Palladius, Bishop of Helenopolis: The Lausiac History

COPY OF THE EPISTLE WRITTEN TO LAUSUS, PREPOSITUS, BY PALLADIUS THE BISHOP

^A I bless your resolve; for it is right that the epistle should begin with a blessing, since, while all others are agape at vanities from which they will derive no benefit, you yourself are building up through words and desire to be taught. For God alone, the Author of all things, is untaught, since He is self-originate and has no one before Him; but all other things are teachable, since they are created and made. The first ranks have the supreme Trinity as their teacher; the second learn from the first; the third from the second; and so on in order, down to the very last. For those who are superior in mind and virtue teach those who are inferior in knowledge. Therefore, those who think they have no need of teachers are ailing from ignorance—the mother of pride—and do not obey those who teach in love. Foremost among these in [falling into] perdition are those who, having fallen from the heavenly conduct by the same passion, are like the demons flying in the air, having fled from the teachers who are in heaven. ^B For teachings do not consist in words or syllables—which even the most wicked sometimes possess—but in the achievements of character: freedom from grief, fearlessness, courage, freedom from anger, and candor in all things, which begets words like a flame of fire. If this were not so, the great Teacher would not have said to His own disciples, "Learn from me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." He was not regulating the apostles by elegance of language, but by the piety of His character, hurting no one except those who hate reason and despise teachers. Therefore, the soul that is being trained according to Christ must either learn faithfully what it does not know, or teach clearly what it has learned. For if one does not wish for either, one suffers from madness. For the beginning of apostasy is boredom with teaching and an anorexia for the word, for which the soul of the lover of God always hungers. Be strong, then, and be healthy, and may God grant you the great gift, the knowledge of Christ.

NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF THE HOLY FATHERS

^C Since many people at different times have left behind various writings about the life—some from divine inspiration and grace given by God for the edification and security of those who follow the dogmas of the Savior with faithful intent; others from a human-pleasing and corrupt intent, having wallowed in the mire to soothe those who itch for vainglory; others [writing] from a certain untimely madness and the working of the hater of good, the devil, through pride and wrath—to the injury of easily deceived men and to the staining of the immaculate and catholic Church, by infiltrating the minds of the senseless with hostility toward the venerable and pure way of life—it seemed good to me, the humble, out of regard for the hope in Christ and reverence for the command of your magnanimity, O most studious of men, first to narrate everything concerning myself, both of my age and of the progress of the intellect in the virtue toward God, beginning from my youth.

Having spent my thirty-third year in the monastic life, or rather the solitary life, and twenty years in the episcopate, and fifty-three in total of my entire life, I thought it necessary, because you desire it, to narrate in writing for the sake of spiritual benefit the achievements of the holy Fathers, both men and women, whom I myself have seen, and about whom I have heard from most faithful souls, and with whom I have associated in the desert of Egypt, in Libya, and in the Thebaid, and Syene, under which are also the so-called Tabennesiotes; ^D then in Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Syria, and in the parts of the West—in Rome and Campania, and in the regions around those places—to set it forth for you most accurately from the beginning in the form of a narrative in this book; so that, having a venerable and soul-benefiting reminder as an uninterrupted antidote of truth, you might, by casting off through it every drowsiness of forgetfulness generated in the soul by irrational desire, and every doubt in faith—and the stinginess in needs, and all the sloth and faintheartedness in character, and quick-temperedness, and irrational turmoil, and untimely fear—and by fleeing the vain agitation of the corrupt world with unceasing longing, progress in the hope toward God, becoming an example of piety for yourself and for those with you, and those under you, and for the most pious sovereigns. By these achievements, all who love Christ hasten to be united to God, awaiting also the departure of the soul from the body—manifestly daily—according to the written word: "I am hard-pressed by both, having a desire to depart and be with Christ; which is far better" (Phil. I, 23). And also: "Prepare your works for your departure, and ready yourself for the field." For one who always remembers death, knowing that it will surely come by necessity, and will not delay, will not stumble greatly, according to the writing: "In all your words remember your final end, and you will not sin for eternity" (Eccles. VII, 36). And above all other things, do not be calculating against us regarding this brief project of these explanations, nor despise the simplicity and lack of elegance of the words. For it is not the task of divine teaching to speak with sophistry, but to persuade the mind with thoughts of truth, according to that which is said: "Open your mouth for the word of God, and judge all things soundly." And again: "Decline not from the narrative of the elders; for they themselves have learned from their fathers."

^A I, therefore, most inquisitive man of God, following in part this advice, have met with many of the saints, not having used a cursory intellect, but having accomplished a journey of thirty days and twice that distance, as if upon God’s earth having trodden the whole Roman world on foot, I embraced the hardship of the journey for the sake of meeting a God-fearing man, that I might gain what I did not possess. For if he who is by far better than I, and perhaps better than the whole world, he who has surpassed many in the knowledge of the monastic life, and in spiritual understanding, and in faith in Christ, the blessed apostle Paul, undertook a journey from Tarsus to Judea for the sake of meeting Peter and John and James—for which reason he describes it as a kind of boast, holding up his labors to exasperate those living in sloth and idleness and forcing the monastic life—in saying, "I went up to Jerusalem to visit Peter," not being satisfied with the reputation of his virtue alone, but longing also for the encounter of his very person; how much more I, a debtor of ten thousand talents, ought to have done this, not to benefit those saints, but to benefit myself, the sinner. For indeed, those who have written down the lives of the Fathers—of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Moses and Elijah, and those who followed them—did not explain them so that they might glorify them, but that they might benefit those who come upon them.

Knowing this, therefore, most faithful and venerable servant of Christ, Lausus, by way of admonishing yourself much, bear also with our chatter for the sake of preserving your pious resolve, which is prone to be tossed by diverse visible and invisible evils, but our constant prayer and attention to our own duties can calm it. For many of the more devout brothers, abounding in the labors of asceticism and almsgiving, and boasting of their celibacy and complete virginity, and straining themselves in the study of divine oracles, and trusting in the learning of their studies, have missed the mark of impassibility, serving with an undiscerning mind, and having become diseased with busybody-ness under the pretext of some false piety, from which are born also [other] busybody-nesses, rooting out the mother of attention to one's own duties.

