft and remiss, it gives it the opportunity to be driven ^D around by the passions stirred up in that state of ease, and to be brought into subjection and captivity by every suggestion of concupiscence that drags it about.

^A

CHAPTER XXVII.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER XXIX.

it is not such that it may claim the first place for itself, nor can it boast of an equal honor alongside the preeminent institution, yet it does not endure to stand in the second rank, and to yield to those who live more negligently in the third and fourth order; and it does not fall short of perfection as much as the differing forms of life excel one another. For the first saints lived by the soul alone, and to God who made it, having no regard for the body; whence they had necessary things in good season, without fitting anxiety, not stored away in granaries, but brought forth as from a storehouse at the proper time by divine will. But those who came after them, taking thought for the necessary solace of the body, and being eager that the living creature might not be neglected and perish contrary to the will of Him who joined both together, used their hands for work only so long as was required for the inescapable necessity of ministration; but in the remaining time that stayed over, they were free for the care of the soul, for prayers, and for readings, and for exercise in matters suitable for their advancement in good things, as was fitting. ^A

CHAPTER XXX.

But those who were the last of these, being entirely fleshly, gave themselves over wholly to the service of this earthly image, tilling the earth, rearing beasts of burden, driving trade, and pursuing every art of commerce—not wishing to have only what suffices for life in the flesh, but whatever might show them to be no less than those who abound in elegance and wealth, so that they might appear distinguished from that source, since they did not earn repute through their conduct; and, as they think, they procure for themselves distinction through sumptuous elegance. In this they clearly convict themselves of folly, in that they take a charge as a praise, and think to be seen and admired for those things for which they are worthy of mockery and laughter. For just as things adapted to each undertaking reasonably provide the grounds for acceptance, ^B so those things that do not befit, even if they be praiseworthy elsewhere, contain much that is worthy of censure in regard to what is not accommodated to them. Therefore, no one has praised a man adorned with a golden knot of hair and precious stones of great value, nor has anyone approved of a woman over-dressed with a brooch and a heavy cloak. For the adornment which nature has distributed to each one becomes a subject of mockery through innovation. ^C

CHAPTER XXXI.

To whom, then, in the borderland are they closer on either side? By all means to those whom they more nearly approach in work; and they call out for their kinship, as it were, those whom they are eager to resemble in their way of life. For because they hold a position in the interval, they do not straightway incline toward both sides equally; for they are followers of their leaders, clinging continuously to them, and treading in their fresh footsteps: but they are as far from those who are inferior as those who are running are from those who walk step by step, ^D or who remain in one place, separating off by little and little. For who to those who...

possess nothing? What consonance have those who mind the things of the flesh with those who mind the things of the spirit? What part have those who are confusedly mixed up in business with those who serve God free from the cares of the world? ^A The latter have apostolically abandoned, however small they were, the things they possessed; the former have acquired even things they did not have. These truly keep silent, cultivating modesty and gravity within; but those, fighting like pentathletes, grow strong over money and possessions. The former compete lawfully against the spiritual powers of wickedness for heavenly goods, as do wrestlers; but the latter wage war over earthly things with their fellow-possessors, being in turn attacked by them. To the former, time is spent on the care of the salvation of souls; but to the latter, their whole life is barely sufficient, distributed among the multiform occupations of the body. These, indeed, living far from business, dispose those who behold them to give thanks; but those, authors of blasphemies, oppose them, performing nothing worthy of the divine command.

CHAPTER XXXII.

To the former, Paul says: "Shine as lights in the world," shining utterly with an illustrious way of life, and having become agents of good zeal to those who behold them; to the latter: "Through you the name of God is blasphemed," for by your conduct you evidently perform things contrary to your profession, ^B and carry about a habit that contradicts your works. Whence, conveniently, the former are looked up to, but the latter are despised and spat upon; the former are called blessed, but the latter are lamented as wretched; the former are loved by right and merit, but the latter are not unjustly held in hatred. For who, indeed, will not deservedly love him who is entirely alienated from external tumults, and embraces a quiet life, free from business? Who will not love, standing in awe of, one who turns away from the contentious gains acquired in society, and from the hatreds and aggressions of those who profess the same art, even guarding within the solitude of his home against doing anything irreparable, and against suffering such things in return; who neither troubles others nor is troubled, who neither does injustice nor wishes to do it, and to whom injustice cannot even be offered? For the one, even if he could, he does not embrace by the disposition of his mind; the other, a harmful injury cannot be inflicted upon him. ^C

CHAPTER XXXIII.

For who indeed would not seriously hold in detestation one who says that he has changed his life, and yet is entangled in its distractions? Who boasts that he has despised the world, and yet adheres to the things that are in it even to the point of madness? Who gives out that he despises earthly things, yet by his works gives the lie to his promise? Who holds in mockery, as he says, things that are considered elegant and refined among men, and yet applies himself to them more studiously than other men? Who has bid farewell to vanity, while he is not at all separated from it? Who confesses ^D the cross and death as his renunciation, and yet does not stand by it, since there is no material apparent in which...

show any mark of this mortification? You have gone forth from Egypt, O man, what have you to do with brick-making anymore? You travel through the desert, hastening toward the land of promise; why do you linger in vain works? You have become a slow traveler for a long journey. The path set before you requires great zeal, lest you wander off onto pathless ways, so that you do not fall away from the rest you desire. You have placed your hand upon the handle of the plow; why do you turn back, having become unfit for the kingdom of heaven? You have left behind the burning of the Pentapolis, why do you look around, longing to see what is happening there?

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CHAPTER XXXV.

^A in no way able to correct it thereafter. For the mind, having been affected by these things, of which it has already reasoned, even if it perceives the deception, it removes itself from it with difficulty, being drawn more by the pleasure of sweet things, than it is urged to flee the harm of useless things. Since, therefore, these things are so, and require such great diligence, how is any suitable time left over for you for laboring at vanities, contrary to what is right? Do you not see how by day tasks, and by night the memories of them, wear you out, turning the time granted for rest into a time of sorrow? For then these very things urge on those who have transgressed the boundaries—those who have ruined the fruits, who have hindered the irrigation, who have grazed on the pastures, and who in any other way do or have done harm—driving them into contention and fighting against each one, goading the irascible power of the soul into a frenzy for revenge, and offering no time for sleep and rest, let alone for prayer, which requires great tranquility on all sides and leisure, and in part provides a soul empty of cares.

CHAPTER XXXVI

What then does Paul say? "I want you to be free from anxiety," ^B and he adds: "The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how he may please Him; but the married man is anxious about the things of the world, how he may please his wife." ^C If, therefore, it is not possible to serve God without anxiety, why do those who are not anxious about how they might please the Lord not take wives, and endure their heavy and burdensome load? For they differ in no way from those who are married; they are just like them, anxious about the things that belong to the world. And they have no ground for complaint in this; rather, they are to be condemned all the more. For the Ecclesiastes granted at least a little pardon to those who take up the burdensome toil of vain labor in order to pass on a small comfort of life to their children, who might perhaps suffer the untimely bereavement of a parent, so that they might not also lack guardians and protection and, being worn down equally by the need of necessary things, be hard-pressed by miseries on all sides, and crushed in every way. But he condemned the manifest folly of the others, saying: "There is one, and he does not have a second, neither son nor brother to him, and for whom does this man toil in vain?" ^D He has very reasonably rebuked such a one, because, being freed from successors for whom the labor of acquiring provides a perhaps plausible defense, he has not made use of his leisure for what is necessary—turning the time that has been wasted by many into something useful for himself for acquiring the goods of the soul. For let it be that, regarding the saying, "Do not be anxious for your soul, what you shall eat, or what you shall drink, or what you shall put on," he gives way through lack of faith, doubting whether what is necessary will be present or not for one serving God. Why does he not conform himself to: "Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content"? These [labors] which those who are anxious for the world sow as toils for the works of the flesh, one should sow as tillage for the things of the Spirit, from which to reap

eternal life. Instead, he has inclined entirely toward earthly things, for all time suffering hardship with all his might for these things, yet how much he has, and how much need of leisure the requirement of the body has, if one were to look to the necessity of it, and not let himself be poured out into a sea of pleasures by luxury!

