ON SIMULATION
A 1. Whoever proposes to delineate the character of simulation—which is not merely unskillful, but also most base—immediately sets himself against its falsehood. For it is multiform, and therefore multiple; passing into many species, and divided according to them, it twists and moves its limbs articulately, so that he who is thus vexed struggles against two evils, as we do at the present time: falsehood and simulation. This is a practice which the ancients invented for a good purpose, providing it artificially and usefully for life, though in later times the demons, those ensnarers of virtue, transformed it through an evil machination into a procedure destructive to the soul. For there was a time when actors were renowned for their own merit, the masters of tragedy themselves adorning it with genius, and by recurring to ancient stories fit for honorable instruction, B they would, as it were, bring their characters back to life and set them before our eyes through men—if I may say so—through a simulacrum, personified with them in the persuasive shaping of rhetoric and the representation of personae. Within their passions and speeches, just as in mirrors, they arranged these things according to the beauty of virtue for those who were watching and listening. By such representation (which might also be called personification or even simulation), they brought forth lessons in the writing of books, by which our life is still, even now, fashioned.
C 2. From such an art, therefore, the people of that time were able to learn—and the people of today can also learn—the varied changes of fortune, the diversities of character, and the countless vicissitudes of life. The misfortunes of kings, which the dramatic art of actors describes, taught them—and still teach us—not to put trust in a conspicuous life, to stand with all circumspection, and to beware of a fall. Conversely, the elevations of those who had been cast down, which the actors also provided for viewing everywhere, made it known to us that he who walks upon the earth is not of a sound mind if he does not hope for a dwelling with God in heaven. From that source, we also learned with what evils envy afflicted the heroes, which would likely have passed down to posterity, and such knowledge makes those who know it better. Those ancient simulations did not leave even friendship without its mark; rather, they rightly distinguished it, for it is not able to stand safely in port for those sailing through life; indeed, if it is distorted, it delivers beloved friends to death for an hour.
A 3. But why should I go through in detail such benefits, when it is enough to indicate to those who know well that the form of such simulation historicaly set forth every virtue and vice to the ancients, for both observing and hearing, so that they might choose the one and reject the other? This good thing descended from there even to those who came after, so that we might not harvest the knowledge of the good only from the living, but also, by conversing with the dead through that simulation, might further acquire a life in accordance with virtue. And such, then, was the dramatic exhibition, being a rational imitation of persons and actions, and a gathering of the qualities in them for the instruction of those who encountered them. And the actor of that time was a teacher of all virtue, introducing into the theater even types of vices, not so that anyone might put on their form, but that he might turn away from it. To speak otherwise: as to his face, he was a liar, but in his teaching he was truthful. And the spectators were then able to make the lie profitable and praiseworthy, where that which was dense and sensible was not consistent with truth; but that which looked toward the enunciated sentiment was a certain figure of the soul.
4. One might also call that actor as it were a substantial word. For he was entirely fashioned by a personified body and consisted substantially in instructions, and in some way he seemed to be adhering to heroic souls, by whom being powerfully inspired he taught the listeners. Most rightly you might also call him a monitor, passing on the words of others well to those listening; or as if two-faced, using one face, though not in the way of the famous B Janus; or a certain double, even if otherwise than the Molionidae. One might imagine in him, by the name of metempsychosis, a monstrous transfusion. But he who is simple of mind would name such a one a deputy, subservient to heroic persons, as if he were expressing their words and actions by imitating them, not judging according to them, or, to say the same thing, discerning or deciding, and so as a judge determining their affairs, so that he acts and says what they themselves would have done and said.
5. For otherwise a judge would be called an inferior. But now, just as the sub-praetor, sub-duke, and sub-prefect C are to the duke, the praetor, and the one set in supreme command, so is the dramatic actor to that prime judge, who serves as a sort of original theme; he too collecting in a critical manner works and words, both heroic, yet not indubitably those very things that are according to accurate truth, but things that are verisimilar and perhaps thusly constituted, and submitted to their customs, and thus generally placed under their judgment; to persuade the auditors to believe that, if not the very things themselves, as one might say, at least such must have been the heroic prototypes, in which the theatrical discipline shines, and to such an extent that the orator of this sort would dare to say that heroic D souls, revived, are speaking and acting, through those actors, those things which...
A are, so to speak, a charm to the spectators. For while among others the poetic Muse herself is the songstress, in the case of the leader in choral lyrics, they are the Celedones—a monster unto themselves, distinct from the wonder of the Sirens. But that exceedingly bold rhetor would define the skillful old theatrical art as a necromantic evocation of souls, one that makes life better; and he would call the one who pursues it a prophet of heroic souls for the utility of life, or a living and speaking book of history, or a servant of heroes, through whom the mind of those who are even dead is preserved upon the earth.
§ 6. And such, then, was the good and ancient art of acting, and he who is the craftsman thereof. But since it could not be that this good thing should not be peddled for profit, and first of all be rendered useless by the admixture of worthlessness, and then be completely obscured, so that instead of a useful art it fell into vain—or even wicked—craft, this is what the multiform life accomplishes; and according to some wile of envy, having laid an ambush for the beneficial theatre, it devises the Satyr plays, that mixture of actions and B speeches placed in heroic characters, the blend of which is intermingled with laughter and seriousness. And those who have encountered ancient works, of which a few are still in circulation, know these.