Show yourself, therefore, with all understanding, I pray, not fattening your wealth—which indeed you have done, having sufficiently diminished it by distributing it to those in need. Therefore, do not allow the ministry resulting from this, which becomes a work of virtue, to be done by any impulse or irrational prejudice, or under the pretext of any judgment of man-pleasing, nor bind your resolve with an oath, as many have suffered, who, having enslaved their free will to the necessity of an oath out of contentious vainglory not to drink or eat, and having fallen under this again in a wretched way, have conceived perjury for the sake of the love of life, or despondency, or bodily weakness, and the desire for some pleasure. Therefore, by partaking with reason and by abstaining with reason, you will never sin. For God is the reason which banishes from us those things which are harmful and receives those things which are beneficial. For "there is no law," he says, "set for the righteous man." For it is better to have a moderate intake of wine with reason than an intake of water with arrogance. And see for me, [that there are] men who are holy and drink wine with the reason of piety, and [men who] are profane and corrupted who have drunk water with foolishness and madness. Do not any longer blame or praise the substance of foods, but bless or blame the mind of those who use the substance badly or well. Joseph at one time drank wine among the Egyptians, but he was not harmed in his mind; for he had secured his resolve. Pythagoras, and Diogenes, and Plato drank water; among whom are also the Manichaeans, and the rest of the body of those who profess to be philosophers; and they drove their vainglory to such a degree of licentiousness that they even failed to know God, the Creator of all things, and worshipped inanimate idols. And those around the blessed apostle Peter also partook of the use of wine, so that the Lord and Teacher of these men—and Savior of all—was himself reproached by the Jews, who called them to account for partaking: "Why do thy disciples not fast, as do those of John?" And again they pursued the disciples, and reproaching them, the disobedient said, "Your teacher eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners." And they would not have taken hold [of them] on account of bread and water, if not, clearly, on account of side-dishes and wine. To those who in every way irrationally blame wine-drinking, but admire water-drinking, the Savior replies, "John came in the way of righteousness, not eating, nor drinking"—that is, meat and wine. For without the others he could not live; "and they say, He has a demon. The Son of man came eating and drinking; and they say, Behold a man who is a glutton and a wine-drinker, a friend of tax collectors and sinners," because of the eating and drinking. What then shall we do? Let us follow neither those who blame nor those who praise; but let us either fast with John by reason, even if they say to us, "You have a demon," or let us drink wine with the wisdom of Jesus, if the body requires it, even if they say to us, "Behold, men who are gluttons and wine-drinkers." For neither is eating anything in truth, nor is abstinence, but it is faith working through love extended to works. For when faith follows every action, the one who eats and drinks is unassailable, because of faith. For "everything that is not from faith is sin." But since everyone who is a lover of pleasure, or one who commits any transgression, will say that I partake in faith, or [that] someone else doing something out of irrational desire, or with a corrupted conscience, [while] leaning on faith, has erred. For the Savior defined it, saying, "By their fruits ye shall know them." That the fruit of those who walk according to the divine word and spiritual understanding, according to the divine Apostle, is love, and joy, and peace, and longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, purity, is acknowledged. For the blessed Paul himself said, "The fruit of the Spirit is these and these." That the one who is diligent to have such fruits will not eat meat, nor will he drink wine, irrationally, or unseasonably, or aimlessly,

EPITSTLE TO LAUSUS

^A And so, I, a man most studious of the knowledge of God, following this saying in part, have visited many holy men. Nor did such a thought come into my mind when I was occupied with other matters, but after I had finished a journey of thirty—and indeed twice that many—days, and had, by the grace of God, traveled on foot making my way through the whole Roman region, I counted the weariness of the journey as nothing, if I could meet a man pious and a friend of God, that I might gain what I did not possess. For if the blessed Apostle Paul, who is by far superior to me—and indeed perhaps even to the entire world—and who surpassed many in his manner of conducting his life, in knowledge, in spiritual understanding, and in faith in Christ, traveled from Tarsus into Judea to meet Peter, and John, and James; and for this reason he narrates it as if boasting, referring to his own labors to urge on those who spend their lives in sloth and idleness, saying: "I went up to Jerusalem to see Cephas," not content with the mere fame of his virtue, but desiring also to look upon his face (Gal. i); how much more ought I, who am a debtor of innumerably many talents, to have done this, not that I might benefit those holy men, but that I might bring benefit to myself, a sinner. For even those ^B who wrote the Lives of the Fathers—of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Moses, and Elijah, and John, and those who subsequently followed—did not write so that their glory might be illuminated, but so that they might be profitable to those who read them.

Knowing this, therefore, most faithful and especially venerable servant of Christ, Lausus, by often admonishing yourself, bear our foolishness patiently, that you may guard your pious mind, to which it is inherent by nature to be agitated like the waves by diverse vices, both those that fall under view and those that do not; but it can be calmed by continuous prayer alone and by the care of your own self. For many, even from among the brothers who were a little more religious—who were pleased with themselves regarding the labors of exercise and almsgiving, and who boasted of their celibacy and perfect and absolute virginity, and were vehement in their intent of mind upon the meditation of divine eloquence, and were reliant upon the discipline of good things—went astray from impassibility (read with caution), serving their own rash judgment; as those who, under the pretext of some piety, labored with the desire of transacting business, from which arise both excessive solicitudes for transacting business and the application of the mind to evil businesses, which are followed by cares for the business of others, which root out the care of honest businesses, which is the mother of the care of one’s own self.

