Anonymous

ANONYMOUS LIFE OF ST. NICHOLAS THE STUDITE

(COMBEFIS. Auctar. nov. II, 889.)

MONITUM.

Although it was by no means my intention to write out in this book the Lives of individual saints, a task in which others are busily engaged and for which they have praise; yet I could not command myself not to bring to light this Life of Nicolaus Studita, hitherto obscure, through which I saw that much light would be added to ecclesiastical history and to the deeds performed in the East under many worthless emperors, to the great glory of the confessors of Christ; so that it might also be known thereafter who this Nicolaus Studita was and how great his merit: he whom Pope Nicolaus requested to be sent on behalf of Ignatius, and who, along with others likewise chosen, was to plead the cause at Rome against the usurper Photius. Baronius relates that letter of Nicolaus, along with others, and it can be seen in him. I was inclined to select only those historical matters, but friends deterred me and, as I was somewhat reluctant, compelled me to the edition of the entire work. The royal codex from which I transcribed it is ancient, written by a hand more simple than learned, so that I have sometimes found it necessary to correct the solecisms and evident barbarisms of the scribe or copyist; otherwise the author is learned and not inelegant; he was himself a Studite monk, but further removed from Nicolaus’s time.

^A Vita Patris nostri ac confessoris Nicolai, praepositi monasterii sanctissimi Studii. ^A Βίος τοῦ ὁσίου Πατρὸς ἡμῶν καὶ ὁμολογητοῦ Νικολάου, ἡγουμένου τῆς εὐαγεστάτης μονῆς τῶν Στουδίου.

Those to whom the Olympic contests are set as the theme of praise, and who wish to attribute honors next to divine to those in them, strive to raise the praise to a height by means of rhetorical speeches, yielding the sum of the matter to the efficacy of words and to a sweet elocution; so that, clearly, the law of discipline rather than the truth of things is accurately praised. For it is naturally so arranged that whatever is held in desire, one aims to carry above others. But those who admire the gloriously performed deeds of the greatest men, and wish to honor them with these, do not at all prove the sum of their courage by rhetorical persuasions or by the syllogisms of philosophy; nay, rather, by the sole explanation of the truth, and by present- ^B ing their deeds in a summary fashion, they describe their virtue excellently, and make the magnitude of the contests openly testified.

Age then, we also, since the speech undertaken by us brings forward that great light of piety and our common Father Nicolaus into the midst by the power of the word, let us describe some small portion of his affairs as far as our capability allows, as a kind of fuel for memory that will be profitable for the utility of the readers; and let us draw forth and declare to those who come after, even if somewhat crudely yet while being devoted to the truth, records that have for a long time been covered in silence and obscured by the depths of oblivion, for the sake of duty. For nothing is of profit to the righteous man, even if the things reported for ^C

^A the praise of those who are instructed by many should be established; but the peoples will rejoice, conveying to their soul the profit from what they have heard. For "When the righteous are praised, many people shall rejoice" (Prov. xi, 10). And especially we, the people of Christ, the holy flock, those who are at once lovers of the fatherland and lovers of God, as we are called, and who on each occasion of this feast enjoy [its] joy, by sitting watch at his tombs and sharing in the touch of his sacred and spiritual images—which is sufficient, for the sake of the image of virtue alone, for us to pride ourselves on these things more than others.

But let Christ our God be our guide, the Word of the Father, and the wisdom and power of God, correcting the sluggish and slothful state of our ^B impassioned mind; and may He offer the Word in the "opening of [our] mouth" (Eph. vi, 19), and move our hand toward the stylus to narrate the Father's [life], taking up the labor of the account from every side, just as the Word Himself takes up care.

This man—so that we may linger a little while in the fatherland that nurtured him—was indeed born in Crete, the most glorious island, which was then supported by the freedom of Christ and boasted of its strength and the magnitude of its buildings. Yet even now, the formerly abominable offshoots of Agar on it, and the most wicked offspring of the slave girl of Israel, have enslaved the newly-gathered flock that had progressed into the image of Christ out of Isaac, the servant—the progeny of the whip—having waged war against us using the arms of our own evils. ^C For by the setting aside of the commandments, having pushed away the help from above, and by the mixing of pleasures having corrupted the nobility of the soul, we were delivered, to speak in the words of Scripture, "into an unwise nation" (Deut. xxxii, 21; Rom. x, 19), enslaved by the mutual shedding of blood.

But so that the discourse, in proceeding in order, may have its utility, let there be brought into the middle the one who first held the rudder of this piety, the great apostle Titus, and let him demonstrate what the "vessel of election" set forth concerning its inhabitants, marking out in his words the law of the Spirit. For since he saw ^D that they, through intemperance, were persistently insane in every vice...

NOTES OF FRANCISCUS COMBEFIS

(2) The author indicates that he lived in his own time, although it signifies that he wrote long after the death of Nicolas, whose middle age was about the time the Turks captured the island; namely, under Michael, the father of Theophilus. Therefore he wrote before the times of Nicephorus Phocas, by whom and by his brother Leo it was recovered, as is clear from the acts of St. Nicon the Armenian monk, by whose preaching the faith was restored on that island. But what Baronius in his Annals relates from Curopalates, that it was recovered by them after it had been occupied for nearly forty years, is erroneous.

^A it was that he said the following to him: "Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, slow bellies." He does not mean this as a judgment on the entire pious race of the Cretans, through the power of the expression; rather, conversely, this discourse marks those who, by their license in living, and by a life almost like that of brute animals, bring shame upon the purity of the soul through the opposite baseness of the belly, which is weighed down by worldly passions. For it is the custom of Scripture, on account of the hidden and invisible nature of the soul, to call it figuratively at one time the "womb" and at another time the "belly," as having the capacity to receive and then to give back the food produced from the word: even if here, in another way, the flaccidity of idleness is assumed. For, truly, the souls of such men are called "slow bellies" and "evil beasts" by the Apostle, because they are more prone to erupt in luxury than to receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Therefore, the great Nicholas was far from the sort of people designated here; standing far removed from such customs, and becoming rather the glory of his homeland, he obtained a share of honor above all others. For as darkness is to light, and death to life, so are virtues contrary to profane souls, and vice versa. It is clear, moreover, that this proverb is not the Apostle’s, but belongs to Epimenides the Cretan, the seer. Yet, having discussed these matters just in passing, let us now turn our pen to the man himself, God granting speech in the opening of the mouth.

^B His homeland, then, as we have already said, was the soil of the Cretans; his own city, called Cydonia, whose glory of title is, as it were, an overflowing spring of goods. For it is irrigated on all sides by pure and limpid streams, and it produces grain, wine, and other fruits more abundantly than elsewhere. Indeed, the illustrious martyr Basilides, of famous glory, from that venerable decade of martyrs, was also born of this city; in which our athlete’s parents, having their dwelling, were praised by the mouths of all, not merely for the fame of their lineage, but on account of their piety. For in the same way that iron is drawn by the magnet, so is praise accustomed to follow those endowed with virtue in the eyes of all.

By their own piety toward God, having been graced by the gift of fortunate offspring, they brought forth this great man; and as a little child in Christ, together with his other ^C pious relatives— ^D

^A, they instructed him, bringing his bodily age up to the service of the Spirit. For the tender and yielding nature of infanthood is not in the least hardened against a guide, but rather is fashioned toward whatever he wills. Thus, it requires great sobriety, and even more so, great attentiveness, so that one does not lead the pupil differently than is proper. But as alumni of the Church, they also cared for his upbringing through it, teaching him letters and the doctrines of piety. Hence, his beginning was thus excellently formed by those who brought him forth, ^B being fashioned in the best and most pure way—what the divine David aptly names the "matutinal," as opposed to the "nocturnal."

When the prime of his age had counted its first decade of years, and the grasping of the elements had sufficiently formed the mind of the youth for receiving disciplines, perceiving that he must from above, being called by the Father of lights, ascend to the first step of the beatitudes—to become poor in spirit and likewise humbled in body—he goes to Byzantium, the queen of all cities, and is sent by his parents to the eminent and renowned gymnasium of virtue—the great cenobium, I mean, of the Studites—to his uncle by his father, named Theophanes, as if for a visit. For he was acting there as a trainer in the ascetic wrestling ground, at the time when the most lucid luminary and great defender and herald of truth, Theodore, had taken up the steering of that spiritual ship of brothers, illuminating the whole world with the splendor of pious dogmas.