§ 7. After the serious-jocular Satyr plays, the comic style of acting C won favor, no longer clinging to heroic characters, unless perhaps in some minor capacity; for the most part it wallowed in the dregs and was thus trampled underfoot, and would have fallen into neglect, had not the poets—speaking elegantly—captured the ears of the spectators and, having expanded in this way, been preserved for reading by those who live rationally; for these, receiving the marrow, cast away the bones, and everything else that is not nutritious they reject with disdain.
§ 8. And thus these three ancient styles of acting, different in their handling but otherwise illustrious and influential, flourished for a long time, and all of them bore fruit; the ancient one was wonderful, and the second and third were not entirely to be rejected, but they perished. A fourth appeared after them, neither rational nor at all useful to the soul, and for this reason it incites those who love the truth to join in its denunciation, just as we hinted when we first unbarred the threshold of our discourse. D As to what kind of life it led among men from the beginning, only a serious author could say; but it altogether leads a life such as God does not love.
§ 9. Further, one must place in the category of acting that deceptive imitation—the whispering sort—concerning that ancient-evil serpent. Now it seems to be flourishing, or rather budding, and bursting forth and departing into rotten fruit. For indeed, that wicked beast is destroying me myself, the present writer of this evil. For having been handed over to a thousand iniquities, if not all of them, I have been defamed by it, in a way that I suspect no one else of my contemporaries has been. For it is necessary at some time to be vexed in spirit regarding the matters in which I am engaged; but I hide myself, as
A I know. It behooves one to distance some from me, yet I busy myself with such people more actively; it behooves one to justify oneself, yet I keep silent to my own condemnation. To say the whole thing in the briefest manner, I often falsely claim to be an upright man. For may it not happen to me at all—may it not, O God Savior, who has placed your hand upon me. One thing, at least, I do not feign: holiness, from which I am distant not only B "as far as heaven is from earth," but, if it is permitted so to speak, as far as the superterrestrial regions are from the imagined antipodes. Behold, I reveal myself to be entirely wicked. For I do not falsely paint myself as guileless, according to the majority of those around us, who even register hollow men as grandfathers and long-lived and sweet; nor do I offer myself to all equally in imprudent friendship, like a flatterer. But, always correctly cherishing love according to God, I nevertheless, when the time calls, bark against malice—that evil man would say this, who puts praiseworthy reproach into the category of barking; and I would neither enter into a contract nor be joined to one embracing me, even if he were to burst, reproaching me for nursing a grudge. When it is necessary to weep, I would not use a sardonic laugh. There is also for me an occasion for rational joy, when I do not, with furrowed brows and lips pressed tight, stifle my joy, composing it within through hypocrisy. I would not feign praise for one whom I do not love, pretending a grace of the tongue more flattering, since I know that even flattery is but a sucker from a base stock, that of hypocrisy. I will not even feign self-control. I shall consider it better to be seen caught by drunkenness than to be falsely written down as a faster. Having my hand full of the harvest that comes from God, I will not hide the fruit.
10. To declare the whole matter: I hold simulation in hatred, C as I suspect no one else of men does. I say this, not exalting myself after the manner of Astydamas, as the saying goes, but for the sake of unselfish precision. For I utterly hate this evil, and as far as I have power, I turn away from it. But if by chance I am caught in contradictory language in these matters—on one hand accusing myself of a hypocritical character, as I have already confessed, and on the other hand denying it—behold, I become an advocate for myself and say in truth that, while pursuing the sun of sincerity, I escape the darkness of hypocrisy; but whatever I confessed to doing hypocritically, these are for me methods of economy, such as the correct canon prescribes, ordaining one to dispense critical words, and to open the lips in due season, and to avoid the unseasonable use of bold speech, and altogether to accommodate oneself to the circumstances of affairs as needed. If anyone assigns this to hypocritical conduct, he could not fail in the same way to subject all honesty and moderation and discipline, by which men are led to the flight from vices, to hypocrisy. For it is manifest that human nature, which is slippery and prone to wander, D can easily be cast down into ruin; but He who is the Lord of rectitude, looking down from above
A upon it, accomplishes these two good things: guarding it from falling by his support, and raising it up when it has fallen. And certainly, he who is otherwise prone to malice, but is raised up by spiritual moderation, would not be called a hypocrite.
11. Indeed, we know a hypocrite to be one who, in a pretense of goodness and external appearance, seems useful and believed to be a divine ointment; but inwardly he is useless and foul-smelling, and while he fraudulently appears divine, he is secretly in league with demons. But if such is the hypocrite, how could he be like the one who struggles against malice, and who, though oppressed by war from it, yet firmly conquers it? He who, when flattered by it, rejects and spits upon it when it wishes to kiss him. But let these things be set down by me in this way—perhaps blameless at times, yet occasionally perhaps open to censure.