Be, therefore, I beg you, strong in all understanding, not making riches fat and shining, which indeed you have certainly done, sufficiently diminishing them by imparting to those in need: and these have been a ministry to you for the exercise of virtue, since neither by any impulse, nor by any anticipation lacking reason, nor by any pretext to please men, have you bound your free will to choose by an oath, as happens to many men who, when they have subjected their free will to the contentious vainglory of not eating or drinking, by the necessity of an oath have wretchedly succumbed to it again, or by the love of life and sloth, or by bodily weakness, or by the desire of some pleasure, suffering perjury. If therefore you both share in reason and abstain by reason, you will never sin. For reason in us is divine, which indeed exterminates from those admonitions that are in us those things that are harmful, but assumes those things that are useful. For "to the just," he says, "the law is not placed" (1 Tim. i). It is better, therefore, to drink wine with reason than water with pride and arrogance. And indeed, look upon those for me who, with the reason ^C of piety and religion, drink wine, as holy men; but those who, inconsiderately and without reason, have drunk water with arrogance, as profane and corrupted men. And do not further vituperate or praise the substance of food or drink, but judge the mind of those who use the substance rightly or wrongly as blessed or miserable. Joseph sometimes drank wine among the Egyptians, but he was not harmed in his mind; for he was fortified in spirit. But Pythagoras and Diogenes and Plato drank water, among whom were also the Manichaeans and the rest of the assembly of theologian philosophers, and the intemperance of vain opinion led them to such a point that they were ignorant of God himself, the maker of all things, and adored inanimate idols. The disciples who were with the blessed Apostle Peter also partook of the use of wine, to such an extent that it was cast as a reproach upon the Lord himself and their master, and the Savior of all (Matt. xi), by the Jews who grumbled about their participation, and said: "Why do thy disciples not fast, as the disciples of John do?" (Mark ii)? And they insulted the disciples again, and the unbelievers, reviling, said: "Your Master eats and drinks with publicans and sinners" (Luke v). But they would not have reproached them regarding bread and water, except regarding the side-dish and wine, of course, those who vituperate the drinking of wine, but praise and admire water. But the Savior answers beautifully, saying: John came in the way of righteousness, not eating, nor drinking—that is, meat and wine, for he could not have lived without other things—and they say: "He has a demon." The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say: "Behold a man gluttonous and a wine-drinker, a friend of publicans and sinners" (Matt. xi), because he eats and drinks. What therefore shall we do? Let us neither follow those who vituperate, nor those who praise. But let us either fast with John by reason, even if the Jews say to us: "You have a demon"; or let us wisely drink wine with Jesus, if the body requires it, even if they say to us: "Behold men gluttonous and wine-drinkers." For in reality food is nothing, nor drink, but faith which is extended by love through works. For when faith has followed every action, one who eats and drinks cannot be condemned, on account of faith. "For whatever is not of faith is sin" (Rom. xvi). But when one of those who are voluptuous, or of those who sin in any other way, says: "I partake in faith, or I do some other thing," leaning upon faith with a desire foreign to reason or a corrupted conscience, he slips. For the Savior distinguished, saying: "By their fruits ye shall know them" (Matt. vii). But that the fruit of those who institute their life by divine reason and spiritual understanding is, by the sentiment of the divine Apostle, love, and joy, and peace, and longanimity—

gentleness, kindness, faith, meekness, self-control, chastity (Gal. v), is beyond controversy. For the blessed Paul himself said: “But the fruit of the Spirit is” this and that. Now, he who strives to possess such fruits will not—without reason, or inconsiderately, or at an unseasonable time—eat meat, nor drink wine, nor dwell with any evil conscience. The same blessed Paul said again: “Everyone who competes exercises self-control in all things” (1 Cor. IX). When the body is healthy, one abstains from those things which cause obesity; but if it is sick, or consumed by grief, or afflicted by some circumstance, then one will use food or drink as a medicine, to treat those things which cause distress. But one will abstain from those things which are harmful to the soul—anger and envy, vainglory, sorrow and detraction, pride and haughtiness—giving thanks to God.

Since I have discoursed sufficiently on these matters, I bring to your docility another exhortation. Flee with all your might from the gatherings of those men who provide no utility and who adorn their skin in a manner inconsistent with propriety, even if they are orthodox, not only if they be heretics; they cause harm through hypocrisy, even if they present themselves as having long experience by way of gray hair and a wrinkled brow. For even if you are not harmed by their noble manners, that which seems to be the least thing will certainly wound you. For, becoming insolent, you are carried away in spirit, mocking them. This, indeed, will bring you ruin, as you will have fallen into pride. Rather, pursue holy gatherings of men and women before the clear window [of conscience], so that, through them, as if through a finely written book, you may be able to see your own heart openly and, by comparison, test your own sloth or diligence. For there are many things that bear witness to probity: the color of a countenance which flourishes in that life which is lived [in virtue], the adornment of garments, composed manners, modesty of speech, words not exquisite and affected, an elegant sentiment, and thoughts possessed of wisdom. The Lord, however, will give strength to your meekness, and to all who follow the goal of piety, even if something should happen through sloth or chance. For the clothing, the gait of the foot, and the laughter of the teeth shall speak of a man, as the Book of Proverbs says (Eccles. x).

Beginning, therefore, to narrate to you the life of the holy Fathers, I will not omit from my discourse those who are in cities, or villages, or caves, or deserts; I shall add to these even those who are in cenobies. For it is not the place that is sought, in which they behaved themselves rightly and according to virtue, but the mode of their right instruction, through which, with Christ's help, they lived an angelic life.

CHAPTER I. Life of Isidore the presbyter and xenodochos.