The one named for the divine appearing ^C, having received his nephew with affection, kissed him; and he presented the boy to be blessed by the namesake of the Church’s gift, namely Theodore. And that fire-bright spark of piety, having seen with his discerning eye the grace of the youth and his aptitude for the acquisition of virtue, blessed him and, because of the youthfulness of his age, ordered that he be settled in the boys’ quarters of the monastery, not far off, to be educated in the learning of letters together with his peers. For the boys were kept privately nearby the monastery, dwelling always in one room under that great man, so that from this the disturbance to the ascetics might be avoided, and from thence, as a most excellent moderator of souls...

he took thought. ^A He advanced, therefore, in wisdom, age, and grace, entirely turning away from the studies of those of his own age. For from a child he was very bright and sober. For Providence, which has been pleased to crown mortals with the diversity of gifts from above, has bestowed upon us a natural character, for the most part akin to us, for the discernment of those who see; if, as a certain wise man said: "The attire, and the gait, and the laughter of a man, tell about him" (Eccl. xix, 27).

But since, as he advanced in age, he had learned in an exceedingly noble and studious manner the preliminary disciplines, and those by which an approach to greater things is opened up, and since it was necessary thereafter to acquire the skill of writing—that is, how to write correctly—he added this as well, having shown himself a most useful rapid scribe by the speed of his nature, by which most men are naturally capable of achieving such things. Whence, in a short time, giving proof to many of his way of life in Christ, he was admired by all; and under our common superior, while daily furrowing and cultivating the furrow of his soul with the plow of the commandments, he brought forth the fruits of manifold virtue. ^B First of all his peers, he would enter the divine temple of God, in which they held their station, and he would be the last of all to leave it; and by attentively inclining his ear to the sacred narrations of the Fathers, and turning over their lives day by day, he was enlightened, being led forward to the knowledge of what is better. For just as irrigation is an aid to a plant, and an abundance of fuel to fire for its sustenance, so, in whatever way you might receive it, the care of those who govern is the author of those who follow.

Now, having grown from a beardless youth into a man, and having reached perfection from an immature age, and hastening to destroy the sense of the flesh that wars against the law of the spirit, he put on the garment of salvation, being tonsured there, with our holy Father and confessor Theodore himself adorning him with his hands in the angelic monastic habit. ^C For it was proper that both, being destined to do much for the emulous and living likeness of our undefiled Christ God, should be like another Timothy, in the manner of Paul, reborn to this admirable athlete, so that thus through both, as through the aforementioned [apostles], our Gospel might run. For this blessed man, having surrendered himself wholly to his will, was as an inanimate person in what concerned him, being far and removed from his own will. And indeed, not only toward him, but also toward those who followed, both small and great, he displayed the same obedience with a gentle spirit and a constrained sense of it, exhibiting himself in a clear light; as a certain inanimate statue toward everyone, fixed by divine fear; and remaining inactive toward everything that might be seen as insolence and zeal, fury and anger, and hatred; so that he stunned his fellow monks, who himself... ^D

^A openly displayed to them a great demonstration of the hidden man.

For the love of piety allows no satiety of desire at all, so that the soul captured by it would not be carried off to the soul that longs for it; but by adding fire to fire, and longing to longing, it inflames the lover and renders him invincible toward anything whatsoever. For who embraced virtue more than he, possessing the wealth of humility in an eminent mind, and a lowly mind in sublime humility? Who trained his senses so well, preparing them to philosophize about things beyond sense by means of things sensible? Who, uniting prudence with courage as friendly powers, joined them as if to a Lydian chariot, to speak in the words of a poet, and accomplished this for himself? As a prudent steward, or even a faithful servant, he distributed with a just scale to each what was appropriate, both to the flesh and to the spirit.

^B Furthermore, the quality of temperance, the vigilance of wakefulness, the loftiest state of prayer, and the illumination of tears—who among the many could have exchanged one of these, as he alone exchanged them all? From these he procured temperance, from those contemplation, from others compunction, and from still others the sanctification of purity. Thence, according to Solomon, he called laughter a distraction (7), and the remaining pleasure of the body, mourning; for he took no delight in any of those things that seem sweet in this present age. For as if by bars, he encompassed his tripartite soul with the fear of God through dispassion, and did not allow the passions and desires to plunder the wealth of the spirit ^C through the senses. Whence he remained hereafter unshakable, hanging upon the truly desirable; and there is nothing, to speak briefly, of all things, as some wise man said, in which he did not surpass everyone.

Oh, why was it necessary for such a man, having performed deeds beyond nature while still in nature, and living as a perfect man in our generation, to be led up to a more perfect degree and placed upon the lampstand, receiving the great summit of virtues, the priesthood, as a reward for his labors? And in fact, he was advanced according to merit, and not by running forward like some ^D or by trafficking in the gift; but solely by the command of the Father and the entreaty of the common brotherhood. For the care of the many, and the approach to things beyond his strength, were sufficient for him for such obedience. For the lover of obedience does not fear danger

^A at any time, but commits himself entirely to the judgment of his guide.

And who could set forth the precision of his struggles after his priesthood? The great Paul, having preceded him, wrote of these things, describing in his discourse the great High Priest who has passed through the heavens; whom this man imitated as far as human frailty allows. And it is no wonder, if he was made a god by adoption, and by grace a son of the Highest.

Certainly, in his practical conduct and way of life, he did not fall short of sharing the labor with his brethren; but he was working with his hands, and copying books most excellently, ^B if anyone else was—I think with speed of hand, equaling that Asahel in the running of his feet. And the books and his own labors bear witness to this.

Assuredly, directed by the gifts of the Spirit, he was found by Titus, his brother according to the flesh, who was wandering, relating the capture of their homeland and the seizing of their parents there; and with many tears he narrated the ^C tragic suffering caused by the wild boars, the godless Ishmaelites, who slaughtered those created in the image of God. And thus he received the end, which the prophet Sophoniah had long before foreseen with prophetic eyes concerning this very thing: "Woe," he says, "to those who inhabit the corner of the sea, the sojourners of the Cretans; the word of the Lord is upon you; and I will destroy you from the habitation. And Crete shall be a pasture for flocks, ^D and a fold for sheep." For the sword is indeed brandished with the storms of temptations, and the bow of discipline is stretched out against us in many ways, proposing to us a turning away from sin. But when, not being improved by these things, we become worse, then, being humanely restrained, they bring upon us a grievous death instead of a benefit. Since the cup of the Lord is full of unmixed wine

^A of mixture. Nevertheless, this great man, having received his brother and having thoughtfully decided to have him tonsured, prepared him to run the same course; but he also showed him to be a true brother in his very manner of life.

Our common Father and servant of Christ, Nicholas, indeed had his own life as a silent exhortation; he also had his brother as a sort of exact image of his own virtues. And all, as if having some other sun in their midst, shining with the rays of virtues, had the God-given gift, the soul-profiting banqueter, the great Theodore. And it was truly a school of virtue, another paradise blooming with diverse kinds of flowers. And indeed, in addition to these, there was Joseph, the brother of our all-wise Father, who later became the renowned archbishop of the city of Thessalonica; and moreover, Timothy, Athanasius, and Naucratius, and many others, whom I omit for the sake of brevity, who dwelled in this earthly heaven. For those whom conduct joins, place also brings together; and those whom conduct separates, every place also drives apart. For a place is glorified by a man's conduct, and a man's conduct is praised in return, being cherished in a place. ^B For often the loss of habitual places, like the separation from companionable persons, is wont to produce great relaxation in the practice of virtue.

But while the vineyard of the Lord of Sabaoth was thus flourishing beautifully with branches and was heavy with fruit, covering with its shade the worldly passions—I mean the sinful and lofty motions of the mind—and, like certain offshoots, sending forth diverse and varied ornaments of virtue to the ends of the world; and while the Church of Christ was already being appropriately magnified in every rank and order, and was secure in the serenity of the straight dogmas of the faith, suddenly, like some cloud from the parts of the East, it unexpectedly and unhoped-for appeared, and filled everything with gloom. ^C For a certain Leo, appearing from the stock of the Armenians—a man truly wicked and most evil; holding to the mystery of piety in fable, not in truth, a primary Satan clear to many, and being so called—at the time when Michael was piously governing the scepter of the empire and the Huns (10) were already plundering the regions toward Liba, he appoints this first renegade as general, and sends him with many others to aid the empire against the aforementioned nation. This man, bringing with him a ferocity of will in accordance with his name, and hiding a secret plan within his heart—holding the heresy of his father Constantine Copronymus, who was also a Leo, and of his son, the little lion—this miserable man ^D rises up against the beneficent God, the King of all, and against His kingdom.

^A And the foolish man, having deceived the military ranks serving under him with the lavish distribution of gifts, and having arrived at the Thracian regions outside the city, is impiously proclaimed emperor against the pious Christians by the wicked; and he enters the palace, openly heard to be an Iconoclast emperor. Having remained silent for a short little while—and this deceitfully, so that he might secure the palace affairs for himself—he soon opened his mouth against heaven, belching forth blasphemy against Christ, the God of all; saying that the holy figures of images ought not to be set up, as such icons were idols and images of demons.