^A

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Chapter XXXVIII.

who are simpler, without inquiry. They would by no means dare these things, they say, if they were, as they are considered, truly evil. Therefore, the great Paul, who regulated a life of virtue and clearly provided for those who despise the offense of the simpler ones, says: “For if anyone sees you who have knowledge reclining at a table in an idol’s temple, will not the conscience of him who is weak be built up to eat things offered to idols?” ^A By binding indifference in any matter to a single charge, he shows how things that are done by those who are supposed to know what is beneficial are easily led toward imitation by the simpler ones, who consider this to be building up, and not at all the destruction of the good. For this was what was obscurely signified by that word “built up”; it will, he says, be thought to be progress and improvement in that which they have seen imitated. For he says, “Build one another up,” ^B commanding by law the benefit which is mutually conferred from one to another, so that each one, by performing the good, may urge the other to the action of it, having become for him a pattern for perfection through the additions of individual progress. And what millstones of donkeys, and what depths of the sea are worthy of punishment for such men, who have constituted themselves the authors of such scandals for the simpler ones, and who have provoked them—even though they might have been ^C more inclined toward parsimony—to proceed to manifold wealth, with contentious discord excited against them, and to seize upon things which are clearly harmful? For jealousy, he says, is for a man from his friend, and in upright or honest things, as well as in vicious ones, setting out to surpass his neighbor. For a spirit of contention compels such a person to win in whatever matter he is disputing; for he does not judge it to be as shameful and disgraceful to be unfairly superior in a crisis, as he does to be justly defeated. Moreover, all know this by experience, how contention toward things that are beneficial ^D is sluggish, and the spirit of rivalry is slow. But if anything useless or thoughtless is done by some, or contrary to opinion, then emulation is ready, and imitation is carried out without delay, which seems to have a defense prepared, because they follow those who lead them off, attributing the cause to those who initiated it, and not to those who were enticed by the example.

Chapter XXXIX.

punishment for themselves in the world to come; first, because they have preferred worse things to better; and, second, because they have provided others with an argument for wrongdoing, by their inclination toward vain things, which is so strongly disposed to inflame the violent desires of the many who gape stupidly after them. ^A And some of the Jews, too, though not required by the Law to embrace the renunciation of possessions, voluntarily chose it, desiring to worship the Divine without distraction. They dwelt in tents and tabernacles, turning themselves away from everything that could distract the mind from the better things—as they themselves told those who questioned them and desired to learn the way of life they had newly adopted: "We had no vineyard, or field, or house," knowing well that the care of these things hinders the works that pertain to piety. ^B And not a few of the Greek philosophers also displayed such great poverty that they lived roofless like dogs, and took as food whatever might be found at the moment, so that it might seem that their contemplation of vain things remained completely secure, not disturbed by any worldly cares. One of them, at any rate, who possessed nothing at all except a cup from which he carried both food and drink, once saw some shepherd boys cupping their hands together to bring water to their mouths; and he threw away his cup and said, "I have learned, O boys, what until now had escaped me; I have learned the perfection of poverty," and he honestly confessed that what was lacking for the supreme profession of the lovers of wisdom had been demonstrated to him by the boys. ^C Perhaps this was also his own goal: to put off his body, if possible, and with it to strip off every care relating to life, and to live with a naked soul, without carnal filth, having yielded insatiably to the desire for philosophy.

CHAPTER XL

We, however, who hear both the Lord and the apostles always insisting on this matter, since we have not until now been swayed by their divine exhortations, nor have we ourselves been moved to any good of our own accord, let us at least be put to shame by these men who reproach us for our abundance of wealth in the face of their poverty. For it is fitting to be rebuked by those whom we ought to be venerating ^D because of the gravity of our order, and among whom we hold the first rank in our dogmas, so as not to be inferior in our way of life; lest, by living worse than the Gentiles, we cause the name of the Lord, which has been invoked upon us, to be blasphemed, as we perform deeds that are alien and contrary to those we were commanded to do. And I know indeed that to those who read it, this saying will seem very biting; yet it is so only to those who are outside of such reproach, and not to you to whom this discourse is directed. For I am persuaded that they will not become more temperate through these reproofs, as they are held by an incurable disease, nor, if some of these things that have been said are harsher, will they correct what is vicious, having washed away shame once and for all, and no longer blushing at the things in which they sin; since not even according to the wise Solomon has the sluggard been brought to shame by the example of the ant, so as to move his hands and be ashamed of his blameworthy sloth.

CHAPTER XLI

It is indeed difficult to lay aside a passion that has been possessed for a long time, and to break a habit drawn out by long custom, for those who do not use the greatest effort toward the correction of an evil behavior, and who cling to it as if held by indissoluble bonds, even though they might depart from it. Hence it is sometimes necessary that those who are still addicted to it be dragged backward in the memory of those things in which they were but a little while before, even against their will turning their feet back, and incessantly returning to those things from which they strive to flee. Wherefore, Solomon cries out to the sluggard with a clear voice: "Go to the ant, O sluggard, and emulate, seeing her ways." ^B But to those who profess the monastic life, yet are entangled in the cares and sordidness of the secular life, the Lord says: "Observe the birds of the sky, that they do not sow, nor do they reap, nor do they gather into barns, and your heavenly Father feeds them." But neither have these abandoned the care of the earth as they were commanded, nor has that man brought his hands forth from his bosom, preferring, out of a satiety which has little labor, a languid state of need. Thus, he whom long-standing custom dominates becomes quite unchangeable toward that which is unusual, deeming it enough to be in the state in which he is, even though it be confessed that it is not profitable, rather than to cross over to the unusual, even though it may contain a manifest and evident utility.

CHAPTER XLII

But you, O friends of Christ and diligent guardians of his laws, who offer to the Lord the denarii of the commandments doubled, and beyond the debt of what is laid down, you have set yourselves to perform with great zeal and a willing mind those things which are of counsel, and by the free choice of your mind you have surpassed what was established for servants toward an inexcusable work. You who have joined in the way of life with Christ and have been initiated upon the mountain into the dogmas of sublime philosophy, and demonstrate by your works the certainty of the things that have been handed down. You who have followed in the apostolic footsteps, and work in such a way as not to be a burden and a weight to anyone, ^D yet being so occupied about this, that you do not spend the time of more necessary work upon smaller things, but excellently dividing the time into a modest use for the body and into abundant care for the soul. For this is the true and convenient distribution of justice: not to offer equal parts to all, but to provide for each according to his dignity; and to extend to the handmaid that which is commensurate and sufficient, but to attribute the whole to the mistress, who truly exists as the lady, and who ought indeed to enjoy much honor. You who wage war for Christ nobly and magnanimously, and are by no means entangled in the negotiations of secular life, so that you may please the commander of the army, and, striving lawfully,

^A escaping the grips of adversaries through the lightness of poverty, as if anointed [with oil], because they have no material stuff from which, by seizing you, they might inflict injury, or cast you down in the stadium, having prevailed through the passion of covetousness. Just as the Egyptian woman who grabbed the garment of Joseph could never have achieved it if he had been as naked as a contender truly fighting, but even then she would have accomplished nothing of what she was striving for, even if she had seized him, since the athlete had stripped off those very things by which, being held, he was dragged by force. Having learned by experience that from the beginning it was necessary for one who dwells with the passions and fights against them to be naked, coming to the struggle from the start just as he fled later, having stripped off every concern and anxiety for things of the senses. For it is by these things that they are defeated—both by having them to contend for, and by being deprived of them—through grief; those who cling to money and possessions, and who, as they ought not, derive bitterness from them.