12. But as for the hypocrites, whom I have already experienced and am still experiencing, they undergo such a delineation. First of all, they feign friendship; they approach the one they happen upon, flattering and soothing him, just like fawning little dogs—whining, rolling at his feet, almost licking his footprints; barking kindly, as it were, before their beloved; doing everything, saying everything, by which they might entice a man to become accustomed to them as dear companions. They weep, not only when the cherished person breaks into grief-stricken tears, but also when he himself perhaps happens to be happy, and whenever a sudden eye ailment afflicts his sight with pain so that he sheds tears, and it hardens into bleariness. For they scheme to conform themselves in every way to the one being fawningly pursued, taking pains to model themselves B skillfully according to him; and in this way they weep, while they rejoice, perhaps with refinement, when the flattered person is joyful; but at other times, if perhaps a hoarseness or a slight cough happens to come upon him, since they have seen him laughing and almost appearing stifled, they compose themselves to imitate his laughter. And if a flea bites him, to make a sign of it, or if a fly lands, the fawners are ready to take up arms against the biters. But if he should happen to suffer some light bruise or obscure offense, they offer libations to Asclepius and Panacea, and also call upon Iaso for a cure. But when he is stirred to a sneeze, papa! what greetings and what wishes! In their distress, they are troubled if they see a thread or a bit of dust resting on their friend’s garment. They stand attentively by the one who is sitting, with their hands folded before their chest, as if in the presence of a king, wishing also, I believe, to have them tied behind their backs after the Persian manner, so that they might signal their servile nature C more clearly. When he rises, they are restless, at a loss as to what they should do, whether at his command or otherwise. They follow him when he walks, as much as do persistent servants, vying with his stride. They call blessed those who gave birth to the man. If he says anything at all, they act as though he almost surpasses Demosthenes, and many even transfigure him into Hermes himself. If he is shooting, he is compared to the famous Abaris; if he is running, he is likened to the Boreads; it is too little, if to Perseus, who, as someone said, was winged-footed. If he is singing, [he is compared] to Orpheus—
the musician is proclaimed. They prefer the man thus celebrated to Nireus, and they say he is the happiest of all mortals, because he has obtained such a man for his ornament. One thing they leave unattempted for the elevation of their friend: to make the man a god and to raise him onto a holy pillar. However, they frequently call the man divine, and most divine, and godlike, and similar to God, and equal to God, and an emulator of God, and whatever other venerable title of this kind exists. A In the morning, they stand by him as he washes; they diligently chase flies away from him while he sleeps; when he spits, they do not allow the saliva to be trodden upon, not considering it repulsive, but pleasant to the sight. When he climbs onto a beast of burden, they lift him up, and clinging to him like flies to delicacies, they are unwilling to be persuaded to leave. They also recount slanders B that were supposedly brought against their friend, against which they themselves fought and which they refuted, though these [slanders] were not true, but fabricated by the scoundrels. In this way, they ironically inflict contumely upon the man being flattered, and they cunningly contrive a community of life and a distribution of substance, bringing him jars of wine, and other fruits of autumn, and dishes full of cakes. And they urge him while eating and drinking to intemperance, pretending it is for the sustenance of life, but I think, rather, in order to hold his gluttony and drunkenness up to ridicule; but if they appear aggrieved that he is not satisfied, they would rejoice even more, because they themselves would be handsomely filled. And here is something yet novel: they initiate him into mysteries, and they reveal their own secrets, which they have either committed or imagined, and these the worst, as if they have dared to speak to a friend and entrust him with all that is stored in their soul, provoking the C wretched man on that account to a likeness, so that he too may disclose some of his own secrets. And they do these things, and others more and worse than these, until they have deceived the tempted man with their sorcery, and persuaded him to trust them and cleave to them as if they were upright friends. But when they have kept this wretched little sparrow caught within their nets, then, casting off the cloud of simulation, they appear, in their true friendship and thus most dazzling in wickedness.
13. And how they handle the man, I know, brothers, and you know, and before you the writers know, and indeed the whole world; wherefore it would be superfluous to recount things that are otherwise not even worthy of being heard. D A spider might thus act wickedly toward a gnat that it held caught in its webs, offending the little creature. But this is said by way of understatement. A lion would thus rush upon a sheep, and having seized it with its teeth, would tear the animal apart, just as they tear apart their wretched friend, rejoicing, or rather singing cheerful songs, so that even among them, like puppies, some sport might be seen. For they are not ashamed, but love ostentation, as if through a chorus and a canticle fulfilling these things, these bold and wretched men; the one thing, that they act audaciously against friendship; the other, that they do nothing praiseworthy.
14. Therefore, they no longer fawn upon the friendly,
A nor do they appear to be partakers in weeping or joy, nor do they pretend to defend or serve, and they refrain from honoring, praising, and proclaiming him who was but yesterday their friend. Moreover, they are so far from carrying him on their hands—like a sound of the equino—that they rather cast him into pitfalls and overwhelm him. And if they had supplied anything to a friend as a token of friendship, or if they had held in trust from elsewhere the secrets of a friend, those who formerly divulged such matters would, in order to wipe them away in turn, not discharge their fountain-water more easily than those who belch out the secrets committed to them. But why and for what reason is all this? Because some very base trifle, not worth a single obol, has annoyed the simulator, who—as he himself would say—wishes to have a lordly command in all things over the one who fawns upon him, and to obtain from him none of the things he desires: something that can in no way be obtained from anyone in life, where every man is not entirely master of his own will, but, after having firmly decided on something, by changing today into tomorrow, he has disavowed his own purpose. But why do I say "tomorrow"? It would have been necessary to say "at once"; and this is, among other things, not entirely alien to the truth, because we possess our senses according to our fortune.