O, the insanity! For he did not understand that the statue of shame, whose prototypes clearly possess the opposing character, naturally also has the derivatives taken from them. For things that have a contrary relationship to one another entirely bring an opposing communion to each other. For the distinctness of the one from the other—I mean, of the idol and the icon—is known through each of them, just as that of Christ and Belial is. For an idol, as a lie, pretends to the likeness of the archetype; but an icon, as being truly similar to it, is properly named after it. But that miserable man, who bears the name of a beast, did not wish to discern any of this; but, acting like a Corybant, so to speak, and raging with fury against Christ and His most unstained form, and having found some men who were truly corrupt in mind and in all things agreeing with his own wicked designs, he thought that through them he would make the mystery of Christian piety a fable. Yet he was unable to accomplish this; and although he attacked like an arrow, striking forcefully, he was blunted as he crashed more powerfully against the champions of the Church. ^C For when he had gathered in one of the sacred halls of the palace a crowd of priests and of our Fathers, with the soldiery standing around him, he sat in the midst, presiding with an arrogant and roaring mind, haranguing against the great high priest and his companions, as if they had erroneously consented to the restoration of the venerable images. And then, seeing them in turn cutting through his prattling nonsense in various ways with the sword of the Spirit, and although—as compared to no one else, save for the hero and our great Father—^D he could not prevail against the defenders of the faith...

the miserable man, struck by the boldness of the hero, fumed into ^A a state of madness. In his wrath, he expelled everyone from the palace and immediately fixed the place of exile for each of them.

Hence, the Chief Priest—who takes his name from victory—is sent into exile; and all who respectfully honored the image of Christ are likewise exiled. But before all, so that I may not recount the many things, there was also exiled that light-bearing, common, and God-given delight of the Church, I mean [Father Theodore], ^B along with his disciple and noble champion and confessor, Father Nicholas. For when his speech wandered here and there, weak and barely holding itself together, Theodore—reaching out his hand with compassion—brought it back. Even if he does not cover the subject in a comprehensive or individual way, he makes clear in this history that the struggle was common to both teachers. But let no one blame us for this. For we have not intended to adorn these matters with artificial persuasions, but by truth alone. We shall increase his eulogy from the Father, provided that our discourse does not ^C inadvertently cheapen the testing of their works, nor through ignorance render them unworthy. For in addition to his exile, and the unproclaimed war that the impious waged through the land against this noble man, he remained with the Father, ministering to him, enduring to the utmost his bodily privations, and proving himself in all things a good counselor, a capable assistant to him. But these matters must be left to the all-praised Father Theodore, who in diverse ways wove the crown of his manliness through his letters. ^D As for us, let us now hold to what is set before us. For since the condemned king brought forth his verdict with uncontrolled anger against these blameless and blessed men, and [sent them] as outlaws into a certain fortress—

near the Apolloniad lake, bearing the name Metopa, they spent a full year there in confinement. As the report of them spread everywhere, and their disciples and many others approached them in secret, and everyone was almost being transformed toward the orthodox struggle for the faith, the new Amalekite—that emperor unworthy of the purple—somehow became aware of the situation. At once, he sent and transferred them to another fortress in the eastern theme called Bonita, 15 having enjoined that no one under any circumstances was to see them or even hold any conversation with them concerning the faith.

But let us not seem to ramble beyond our purpose by prolonging our discourse too much; come, having pushed away the many waves from the stern, let us declare the violence of that savage prison. For when the great Theodore was, by means of his letters, drawing back to the path of piety not only his neighbors, but also those dwelling at a great distance who had consented to be led away after the impious heresy—one of these letters, 16 unexpectedly and I know not how, happened to fall into the hands of that lion-hearted man. It was a letter which, describing from the beginning the adoration of the holy icons rendered to the confessors of Christ, pilloried the fierce and innovative insanity of the emperor’s doctrine. Enkindled with fury, and roaring in a manner worthy of his name like a nefarious lion, he sent with great speed a satellite to inflict blows. He, arriving in a rage and threatening, led the holy men out of the place where they were being held; and, acting lawlessly—indeed, being more lawless than the lawless emperor—in a frenzy of anger, he lashed the great Nicholas in the presence of Father Theodore with a hundred bull-hide whips, and then in turn beat the other with the same. Having thus reduced the blessed men in this common struggle to a state of being almost speechless, he placed them in a dungeon, blocked up the door, and left them, having commanded that they be finished off by starvation.

Who, in recounting the violence inflicted on the saints by this deed, could ever adequately express the magnitude of their struggle? Who could describe the plots they suffered from their guards, the beastly rage, and the necessity of destitution? For neither was their venerable old age a motive for mercy to the impious men, nor was the sobriety of their youth held in any regard; rather, these miserable wretches, barking like dogs by night and day in their hatred toward them, ^D and—

^A depriving them even of necessary food; they would go for two or even four days, or sometimes for a whole week, at a time, scarcely throwing them a small scrap of bread, and the wretches even denied them water itself. And it is not truly possible to express in language the magnitude of that violence endured. Did they, therefore, because of this trial, lose in the least their steadfastness in the dogmas, or did they appear, by showing weakness in their struggles, to have surrendered their freedom of speech? Not at all. Observe, rather, their bravery from this, and the greater resonance of their preaching.

For when their bodies had not yet fully healed ^B or formed scars from their previous wounds, another wicked messenger, more impious than the impious emperor himself, came breathing slaughter and driven by a certain frenzy; having broken down the enclosure of the prison, he led the God-bearing men out with confused shouting; and holding in his hands a letter which they were supposed to have written against the emperor, he showed it to them and forced them to declare when, how, and to whom they had sent it.

Observe, then, the other struggle and labor of these noble athletes. For when they had confessed that it was composed and sent by them, and for what reason it had been done, the accursed man, having turned into a rage, ^C commanded that the brave adamant of the Church, the great Nicolaus, be immediately stripped. While men held him suspended by both hands, others pitilessly struck him with bull-hide whips. The blood of the martyr flowed down to the ground; and the wicked man, seeing him being beaten for a sufficiently long time without a word, his miserable soul exasperated, ordered that he be left thus naked and covered in blood to perish in the open air and cold. For it was wintertime, indeed the third day of the present month of February, when this happened to the saints.

Immediately, foaming with rage, he approached the pillar of piety, Theodorus, and ^D after beating him again with many lashes, returned in turn to the great Nicolaus, and like winter storms, casting many shafts of words, he tried to draw him away from his devotion to the Father. But he, keeping watch over him and encouraging him, provoked the wicked man, who was hindering him from his duty. Indeed, the latter, like an asp bearing the sharpened venom upon his lips, ordered that his arms and forearms be beaten again with what are called *rhecas*, but also that by both hands a flesh-eating...

dog of a man, stretching them out for many hours, should torture him. Then, likewise mixing flatteries with his threats, the most hateful wretch tried to persuade him to renounce the faith. But as if beating against a rock, he saw the sea's waves breaking into foam; and the tyrant, having utterly failed, shut the miserable man inside the prison with the Father, having barred the door from the outside, and then he himself also departed, put to shame. ^A From such a scourging, it was possible to see the arms of the martyr Nicholas no less swollen than burnt logs. For by the flaying of the whips, and by the tension of the cords that had stretched the nerves—hindered by the violence of the natural motion seeking to turn inward—it lay there like some heavy, unbearable burden, a piteous spectacle to those who saw it, triumphant in the form of a cross. And it would have remained fashioned in such a state, had not the guards, being somewhat less beastly, perceiving the violence to be beyond the nature of the physical, provided them—though due to poverty it was requested more frequently—with warm water and lard for Father Theodore. By his prayers, tenderly smoothing it with a sponge and anointing the wounds daily, he dissolved in a few days that incurable agony of the hands and granted physical health completely to his disciple. And indeed, the great Nicholas himself also appeared to show the same service of pious care to the Father, skillfully cutting away the flesh that had been necroticized by the force of the torments, hanging from his body like rags, and caring for the Father in every respect. ^B What and how great the hardships were that they endured during all that three-year space, detained in that narrow and dark corner of the prison, it is not even easy to say. For who, I ask, could describe even somewhat fully the truly serious and neglected swelling of the body resulting from the torments that befell the saints? For they were not contending only against an iniquitous emperor and impious prefects, but they were also struggling against the law of nature itself, wrestling against hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness. ^C And indeed, when no small amount of time had passed, the cruel emperor again transferred them from that place to the metropolis of Smyrna: prison and scourges awaited them, and both were bound by the feet in wooden stocks. And for twenty ^D months they remained in this [19] state, having spent the time in custody, and having risen above the afflictions of the body, their...