CHAPTER XLIII

But you, freed from such bonds after the manner of the wild ass released, according to Job, ^B in the wilderness, who derides the multitude disturbed by many businesses, and does not hear the complaint of the tax collector—you who are delivered from the care of possessions and the annoyance of tax-gatherers—you who possess nothing in the way of holdings and yet possess all things by authority; you who, according to the Lord’s voice, do not keep a second tunic, and have put on Christ, who repels every grievance impinging from without; who walk upon the earth because of the necessity of the body, and dwell in heaven according to your resolve; ^C who press forward eagerly to the prize of the calling, and complete the course of piety as swiftly as birds; who have shaken off every burden of worldly anxiety from the shoulders of the soul, and have nimbly leaped over the scandals that impede progress—the way of life which you received from those who went before you, if indeed it is toward something more diligent, so that you yourselves, having labored together with those who went before, may have a boast in precision; but take care lest you turn toward something more slothful, being recognized as legitimate children of the fathers according to virtue, and not judged as illegitimate by the difference of your deeds. For it is no small disgrace for descendants to boast of ^D the kinship they have toward their parents, but not to provide proof of that relationship through their conduct. For just as the features of faces and other physical indications teach by their likeness who is whose son or father, so the manners of life show who are the followers of whom, and they make known—by word those who are dedicated to contemplation, and by deeds those who interpret the active masters in that way. But why do we bring forward physical and muddy habits as examples of those who have far surpassed bodily images, wishing to signify things that are exceedingly great by things too small, and that are sketches, not even being icons, because they are not clarified by colors?

^A For you are disciples of Christ and sons of the eternal Father; for thus the Lord calls you brothers, saying, "Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother." And He also names you sons of His own Father, in which He says, "Do not be anxious about what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; for your Father knows that you need all these things." And He teaches how this kinship and relationship comes to be, giving opportunities to those who desire to ascend to that nobility and choose to be transferred from slavery into adoption, when He says, "Learn from me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." And again, "Be merciful, as your heavenly Father is." And, "Be compassionate, as your Father is." And, "In all things be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

CHAPTER XLIV

^B Since, therefore, the divine nature is proposed for imitation, what is the use of observing human endeavors and curiously and vainly laboring over what kind, in what way, and to what extent others have progressed in the good, and how others, deceived by worldly delights, are involved in vain distractions? And not only to see this, but how it is possible to be assimilated to God in all things, and how one can acquire that perfection; and by what labors one can recover the ancient dignity of nature, becoming from above an expressed image of the archetypal form, and acquiring a nature—as if a habit derived from exercise in virtue—that is absolutely immutable toward the turning to the contrary. What time, therefore, will suffice for us to imitate the nature of God? What power will assist in ^C molding the types of divine likeness? How and when shall we be all that God is? For imitation is absolutely possible, since He who knows the strength of each has commanded it. If someone, having begun from childhood and through every age up to extreme old age, having used unremitting zeal, shapes himself to the archetypal virtue, but having neglected some of the past years, how shall he strive? And with how much daring spirit, so that in a short time he may amend what would have been corrected with such difficulty over a whole life? But neither does difficulty make the thing entirely impossible, nor does a late beginning make the attempt ambiguous, or suggest ^D desperation of perfection to the one beginning; for choice, quickly accomplishing what it has proposed, contributes both to the goal of the aim and to the shortcut, with an urgent and accelerated promptness, preserving the work that requires much time in a space of time that does not correspond proportionately. Reliable witnesses and guarantors of this are the laborers of the eleventh hour in the vineyard, who accomplished the same thing as those who had been scorched from the morning until the evening, and were not hindered from reaching those who preceded them by the narrow deadline; for such is indifference, and such is diligence; for the one...

with much leisure accomplishes little, of no moment, and which are not even worth mentioning; while the other, even in a short time, directs great things, running past with keener zeal those who have acted more remissly. ^A

CHAPTER XLV.

Idcirco, we have been made in the image of God, so that we might preserve the properties of those forms, and by an illustrious manner of life provide to those who see us clear tokens of the likeness which we bear towards Him. "I," says God, "am merciful, and compassionate, long-suffering, and of great pity, and keeping justice" (Ps. LXXXV, 15). By these colors is the image of the divine likeness depicted. These are the marks of the incorporeal form; by these is the soul recognized as being kindred to God, desiring with burning zeal not His neediness—for He is devoid of need—but the desire for untainted purity, though hindered by the bond with which it is tied to the body. Yet, as soon as it feels some slight ^B need, it cries out, and by that very act gives evident proof that it desires, above all, to be in need of nothing; and by what it has been able to attain, it shows what desire it has for those things it cannot yet grasp. In the fact that it strives to emerge from natural necessities, it declares with how much desire and love it has perfected those things which are permitted, namely, goodness and long-suffering, kindness and humanity, and everything that designates the nature of God, which it studiously possesses. Where there was nothing to hinder, it used its authority boldly, and proceeded with great ease to those things to which its powers led; hence, also, being honored with the divine form, it is "a little lower than the angels" (Ps. VIII, 6), according to David, when, being mired in the clay of the body, it is constrained—even if only for a short time—by unavoidable necessity to attend to its requirements; ^C yet, it is altogether eager to occupy itself with better things, and to spend its life there in contemplation, where it has pure joy, undisturbed by the memory of any unpleasant thing. For who would not say that one who flees the tumults of the crowd, rejects the burden of burdensome and heavy business, avoids the company of vain and indifferent men, remains at home for the most part, quietly occupying himself with prayers and the meditation of the words of God, appearing honorable and rare in his coming forth, and being seen modest and imperturbable, compassionate and loving towards his neighbor, is truly an emulator of God, and His image and likeness, who emits the divine splendors of His goodness and illuminates the ^D likeness with virtues as if with elegant colors?

CHAPTER XLVI.

Repainting this image, and exhorting His disciples to this likeness, and teaching how one can by imitation become godlike, the Lord said, as has already been stated: "Be merciful, as your heavenly Father is merciful" (Luc. VI, 36), offering an equality of honor beyond

^A envy to those who desire to ascend to this honor. For God is pure of envy, and indeed of every other passion; He rejoices in those who strive for the same glory as He possesses, since it is not in His nature to be diminished by the communication of it to others, nor does He envy those who, through zeal, become what He is by nature—unchanging and immutable, always remaining so, and wishing all to be within this immutability of character. For men, possessing an honor that is contingent and fleeting, naturally envy the success of others, fearing that they will be surpassed in the things in which they boast, and fearing, with respect to those who approach them from a humble station and are promoted to equal honor, that they might eventually appear inferior. They envy these persons because—as they reasonably think—they wish to be superior ^B to everyone in all things, and, because of their love of glory, they cannot bear to have anyone at all above them. God, however, possessing His own glory, which is self-acquired, freely shares it with all, without suffering any loss. For exercise never surpasses nature, even if a habit is formed by much practice; nor does it push nature out of its primacy, even if it seems to excel in secondary things, recognizing its own progress and not insolently exalting itself injuriously against the supereminent one; it proceeds in the granted honor and does not claim for itself that which surpasses it. Thus, also, Paul, following the words of the Lord, similarly shapes the image in each one, clarifying it with the same characteristics to the point of an exact likeness. For he says: "Be imitators of God" (Eph. v, 1); and he explains how this is achieved, saying: "Be kind to one another, compassionate, ^C forgiving one another, if anyone has a grievance against anyone, just as Christ also forgave us." And again: "Put on, therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, a heart of mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, longsuffering" (Col. iii, 12), wishing to adorn us with these prerogatives, with which the divine form—which is the lover of mankind—shines.