15. And thus, those of the hypocritical sect pervert matters pertaining to friendship, when they have set out to handle them according to their own intent. And it would have been enough here to leave those convicted of such depravity to cast themselves to the dogs. B For he who has acted wickedly against such a great good, against what other thing will he fear to carry himself audaciously? However, let us also examine their depravity in other matters, where the censure is marked for those who encounter it; for no one is ignorant of such depravity where the censure is noted. But let us also collect something towards their condemnation, and against that most great [evidenced] suffrage, let us add one black pebble at least—just that one from their accusation—much as if, when a wicked man were wearing a stone tunic, which his own malice had woven, a passerby from the road should also C cast a stone upon the marked tomb, according to custom, for atonement.
16. Consider, therefore, the simulator, what manner of man he is also in civil society, when he happens to attain some prominent rank. As soon as the marketplace or the senate-house catches sight of him, he immediately puts on the mask of dignity, or rather of piety, attentiveness, and exactness; he devises good counsel and speaks words that will be of great utility. And in his discourse, he chooses his thoughts, which, when uttered, resound as if they were the voice of God. D In his actions, however, he so removes reproach far from himself that he even becomes an object of envy to the envious. Having been made an arbiter, he will never look at the face [of the parties], nor will he dare to pride himself on a gift received in secret. Mingled with affairs from elsewhere, he preserves a praiseworthy reconciliation through discourse carried out according to virtue. Judging, he directs his sentence according to the rectitude that is pleasing to God. He restores everything taken away, he openly declares what is just, he restricts
A firmly, he dismisses with clemency. You might call him an image of virtue. For besides other things, our man pretends first to humility and to truth: to humility, in that he is the servant of all; to truth, because he would not say something is good if it were not so. He works most especially at this beautiful pair, having stripped those who are in the highest rank, after he has demonstrated and cultivated it in them. Raised as if on two golden wings, namely of truth and humility, he is beloved by both the senate and the people. From then on, whatever civil business comes into his hands—and especially private affairs—he attends to it. For he is accustomed, if not always, at least frequently, to have the care of private matters added to him who is concerned with the public interest. Innumerable people, therefore, approach him at any hour, intending to communicate about matters of every kind, such as marriages, trade, and finally agreements of all sorts. And he is for them that "good year" to which no subsequent, most fortunate year could be compared; he is accessible to all and is not caught in any wickedness. Thus, little by little, he ascends to glory, and raised by the wings of fame, he does not struggle upward with hands and feet, but rises easily through the air as if winged. But after he has drawn all men to himself by his wicked method, and they have come to him, and the phrase "that good man" has been spread about everywhere, then he will promptly call to mind that ancient Deioces, who had soothed his fellow citizens with justice and concern for communal affairs, and, having thus been assumed into the office of archon, thereafter B forcefully held fast to things that were not appropriate, and he himself is changed to similar ways. And how he manages either the city he was able to obtain the office of governing, or the village near which he dwells, or the small town in which he was raised, must indeed be drawn from histories and documents, but it must also be inferred from those things which happen, as it were, everywhere; for a thousand such things have been seen before, and are seen even to this day. For us it suffices to say that the man who has thus been raised up needs sharp eyes, in order to clearly perceive himself after his advancement, and that prayers are necessary, so that from that height C he may be able to look upon humble things.
§ 17. Moreover, we must move on from this high vantage point—back to the lower and humbler things—for the sake of a variegated texture of speech, and we must dwell upon these for a while in a summary way, so that we do not linger too long on unpleasant subject matter, since such discourses are burdensome, just like the foul things themselves. There are also found in such places, here and there, cunning craftsmen of malice. For evil does not wish to refrain even from the smallest things, but proceeds through all things without restraint. For the sophist of malice, while dissembling—or rather, usurping the words of God—brings forth from His words, for his demonic servants, that adulterated saying: "See D that you do not despise even one of these little ones,"
A whether human beings or some minor crafts. For this reason, those hypocrites who have insinuated themselves into the trades, initiating seemingly good acts as if they were lures, and having through these means hunted down some good or otherwise distinguished people, and appearing helpful, straightaway drag others along with them. For we humans are accustomed to rejoice in the imitation of good men, and many even in the simple imitation of our superiors. But since they drag many along, and no base suspicion of them appears anywhere, they themselves also change. And those who were previously truthful and simple, and did not at all burden their own kind, nor delay wages, but were diligent in their technical work, and were thus believed to be honest, they no longer prize a good name above riches B and become prone to every abomination and shameful gain. And even more so, if they happen to become master-builders and oversee public works, among other crimes they commit, they mutilate the wages of their subordinate laborers. These, indeed, bear it ill to be cheated of their wages, yet they endure such contractors—fearing to have them as harsh taskmasters of their labors—unless it be that they retain the profit for themselves. And in truth, those who are even more minor hypocrites in these matters—those, namely, who carry the stones and mix the mortar or lime—at the beginning indeed, when they appear to those who share the work as honest and sincere, they hold themselves to that appearance, but very quickly afterward they are changed into the opposite.