^A Having remained in prison, and having risen above the afflictions of the body, they showed that their virtue—as if in the fire of torture—was insuperable even against death itself. The One who justly bends the bow of His wrath and removes the adversaries, as the Prophet says, He who does not let the rod of the sinners be raised against the lot of the righteous, that they might be mocked, remembered the groaning of the prisoners, and [dealt with] the lion-named beast who had devoured Jacob. Wherefore it pleased Him that in the very places where he had held the divine incarnation of Emmanuel in derision, he himself should be slaughtered, and thus miserably breathe out his soul in a manner he did not expect. And he clearly met the end spoken of in the oracle of Solomon concerning him. For it says: "The fool hath folded his hands together, and hath eaten his own flesh." ^B To this, the sacred trumpet of Isaiah also fittingly chimed in, saying: "As a garment stained in blood, it shall not be clean; so neither shall you be, because you have destroyed my land, and killed my people." Since, therefore, the emperor had fallen miserably in such an astonishing death within the holy temple of God, there arose in his place—not some sun rising with its dawn to provide morning light for the illustration of the day—but, if one might say so, a morning star emerging from the lightless and dark night, providing a day, and yet not a day, to the faithful. For Michael, of the excubitors, having seized the scepters of the Romans—though he was known to be stuffed with the leaven of the heresy—nevertheless released the confessors of Christ from the insupportable punishment which his predecessor had applied, showing himself to be good and humane to them in all things. ^C And it was possible to see those who had been wasted by various afflictions and worn down by long imprisonment, dancing together spiritually, as if exulting in their struggles, like calves released from their bonds.

Then indeed those great pillars of piety, Theodore and Nicholas, departing from Smyrna, relying solely upon their staff, and traveling on foot from place to place, came to the regions of Prusa; and from there, finally seeking Chalcedon, and having at length looked upon the trophy-bearing patriarch, and having dwelt with him with much joy for a sufficient time. ^D Then that common pastor, seeing

^A these men bearing the stigmata of Jesus in their whole body, honored and revered them, and at all times he honored them with the offerings of his words as if with a banquet. Away with the envy that is stirred up against them, and let the senseless ones (21) lay their hand upon their mouths—those who, by their own wickedness, until now calumniate the luminaries of the world by slandering one another with unbridled tongues.

However, the high priest, taking these good advisors to himself, together with these prominent metropolitans, had judged it worth the effort to come to the sight of the ruler, expecting to overthrow the scandals that had crept into the Church. And indeed, having employed a certain person in authority as a mediator, they entered before the emperor, and having offered thanks for all things—each as he was able having devoted himself to the emperor—the great Theodore had already proposed ^B the argument concerning the dogmas of the Church; for the one who bears the name of victory had urged him to set forth the things concerning the faith. The ruler, thunderstruck by his words, and, to speak plainly, not wishing to provide a solution for the Church—inasmuch as he happened to be the leader and champion of the Iconoclasts—said to the God-bearing Theodore: "You," he said, "have a habit of resisting the scepters," as if reproaching the full-voiced rebuke of liberty which that common torch of the Church, like an emulator of Phinehas, had wrought under the two emperors, Constantine and Nicephorus. For indeed, he had before his soul’s eyes the most miserable death which the man had also prophesied ^C to the emperor Nicephorus in Bulgaria, because of that senseless insistence upon the adulterous marriage (23); and being struck by fear—for he said that even enemies revere the virtue of such a man—he dismissed them with moderate words. Indeed, with the greatest—

^A peace of mind, after the emperor had most willingly confirmed the holy senate of the Fathers with the oath of security, he ordered them, now empty of all apprehension regarding the right dogmas, to depart from the palace.

Congruously, however, since we have reached this point in our discourse, I have thought it well to add something conducive to the salvation of souls to the present work—that event of that time in Bulgaria under the Emperor Nicephorus, as I already mentioned before: which he also commanded to be written down, I mean he who received me, unworthy as I am, into the monastic life, and who for many years has governed and ruled our monastery as a common teacher of virtue; and who comes to us to increase the encomium of monastic deeds. I know that you all know our shepherd Anatolius. Providing a table for the nourishment of the soul, he began the joy of this spiritual feast in approximately this manner. ^B

A disciple, he says, of this our holy Father Nicholas, Cyprian by name, was in the habit of visiting each year a certain old man who had his dwelling in exile, and who bore a life worthy of his old age and similar to that of the angels, as the discourse will duly show in its progress. Seeing and marveling at Cyprian’s long-standing affection for him from his boyhood, as if it were a possession by hereditary right, he left this narrative of the struggle he had undergone to the young man, communicating through him the benefit of it to all.

For he used to say: "While I was still of a youthful age, I happened to be enrolled in the company of the Scholares. And when the Emperor Nicephorus had moved with the whole army against the Scythians, it happened that, by some chance, such as is wont to occur in human affairs, I was left utterly alone, and was following along behind the army. ^C And at a certain place, in the regions of Thrace, when evening had overtaken me, wishing to spend the night there, I was received by a woman who was very wealthy, and who was—as I suppose—accustomed to host those passing by. She, setting before me a rich table and offering me dinner with much cheerfulness of spirit, showed an insatiable kindness toward me. Whence, even after the meal and feasting, arranging for me to sleep on a high bedstead, she granted me much rest, completely dissolving all the fatigue of the journey.

But the devil, who always envies the good, did not allow even this good thing to proceed without harm; but, the foolish one sowing in the woman an evil desire, he urged her to be united with me in a shameful manner. And rising from the bed where she was sleeping, she comes to me as I slept, dragging me on with the language of shame to the forbidden intercourse. But I, as much as I was able, repelling her from me, said, 'By right and with merit, ^D

I said to her, "O woman, even if the war with the barbarians were not on a razor's edge, ^A it behooves one to keep chastity inviolate according to the laws of God. But if justice is the armor of war, since I, miserable wretch, have been struck down by the sword of pleasure and have slaughtered my own soul, how shall I proceed to the struggle against the enemies, having already died myself before the war?" She, having perceived these words and withdrawn a little, stood before me again, goading my desire with the same words. But I nevertheless rejected her a second time, irrigating her with words that called her to chastity. When I saw her pressing on for a third time, and wanting to drag me down to the depth of hell, I then roared vehemently, and threatened her with death by my own sword at that very hour. Rising from there and mounting my horse, I accomplished the journey I had intended at a rapid pace.

• Then she, suspecting that the story would be made public by me, and seeking my death, sent her slaves after me, ordering them to kill me entirely. But God, being merciful, ^B delivered his servant from the death they sought, as well as from the soul-destroying injury of that woman, and by another wondrous way caused me to proceed in the right path.

• When, not long ago, I had reached the borders of Bulgaria, and, being utterly alone without any other companion for the journey, was traveling inside them, I approached a certain mountain, my mind preoccupied with thoughts. And indeed, at that very hour, I, wretched man, was truly pondering the divine providence and the calamity that had come upon me, being utterly dissolved in tears, when I suddenly heard ^C a voice from above, from the summit of the mountain, calling me. Struck by fear, because I was utterly alone, and breathing with difficulty and trembling, I turned my face toward the one calling; and having raised my eyes, I beheld a spectacle strange and beyond nature: a man dressed in white, gigantic in stature, and old in years, whose garments shone like the sun. He, stretching out his hand, ordered me to ascend to him quickly. I, having immediately cast off the burden of my timidity, and being mingled with joy, ascended, and finding him sitting on the ground, I fell prone and worshipped him. He, having graciously invoked a blessing upon me, ordered me to rise and stand at his right side. He had his feet ^D stretched out on the ground in a certain way; and with his hand he pointed out for me to gaze upon the plain lying below the mountain, full of bodies, and the multitude of armies established within it along with the emperor; and he asked me if I could distinguish between the foreign camps and our own.

• When I had openly confessed these things to him, "Do not be afraid," he said to me. And as they were being drawn up, brandishing their weapons to defend their respective lines, this one, lifting his right foot, placed it upon the left. Then I see our army, with great force, falling upon the army of the adversaries, and...

entirely cutting it to pieces. And since the Scythians were being utterly destroyed, and were about to turn their backs upon their slayers, this man again lifted his left foot and placed it upon the right. Thereupon the barbarians rose up and were piteously pressing ^A hard upon our men, slaughtering them. I, however, as if beside myself and struck dumb by this paradoxical spectacle, stood gazing at what was taking place—observing both this changing and shifting of his feet, and the bitter and most sharp slaughter of those falling by the sword. And thus, until the setting of the sun, in such a manner and posture, he awarded the victory to each side by the movement of his feet; and having adjusted them so, he caused them to lie in an equal state with the rest of his body, and they too, putting an end to their mutual fighting, dissolved that terrible war. ^B

Then he, rising and standing upright, asked me if I could count the multitude of the fallen, and if any place had been left behind devoid of a dead body. When I pleaded my inability and openly confessed that I could not clearly discern such a place—save for one small patch, so far as one might guess, the size of a cow’s lair, which I suspected to be in the midst of the slaughtered—he himself, pointing to it with his finger, responded: "Do you see this spot," he says, "which lies devoid of a dead body? It is yours, and belongs to no one else. For in it you were to have died with the others, to be handed over as food to the birds. But because you kept your body undefiled, and did not pollute your soul with the passion of shame, for this reason God has mercifully delivered you from that terrible and fearful necessity and bitter death." ^C Having said these things, he vanished from my eyes.