CHAPTER XLVII

This denotes and portrays God and the man who affects to imitate God: namely, to be fair, patient of injuries, not irascible, not envious, beneficent, compassionate, in no way remembering evils, loving what is good, kind, holding honor as equal, useful, sharing, accurate, and bearing concern for all; not ambitious; and to include everything in a word by which God manifests the abundance of His goodness, "who makes His sun rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust" (Matth. v, 45). Through these things, let one be known as an imitator of Him, striving to remain ^D equal toward all in benefaction, both toward friends and those who are evilly disposed; and even if he suffers evil, rendering good for evil, and turning those who do wrong—not only by bravely bearing what is daringly perpetrated by them, but also by showing, in whatever way he can, goodness in his disposition.

For no one is so entirely a stranger and out of tune with human nature by the exercise of wickedness that he would not be embarrassed to be able to return equal measure for what he has suffered, ^A and to use his power for good, being humbled by the favors he receives from the one he had wronged, rightly condemning himself for the wickedness, and reasonably admiring the wisdom of the other, by whose example he is benefited to depart from wickedness and to transfer himself to the good recognized by experience; such, then, is the one who has become this way himself toward those who plot against him, as he had the one who plotted against him overcome the wickedness through benefits toward peace. And these things were sufficient for Paul to teach the compliant a sober life, but knowing that some are difficult to lead to this, he artfully attempts to divert us from vanity with many other exhortations, leading us to the true law by noble names; at one time indeed, "You are God's temple," at another time, "Walk as children of light." And again, "Conduct yourselves worthily of the Gospel." And once more, "Your bodies are members of ^B Christ." And at other times he calls us holy and blameless, at others, blameless, pure children of God, and unblemished. He testifies to these as if they were present—things which we must still acquire, though not yet present, so that we may not be struck by false praises, but may rejoice in being addressed as these things which we also are in our works, acknowledging the testimony to be true in our conscience, and not knowing mockery. And hereafter, taking great care for our progress, and anxious as to how he might establish us in every way as a perfect man, unto the measure of the age of the fullness of Christ, he moves every device from every side, omitting nothing of what contributes to this.

CHAPTER XLVIII

Immediately, therefore, he wishes [us] to be dead and crucified to the world, taking no perception of either these pleasant or painful ^C things, since, according to him, "the form of this world is passing away," and something small and painful as a form, or delighting in the passing, is likewise small, not lasting, nor continuing for a long time creating a perception of either; but by a most rapid movement it runs past, leaving no trace of memory in the soul because of its speed. He says, therefore: "You have died to the world, and your life is hidden with Christ in God," knowing another life after the aforementioned death, which those who have risen with Christ live, seeking and setting their minds on the things above, having died to the elements of the world and no longer living in them, as some do, whom he rebukes, saying: "If you have died from the elements of the world, why do you live in the world, ^D dogmatizing? Do not touch, nor taste, nor handle; for all things are for destruction by the using, for those who have ceased through death the desire toward them."

But also, he says, "present yourselves unto God as alive from the dead." ^A On the one hand, he wishes us to be dead in that part where the passions of the flesh that lusts against the spirit are working, but on the other hand, he commands us to live in that part where the works of virtue are performed to please God. For this reason, he calls those who have mortified their members which are upon the earth and walk in newness of life 53 a "living sacrifice." They are neither moved toward base things, for the power that was once centered upon these has been mortified by the sacrifice, nor are they sluggish toward good things; since, being a living sacrifice, they have not lost the strength they have for useful deeds along with the power that was for things by no means becoming. Rather, they use that power—new and flourishing—against the ancient enemy, the carnal mind, and are no longer drawn away by its irrational lusts, because they have transitioned completely from an animal to a spiritual way of life, and live no longer in the flesh, but in the spirit.

CHAPTER XLIX

For to these also he seems to be speaking: "You are not in the flesh, but in the spirit," 54 although you are still encompassed by the carnal mass, yet you are no longer in any way hindered by it. ^B "For sin no longer reigns in their mortal body," 55 nor does it still tyrannically and by force compel them to obey its own commands, nor does it war against the law of the mind—that mind which dwells in the members, but is weak—in order to lead it captive under the law of sin. Rather, it is itself led captive to obey the commandments of Christ, and it submits servilely to the better laws—those to which Paul says he delights in according to the inner man. "Having in readiness," he says, "to avenge all disobedience," 56 announcing that he will resume the battle against those things by which he had once been deceived and gone astray, applying henceforth diligence, and by working against them through labors undertaken for virtue in the body, [remedying] those things which he had suffered when enticed by pleasurable things. For what this vengeance is, and of what sort, and in what manner it may be brought about, he teaches by writing to the Romans, in which he says: ^C "For just as you presented your members as slaves to uncleanness and to lawlessness for lawlessness, so now present them as slaves to righteousness for holiness." 57

Truly, they know what it is and how great is the labor of those who are compelled to change a wicked habit into a good one, hindered as they are by being tyrannized by custom. And even if they seem to make progress in the labor they occupy themselves with, by untiring efforts, yet they easily slip back, for custom, like a chain, drags them backward, and often makes their much labor for a time useless, until, by frequently withdrawing and repeatedly retracing their steps, they may be able little by little to turn away from those vices in which they have been nurtured, and to bring over their state completely from the worst things to the best, so as to usefully employ these members [as] weapons of righteousness instead of weapons of unrighteousness, having become—

^A For things that were previously serving unlawfully toward the destruction of those who possess them are justly handed over to serve them, having been made pieces of armor of justice from being pieces of armor of injustice, and having been justly subjected to these things to which they previously ministered unjustly for the ruin of those who possessed them.

CHAPTER L

For the eye that looks upon the goods of one's neighbor, when it moves the mind toward desire or envy, becomes a weapon of iniquity; but when it prepares itself to give thanks to the Giver, it becomes a weapon of justice. And a tongue, when it serves for evil speakings and slanders, and a hand that cooperates in greedy rapine, and a heart that fabricates crafty designs—each of these, when it attains the end for which the intent was formed, rightly receives an ill-omened name. But if it fulfills a right and useful order, it takes a name worthy of the work, for it operates lawfully and is honored by laudable designations. ^B Since, therefore, you are also a living sacrifice for a reasonable service, well-pleasing to God, and you have died together with Christ, having been buried with Him according to your having been dead to the world, and you have risen together with Him to set your minds on things above where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God, and you have your citizenship in heaven, living before the resurrection that life without cares which you will live after the resurrection according to the angels—which Paul, assuming it to be possible, said: "If by any means I may attain unto the resurrection from the dead"—having anticipated the time with the manner of life that befits that time, even if he pretended that he had not yet attained it, while he was within it, hiding the dignity of his virtue by a humble mind. And: "You are the light and salt of the world," ^C by an austere character restraining those who are relaxed by negligence and are not far from corruption, and shining with an excellent manner of life, and, according to the Lord’s voice, "Seeing your good works," calling them to the glorification of "your Father who is in heaven," continue in the good, or rather advance more in these things. Having become an incitement to those who are more sluggish in those things in which you have surpassed them, be persuaded that you will have a double, or even triple, praise from the Master. For he who pursues such a life, such as you go through, in those things that look toward a diligent pursuit of perfection, has one reward for the work itself, another for the fact that he provokes those who are held by the same pursuit to imitation, and a third for the fact that he benefits those to whom divine worship is strange, by such an irreprehensible manner of life making them judge this religion alone to be truly worthy of God, adorned with those works with which it befits those to be adorned who ascribe to themselves God as their ruler, and who lead their lives just as the justice of Him who presides has it grateful and pleasing, who wishes that those who profess familiarity with Him be adorned with exceptional prerogatives, and warns them at the proper time: ^D "Unless your righteousness shall exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."