When, therefore, I first came to the city of Alexandria, in the second consulship of the great emperor Theodosius—who, because of his right faith in Christ, is now with the angels—I fell in with a certain man in that very city who was wonderful and adorned in every respect: in speech, in manners, and in knowledge. This was Isidore, who was both a presbyter and a xenodochos of the Alexandrian church. It was said that he had spent his early youth living in solitude, having performed the struggles of asceticism. I even saw his cell on Mount Nitria; but I met him when he was an old man, seventy years of age; and having lived another fifteen years, he died in peace. ^A This holy man, until the hour of his death, wore no linen except for a headband; he made no use of the bath, did not touch meat, and never left the table having been filled to satiety. Moreover, he was by God’s grace so well-tempered in body that all who were ignorant of the regimen of his diet were persuaded that he lived sumptuously and luxuriously. If I were to wish to narrate the virtues of his soul one by one, time would fail me in the telling. He was so mild, kind, and peaceful that even the unbelievers, his enemies, out of reverence for his extraordinary goodness, respected even his shadow because of his right faith in Christ. He possessed such spiritual grace and knowledge of the holy Scriptures, and such a comprehension of divine dogmas, that even at a banquet, at the usual hour of the brethren's refreshment, he would fall into an ecstasy of mind, and he himself would become mute and struck with wonder; and when he was asked to relate what had happened in his ecstasy, he would say: “My mind has been on a journey, seized by some contemplation.” I myself know that he was often seen in tears at the table; and when he was asked the cause of his weeping, I heard him saying: “It brings me shame to consume food which belongs to another, when I am possessed of reason and ought to be lingering in the paradise of delights, filled with ambrosial nourishment, because of the power which has been given to us by the Lord.” He was known at Rome to the entire senate and to the wives of the nobles, at the time when he had first departed with the blessed bishop Athanasius, and afterwards with the holy bishop Demetrius. Although he possessed an abundance of wealth and the things ^B necessary for use, he did not write a will upon his departure, nor did he leave money or any property to his sisters who were virgins, but he commended them to Christ, saying: “God who created you will also provide your sustenance, just as He does for me.” The community of virgins that was with his sisters was seventy in number. He, when I had come to him as a young man and begged to be co-opted into the monastic life—with my age still being wanton and having no need of words, but of labors that would subdue the flesh, and a hard and austere rule of life that would humble the body—he, I say, like a good trainer of colts, led me outside the city to those things which are called

^A the desert places, five miles away.

For the same blessed Apostle Paul also said again that he will not associate with anyone who has an evil conscience: "Everyone who competes exercises self-control in all things," provided the flesh is healthy and avoids those things that make it fat. If it is sick, or in pain, or sharing in distresses or trials, he will then use food or drink as medicinal antidotes for their healing, but he will abstain from those things that are harmful to the soul—anger, envy, vainglory, despondency, slander, and irrational suspicion—giving thanks to the Lord.

Having discoursed sufficiently on these matters, I again put forward another exhortation to your love of learning. Flee, as much as you are able, from encounters with men who have no benefit and who adorn their skin excessively, even if they should be orthodox—to say nothing of heretics—for they do harm by their hypocrisy, even if they seem to drag out a long time with gray hairs on their head or wrinkles on their face. For even if you are not harmed by them due to the nobility of your own character, the very thing that seems trifling will wound you. And becoming conceited in your mind against them, you will be lifted up in mocking them, which is a harm to you, as you have fallen into pride. But for a bright window, pursue the holy company of men and women, so that through them, like a finely written book, you might be able to see clearly even your own heart, being able to test your own slothfulness or diligence through comparison. ^B For many are the things that testify to virtue: the complexion of the faces blooming from their way of life, and the arrangement of their clothing, and their unaffected character, and the humility of their words, and the reverence of their conduct, and the simplicity of their speech, and the charm of their mind, and the intelligence of their thoughts. The Lord will strengthen your propriety, and all who follow the aim of godliness—even if you should happen to be in despondency or some other trial. For, "the clothing of a man," he says, "the step of his foot, and the laughter of his teeth shall declare what is in him," as the Proverb says.

Having therefore begun for you the explanations of the life of the holy Fathers, I will not leave them unknown to you in my discourse, whether they are in cities or villages or caves or deserts, having added also those who are in coenobitic communities. For it is not the place that is sought where these men dwell and achieved virtue, but the mode of righteous intent, through which they practiced the angelic way of life with the alliance of Christ.

CHAPTER I. Concerning Isidore the Hospitaller

^A First, then, having stepped into the city of the Alexandrians in the second consulship of Theodosius the Great, the king—who now resides among the angels because of his right faith in Christ—I met in that very city a marvelous man, adorned in every way in his conduct, as well as in speech, and character, and knowledge: Isidore the presbyter, who was a hospitaller of the Church of the Alexandrians. It is said that in the first stages of his youth he had spent time in the desert and completed the labors of asceticism, where I even saw his cell on the mountain of Nitria. I came upon him when he was a seventy-year-old man, and having lived fifteen more years, he died in peace. This holy man, up until his very death, wore no linen except for a napkin; he never used a bath, never tasted meat, and never filled himself to satiety at a table. He had a body so sustained by the grace of God that all those who were ignorant of his diet were fully convinced that he was living in great luxury. If I wished to narrate his virtues of soul in detail, time would fail me in the telling. He was so gentle, and philanthropic, and peaceable, that even his unbelieving enemies, because of his right faith in Christ, revered even his shadow out of the superabundance of the man’s goodness. He had such spiritual grace, and knowledge of the holy Scriptures, and grasp of divine dogmas, that even at the very feasts of the customary hour of the brothers' taking of food, his mind would be rapt, and he would be beside himself; and when urged to tell of the ecstasy, he would say that "I departed in my mind, snatched away by some vision." I myself often saw him weeping at the table, and having inquired the cause of the tears, I heard him say, "I am ashamed, as I partake of mindless food while being a rational being, and ought to be in the paradise of delight, and to be consuming ambrosial food, because of the authority given to us by Christ." This man was known to the entire Senate at Rome—certainly to the wives of the dignitaries—when he had gone away with the blessed Athanasius the first time, and then with the holy Demetrius the bishop. Being a man of wealth and abundance of necessities, he wrote no will when he was dying, nor did he leave behind coin or property to his own sisters, who were virgins; but he entrusted them to Christ, saying, "God, who created you, will himself provide for you the things for life, as he does for me." There was with his sisters a community of seventy virgins. ^B This man, to me as a young man who came to him and was asking to be initiated into the monastic life—while my strength was still vigorous and in no need of words, but rather of labors according to the flesh and the hardship of the body—this man, like a good trainer of colts, led me outside the city to those things which are called the desert places, five miles away.

^A and having made the sign of the cross over the water, he said: "Where the cross comes, the wickedness of Satan has no power."