18. Thus also here such wickedness is found to be petty, so that, just as we say that scorpions C sleep under every stone, so we may also declare that simulation lies hidden under almost every man. If someone were to wish to defame it on purpose, he would say that it is the virtue of the devil, the feigned beauty of malice, an enterprise of shameful gain, but without gain in the eyes of God; veiled wickedness, a shadowed sketch of utility, a phantom of goodness, a pit of destruction D flowered over so as not to be seen, a laughing death, honeyed bitterness, darkness palpable to those who are not prudent, but to be avoided by the wise; a flesh-eating beast, wrapped in a sheep's fleece, Hades, before whom life shines; a light hovering over profound darkness; a fox adorning malicious intent with speech; an arrow soft indeed in its delivery, but bitter in its corruption; a sweet slaughter, a cheerful lethality, an army lethal without arms, a night that brings no rest, a mortal shadow, a serpent lurking and bloodthirsty; a dragon mortal to men in all other things and so hard, yet soft toward gold, like the fabled guardian of gold. For besides other depravity, the race of simulators is insane for gold and is extremely greedy; and one would not buy their goodwill with anything other than gold, and that, too, continuously poured forth; so that, if at any time it were to fail, the goodwill would also fail, just as with a lamp, when the material that provides the fire fails, the light that comes through it is at the same time taken away.
A 19. This evil also lies in wait even for the blessings of marriage: for a woman who counterfeits the modesty of the marriage bond is driven by lust into adultery.
20. This evil also discovered betrayals, both of others and of one's own fatherlands. For those who love genuinely—the friend, the companion, the kinsman, the citizen—keep safe their friends, their business associates, those of the same race, and their fellow countrymen. But those who have corrupted love trafficking-style—mostly for the sake of gain, but in some rare cases for the sake of glory—become adversaries to friendship, to every association, to their own kin, and to those of the same land.
21. Another effect of simulation is hidden thievery. For murderers, not daring to enter into a face-to-face combat, lie in wait in other ways; and under the pretext of not being evil, they suddenly cast off the mask of hypocrisy, draw their weapons from their sheaths, and thus accomplish what they desire. B
22. A cloud of hypocrisy, casting a shadow even over those who are plotting ambushes, sends great evils upon both armies and cities.
23. Deception of friendship also spurred the renowned Semiramis against the Persian king, who was not only innocent but also most affectionate. The perfidy of Sinon brought a great evil upon the city of the Trojans. But let no one here, while glorifying the affair of the wooden horse, call it a stratagem, and not a hypocritical concealment, to achieve that deed. Or, to speak more clearly, let him not assign wisdom as the cause of that masterpiece, and not hypocrisy. For he who truly intends to interpose an argument knows well that to every terrible work accomplished, whether according to wickedness or according to prudence—whose mother is recognized as cleverness—there follows also some craftiness, and likewise a stratagem. And with craft and deceit, no one would assert that there is not also usually at least some hypocrisy accompanying it. C And if the deceit is good, the accompaniment of hypocrisy is also good; and so too with a stratagem. But if both are evil, as I argue in the case of Sinon’s deed, then the hypocrisy involved in his case would be of such a kind, just as was the simulation in the famous instance of the magnanimous Megabyzus. If, however, someone wants to classify these under ambition and manly daring, so that the accompanying hypocrisy might also be virtuous, let it be held as such. But I myself could not bring myself to imitate those men, having worn myself out to the point of collapse, and having been cast aside from the most opportune things, for the sake of empty glory. D
24. But why should more hypocritical examples come to me, which require frequent accounts from the ancient writers who treat history? It should be said, concisely and not far from the truth, that the present world is full of gross simulation. Indeed, it is deceived even in this very fact, that it is called "world" among us, through men of this kind; so that, just as the name of the great God is blasphemed by those who do not follow the divine inspiration, so too is the name of the world blasphemed by those who are not "ordered"; such as are they who compose the race of hypocrites, who contrive disorder beyond every other tribe, counterfeiting that which is the order of nature. For being fabricated in an orderly manner toward others, as the...
Creator God declared, they transform themselves in another way; it is evident that this is in the opposite direction. They are ill-suited for investigating the truth, and therefore they are outside the world in a different way than are the spiritual anchorites: for these latter, by their departure, ascend to things beyond the world; but those who are outside the world through lying, join themselves to harpies, as if to cross the Ocean. A
25. Now that mention has been made of those men who are holy and pleasing to God, who are outside the world, who are elevated above the earth and all things earthly, who transcend the clouds, spirited in the ether, always clear in thought, burning like angels, lights from God and according to God, whose tongues, like those of the apostles, are fiery, as also is all the rest of their visage, for the consuming of malice, which they burn up like chaff; who, leaving the world and the things in the world, have reached God Himself—I perceive indeed in our midst a few such pillars shining with ascetic fire, but countless clouds that are like simulators, enclosing and surrounding things that are murky, so that no light can shine forth from them. Moreover, I see storms erupting from there, so that they might also extinguish the light of those others, B and render everything that pertains to our life in darkness.