Then I, with much trembling and wonder, inclining my head as I was shaken with fear, and having worshipped the holy ground where his feet had stood, departed from the mountain and, making the journey back throughout the whole night, arrived here in a few days, having resolved in my mind that I, humble though I be, and unworthy, would serve God, who had saved me through this manifestation, by taking up this habit.

"You, therefore, also, my son Cyprian, when temptations come upon you, do not be downcast, but endure manfully, and always keeping in mind the virtue of chastity, you will have God as your helper, who does not overlook those who hope in Him." Having thus brought our narrative to an end here, though it is somewhat of a digression, yet is it profitable, let us turn our pen to the history of our common Fathers.

For since Caesar Michael, as has been said above, although we have digressed a little from our purpose, had refused to have the strength of the faith as an ally, and on that account, due to the utter boorishness of a rustic mind, had decreed that everyone might think according to their own pleasure—a decision ^D that it was by no means permitted for those

who clung to the venerable veneration of the icons to sit within the city. Our holy Fathers Theodore and Nicholas, having bid farewell to the most holy patriarch and to all who were with him, departed for the place near the gulf of Prusa which had been previously indicated, and dwelt there. ^A Yet when the deceiver of the people, Thomas, raged against the world, at the command of the emperor they were again—even if against their will—brought back to the imperial city. Shortly after leaving it, they sought out the peninsula near the promontory of Acritas, which bears the name of the great martyr Tryphon. There, at last, the end of the common life caught up with the most glorious and blessed Father, Theodore, who departed to the Lord in great renown on the eleventh day of the month of November. His blessed tabernacle was then translated to the island called Principus, and committed to a glorious and holy burial. Some of the sacred teachers of the Church have written concerning this, depicting his noble deeds for perpetual memory, as a kind of gift for the common benefit of the Christian commonwealth.

^B Nicholas, that shining pillar of the Church, having been orphaned of his spiritual Father, clung assiduously to the tomb, adding struggles to struggles and the sweat of monastic exercise to his other labors, daily lamenting the loss of his Father according to the custom of this age. To this place many Byzantines, and especially those of the senatorial order, as well as many from the neighboring regions, flocked to him, knowing him to be a mirror of compassion and adorned with the varied splendor of virtues. He, receiving them with the rectitude of heart that was his, and embracing them with paternal bowels of mercy, applied the appropriate remedy to each member. By all he was loved as an upright healer of the diseases of the soul, and revered as a confessor of Christ.

^C Furthermore, when Michael was taken from the living and his son Theophilus had seized the scepters of the empire, war against the pious was again renewed, and dire lashes were brought to bear upon them. At that time, those two lights rose for us out of the region of Moab to [adorn?] the Church of Christ. ^D

FRANC. COMBEFIS'S NOTES

...Those of St. Theodore were born in the city of Jerusalem itself, which is far distant from the land of Moab; for so writes the Metaphrast or whoever the author of that Life is: "Palestine brought him forth, which God, bestowing as an inheritance upon Abraham, rightly called the land of promise; the city, however, is Jerusalem. To which, certainly, it would be praise enough, even if it had no other ornaments of honor, that Christ himself in the flesh came forth from it, and from it a most numerous chorus of prophets and patriarchs went forth; and that chosen and most gracious cohort of the apostles had its origin from there."

^A At that time, when two luminaries had arisen for us and set the Church of Christ ablaze with the rays of their dogmas, manifesting themselves to us as God-bearing Fathers—I speak of Theodore and Theophanes, brothers by nature, and indeed brothers also in the faith—that man who denied the love of God by his deeds, and was called by the misnomer ^B Theophilus, because they worshipped and venerated Christ in an image, seized them, and after many tortures, impiously branded their faces, and set before men a strange theater, hitherto unknown to the world.

Then, too, a certain pious woman, seeing our Father Nicholas worn out by frequent changes of place on account of the obscuring darkness of the heresy that prevailed, and wishing, like another Shunammite for the great Elisha, to provide him hospitality, brought him to this place—not far from the city, towards the Thracian parts, where she possessed a very quiet suburb—and offered it to the servant of Christ, fittingly adapting the thing to the name, and bestowing upon him, as a great gift, ^C peace (Irene)—even as she herself was named Irene—together with the property. He dwelt there, therefore, fearing the snares of the heretics. Afterwards, however, he annexed it to his own monastery, which bears the name of the city of Phirmus.

When Theophilus had at last died, and had been consigned to the tomb—a burial lamentable, as I judge, and rightly circumscribed with the heresy—and when his Christ-loving wife, Theodora, together with her son Michael, still but a youth, had taken up the reins of the Roman empire, and when the impious Jannes, as a prelude to eternal punishment, had likewise been cast out from the divine office; and when the great Methodius held the helm of the Church as pontiff, through the gathering of the God-bearing Fathers, the festival of Orthodoxy began—serenity having already attained the ends of the earth, and the confessors of Christ, like stars, adorned the entire firmament of the Church more brightly.

^D Then, too, our common Father, the servant of Christ, Naucratius, returning from exile, came to Byzantium; and for the merit of his struggles, the illustrious man was received with great honor by the Empress and the patriarch himself. At their request, he undertook the leadership of the sacred fraternity of the brethren, then gathered together in the most venerable monastery of Studium—which the great Theodore, having previously nurtured it with many labors, had increased, bringing the number of the multitude almost to a thousand. And once again that flock of Christ was vigorous with new strength, resembling a certain paradise, producing many roses of virtues, and [alt-version omitted]

the fragrance of the Spirit. ^A Our Father Nicolaus, hunting on all sides for the dear quiet he had enjoyed for so long from his struggles in prison, and being pricked by this desire daily, desired to dwell together with the brethren as much as friendship demanded; however, he was not permitted to do so because of his zeal for the better life, desiring continually to labor in his beloved solitude. Wherefore, spending most of his time in the aforementioned lodging, he very rarely gave himself to the company of the Fathers here.

At this time, the illustrious and joy-filled translation of our confessor and holy Father Theodorus from the island of Principos to our monastery also took place, through the providence of the most pious Augusta and the great high priest, with the concurrence of the whole body of the Church. He was gloriously laid to rest on the twenty-sixth of January, next to his grandfather on his mother’s side, the renowned and God-inspired Plato, along with his brother Joseph the bishop, ^B at the right hand toward the east side of the church of the holy Forerunner; in which place also the sacred relics of the glorious victors and martyrs are laid.

When Methodius, that champion and herald of piety, had migrated to that blessed lot, and Ignatius had taken up the reins of the high priesthood, that admirable and truly renowned man of many struggles, Naucratius, on the eighteenth of April, slept and rested in the same place, leaving as his successor our blessed Father Nicolaus, who had suffered so much. And he, pondering in his mind the magnitude of the dignity and its burden, and always carrying with him as his housemate and domestic fortress of virtues his humility, took this matter heavily, mourning it. Nevertheless, yielding to the many entreaties of the Fathers, he accepted this ordination, knowing that this is humility in its truest sense: that a person should value things chosen by many as superior to what he himself approves by his own will.

For a period of three years, he had guided that noble merchant-ship of the brethren with great decorum toward the growth of virtues, with the breezes of the divine Spirit blowing, ^C as the discourse has already clearly shown, ^D being a lover of quiet as no other was; and inflamed more vehemently by this desire, he could no longer bear the darting arrows of his thoughts. Having explained a few things about this matter in a speech made before the Fathers, he finally proposed one who would manage the prefecture in his place: Sophronius by name, a man shining with the dignity of the presbyterate, who nonetheless sealed the grace of his title with the increase of temperance in his very deeds. For they say—as happens not rarely in his speech with a certain simplicity and sincerity—that the blessed man himself would sometimes say for the benefit of his hearers that never, from the time he had put on the monk’s habit, had he...

taken such a quantity of any food, be it bread, or wine, or any other victual capable of nourishing, as would fully satisfy his belly. ^A

He, therefore, having left his flock in the presence of the pontiff, the most holy man went out and took up residence in the aforementioned hostelry in the city of Firmus. He was pleased with the place, though he sought the place more for the sake of the manner of life for which it was a fitting site. But when the illustrious Sophronius had for four years excellently fostered the monastery, and had attained the reward of his sagacity in the wealth of good works, and had migrated to the Lord on the third day of the month of November, the monks, who loved their Father and could no longer bear the absence of the holy man, set out for his private retreat of quietude, compelled him, as one who loved his sons, to undertake the governance, and led him back to the monastery; and the Father daily rejoiced in his children.