Chapter III. On Potamiena

The blessed Isidore the hospitaller, having encountered the holy and blessed Antony, related a matter worthy of record, having heard it from him: That Potamiena, a most beautiful maiden, was in the time of Maximian the persecutor a handmaid to a certain profligate. Her master, having entreated her much with various promises, could not entice her. In the end, becoming mad with rage, he delivered her to the prefect of Alexandria at that time, having surrendered her as a Christian, and blaspheming both the times and the emperors regarding the persecutions, promising him a substantial sum of money for this disaster of hers. "If you prevail upon her," he said, "to agree to my purpose, keep her unpunished. But if she persists in her original austerity," he besought that she be punished to the death, "so that," he said, "living, she might not mock my profligacy." Brought before the tribunal, the brave woman was tortured in her body with various instruments of punishment. And she fought back in her mind against many and various trains of thought, among which instruments of torture a more cruel torment than the others was found by the judge of that time. He ordered a large cauldron to be filled with pitch and to be heated by a most brilliant fire. So, as the pitch was boiling and burning fiercely, the inhuman governor set it before that blessed woman, saying, "Either depart, and submit to the desires of your master, or, so that you may know, I order you to be cast into the cauldron." But she answered, saying, "May there never be such an unjust judge as to order me to submit to profligacy." Therefore, having lost his senses, he ordered her to be stripped and cast into the cauldron. But she uttered a cry, saying, "By the head of your king, whom you fear, if it has been decreed for you to punish me in such a way, do not order me to be stripped, but command me to be lowered into the boiling pitch little by little, so that you may see how much patience Christ, whom you ignore, has granted me." And having been lowered little by little, as if over the space of three hours, she thus breathed her last, as the pitch reached up to her neck.

Chapter IV. On Didymus

A great host of the company of holy men and women was perfected at that time in the Church of the Alexandrians, having been found worthy of the land of the meek. Among whom was also perfected the blessed Didymus the writer, who became blind, with whom I had four meetings, going to him at intervals over ten years. He passed away at the age of eighty-five. He was blind, as he himself told me, having lost his sight at the age of four, neither having learned letters nor having attended teachers; for he possessed the [knowledge] according...

Hermit cells, about five miles from the city. ^A

CAPUT II. Dorotheus the Theban.

And he turned me over to a certain Dorotheus, an ascetic from Thebes, who was spending his sixtieth year in a cave, and he ordered me to complete three years with him to tame the perturbations of the soul (for he knew that the elder lived a very hard and austere life), and after I had completed the number of years, [I was to] return to him, as he had mandated for the rest of my spiritual instruction. But since I had not been able to complete the three-year term with him, because I had fallen into a severe illness, I left him before the appointed time. For the manner of his life was extremely harsh, squalid, and utterly arid. For all day long, and especially in the heat of midday, in the solitude near the sea, he would collect stones, and by them always building and making cells, he would dedicate them to those who were unable to build, building a cell each year. But when I once said to this holy man: "What are you doing, Father, in such great old age, killing your little body with intolerable heats?" He answered me, saying: "It kills me, and I also shall kill it." He ate six ounces of bread every day and a bunch of wild herbs; but of water he drank only a small amount. Now I call God to witness that I never knew him to have stretched out his feet, nor to have slept in a bed or on a mattress; but sitting for the whole night he would weave a rope from palm branches, so that from it he might provide for his sustenance. When I wondered at him—for I was there alone—that he should use such extreme discipline, I inquired to know from many of his disciples whether he always used such an accurate and exact discipline: they indeed remained themselves also separated afterwards, conducting themselves rightly and virtuously. They told me that he had established his life in that way from his youth, never sleeping on purpose unless, during work or eating, he would sometimes doze off with downcast eyes; so that often even the bread would fall from his mouth at the time of eating because of excessive drowsiness. But when I once forced this holy man to lie down for a little while on a mat, bearing it with difficulty, he said to me: "If you ever persuade the angels to sleep, then you will also persuade a devotee of virtue."

One day he sent me to his well around the ninth hour, that I might fill a jar, which he might use for his meal when the time for eating arrived. It happened, however, that when I approached, I saw an asp deep in the well, and for fear I did not draw water at all, but running back, I reported it to him, saying: "We are lost, Abba, for I have seen an asp down in the well." He, however, smiling kindly—for he cared greatly for me—and shaking his head, said: "If it should seem good to the devil to throw snakes and asps, or tortoises, or other poisonous animals into every well, and into all fountains of water, ^B will you never drink?" But he himself went out from the cell, and having drawn [water] by himself, drank while fasting, after he had first fortified himself with the sign of the cross, and said: "Where the cross is present, there the wickedness of the devil lacks power."

CAPUT III. The acts and temperance of Potamiaena.

The blessed Isidore, the hospitaller, who had approached the blessed Antony, told me that he had heard from him a matter worthy to be committed to writing.

A certain Potamiaena, a most beautiful damsel, at the time of the persecutor Maximian, was the servant of a certain intemperate and libidinous man. When her master had often entreated her and promised her various things, he was unable to deceive her. Wherefore it happened that he, at last incited by fury, handed her over to the Alexandrian prefect, who at that time, just as he was hostile to Christians and to those who pursued the times and emperors with curses because of the persecutions; he promised to give them a great sum of money for her calamity, saying: "If you will persuade her to consent to my desire, keep her unharmed by any punishment. But if she remains in the austerity she has shown from the beginning, he asked that she suffer punishment and die, lest," he said, "living, she mock my intemperance." But brought before the tribunal, the brave virgin, with various instruments prepared for imposing punishments, was tortured in body, and against many and various arguments she resisted in mind like a firm and stable tower. But among the instruments of torture, a certain punishment more cruel than the others was invented by him who was then judge. For he ordered a great cauldron filled with pitch to be set on fire with the most vehement heat. When, therefore, the pitch was boiling and burning fiercely, the cruel governor turned to that blessed woman and said: "Go, yield to the will of your master; otherwise, that you may understand, I order you to be rolled into the cauldron." She, however, answered, saying: "Far be it that there should be a judge so wicked who would order me to yield to lust and intemperance." He, therefore, incited by fury, orders her to be stripped and thrown into the cauldron. She, however, lets out a voice, saying: "By the head of the emperor ^C whom you fear, if you have decided so to inflict punishment on me, do not order me to be stripped; but order me to be lowered little by little into the boiling pitch, that you may see how great a patience Christ, whom you do not know, has bestowed upon me." She, being thus lowered little by little over the space of three hours, gave up her spirit when the pitch had reached her neck.