26. O wretched beast, hypocrisy! Why on earth do you attack the lay flock of God and the sacred one, attempting to snatch it away from God Himself? Or rather, to be in doubt is a better way to inquire: one would not, I think, say it was not done on purpose. Why on earth do you empty your whole quiver, striking those who are consecrated to God? Of whom, those who remain in the way of life do not, by reason of that very life, suffer such snares or stings; but those who have renounced the world and have set out to transcend all lower things in flight—a part of which are sensory marriage C and things carnal according to it (for the remaining marriage, which is according to the spirit, is not forbidden to any Christian man, which those who love beauty embrace spiritually, consecrating themselves in a virginal manner to the pure spouse of souls)—these, therefore, who are saints of God in truth, kindle unappeasable enmity against the common foe, who clings especially to them, holding in honor that which is his equal and thus attacking his rival. And the reason is that such men, having stripped off the rags of this thicker life, as is commonly said, have chosen openly to shoot against the adversary more than any other man; and having fled the turbulence of life, D and having departed from this city, where towers can be encircled by the enemy, having stepped forward as if into a plain where one does not entirely fear an ambush, they are counted as soldiers of God, guardians of all other men, who themselves also ought not to slumber, but not like those who have already obtained a dignity above the rest. For they themselves are the strong ones of God, greatly elevated from the earth, and therefore more capable of resisting the spirits of wickedness; who also
to speak in the words of the Psalm A, fight from on high. But others are still heavily weighed down below, and are not so capable of fighting, even if they are otherwise kindled by a zeal according to God and by that inner fire—not into coals, nor into just any flame, but as into lightning flashes, which, being multiplied, trouble the enemies of God; not a few of these surpass those who are utterly dark, fulfilling and bringing to order things that were not ordered. Fearing these, I imagine, are those monks who have set themselves up like wooden statues according to their own virtue, and who cannot bear that, though they themselves have contended, others should carry off the prizes (and that with the most perfect right), or that, because they themselves cast the armor of the Spirit aside a little, those others have taken it up in their turn as an ornament and a bulwark. They slip into hypocrisy; and, girding themselves with it for the sake of concealment as if it were some light, holy armor, they deceive the simpler folk, because, while standing in arms against the enemy demons to put them to flight, they put virtue itself to flight and dislodge it entirely from its seat, as if they had returned to that ancient and primeval form, through which, living as if in Paradise, they had escaped unmolested B by the demon who lies in wait for mankind.
27. You might see them, therefore, trying to deceive anyone at all, being feigned from head to foot. For not only do they walk about with naked and unwashed feet, covered from top to bottom with filth, but they also craftily contrive further disfigurement about their feet, such as no one who has once determined upon the alteration of the divine formation would be surprised if they were to devise. They adopt a gesticulating gait, such as an old man bent over after the manner of ants might display, thus creating the impression that they are depleted of natural vigor through abstinence, and are almost touching death. Yet here their hands testify otherwise. For, swelling with nourishment beyond satiety, they speak against such a boast as that. But the things which appear on the face seem changed by a different crowd of lies. For the beard, either remaining unkempt, bristles on account of the filth of abstinence and the matted growth C resulting from it, or, being groomed for show, bears hanging from it the comprehension of virtue, with the downy flower of the upper lip covering it, like a hairy roof. If, however, for any reason they have fostered the areas above as a way of ornament, the ascetic also has for those parts an artificial dye, by which, changing himself in various ways, he is disfigured. But the eyes, that beautiful mirror of the soul, the lamp of the body, the sun shining in the human heaven, the portals of the sensible light within us, the ornament of the face, are also rendered useless by the hypocrite, being knitted together in untimely gloom, suppressing cheerfulness, and thus becoming clouded—not scattering the rays of vision so as to see everything everywhere and in the shortest time things above, below, and around, D more divinely, and thus vision
A is not deceived; but rather, casting them upon the earth alone, they demonstrate involuntarily that the one who looks in this way sees only earth. Yet it was necessary for one who has tasked himself to be a heaven-walker to look upward symbolically, and thus to lift his eyes unto the hills, from whence help is sent down to those who rightly look up.
28. Such a one does not even allow his mouth to perform according to its natural power, but corrupts it, for the most part remaining silent, according to what one might call, in Pythagorean fashion, an "exclusive silence." But when it pleases him to utter a sound, he chips like a bat, so as not to convey the meaning of his speech to anyone; and if he attempts to articulate what is appearing slightly, he then even murmurs, as if he feared that he might exhale his soul along with it. These are signs in such a "virtuous" man of the fact that his inner parts are afflicted by starvation and other bodily ills, as if from this he had neither tone nor breath. But what kind of mind could such speech express? For how could it be anything but narrow in one who is so difficult in his speaking and, for that very reason, narrow-minded? Nor can that which is so difficult to perceive be considered pleasant in any way. However, the listener—an experience I would not wish for myself—will know what great utility it provides. The impostor attempts in these things a dissimulation of his own boorishness. For those who behave in such a way are B altogether rustic, observing silence and brevity of speech strictly because they cannot be refuted by them. Certainly, wise monks – men learned in letters, filled with virtues, and initiates of virtuous discipline – refine their voice, speaking clearly and adorning their speech, pouring forth musical thoughts like rivers, the streams of which gladden the city of God. And they shine with their eyes, and are flushed in their countenances with a divine beauty, and by their whole natural stature, they verify the divine creation, and by their actions, they are fashioned into the image of God’s imitation. They are not, however, fashioned hypocritically like those among us who, cleverly managing what is incomprehensible, sketch out a practical virtue, even if they are not in the least able to carry it through, as it is not possible.