Therefore, since the one who was named after the gift—who had been granted as a gift to the Church of Christ—I mean the Christ-loving and most pious Empress, had been cast out of the palace by her son Michael, who had by now outgrown the babbling of infancy; and since the young sovereign had adopted for himself a wicked counselor, namely Bardas, his own uncle, and the two had so partitioned the commonwealth between them—one appropriating the empire, the other the title of Caesar—they caused no small confusion of wills among the subject people, and in their own estimation, while they themselves violated the divine laws against one another. ^B For he, indeed, lifted his brow against his mother; and the other, besides this, sinned even against nature itself, having rashly patterned his action contrary to nature. For see what was happening. For that wretched Caesar, Bardas, having wickedly run mad against the marriage bed of his son, was known as a new spouse with his own daughter-in-law, a strange and mismatched couple ^C raving in their madness.

Therefore the pontiff of God, and the namesake of the God-bearer, I say Ignatius, planning as far as possible to correct this tragedy, did not cease, as indeed the law of God demands, to remind, to entreat, and to rebuke; hoping from these things that the excision of that pollution would by all means come to pass. But the love of that lawless union did not allow the miserable man to come to his senses at all. But when he saw the wretch bowed down ^D and a slave to the most egregious,

^A sin lasting unto the end, he barred him from the holy thresholds of the Church, thereby proposing to him the path of correction. But he, irrationally carried away by his anger and desire, arrogantly turns his power into tyranny; and roaring in the presence of all the people, having seized the temple with a haughty spirit, and having entered within the holy of holies, he demanded from the high priest the participation in the fearful mysteries.

But that zealot, having publicly set before him the conviction of his lawlessness with the sharp-pointed goad of his words, pierced him grievously to the heart, and drove him out of the church empty and shamed. But he, maddened with rage, finally persuades the monarch to depose the great Ignatius from his throne; which also happened not long after. What then? After he had been tyrannically thrust out, they put forward a certain man, Photius by name, who was at that time serving primarily as secretary, and who was renowned for his piety and great learning; and having immediately ordered him to be shorn, they invest him with the honors of the high priesthood. And what need is there to recount individual seeds of discord that sprang up from this, seeing that they are manifest to all the fosterlings of the Church? But the topic must be adapted to our shepherd, Nicholas.

This man, therefore, having dedicated himself entirely to Christ and God, and being regulated on all sides by His commands; who, at the prime of youth, had lived as a stranger and sojourner, and choosing to be afflicted on all sides in companionship with the apostolic infirmities, being just as he was in the image and likeness, while maintaining purity inviolate in the common life, tore himself away from the unlawful counsel of the conspirators, and having departed from the monastery with his own blood-brother, he dwelt in that hospice of the same, which is situated at Praenetum. ^B And when the fame of this thing was spread abroad, and with the rumor growing among all the people, it obtained perfect belief, the Caesar, having long known the loftiness of the man's virtue, and knowing how he was sung in the mouths of all, and being thunderstruck from then on as to how he might increase the conviction of his intemperance, and having used the power of his authority for the discovery, and having learned where he was lodging, immediately, being a morose man, with the persuasiveness of his own words ^C [[D]]

FRANC. COMBEFIS'S NOTES

(50) A market town of Bithynia, in the region of Nicomedia. That those which are indicated as the monasteries of the Studites are the same as those mentioned in the Acts of the synod as *metata* (lodgings); and I would think them to be little different from Carthusian villas, or, if you prefer, from the ancient Benedictine priories, in which a few brothers lived outside the common monastery, and spent their time there in quiet, and attended there to the business of the other brothers and of the common monastery.

^A His detestable [σικχὸς] pursuer, dreaming his own dreams, taking along the emperor Michael in the baths of the Pythians, they quickly set sail, and coming upon the holy man at Praeneste, they held out words of flattery like bows (for their tyranny was grievous, and able easily to turn aside souls of manly virtue), thinking they could thereby persuade the holy man. Then the great man, addressing them in a somewhat more common manner, says: "It was proper, indeed, for you, having sinned against God and His divine laws, to grasp at His discipline, and not to draw down rage upon yourselves in anger; for judgement is severe upon those who are in authority. Since, however, you refuse to allow the physicians of repentance to heal the corruption of your wounds, thus says the Holy Spirit: 'It will turn out in the end to your misfortune.'" ^B Being provoked by these words, they departed empty-handed, reserving their hopes for a more convenient time. For they sent someone back to the holy man, saying that he must not take up lodging in any of the hostels of his monastery. And as if by way of retaliation, they immediately appointed in his place as hegumen a man named Achillas, who was indeed honorable in his conduct in every respect. But they themselves, as the saying goes, moved every stone to capture the holy man.

The servant of Christ, Nicholas, being driven out from his own people, and forbidden to approach them, kept changing from place to place, pressed by necessity and old age; ^C seeing him thus worn out, a man—who was adorned with a name equal to that of the prophet Samuel, and who, desiring the calling, sought to share in the act itself, and who lavished his wealth as a ransom for his soul upon those in need—purchased a remote and quiet place within the city near the parts of Liba, and offered it to the holy man with great sincerity, providing a convenient resting place for one who loved quiet. The holy man, by the grace of God, made it a glorious monastery, having laid in it an excellent foundation from the beginning. ^D [alt-version omitted]

For when he had later summoned one of his disciples, Evarestus by name, not only did that man show himself to be "Evarestus" [well-pleasing] in the contests of the ascetic ^A wrestling-ground, but he also made the very place well-pleasing through those who lived there in a way well-pleasing to the divine; and to this day, by his well-pleasing intercessions, it abounds in good achievements, and is revered by almost all the world; having been called from of old by the name Cocorobii. Assuredly, while the man was dwelling in quiet in this holy place, the Bishop Photius, striving in every way to draw him to himself along with the rulers, and attempting to reach him—for he coveted his glory more than that of others—the wonderful man perceived this, and wishing to escape their snares, set out as a fugitive ^B toward Proconnesus, and from there he departed for Mitylene. Having spent sufficient time there, he was brought to the Cherronesus, intending to live at Xamelius with his own brother.

The aforementioned Achillas, having governed the flock in the monastery of the holy man for five years, was created Archbishop of Nacolia in the parts of the East. Theodosius, having succeeded him in the office, held the monastery for a year; he was succeeded by Eugenius, after he had passed away. But after he too had held the office for four months, Theodore, who originated from the village of Santabares—and for this reason was nicknamed Santabarinus by some—succeeded ^C him. After he had represented the monastery for a whole year, Sabas, who was from Callistratus, was ordained and succeeded him; he was a disciple of the one who then held the office of the episcopacy.

When the great Father Nicholas had spent seven years in the aforementioned place, worn out by both the necessities of nature and by old age itself, he was taken prisoner and...

NOTES OF FRANC. COMBEFIS

(35) Ptolemy writes Proconnesus, and I think our author intended to write that. It is an island of the Propontis before Cyzicus. Mitylene is a city of Lesbos, from which the whole island was so named. Finally, regarding the Cherronesus or peninsula which he mentions, to which the man of God was at last brought, I think it was near the promontory of Acra, where Theodore died. Many places are called by this name. He could have been brought there by Photius and the Emperor, so that they might ^D watch more diligently over the city, and prevent him from plotting anything on behalf of Ignatius; or perhaps they feared that he, a man of such great authority, would go to Rome and carry complaints there concerning Ignatius and those who were in communion with him. Thus they tried to recall Theoctistus, as if he were guilty of high treason, while he was acting for Ignatius at Rome, as is written in the letters to Nicholas.