CAPUT LI.

CHAPTER LII.

^A narrow and impassable and jostling those bodies that enter sideways, to say nothing of those burdened with heaps of heavier weights. How then will those say, who carry about dung and things even more contemptible than dung as if they were things of the highest value, "Behold, we have left all things and have followed you," 70 when they have left nothing, and have taken possession of things they did not have, treating the solitary life as a matter of trade rather than a philosophy? Yet it is truly the occasion for the greatest trade in future goods, ^B not in splendid present ones, since through poverty, need, and other things that now seem harsh, it procures the enjoyment of all the delights that are there, and by means of the obscure and undistinguished, it provides confidence before God and eternal glory. You who have a firm hope of these things in the conscience of your deeds, strive again and again to despise what you have already well reasoned to despise—things that are justly and truly such, and which are cast aside by the sober, even if they seem important and desirable to the foolish, who have been deceived by a fantasy and have attached themselves like sensible things to those that are excessively shameful, and have fallen in love with matter, just as with a truly beautiful woman, when it is not such, but is painted with a visible bloom that is this way, and which snatches toward pleasure those who prefer what is sweet over what is useful, and who choose those things that provoke the passions with a deceitful lure rather than those that are beneficial.

CHAPTER LIII

^C Diligently govern the motions of the mind, attending to how the memories of things work ^D and whether they receive the images of these things with passion or without passion. For many things, rushing in irregularly, are accustomed to do harm, and many things in actions—which easily yield to the passions, to which thoughts are entangled, and with which they secretly conspire—give no sign of their defeat to those without, but fell and often collapse, and before the occurrence of the fall, they lie hidden from those who are not accustomed to see the things within. Someone may appear solemn to those present due to their restraint, while only they themselves know the hidden shames, blushing for the fact that what is not apparent is contrary to what is apparent; for the truth contradicts the estimated pretension, and causes the conscience to rightly blush, because such thoughts of the heart do not agree with the reputation as they are judged by those who observe them. Therefore, the arrogant state of the mind is like a whitewashed tomb, filled 71 (just as if it were truly a grave) with the bones of dead bodies and all uncleanness. For what does this (the intellect) differ from a monument, when it thinks of things that are in no way decent? For it is then just as impure as that, or indeed even more impure: for a sepulcher holds the stench of the body that is still decaying for only a short time.

while the body—its structure once flourishing—was mud stained with blood and phlegm, white from one and red from the other, and shining with this coloration on the qualities that were prominent upon the surface. But the heart, filled with unbecoming thoughts, possesses a continuous foul odor, stinking far worse than the decaying body, and it alone derives enjoyment from its own vileness. ^A

CHAPTER LIV.

When those who pay attention to the visible image know nothing of what is being stirred secretly in the mind—nay, when they might even occasionally admire with astonishment the gravity that is visible and is held in some esteem; for a tranquil disposition, a severe eye, and a sour countenance proclaim nothing other than a copious and deep stability of concern for better things—those who do not know the agitations of the soul dwelling in the innermost recesses are provided with a suspicion that the disposition corresponds to the gestures. Therefore, let this very strongly persuade you: that the things that exist inwardly should be in agreement with those things that are outside, and that you should compose your inner character in the same way as the outward reputation, to the end that we may appear to God in our thoughts such as we seem to be to men, ^B revolving in the mind those things which we think we are deemed by many to possess.

And indeed, as you yourselves know, having had experience of these things, it is not very difficult for those who resolve to do this skillfully, if they examine the causes and restrain them, by making those turbulent things that arise from them cease easily. For since pleasure and pain follow desire, and desire follows sense, he who has not yielded to these has not granted them an opportune time—just as one who has crushed the head of a serpent at the entrance, with it has cast out the whole length of the body trailing along; for it would have entered entirely and without any difficulty if that which presented its head had found some opening that chance might have offered. And this figure has much ^C affinity with that which it signifies, since in exactly the same way those who follow succumb along with the leaders: for sense, according to the forms at which it looks, imprints the sign upon the mind; and the mind moves desire toward those things that delight it, daily exciting in the memory the images of those things that were seen before, and carrying their clear resemblances as if they were statues, until, when either tragedy brings pain or attainment brings pleasure, it learns clearly by experience how great a harm comes to those who remain in these things for a long time. ^D

CHAPTER LV.

For both bring a similar harm, whether those things that are evilly desired succeed according to the mind's intent, or whether they miss the mark, since they produce either a useless joy or an unfitting pain. For this pain is not according to God, so as to produce, according to Paul (II Cor. vii, 10), repentance without regret unto salvation—

nor does this joy consist in the Lord, as the same Paul knows; for he exhorts those who rejoice in a good conscience, saying: “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil. iv, 4). ^A But there is a certain psychic affection, appearing demonic, which is not attached to any of the eternal goods, but which is concerned with material things that decay and which proves that desire to be useless. For what might some say? Have the necessary cares failed, such that we must occupy our mind with vain reasonings, imagining riches, ^B power, glory, and the prosperity that is thought by many to be such? Our character is corrected, the passions are subdued, our senses do nothing amiss, our progress toward ease has been leveled, our exercise has become a habit for us; the heart enjoys a deep peace, the things of the struggle have ceased for us, the battle against the principalities and powers has been dissolved; the flesh, which was cruelly disposed toward the spirit, has made a truce—it no longer wars against the spirit, it has been utterly defeated, and serving as a captive, it confesses that it has succumbed. ^C You have beaten your swords into plowshares and your spears into pruning hooks (Isa. ii, 4), having made out of warlike deeds instruments of agriculture for the sake of great peace; we rest, according to the divine promise, each under his fig tree and under his vine (III Reg. iv, 25), rejoicing in the works of our hands and delighting in our beds, with no one disturbing us from any quarter—neither passion nor the spirit of the opposing power inflaming us toward things that are in no way suited to us. If, however, as has been said, our affairs were in such an impassible state, and we enjoyed the tranquility of those things that usually disturb the intellect, and (according to the institution of the ancient saints) we were superior to all human concupiscence, to what end would the care for futile things be useful to us—which is a vain distraction, and which, though pursued with zeal, accomplishes nothing (for nothing of those things which are not in our power is effected by our own industry, even if we strive to attain it with excessive fervor of soul)? ^D Since these things are gifts of Providence governing what concerns us, and not the works of human endeavor.