CAPUT IV. Life of Didymus the blind.

A very great body of holy men and women was then perfected in the Alexandrian church, who were found worthy of the land of the meek. Among whom is also perfected the blessed writer Didymus, who was blind. With whom I had a meeting four times, when I would go to him at an interval of ten years. He, however, was perfected at the age of eighty-five. Now he was blind, as he who, when he was four years old, had lost his eyes, as he himself told me; and he neither learned letters nor attended teachers. For he had according to nature

a firm and valid mistress, one’s own conscience. So great, moreover, was she adorned with the grace of spiritual knowledge, that that which is written was truly fulfilled in him: *The Lord enlighteneth the blind* (Ps. cxlv). For he would interpret the Old and New Testaments literally: and he would expound dogmas so subtly and so vigorously, that he surpassed all the ancients in his learning.

When he once compelled me to pray in his cell, and I was unwilling, he said to me, relating: “Three times blessed Anthony has entered this cell to visit me; and who, when asked by me to pray, immediately bent his knee in this cell, and did not commit the error of making me repeat it again, teaching me by the very deed in obedience. Wherefore, if you also follow the footsteps of his life, as one who is a monk and a guest for the sake of virtue, lay aside all contention.”

He himself also narrated this to me: “When one day,” he said, “I was anxious about the life of the miserable emperor Julian, for he was a persecutor, and I was distressed in spirit, it happened that on account of this anxiety I ate nothing until late in the evening. And when I sat upon a seat, sleep overcame me, and I saw in an ecstasy white horses running with riders, and announcing: ‘Tell Didymus, today at the seventh hour Julian died; rise then and eat: and what you know, send home to bishop Athanasius, that he might know this too.’ I took note, however,” he said, “of the hour, and the day, and the week, and the month, and thus I found it to be.”

CAPUT V. The Life of Alexandra.

This blessed man also narrated to me concerning a certain handmaiden, by the name of Alexandra, who, having left the city, shut herself up in a tomb, receiving through an aperture the things that were necessary, and neither coming into the sight of men nor of women for a space of ten years. In the tenth year, they say that the blessed woman, when she had fallen asleep, had composed herself, so that when she who was accustomed to come to her received no answer, she reported it to us. When we therefore had approached, and had removed the door of the tomb, we entered and found that she had fallen asleep in the Lord.

The most blessed Melania the Roman, whose life I shall relate at a convenient time and place, also spoke of her (Infra, here, cap. 117). “I could not,” she said, “behold the face of this blessed woman: but as I stood about the aperture, I asked her to tell me the reason on account of which she had withdrawn from the city, and shut herself up in the tomb.” She, however, spoke to me through the aperture, saying: “A certain man,” she said, “was held by an insane love for me, and lest I should appear to cause him molestation, or bring him into disrepute, I preferred to carry myself living into this tomb, rather than offend a soul which was made to the image of God.” When I had said to her: “How can you bear, handmaiden of Christ God, to speak with no one at all, but to fight alone with sloth and thoughts?” she answered me, saying: “From morning until the ninth hour I pray; through that hour ^A I spin flax; in the remaining hours I turn over in my mind the lives of the holy Fathers, and the patriarchs, and the contests of the blessed apostles, and prophets, and martyrs. But after the evening has arrived, when I have glorified my Lord, I take a morsel of bread, persevering for many hours of the night in prayer, and awaiting the end, when I shall be dissolved from this place with good hope, and shall appear before the face of Christ God.”

I will not omit, however, in my narrative, those also who have thus lived, that they might indeed parade before themselves the appearance of piety and religion; but would scorn it, to the praise of those who conduct themselves rightly and out of virtue, and that those who read may be wary and attentive.

CAPUT VI. Concerning a certain Virgin who labored under the love of riches.

There was a certain virgin in Alexandria, in name only, humble in habit, but sparing in the intention of her mind, proud and insolent, and suffering from avarice, a lover of gold rather than of Christ: she was one who never exhibited anything of her own belongings to anyone, not to a guest, nor to a poor or afflicted person, not to a monk, not to a virgin, not to the church, not even an obol. Provoked by the many admonitions of the holy Fathers, she would not push away the heavy burden of riches. There was, moreover, also a relative of hers, out of whom she had adopted her sister’s daughter as her own daughter. To her, by night and day, she would promise her possessions, while she herself had fallen away from the celestial riches. For this also is one species of the fraud of the devil, who, under the pretext of love for kinsfolk, causes avarice to be born. That she had no care for her kinsfolk is evident from this. For he [the devil] himself taught that one should kill both brother, and mother, and father. And that is beyond controversy from the Scriptures. But even if it appears to some that he introduces care for kinsfolk (Deut. xii), he does not do this because he wishes them well, but so that he might openly exercise the soul of those who obey him unto injustice, when he knows the heavy sentence which says: *The unjust shall not possess the kingdom of God* (1 Cor. vi). One may, however, be moved by spiritual intelligence and divine desire, and neither neglect his own soul, nor fail to afford help to kinsfolk, if they lack anything. When, however, one so directs his whole soul that it is despised and overwhelmed by the care of kinsfolk (14), he falls into the law, as one who esteems his own soul as nothing. The holy psalmograph David also sings of those who manage the care of the soul, in the fear of God saying: *Who shall ascend into the mountain of the Lord?* Because it is rare. *Or who shall stand in his holy place? Innocent of hands, and clean of heart, who hath not taken his soul in vain* (Ps. xxiii). For they take their soul in vain, who think it is to be dissolved together with this little flesh, who neglect spiritual virtues.

^{B C} But concerning that virgin who had prepared for herself an appellation in name alone, but in character was alien from discipline, since she wished, as it is said, to open a vein to alleviate her avarice, the most holy Macarius (15) the presbyter and prefect of the hospital for those who are mutilated in body, pondered such an act. For he was from his youth a lapidary (16). Approaching her then, he says: “Beautiful gems have fallen to me,

^A a nature that is a vigorous teacher of one’s own conscience; he was so adorned with the grace of spiritual knowledge that, as the history says, that which was written was fulfilled: *The Lord opens the eyes of the blind*. For he interpreted both the Old and New Scripture literally; and as for the dogmas, he concerned himself with them in such a way, expounding the discourse concerning them so finely and with such great power, that he surpassed all the ancients in knowledge.”