(34) He was, without doubt, a bishop while the tyranny at that time was being exercised; hence, it does not please me that the author mentions him shortly above as having been created superior of Studius after Nicholas was ejected, a man who was in every way approved in his character. If he had been so approved, he would not have been so easily advanced with repeated honors by a man who was a usurper. Or perhaps he wished to augment a man who was otherwise of great esteem, and second only to Nicholas, so that he might seek a safeguard for his own faction. What he did regarding both positions, for or against Ignatius, and how he stood toward Father Nicholas and the Studite brothers, is unknown. I imagine that all those mentioned here, except for the last, Sabas, a disciple of Photius, were devoted to the Father, and if they were infected with any stain of communion with Photius, they committed it out of human fear rather than out of hatred for Ignatius or Nicholas. Perhaps they entered upon the superiorship as though they were vicars, so that the brotherhood of the brothers might not suffer anything more severe during Nicholas’s absence, or perhaps even with Nicholas consenting; and the author might seem to hint at this in the case of Theodore Santabarinus, when he mentions that he had held the office for a whole year, and mentions Sabas, a disciple of Photius, as his successor: as if the others had been disciples of Nicholas, but Sabas was of Photius. Nacolia is a city of Great Phrygia according to Ptolemy and Strabo. In the Seventh Synod, Photius is recorded as being the bishop of Natolia; and it could appear that "Nacolia" should be written, since hardly any city can be assigned to Natolia. However, because it is constant from Anastasius that only the ancient bishops, and those ordained under other patriarchs, were admitted to subscribe to the synod, and Achillas could not subscribe, nor could anyone whom Photius might have substituted for him, in the event he was dead—let Natolia, then, be a particular city, perhaps in Asia Minor, which the Turks and moderns call Natolia: just as it is an eastern theme, and because it is more eastern than Constantinople.

^A He is brought back from there by the Caesar to his own monastery and given over to the aforementioned Sabas; he is kept in imprisonment for two years, in the greatest neglect of bodily care and under very diligent guard. For nonetheless, the ways of sinners are dark, and they do not know how they stumble; so that the end prophesied by the Saint regarding the two Caesars might first be realized, the Emperor Michael and the Caesar set out together with joined forces to wage war against the Ishmaelites in Crete. But while on the road, stirred up by rage against each other, the Caesar is assailed by treachery, miserably hacked to pieces by the sword, and slaughtered. But he [Michael] who returned, not long after he himself also drank the cup of wrath in the same way, finding one and the same end, just as the just man had foretold.

llbracketB But immediately Caesar Basil assumes control of the scepters of the Roman Empire, and having ordered a holy synod to be held, and having restored the venerable Ignatius to his proper archiepiscopal throne, he sought our common Father and the light of the Church, Nicholas, and entreated him also to take charge of his own monastery, adding as a companion in his entreaty a bishop. But he declined such a task, pleading both the weakness of old age and the labors and hardships he had endured at the hands of those who had held authority there. "You have me, O Emperor," he said, "with great readiness, to serve your will in all things as you may command; but I ask of you one thing: do not hinder my freedom and release; let this accrue to your holiness as a great profit, that I may be known and visited by you." ^C The Emperor, graciously receiving the blessed man and persuading him to undertake his former office once more, dismissed him from the palace with great joy of soul; although he still summoned him to himself quite frequently, being fond of his simplicity.

llbracketD For here I deemed it worthwhile to append to the account, in a brief narrative, the fruits that followed the labors of the blessed man, and to suggest a few of his miracles to the readers, so that the usefulness of the narrative might be complete. For although signs are for the unbelievers, as it is written, nevertheless, the Lord distributes these gifts of the Spirit in the believers for the greater glory of His servants and for the benefit of nature. Let us therefore relate with joy the miracles of the Spirit. For Eudocia, the wife of the Christ-loving Emperor, fell into a severe illness during these very days, and was deserted by all medical aid, the sickness inclining toward death. But while the Emperor was sorrowing over this matter, and complaining bitterly and becoming distressed in his soul, a vision in the interim brought him a joyful spirit. For he thought...

that as she slept briefly, she saw an old man, a monk in appearance, whom much glory adorned, saying to her in these words: "Take heart," he said, "for you shall not die at this present time; but you will soon experience the benefits of the desired health." ^A Then, awakened from her sleep, she immediately communicated the matter to her husband, and by imperial decree, she commanded that all the men in the city who excelled in the praise of holiness should come up to her, as if for a visitation. Wherefore also our Father, coming into the palace with a choir of Fathers, his face glorified like that of Moses (Exod. xxxiv, 29), was clearly known to the Empress as being the very same one who had pledged those words to her in the vision. Therefore, with a great voice, poured out in thanksgiving, she openly proclaimed the glorious great works of God performed through him toward her. The Emperor, and the whole throng standing by, admiring the man, honored him with appropriate honors. Symbolically, I think, the servant of Christ performed a miracle similar to that which his patron in name, Nicholas, had once performed, when he appeared to the Emperor in a vision and delivered men from an unjust death. Indeed, connecting miracles to miracles, let us learn the virtue of the Father.

For Helena, formerly the wife of the patrician Manuel, having approached the gates of hell by the force of disease just as the Empress had, and while the customary rites for the dying were already being prepared for her, the great man approached, and touching the head of the sick woman with his hand and marking her body by tracing the sign of the cross in the air above her, he revived her from the retreat of death. ^B For having immediately recovered her health, she was freed from the dire pain by which she was held.

It is also recounted that this same thing happened to the aforementioned husband of hers. For when he was lying on a low bed, and had already received from the physicians the final sentence of death, he asked for the holy man to be present, crying out and insisting that he adorn him with the angelic habit of the monks. To whom the Saint said: "Not at all; for it would not be expedient for you, my son, who are soon to leave behind the symbols of this infirmity and, by the gift of God, are to administer the prefectures of the magistracies. But when this shall have come to pass, then, having set aside your hair, I shall take you up to that blessed lot, filled with good works." The prediction had an end, and the events followed the prophecy. For having left behind his sickness with his bed, and having discharged those various offices of state, when at last he had been ill for a short time, according to the sentence of the just man, he laid aside his hair and departed to the Lord.

Theophilus, moreover, who was called a Lydiates just as the Melisseni were—for the man was their son-in-law, and he bore the name imposed upon them by family origin quite deservedly, albeit loosely; for he was also adorned with the dignity of protospatharios—his children, from the moment they were born, would immediately exchange life for death, and both parents were deprived of the most pleasant joy of their offspring. ^{C D}

^A For the stammering of infants is truly charming, especially when it proceeds from a guileless tongue. Forming, therefore, a good resolve with his spouse, they approached this great luminary and fell at his feet, and with many tears they set forth the grief they felt from the bereavement of their offspring. And as if shielding themselves with some buckler against that sudden violence of death regarding their infants, they besought this very great man to deign to perform for them the office of godfather at the regeneration of divine baptism. He did not, however, consent to their requests; nevertheless, holding the head of the surviving infant with his left hand, and raising his right hand above it, and having prayed sufficiently: "Depart," he said, "to your home; for thus says the Holy Spirit: 'It shall live, this little daughter,'" (for it happened to be a girl), "'and with your own eyes you shall see the sons of her sons, and thus you too shall depart from this life with joy.'" ^B And here, too, the outcome of events followed the words of the Father, and those who were childless became parents of many children through the child's ending of childlessness.

But why should I relate matters in detail? It has been proven, surely, by the prophetic character that this great man was completely adorned with the perspective of miracles, although the depths of oblivion have swallowed up most of them through the long passage of time. But since my discourse, through its own feebleness, has indicated his exploits only obscurely, come now, by comparing his deeds with the deeds of the ancients, let us also make clear from that point the excellence of the man. For the gifts of the Spirit are not partial, even if their operation is different. ^C For we alone divide them among ourselves, as we ourselves, in part and partially, attribute the indivisible things to others, revealing our affection in such ways. Let us consider it thus.

You marvel at Abel's upright heart and his new first-fruits of gifts, since they even merited praise from God; and the hope of Enos, and the translation of Enoch; but if you will, marvel also at the transformation of his perception of mind toward God from his very infancy, and the first-fruits of all his ages; a rational sacrifice, I say, from a contrite spirit, an offering more precious than gifts, and the hope that arises thence, and the daily translation of the mind toward things that exceed sense; inasmuch as there, the offering is concluded from surrounding and external substance, whereas here, it is concluded from his very own self. ^D But if you were to set against our Father the formation of the first-created man in the hand of God, his stay in paradise, and the first law given, you will find an encomium of virtue that is greater, or at least not less, taking up from there the complete abrogation of the commandment, and being about to receive the delight of paradise, as it were, with the just; since, according to the opinion of the great Paul, it is impossible for anyone to be perfected.

^A You praise Noah for his flight in righteousness from the flood, and for his containment of the irrational animals within the wooden ark; the hospitality of Abraham, and the new sacrifice of his only-begotten son, as he offered the child of promise as a victim to God; praise also, in our subject, his flight from the heretical flood, and how he saved many kinds of rational creatures, the purification of his mind, and the hospitable table prepared for him—for Christ the God Himself—by virtue of his priesthood; since he made his whole self a holy table and a spiritual holocaust. Truly wonderful is the promise concerning Isaac, even before his birth; but this man was himself a promise fulfilled immediately, and even after his birth.