CHAPTER LVI

And for this reason, to those who know how to listen well, the Lord says: “Who of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?” (Matt. vi, 27; Luc. xii, 25), showing that just as this thought is vain, which has no end in our [own] endeavor, so is all care vain and truly ineffective, which elevates the reasoning and leads [it] away from true solicitude; nor can it acquire for anyone any of the things he has dreamt of—for it dwells in pleasurable things during sleep, but in true vision it discovers the hope of the imaginations to be vain, it constantly vacates itself for futile thoughts, and it never sees its thoughts fulfilled in deed, according to Isaiah’s parable in which he says: “And as the thirsty man dreams he is drinking, and after he—

^A has awakened, he is weary and still thirsty, and his soul is empty; he hoped in vain.” Such is the hope of vain things, a certain pleasure of a nocturnal banquet, delighting with the deception of a dream, but never providing any experience of the satisfaction it supposedly promised. Why, then, do we constantly ponder things that are not our own as if they were ours, and busily pursue the affairs of others as if they were our own, spending the time required for necessary matters on vain thoughts? If, as we suppose, the passions have ceased, and the wicked spirits that laid snares have secretly withdrawn, we ought to give thanks in our prayers with constant remembrance to the Lord Christ, who has brought us to such a state; for even if all our time were used for this, it would barely suffice, being narrow and short, for the recompense of those benefits which we daily receive, since He has made us higher than those things which afflict many. For if, through both ends of the temporal span—I mean day and night—David desires that we should be assiduous ^B in the meditation of the law, and the Lawgiver does this same thing, saying: “You shall meditate upon it sitting at home, and walking on the way, and lying in bed, and rising,” leaving us no time for leisure; and another commands that we bless the Lord at all times; and Paul orders us to pray without ceasing—what time is left for idly considering those things which are not our task, when each one of these things which are commanded to us requires all our time and allows none for other duties?

CHAPTER LVII

For how will he pray without ceasing who does not meditate on the law of the Lord day and night? And how will he who undertakes any one of those things which have been said perfectly bless the Lord, when time barely suffices to devote careful diligence to any one of those things which are performed virtuously? Therefore Scripture, knowing the negligence of most people, has constrained us with precepts greater than our power, ^C so that it might both intensify our zeal toward what is possible and cut away the pretexts of weakness, making him who does the good act more moderate and equitable—rather than puffed up because he has fulfilled a part of the commandments—hoping that he will not be praised as much for those things which he seemed to have performed successfully as he will be blamed for those which he neglected and omitted; for an imperfect work does not provide confidence to the one who does it, but rather causes him to blush as if he had shirked the labor of reaching the goal which he had diligently pursued. And indeed, some works of craftsmen have a term and an end toward which the intended goal looks, and each of these is brought to completion in no small time, having an end that is standing and awaiting the one who finishes it; but virtue has a long length ^D and is perhaps unending, exhausting the power of him who pursues it, and yet staying far from the goal, stirring the desire to be near

and it so eludes those who approach it, that it renders the alacrity of the soul void, inasmuch as it was indeed near; and it secretly steals away the labor of the one progressing, escaping unnoticed and without being perceived. And this is, as it seems, what was well said concerning the patriarch Abraham, that he came to the place which God had told him, and raising his eyes, Abraham saw the place from afar (Gen. xxII, 4), and having reached it, in appearance, in order to soothe the difficulty of the labor, and having learned by the delay that he had not yet fully grasped it, so that his zeal would not drop as though the proposed goal were finished, he still extends himself toward the more earnest task in the hope that, not long after, he would arrive at that toward which he was hastening. ^B

CHAPTER LVIII

who has strayed from the mark, in such a way that he feels pity himself? Who has not mocked the disgrace of an ordinary man? Who has not rejoiced at another's fall, and become puffed up at his slip through being tripped, thinking highly of himself because he remained standing while the other fell? Who has blushed together with one who blushes when he is reproved for a fault, and does not, on the contrary, consider the other's confusion to be his own confidence, thinking his own glory would be the more exalted while that of others happened to be diminished? And who (to touch upon it briefly), according to Paul*, rejoices with those who rejoice, and weeps with those who weep, thus adapting himself to each person, just as he who examines himself is disposed in happy or dismal matters? ^A

CHAPTER LIX.

For this is the preeminent prerogative of charity: to render the state, or disposition, of all men as it were one, with each person rejoicing with another, and similarly grieving, like the members of one body bound together; and by a fitting arrangement, they sympathize and communicate with one another, and receive one another's sufferings. If, therefore, not even all time is sufficient for the accurate study of virtue, and if for those struggling against the warring demons great vigilance is needed, how shall we be able to complete the journey, which is long, while we are sluggish and distracted? Or how shall we be able to guard against the snares of the adversaries, who are many and invisible, and who use our own passions and senses as weapons against us, and strike us with the very things with which nature armed us as auxiliary defenses against them? ^B The eye serves them by inciting the desire for those things that are seen most often, giving birth to a yearning for all sorts of splendid material things; hearing is accustomed to bring grief from sad news, and to move pleasure from what is agreeable to the mind; anger is kindled by a pretext that presents itself, boiling over and tumultuously shaking the whole body, and disturbing the reasoning faculty and polluting its purity—just like the clear water of a spring—so that it does not clearly see the traces of those things that are present to the mind; vainglory compels one to bring one's work out into public view, wishing to please men rather than God, and rendering the labors useless (for no reward follows that which is done incorrectly, since the goal did not look to please Him who is able to grant rewards, but looked entirely to the praise of those who watched); pride raises the mind to a bloated arrogance, teaches one to despise every man, and to spit upon all those of the same race as if they were vile, raises the mind aloft to madness, and persuades us to imagine equality with God; it does not know the providence and governance of the Better One, that is, the Divinity; ^C when it enjoys graces, it considers itself to be receiving what is owed to its works; it does not want to acknowledge the cooperation of God in the things which it does and brings to a successful conclusion; it considers itself sufficient for every good thing of itself, and thinks it has power over all things, when it has no power at all; it is a bubble blown up by empty conceit, and when this is let out, it is proven to be nothing. Wicked spirits, on the one hand, lying in wait by the way, place stumbling blocks for those who seem to be righteous, leading them away from the truth; others, like...

those who hunt birds, spread nets in the air, attempting to trap those who have been slightly elevated from earthly things with snares suspended on high toward vainglory. ^A

CHAPTER LX

Others (namely, the spirits), by invading the heavenly places—since they are, as Paul says, "spiritual wickedness in heavenly places" [Eph. 6:12]—attempt to catch there those whose conversation is in heaven [Phil. 3:20] within the nets of pride; by which passion they drove the devil, who first became mad with pride, headlong to the earth; by this, they contend to cast down from that high watchtower those who are ascending there by this manner of life, so that they may be overthrown. ^B How many they wage war against, and box, and fight, and wrestle, and run with those who are running—not that they might obtain with them the prize of their calling, but so that, by tripping them up, they might hinder their course—they are many, as Paul also says, and it is difficult and not easy to enumerate them, since those who are fighting have no time in which they might occupy their mind with other things that such a diversion would require; which for these would be a cause of defeat, but for the enemies a victory.