Once, when he was constraining me to say a prayer in his house, and I was unwilling, he said to me, relating that: “Into this cell, the blessed Anthony entered for a third time, coming to visit me; and having been entreated by me to offer a prayer, he immediately bowed his knee in this cell, and he did not allow me to repeat the discourse, instructing me by his deed in obedience.” So then, if you walk in the footsteps of his manner of life, both as a monk and as a stranger for the sake of virtue, lay aside all contentiousness. The same man also related this to me: that one day, as I was anxious about the life of Julian, the wretched emperor, as he was a persecutor, and as I was distressed, it happened once that until late evening I had tasted nothing because of this anxiety; and as I was sitting on my throne I was overcome by sleep, and I saw in an ecstasy white horses running past with riders on them, and they were crying out, “Tell Didymus that today at the seventh hour Julian died. Rise up, therefore, and eat, and send word to the bishop Athanasius at his house, so that he too may know about this.” “And I noted down,” he says, “the hour, and the day, and the week, and the month; and it was found to be so.”

CHAPTER V. Concerning Alexandra.

She used to say concerning this woman, the thrice-blessed Melania the Roman (concerning whom I shall relate, in the proper time and place, the things pertaining to her), that: “Face to face, they say, I was not able to see this blessed woman, but standing by the opening I entreated her to tell me the reason for which she withdrew from the city ^D and enclosed herself in the tomb.” And she spoke to me through the opening, saying that: “Someone became harmed in his mind regarding me, and so that I might not appear to grieve him, or to slander him, I chose to bring myself alive into this tomb rather than to cause someone to stumble who was made according to the image of God.” And upon my saying to her, “How do you endure, servant of Christ, encountering absolutely no one, but struggling alone with acedia and your thoughts?” she answered: “From morning until the ninth hour I pray, spinning flax by the hour; and the remaining hours I go over in my mind the faith of the holy Fathers and patriarchs, and ^A the struggles of the blessed apostles, and of the prophets, and of the martyrs. And the evening having arrived, after having glorified my Lord, I eat my bread, continuing through all the hours of the night in my prayer, and awaiting my end, when I shall depart from here with good hopes, and I shall be seen by the face of Christ.”

I shall not fail in the history to also include those who lived in contempt while in the guise of godliness, for the praise of those who have attained virtue, and for the security and protection of those who encounter them.

CHAPTER VI. Concerning the avaricious virgin.

This virgin, who possessed the title by name alone, but was alienated from the manners of asceticism—the most holy Macarius the priest, who was the leader of the poor who were mutilated, wishing to perform a bloodletting for the alleviation of her greed, devised such a drama. For he was in his youth a stone-worker, whom they call a lapidary. And having gone, he says to her: “Necessary stones, emeralds and hyacinths, have fallen to me; and whether they are stolen or commercial, I cannot say. They are not subject to a price, being beyond all valuation.” And the one who possesses them sells them for five hundred coins.

If, then, it seems good to you to take them, give the five hundred coins; but use the rest to adorn your niece with varied finery. The maiden, being completely enthralled by the girl’s love of finery, falls at his feet and says to him, “I beg you, let no one else take them.” The holy man therefore spurs her on, saying, “Come over to my house and see them.” She did not hesitate, but cast the five hundred coins before him, saying, “I beg you, take them as you wish. For I do not want to see the man who is selling them.” Having received the five hundred coins from her, the holy Macarius gives them for the needs of the poorhouse. Time passed, and since the man possessed a great reputation in Alexandria, being a most God-loving and merciful elder (for he flourished up to the age of one hundred, and we also lived at the same time as him), he was hesitant to remind her. Finally, finding him in the church, she says to him, “I beg you, what do you say about those stones for which we gave the five hundred coins?” He answered, saying to her, “From the day you gave me the gold, I paid it as the price for the stones. And if you wish to see them, come to my hospice; for the stones lie there, and see if they please you; if not, you may take back your gold.” She came most gladly. The poorhouse had the women in the upper rooms, and the men in the lower rooms. Upon her arrival, he leads her to the gate and asks her, “What do you wish to see first? The hyacinths or the emeralds?” She says to him, “Whichever seems best to you.” But when he leads her up to the upper rooms and shows her the mutilated women with withered faces, he says to her, “Behold the hyacinths.” Then he leads her down to the lower rooms and shows her the men, saying, “Behold the emeralds. I believe that no more precious ones than these can be found. If, therefore, they please you, take back your gold.” These things having thus taken place, the maiden, abashed, went out, and returning to her own house she fell ill from great grief, because she had not performed this act according to God, but under compulsion. Later, however, she gave thanks to the elder; the girl for whom she cared dying unmarried, she finally used her life for a necessary purpose.

Chapter VII. Regarding those in Nitria.