^B Wonderful also is the ladder of Jacob, as a prefiguration of a paradoxical mystery; and the man’s skill regarding his flocks; and the twelve-fold prosperity of his children from his loins; but wonderful also for this man was the ladder of the virtues which he practiced, and his pastoral experience of rational beings, and the prolific spiritual birth of children from his loins. Job seated upon the dunghill, and his perseverance in the face of terrible things, is honored in the mouths of all; but our subject, enduring the bravery that comes from trials and the scars of his wounds, and carrying about his long confinement from place to place as one would a dunghill, practiced perseverance just as he did.

^C Great Moses was, as it were, a god to Pharaoh, a guide for the people, and a mild legislator, as no one else has been. But our subject was, in the same way, a god by adoption and a most mild legislator, admonishing and exhorting all to abstain from evil deeds, and working wonders with the rod of dispassion by various miracles. He imitated the invincibility of David in wars, bravely routing the phalanxes of the heretics. Need I speak of Phinehas’s zeal, and Elijah on Carmel, and Elisha’s power of the Spirit granted in the double portion of the mantle? In all of these, our own great man, by the excellence of his virtue, imitated them as far as is possible in both respects.

^D

FRANCIS COMBEFIS'S NOTES

(37) A promise of a plentiful offspring was made to the girl, whom her parents feared would be prematurely extinguished, just like the rest of their offspring: which was foretold shortly before by the prophecy of the holy man.

^A If, however, you should seek to discover a grain-scarcity in Egypt like that of Joseph, proceed now, and you shall behold a reality greater than those things you have investigated. For since it was necessary for him, according to the great Apostle, having wrestled well the contest of the athletic arena, to pay the common debt of nature (for he was lying, held by illness upon his pallet, with his children already standing in order around him and lamenting the obsequies of the passion), the blessed man is said to have asked whether they lacked any of their necessities, thereby, I suppose, pledging their despondent souls to himself. They, however, being troubled by the Father’s strange inquiry, explained the deficiency of the necessary grain which had recently befallen them.

^B Then the great man, heaving a deep sigh from his chest, and becoming as if moved by the Divine, said: "As for me, I depart and migrate to my fathers. For I know that this is what is laid up for me at the present time; but for you, He who once rained down manna for Israel in the desert, and provided water in abundance from the rock, shall Himself, three days after my departure from you, provide you with a large supply of grain." And... having instructed the brothers to signal with the beating of wood, as soon as he saw the sacred company of monks gathered together in one place, he selected, with their counsel, the one who was to succeed in the prefecture of the monastery. This was the admirable Clement, who was aptly named like a fruitful shoot, ^C bearing always fresh clusters of virtues, and who at that time was performing the office of steward.

He himself, having been worn down a little by the disease, and being entirely an outcast and, even before his departure, by the changing of his mind, having removed himself from the things of this world, stretching out his feet and placing his hands in the shape of a cross, with great confidence commended his soul to the holy angels who were leading it away, in the seventy-fifth year of his life, and in the six thousand three hundred and seventy-sixth year from the creation of the world, on the fourth day of the month of Peritius, of the first indiction, which is February.

And his much-stricken and much-struggled body was interred, along with the blessed Naucratio, at the right side, in the most glorious and holy shrine of the martyrs of the Forerunner’s sanctuary; ^D where indeed the most renowned and most venerable precious casket of our holy Father Theodore is also established. But what of what followed? Was it that, having departed, he had forgotten what he prophesied, or did he cause the fulfillment to come about otherwise than was proper, or with a longer interval of time than the promise possessed? Not at all. For three days after his glorious migration, he sent one of the largest ships of the Christ-loving Emperor Basil, full of grain, and filled the granaries of the monastery: so that, struck with great amazement, the blessed Clement [spoke] these words...

"Behold, Fathers," he said, "our common Father, after three days, as he had promised, has fulfilled the debt of his affection toward us, storing up for us this miracle as a common token of his boldness before God."

You have the solution to what was sought, which easily surpasses the provision of grain by Joseph in Egypt, even if here the miracle is yet more miraculous. But I shall turn my discourse to another wonder. For when the illustrious Clement had governed the monastery for a sufficient time, and had departed to the Lord on the seventeenth day of the month of July, and Hilarion—who was altogether befitting his name in the cheerfulness of his character—had just taken up the rule, a disciple of our holy Father Nicholas named Antonius, called Maurus ("the Black") by some on account of an accidental darkening, was for many years pressed by a disease of hemorrhaging. Because of the force of the illness, all hope of medical recovery had failed him. At last, the aforementioned Father Hilarion permitted him to lie down in the cell in which the servant of Christ, Nicholas, had formerly been enclosed, that he might endure the dissolution of his body. While he was dwelling there with increased joy, the holy man appeared to him in a dream, saying to him in these ^B words: "Humble Antonius, what is this illness that troubles you?" And as I had explained the illness and disclosed that its force was greater than any remedies, "Do not fear anymore," said the great one; "for from now on, you shall be whole, and you shall not be troubled by this illness." And returning to myself, not now in a dream, but before my very eyes, I beheld his back as he exited the cell. Wherefore, the flow of blood was immediately stanched, and a great fragrance of perfume spread all around the cell, filling my humble heart with immense joy. ^C From that time forty years had passed, and he, through the grace of God, lived suffering no trouble from that illness.

And let these things be said thus far; for many things must be passed over in silence in order to keep to the rule of brevity; since, moreover, the discourse is too weak to be able to recount the power of the miracles, in this respect providing for the utility of the ear that is harder to believe. We, therefore, O blessed one, stretching out our sinful and broken reed—out of the desire which our humble mind has for you—toward those things which through the long passage of time had remained ^D buried in the depths of silence, as if from the sea of those great deeds performed by you, [a small...]

emorial ^A or a vile pittance, we offer this discourse to your renowned and holy memory, and dedicate it. Do you, however, look down upon us propitiously from the heavens, and let that war of the flesh which is ever our constant companion be lightened day by day. Prosperously direct the frailty of our miserable life, which is met by so many unexpected misfortunes, and guide and steer the ship of my soul far from the savage storm of passions, obtaining peace for the assembly of the Church from God. For You see what a great and immutable day-shrouding wrath it displays; destroy the bold onslaught and insolent pride of the indomitable nations. For look upon what is being perpetrated now. Churches are being burned, and the land ^B of the Christians is wet with blood. Persuade them by your intercessions, either to return through a right faith to the ancient nobility of their glory, or be utterly crushed, like the nations who desire war. So, I beseech you, grant that we may glory in good hope toward God, with our conduct rightly ordered, submitting glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the one indivisible substance and divinity, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

JOSEPH THE HYMNOGRAPHER

NOTITIA

Josephus the Hymnographer, so called from the multitude of hymns which he sang, received the use of light at Syracuse, born to Plotinus and Agatha, parents renowned for their virtue. From infancy, by his maturity of character, virtue, and piety, he gave a token of his future holiness. Devoted to the sacred letters, he progressed in a wondrous manner, and put forth no obscure splendors of heavenly wisdom and divine eloquence, which he made all the more illustrious by the growth of his virtues. But while he was still of flourishing age, when the Agarenes occupied Syracuse, in order to avoid the fury of the Barbarians, he withdrew to the Peloponnesus, where, having left his parents, so that he might be freer to attend to God, he sought Thessalonica, and there embraced the monastic institution of St. Basil in the monastery called Laton. He approached the regular discipline with such fervor of spirit that he briefly exhibited himself to all as an example of perfection; for he devoted himself to the study of humility, ^D obedience, solitude, and silence: adorned with austerity, contemplation, charity, and other virtues, he so shone that he was a source of admiration to everyone. From his assiduous reading of the sacred letters and the holy Fathers, he drew forth the fuels of virtue, and endeavored not only to imitate the first-ranking celestial beings, but even to extol them in hymns and other monuments of his wit. Hence he drew all toward love and veneration of himself; but he did so even more sweetly when he expounded the arcana of the sacred letters with great sweetness. Often, imbued with heavenly wisdom, he would preach, and he excited the minds of his hearers to embrace the virtues: for a stream of honeyed eloquence flowed from the mouth of that distinguished man, by which he sweetly enticed the hearts of all. Because of the exceptional holiness of his life, he was deemed worthy to be initiated into the priesthood, although the powers of humility resisted; but he yielded to prayers and obedience; and therefore, adorned with this dignity, he devoted himself more fervently to the study of the virtues. He embraced the harsher laws of penance, took care to prolong his prayer for a longer time, and strained with all the nerves of his soul to hasten to the summit of holiness. When, however, he had arrived at Thessalonica, St. Gregory the Decapolite, who flourished in the glory of holiness and miracles, admiring the holiness of Joseph, perfected in all respects, contracted the closest familiarity with him; to such a degree that he could not be distracted from him