29. For virtue, when it is abounding and truly practical and practiced in every way, just as a lion might—in a manly fashion—strangle the irrational element in the soul, would suffocate the internal wickedness so that, if any C might happen to be lurking within, it could not be manifested, just as the most tenacious scent of enclosed aromatics would not be able to spread its foul odor to the multitude. But when the interior of someone is full of every kind of impurity caused by wickedness, and the exterior shows a feigned appearance of virtue, how could that which truly savors of virtue conquer there, when the man has not the least share in it? Truly, he who apes a beautiful action, and who is, as it were, painted with lead-white D and made beautiful by an added color, will not hide his foulness forever, but soon, having been recognized, he will be revealed and will show himself to be a fallacious and lying simulator. For either...
he is one who, having already successfully completed his hypocrisy and having succeeded in deceiving those who have attained holiness, is deemed to be among the saints, he then washes away this hypocrisy and, having become pure in this manner, reveals the demon within him; and, having convinced those who witnessed him that they had been ranked under him while he was playing the role of the stage-performer, he displays the holiness [that he pretended to have], which was actually a matter of his nature B and his base way of life. Or, fearing the hardship of the hypocrisy of goodness, finding it heavy and fatiguing—much like someone possessing a frail body who appears on the stage heavily encumbered by the armor of mail-clad soldiers (for that person cannot possibly move gracefully, being encased by the weight of many talents of armor)—he casts aside even that thin veneer of virtue as something heavy and insupportable, and, having fled from there, he quickly returns to manifest sinning.
30. And thus both types serve hypocrisy—the one who stands his ground and the one who is a fugitive—retaining a pure resemblance to him who was the progenitor of the hypocrite, that is, the most ancient one [the Devil]. For even the ordinary actor, if by chance he happened to be a man replicating heroic personages, would return after the performance to being the humble man he was before; but the monk who acts hypocritically, having mocked virtue in whatever way he could, remains precisely the same sinner he was before the performance. Let such men be assigned therefore to the comic theater; let those who are subordinates be ranked simply as stage-performers, and ones who are not refined, while those who are superior should be considered leaders of the theater. Let them laugh at imperfect simulations, suggesting to those who are experienced the thought of what they were like when they first appeared with their tonsure, and what they proved to be after a short time. For they pretended C to flee the whole world and, consequently, the things that accompany it, among which are parents and other relatives. They also established for themselves modesty, success, and total poverty, and thus they could share nothing at all. For what would they share, having pretended to have nothing; and since they were accustomed to seeing no one other than themselves? But after they had given themselves to this stage for a little while, and had displayed the drama, as if they themselves were the choregoi, pleasing themselves and the more shallow spectators, the majority retained until the end only one element of the dramatic action: the lamentable blackness they had presented in advance. They abstained from the rest, not because they remained in what they were portraying, nor even because they returned to what they were before, but because they were transformed into worse versions of themselves, having made the world so much their own that they seemed to belong to it more than to D the holy monastery.
31. Previously, any matter of livelihood or the shame of publicity kept them away from the forum. For they loathed being seen among the multitude; many did so because they were not worthy of being seen in worldly society, while others did so because of some shameful crime—some of whom a prison cell hid as evildoers—and thus, obtaining such concealment, they chose not to...
A be occupied with such things, nor had the one who was hidden any leisure for them. Yet when each of them, having acted a part, has returned to his former mode of life, he stretches it out in a proportion that is not fitting. For, having returned from his spiritual flight, he loves to be seen and shines in public; and, counting the solitary life for nothing, he lives according to a life that is conspicuous, desiring to increase his relatives and acquaintances. And indeed he does increase them, not by adjusting himself to a different proportion, but by increasing this one many times over.
32. I find it loathsome to bring forward the methods of this increase, of which the first before any other work is the acquisition of offspring—not those of the flesh, I say, but the spiritual ones, in which the great Abraham rejoices in one way, B while that elder, his namesake in an Abramic sense, rejoices in another. For the sake of these latter, he feigned a weariness of the world; and, having played the hypocrite with the high priest and mocked him indeed, and having been chosen as a sponsor for souls, he thus slipped securely into the material concerns of life and was broadened by the adoption of children—whom the ancient mother, hypocrisy, bore under that good elder. Then, he even rejects the one who gave him the means to beget children, as if he reckoned him as nothing before his eyes. Thus, having returned from his flight and restored himself to a worldly logic, he is precise, and he is careful not to remain free from arrogance. For where could there be any lack of arrogance among those who have rejected humility and its companion, obedience, but have chosen instead autonomy and the power to command?
33. Therefore, for these holy men after their return from flight to their worldly homelands, it is frequent not to say: “Bless me,” or “As you command,” or “Yes, venerable Father,” but quite the opposite. For, having exchanged obedience for authority, he does indeed bless, but often in a devilish manner to one’s face; yet he commands those who obey him as if he were a tyrant. He refuses when invited to something virtuous, making himself his own rule, sufficient to himself, assuming that he alone is the world’s light, and regarding himself as the only one who matters to the world—who, having departed a little, quickly returned to it, just as a child returns to its nurse. Otherwise, it is proper for the worldly ascetic to be separated—not as he did, turning back as if to God Himself, when this was interpreted as a withdrawal from the wicked master, the demon; C and in some way philosophizing in this manner to become a cynical person, who, having taken up a dog-like way of life, returned to his own vomit. And perhaps such a person, having been stained by the things of others after his return, both rediscovered his former baseness and acquired more besides.