It is therefore necessary to pay attention to these things, and not to be distracted by those which cooperate with the adversaries against us. For whatever one might think of those things which do not contribute to the exercise of our contest, that is a handle for the opponents, intercepting us in mid-course and throwing us outside the field; which, indeed, even if it is not a fall, is nevertheless a defeat—to be shaken from one’s firmness, and to be pushed out from those things which we ought to have cared for toward those about which we should have no concern; since, if truth judges the controversy, just as in material things action is, so in the will is an inappropriate thought a diminution and a fall. For this reason: "The thoughts of the just are judgments; but the wicked govern deceits." [Prov. 12:5]. Those who have settled clearly on the good are governed one way, but those who are led easily toward evil are governed by the one who, with various methods, crafts deceit toward the object at hand, turning the thoughts hither and thither, ^C constantly changing them like a sail directing the course of a ship according to the changes of the wind toward the ports they have purposed to reach. ^D For this reason, the one says: "Let the heart of a man think just things, that his steps may be directed by God" [Prov. 16:9]; and the other: "If there is any virtue, and if there is any praise, think on these things." [Phil. 4:8].

CHAPTER LXI

Teaching those who wish to keep the course of their thoughts well-ordered to make use of such reflections, David thus said sometimes: "The meditation of my heart is understanding" [Ps. 48:4]; at other times: "I will meditate on thy justifications always" [Ps. 118:48]; and again: "I will meditate on all thy works, and on thy practices..."

^A Assigning this constant meditation to himself, so that the mind might not have the opportunity to wander in its ever-restless motion toward things that are not proper, but rather might dwell firmly on those things whose contemplation possesses both delight and great utility—delighting the senses through sight and the soul through speculation. For truly, what is it to dwell thoroughly within the meditation of the works of God, and at times to stretch the eye toward heaven, attending to the sun by day and the stars by night, and at other times to cast it down to the earth, looking upon the sprouting of all kinds of fruits and the myriad differences of animals? And when again we observe in the air and in the sea the thousand differing kinds of birds and fishes, before we even understand what utility comes from each of these, we are meanwhile taught to admire the wisdom of the Creator and to praise God for the variety of creation; and when, in addition to these things that are seen, there is also added that which comes with virtue, then the mind is established in every kind of joy, inasmuch as it is delighted by the natural knowledge of things born of the earth: for there is nothing among existing things that does not fully instruct us in some moral and theological speculation. And since we have suppressed the powers of reason within ourselves by our pleasures, and the things that are useful and ought to be done are not recalled to our memory by reason itself, it is necessary that we stir up memory through external operations of our own, so that we may live as we ought and be acceptable to the Creator.

CHAPTER LXII

^C For this reason, protecting grace sometimes sets before us the ant, and at other times the bee, as teachers that exhort us to imitation through their work, though they lack a voice. And it says: "Go to the ant, O sluggard, and emulate its ways, which in time of harvest stores up food for the winter," ^D suggesting that we ought to usefully collect provisions for the life to come; or: "Go," it says, "to the bee, and learn how industrious it is," inasmuch as by harvesting the flowers of herbs and forming honeycombs, it wisely teaches this knowledge: that by gathering the prerogatives of good men, one should store up for oneself such sweetness for the pleasant living of the life that is hoped for. At other times, it commands the disobedient to imitate the turtledove and the swallow, saying: "The turtledove and the swallow of the field have observed the times of their arrivals, but my people have not known the judgments of the Lord." And it adds: "How do you say: We are wise, or the law of the Lord is with us?" Thus it upbraids those endowed with reason, regarding both the nature that is gifted with science and the law that acts as a teacher of morals, because they are more insensitive than irrational creatures in knowing the will of the Creator. Again, to those who do not show themselves moderate in positions of power, but foolishly grow insolent toward their own kind, it puts forward as an example the sea, surrounded by its deep waters, in order to restrain them, in which it says that the pride is swelling...

^A to repress their rising arrogance, while it asserts: “Will you not then fear me,” says the Lord, “or will you not stand in awe of my face, who have set the sand as a bound to the sea, a perpetual decree, and it shall not pass over it? But this people has become a disobedient and incredulous heart” (Jer. v, 22, 23). Thus, by the fear of an inanimate element acting according to a command, it makes them cautious regarding the observance of the commandments, so that, just as the sea wave, pushed from the deep by the violence of the spirit and gradually rising to a magnitude rivaling the mountains, as soon as it approaches the coastal sand, is repulsed and turns back again, revering the boundary of the one that shackled it—as if it were bound with fetters—so should all who use reason repress every unjust impulse. And those who are governed by reason should castigate every wicked thought, and especially press down pride that is irrationally inflated, doing this at least by the imitation of inanimate things, which they ought to have done even apart from the legislation (judging it to be just by reason), to do it by spontaneous judgment; for this would be a sign of a ^B mind enjoying freedom, moved by its own self-commanding counsel toward that to which the necessity of the law was destined to lead it.

CHAPTER LXIII

Furthermore, the sight of each of the luminaries teaches what is useful; the sun, indeed, by its radiance, suggests that the Son is to be understood as co-eternal with the Father, and I call upon Paul as a witness to this, saying: “Who, being the brightness of his glory, and the figure of his substance” (Hebr. i, 3). For he understood what he saw (as the nature of the thing seen taught him), and with the sharp eye of the soul he discerned this word laid up in the workmanship, which the Creator symbolically deposited, directing the intellect of those who look—from the contemplation inherent in the star—to the co-eternal natural ^C congruity of the Son with Himself. But the moon, waxing and waning, shows the easy mutability of our own affairs, and by the sudden transformations of its shapes, it advises this: that one should neither rejoice in happiness, as if it were to last, nor consider unhappiness troublesome, as if it were to be long-lasting. For these succeed one another so quickly that they do not affect the mind with their presence due to the rapidity of their departure; since the one follows upon the other, and that which immediately follows succeeds the one going before according to the continuous transfigurations of the moon. These yield to one another in such a way that the habit of life is carried out, and the change of light occurs, and the difference between them is difficult to observe, since the slight addition or subtraction justly escapes the sense. Since even many of ^D those things that are thus increased or diminished have an unknown difference in any given case, which no one can easily discern—how much the stature of those things that are increased advances daily through the whole, and as it progresses does not manifest the measure of its advancement—until time teaches it.

^A.

CHAPTER LXIV.

No one, indeed, has ever known the growth of plants, herbs, animals, or children in its individual parts, unless they have not seen the things that are being perfected for some time. Afterward, when they look again, they recognize the addition that has gradually accrued in the interim, and thus they learn after it has been perfected what they were ignorant of while it was coming into being. Similarly, too, when someone looks at a rock hollowed out by a continuously dripping drop, he is fully persuaded by the depth reached after a long interval of time that each drop has accomplished a certain part of the excavation, but he does not know the quantity [of the contribution] of each drop individually, since vision can distinguish the coarser things of sense to some extent (for it is often deceived even in these), but it cannot successfully reach to grasp the finer things, being in a way more sluggish and weak for the perception of such bodies.

If anyone were to emulate the dimmer and brighter stars, being himself obscure and of low rank, he will not envy those who excel in dignity and wealth, nor, conversely, if he is excellent in these things, will he puff himself up with great pride against those who are base and (as it were) outcasts, seeing that those [stars] are content with their own station and place, and love to remain in those in which they were chosen by lot, as God willed, who adapted to them the measures of light. ^B Indeed, since the Lord wishes us to be "prudent as serpents and simple as doves," He constitutes us disciples of all parts of the world, we who ought not to guard in this the nobility of our condition, but deservedly be instructed to good order from our foolishness by those who were once servants, so that, receiving doctrine from them under our eyes, we may awaken within ourselves the knowledge for which we were born; since, clearly, we can live blamelessly by choosing the good things from ourselves, and not by acting like beggars, causing outsiders to bestow such things upon us.

But, O most blessed ones, beyond all other goods, and your concord, and the experience of those things which pertain to each state of affairs, it is worthy that all should also follow your manner with admiration, by which, ^C like a well-tuned Psalter, you sing together one song of piety with diverse voices, of which one follows one aspect of this, and another another, and no one differs from another in the song on account of mutual obedience, since this [obedience] is wont to unite those who are in any way separated by bodies, unanimously in wills toward one goal of the work, in the manner of a musician, who mixes the high or low tone of each string to compose the melody aptly; for that very thing, by which each string appears to be dissonant while it is tuned unequally, this most of all produces the harmony of sounds, since from the diversity of the pluckings a utility redounds to the consonance of the song, and it seasons the parts for pleasantness, with the whisperings of the sounds being exchanged.

CHAPTER LXV.

^A But on the contrary, those who have been newly numbered in the same rank, and are still advancing further, and who strive to reach the ports of perfection—do you know how they preserve their own order among you? Some repress gluttony, others vainglory, and those who are more advanced repress pride (since they are sometimes turned toward pernicious passions), and they fervently exercise themselves in maintaining temperance, and in pursuing simplicity and humility, having no intention toward the glory of men. For the filling of the belly brings about an irrigation of those parts which are under the belly, which, just as if by bitter channels, is irrigated by the forces carried down from the surfeit of food ^B and the impetuous overflowing streams, and these cause very harsh venereal itchings, and make the struggle of continence laborious through these ticklings. They know that vainglory is a useless display, and they justly flee it; for it indeed persuades one to labor for the sake of virtue, but it renders the labors useless, because it does not wish to manifest them to God—He who provides the reward for hidden works openly—but desires to publish to men what is done, so as to provide praises, as a form of payment, to those who are no better off, and it deprives them of the eternal and great honor. For whoever has undertaken any labor whatsoever in order to be admired by men differs in no way from those who perform amazing feats on stage, ^C being content with the wage that comes to him from those who are entertained by such things, and he is no longer reasonable in requesting another from God, because he did not propose from the beginning to receive the reward that comes from Him, but rather that which is bestowed by them. But they also justly loathe the irrational passion of pride; for what reasonable pretext does anyone have for such insanity against another, so that he should exalt himself against his neighbor, and think himself great above him? Has he successfully accomplished something more than others, and has he striven with all his might to increase the great abundance of the goods of the rest? He himself will receive the rewards for his diligent work. Does some other person neglect this, and is he disposed sluggishly toward virtue? He himself is harmed, and he does not diminish the rewards of the other.

CHAPTER LXVI.

Why then is the arrogant man puffed up and does he strut, as if he were striving ^D more than others, displaying himself as though he were a common savior of the race? Does he not know that negligence does less harm than an arrogant estimation of oneself is wont to harm? For it is an impediment to the alacrity of the soul for further progress, as he thinks he has already reached the goal, and he draws great punishments upon himself, in that he despises and disdains in his mind those who have fallen. Yet humility among you does not grant room to envy nor to swelling, for you magnificently imitate the conspiration of the members, and you claim the honor of each for yourselves as if you were one body; for neither is the perfect man exalted against someone still progressing as if he were superior, since he knows that he himself was such a one when he was progressing, and he is persuaded that he also [the other] will arrive at the same measure of perfection,

and ^A he is not overcome with jealousy of him, nor, because he himself has escaped being such a one [i.e., a novice], is he struck with a malicious mind toward him who is meanwhile inferior to him in the dignity of virtue; but he himself is brought by the zeal of emulation to equalize himself with him in the same established way of life. And thus, one will be thoroughly humbler than another by many measures, if he wishes to progress in the established way of life and not through the boasting of a puffed-up mind. And if one were to weigh the state of things, he would find you possessed of much zeal, of whom one contends to be more modest in behavior than the other, as it is easy to see in others, where one wishes to appear more excellent than another due to the desire for glory that occupies the world. But as you have learned Christ, so conduct yourselves in him, having been taught by him mutual obedience, he who became obedient to the Father even unto death, and death on a cross [Philip. II, 8], establishing the measure of obedience even to such a danger as a law; moreover, pursue other virtues with all affection, since, having himself performed these and taught them, he became a credible teacher to all men, demonstrating to those who were learning the possibility of what he commanded by first doing them himself. Have, therefore, much and overflowing affection for one another, since you are not ignorant of what he attested to the apostles, that this is the mark of his own disciples, when he says: «In this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another [Joan. XIII, 35].» Guard true peace with all. «My peace I leave with you [Joan. XIV, 27].» «Love those who hate you, and pray for those who persecute you and injure you [Matth. V, 44].»

CHAPTER LXVII

For he himself, saying this, gave commands, and exercised you in tribulations as athletes unto constancy. You listen to him saying: «Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart [Matth. XI, 29],» and you have shown the imitation by deed, being slapped on the right cheek, you turn the other, and being stripped of your tunic, you yield the cloak as well, suffering injury and loss rather than rushing headlong to vengeance. But this has happened with more fortunate success for you than for others, in that you possess none of those things which the Lord has prohibited, knowing that such a way of life was becoming and adapted for soldiers and athletes. And so, no Dominical beatitude passes you by, which has not been committed to your work; for they are always in your hands, with the rewards annexed to them: you have become poor in spirit, and meek, and peacemakers, and merciful, and clean of heart, «but yours is the kingdom of heaven [Matth. V, 3-9].» Pray that we also may be made worthy of this, having become imitators of your works, whose reward is the promised enjoyment of the kingdom for all who are worthy with you, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom is glory forever. Amen.

Sequebantur apud Suaresium; 1° Tractatus moralis; 2° Epicteti Enchiridion seu Manuale; 3° Narratio monachi Pachon; quæ omnia, ut sublestæ omnino fidei, ad calcem operum amandavimus.

BY THE SAME THAT THOSE WHO LIVE IN THE DESERTS ARE SUPERIOR TO THOSE SETTLED IN CITIES, EVEN IF TO MANY OF THE INEXPERIENCED THE CONTRARY SEEMS TO BE THE CASE.

OF THE SAME ON THE EXCELLENCE OF MONKS OR That those who dwell in cities are more excellent than those who are quiet and silent in the deserts, even if to many inexperienced persons the contrary may seem to be true.

^A CAPUT I. Those who judge the crafts of any art without having experience are rightly very much mistaken in their judgment; and those who argue concerning matters of which they have not been initiated are expressing an absurd opinion about them, being ignorant of the diligent observation of each thing, inasmuch as their knowledge has not progressed by individual exercises to the state of habit. It is not, therefore, a thing to be wondered at if those who know not by experience how virtue is acquired condemn the monks living in mountains and caves, asserting that those who are engaged in the midst of men and living in cities are more approved than those who have withdrawn, and so much the more, as they claim that those who join hand-to-hand with opponents are more courageous than athletes wrestling in shadows. For, being ignorant of the grips that lead to a fall, and how many snares inflict ruin, they judge only active sins to be falls, ignoring the defeats and victories that occur in the mind; since sight is not naturally adapted to see these, as they are hidden and known only to God, the judge of the contest, and to the conscience of the one struggling. To them, especially, this knowledge is useful: to the one, as a wrestler, for the sake of prizes and crowns; and to the other, as the judge of the contest, as he is about to distribute the worthy rewards of labors. To me, such judges seem not at all to praise the soul adorned with hidden goods, but to admire the body shining with a visible form, and to celebrate the variegated garment ahead of the good state of the man who is clothed in it; for they deceive their senses with visible things, not wishing to apply their mind to the nature of realities. ^{B C}

CAPUT II. For just as that which is inside a cup must by all means be clean for the pleasure of the one drinking, so the heart