34. For, beyond other things, not a few, after their tonsure, have additionally taken up crafts and trade, and return to that life, and are burdened from it, and are clever at loading themselves with still more because of their ability to profit from a craft. And how could such people be blameless, which is what... D
A those who have firmly decided upon true poverty and to be disengaged from business, and to be content with what comes their way, would need at all of the world and the immediate life? The desire for poverty empties the monastery.
35. But it is superfluous to elaborate on these matters, for we have already sufficiently examined them elsewhere according to the truth of writing. I, however, come to expose a certain idol of simulated virtue—or rather a phantom or specter (for I am hesitant to call any image of that execrable thing a likeness)—an B object hateful to God. These simulators of virtue lay hands upon their own flesh, and in some way these lost souls write in symbolic characters—worthy of amputation—consecrating these as the first fruits of their odious goddess, namely, their greed, which could be called their God, just as the belly is. Some, by slightly grazing the surface of their flesh with a small blade where it pleases them; others by scraping the tips of their fingernails, or even by corroding them with a file, shine before those who see them—whether privately before boys or publicly before the people—as if these wounds had been inflicted upon them by demons while they were praying by night. They feign these monstrosities so that they might strike awe into onlookers as a demonstration of holiness, and I believe they also draw C wine and oil to themselves for the purpose of external and internal medicinal application. These same people also affect a multitude of lice, so that the tiny creatures are seen creeping outside their tattered garments. Or perhaps they are collected from elsewhere, whether bought for a price or given for free. But to what end? So that, by means of the creatures of that herd, they may be looked upon with wonder and receive a plentiful supply of resources, and from this, a great profit may accrue to them according to the goal of these hypocrites. I pass over the "gladiators" who, while armored within by day, exhibit the utility of their armor even outwardly, because they are moved by an itch and studiously search for lice, though they are troubled from other quarters and stir up attention in various ways; but at night D they cast off such a burden so that they may be light for sleeping. And those who smear the hollow rim of an iron hoop with blood, so that it may seem to be gnawing the ascetic's flesh and thus bringing forth blood of that kind—may God destroy them, for they delight in blood, as if they were men of blood, from whom the Psalmist David prays to be delivered.
36. But it occurs to me, having mentioned this, to set forth a certain ridiculous incident, which once came to the broad experience of those in the Great City [Constantinople] and remained fixed in our constant memory, having struck us with its novelty. There was once a crafty lover of the solitary virtue, when John Comnenus was directing the Roman Empire under the most auspicious circumstances, who was intercepted, constrained by iron, entirely a stain, a repulsive grease, an indelible filth. Reeking intensely, he alienated others because he was girded about with filth; but words also bound him to a common nickname, and he was called a buffoon. This man, then, in the guise of virtue, at first indeed...
to call. He who at first was imagined to be an angel by those who esteemed his virtue, but was later recognized A in truth by demonstration to be a demon, and was carried even above that one—in matters where he sinned more grossly against his flesh, he craftily devised away his own flesh, as if it were being eaten away into the depths by the rubbing of iron, just as wood is by a saw. And the deception was truly petty, and not only in actuality but also in the manner of it. Taking the lung or liver of an animal, he would shred it into small, green pieces, such as those that have been chewed, and would fit it where the iron allowed; and he would receive his visitors, and after a short conversation would shake gently, as if he were in pain from the biting. Then, letting his hand down inside where he had smeared that lung, and using his craft, he brought the foul-smelling servant out into the light, and having cried out painfully, "My flesh!" he shook it B by artifice, so that part of the filth, already stinking of rot, fell to the ground, while part remained in the cavities beneath his fingernails; by washing it away as if it were muddy sludge, he sent forth great wonder to those who did not yet know it, he who was worthy of vexation not only for this true erosion, but also for these worms there.
37. Whom would such men spare, when they commit outrages against their own bodies? What stain would they not feign, those who are so bloodthirsty? What reproach would be appropriate for men to whom this bloody dye is a good, just as rouge is for women? Who would worthily recoil from this iron-willed type of person, whose business it is to be clothed in gold through hypocrisy, and thus at the turning point of his ruin to end up in gold, or at least in silver?
38. There C are also noted among the saints of old a few great stylites, those who walked in heaven, who as if by ladders, by the pillars, drew near to heaven. But the present generation, like trees thick in a woodland in many places of the earth, produces a stylitic tribe, which is not a tree of life nor a tree of knowledge, but almost wood, pure and simple, and not even like that Dodonaean one, whose fame was great, but something else sounding forth weirdly, from which only this can be gathered: "Bless me." And if anyone were to seek teaching in the present-day stylites, the excuse for the ignorant stylite, for the fact that they cannot speak, is either the wind, whistling shrilly and obstructing the articulation of the voice, or some sort of ascetic thinness, through which speech is constricted. Thus, while failing in the D virtue of contemplation, such a person yet very clearly directs the operation of his hands for profit, through which he winches up the basket when a coin clinks against it. And such are those things of his that are manifest, but the things within are known by the Father who sees things in secret. Thus those who are ranked above, the children of hypocrisy, the imitators of the demon (for no one could describe the remaining forms of their hypocrisies, even if he were to labor at writing a thousand books), deceive the more simple-minded to the great condemnation of the monastic life, and become liable before God to heavy punishment, because through them is blasphemed, not only in