Having met with many of the saints, and having spent three years in the monasteries around Alexandria, and having lived with the most beautiful and zealous great men—some two thousand of them—adorned with every virtue, I withdrew from there and came to the Mount of Nitria. Between this mountain and Alexandria lies a lake called Maria. It extends for seventy miles. Having sailed across it, in one and a half days I came to the mountain on the southern side. ^A On this mountain dwell about five thousand men, who have diverse modes of life, each as he is able and as he wishes; so that it is permissible to live alone, or with another, or with a multitude. On this mountain there are seven bakeries, serving both those men and the anchorites who have retreated into the great desert, who number six hundred. Having lived on this mountain for a whole year, and having been greatly benefited by the blessed and holy Fathers—Arsisios the Great, and Poutoubastos, and Hagion, and Chronios, and Serapion—and being encouraged by them with many stories of the older spiritual Fathers, I came to the desert that is further in. ^B In this mountain of Nitria there is one very large church. In this church stand three palm trees, each having a whip hanging upon it. And the one is for the correction of the monks who have sinned; the second is for the punishment of robbers, should they ever happen to fall into their hands; and the third is for the correction of those who happen to be there and have fallen into any sort of error; so that all those who sin, and are convicted, and are liable for stripes, embrace the palm tree and, having received the appointed amount upon their back, are thus released. Attached to the church is a guesthouse, to which guests who come are welcomed for the whole duration, even if they wish to stay for two or three years, until they voluntarily wish to depart, letting them spend one week in leisure; for the remaining days they involve them in work, either in the garden, or in the bakery, or in the kitchen. But if one should be a man of standing, they give him a book to read, not allowing him to meet with anyone until the sixth hour. ^C In this mountain there also dwell doctors and pastry chefs. They also use wine, and wine is sold there. All these people work linen with their own hands, so that they are all self-sufficient. And as evening falls, it is possible to stand and hear from each cell hymns and psalms being sung to Christ, and prayers being sent up to the heavens, so that one might think he had been transported and relocated into the paradise of delight. They only frequent the church on Saturday and Sunday. There are eight priests who are in charge of this church; ^D while the first priest lives, not one of the others offers [the Eucharist], nor judges, nor speaks, but they only sit with him in silence.

Regarding Arsisios. This great Arsisios, and many other elders among the saints who were with him, whom we have seen, were contemporaries of the blessed Antony. Among whom this great Arsisios himself used to relate that he knew Amoun the Nitriote, whose soul the great Antony saw being taken up by angels and led into the heavens. He also said that he knew Pachomius, the Tabennesiote, a man who possessed the prophetic gift, having become the archimandrite of three thousand men, about whom I shall relate the virtues later.

of emeralds and hyacinths; and I do not know whether they are stolen or belong to some merchant. For no price is set upon them, since they exceed estimation; but whoever has one sells them for five hundred solidi. If, therefore, it seems best to you to receive them, give me five hundred solidi; you may receive five hundred from one gem, and use the rest to adorn the world of your niece." But since she who was called a virgin hungered completely after the girl, she was ensnared by the desire to adorn her; and she fell at his feet and said: "I beg you, let no one else receive them." The saint therefore exhorted her, saying, "Come as far as my house, and see them." But she would not; instead, she offered him five hundred solidi, saying, "I beg you, take them yourself as you wish; for I do not want to see the man who sells them." ^B When Saint Macarius had received the five hundred solidi from her, he gave them for the use of the hostel. When a long time had passed, because that man was held in great esteem by the Alexandrians, being supremely pious and merciful (he lived to be a hundred years old, in whose time we also were), he was afraid to admonish him. At length, when he found him in the church, he said to him: "I beg you, what do you command regarding the stones for which we gave five hundred solidi?" He answered him, saying: "From the day you gave me the gold, I spent it on the price of the gems, and if you wish to see them, come to my hostel. For there the gems are placed, so go and see; but if they do not please you, take back your gold." She came then most willingly. He had a hostel for women in the upper part, and for men in the lower part. When she had approached, he led her into the vestibule, and ^C Saint Macarius said to her: "What do you wish to see first, the hyacinths or the emeralds?" She said to him: "Whichever you think best." He led her to the upper part and showed her women with mangled limbs and faces entirely marred by various diseases, and said to her: "Behold the hyacinths." Then he led her to the lower part and showed her the men, saying: "Behold the emeralds; and I think that more precious than these cannot be found; but if they do not please you, take back your gold." Things having been thus done, the virgin, overcome with shame, went out, and returning home, received great sorrow that she had not done this work out of devotion to God, but had been driven by necessity. Afterwards, however, she gave thanks to the priest, when the girl she was caring for had died after her marriage without children, and she thereafter spent her wealth for righteous purposes.

CHAPTER VII. The life of Abbot Arsisius and those who were with him on Mount Nitria.

When I had met with many saints, and had spent three years in the monasteries that are around Alexandria, and had stayed with about two thousand great and most studious and excellent men, adorned with every virtue, I departed from there and came to the Mount of Nitria. Now between this mountain and Alexandria there lies a lake, which is called Maria; it extends to seventy miles. When I had crossed it, in a day and a half I came to the mountain toward the southern ^D part. In this mountain is situated a vast wilderness, which reaches as far as Ethiopia, the Mazices, and Mauritania. In it dwell about five thousand men, who use various ways of life, each one as he can and will, so that it is permitted to live alone, or with two, or three, or in whatever number one wishes. On this mountain are seven mills, which serve them and the anchorites who are in the vast wilderness—perfect men, six hundred in number. When, therefore, I had lived for a whole year on the mountain among the blessed and holy Fathers, the great Arsisius and Putuphastus, and Hagios, and Cronius, and Serapion, and had been spurred on by many spiritual narratives of the older Fathers themselves, I came into the inner wilderness. In this Mount of Nitria there is one very large church, and in this church are three palm trees, from each of which hangs a scourge. And one is for punishing the monks who commit faults; the second for punishing thieves, if they should happen to arrive; the third is for correcting those who perhaps come and fall into some sin; so that whoever commits a fault, and is convinced that they have deserved to suffer punishment, embrace the palm, and receive their appointed lashes on their backs, and are thus dismissed. Near the church there is situated a hostel/guesthouse, in which they receive a guest who comes for as long a time as he wishes, even if he wants to stay for two or three years, until he wishes to depart of his own accord, allowing him to remain in leisure for one week. On the other days, they afterwards occupy him with work, either in the garden, or at the mill, or in the kitchen. But if there should be anyone for whom provision should be made, they give him a book to read, not allowing him to speak with anyone until the sixth hour. In this mountain there dwell also doctors and bakers. They also use wine, and wine is sold there. But all these men make linen garments with their own hands, so that they are all in no way needy. Around the ninth hour, it is permitted to stand and hear in each monastic cell hymns and psalms being sung to Christ, and prayers being offered to the hymns, so that one would think that he had been raised on high and had crossed over into a paradise of delights; but they come to the church only on the Sabbath and on Sunday. There are eight priests who preside over this church, in which, as long as the first priest of this church lives, no other offers, nor judges, nor has a sermon, but they sit silently with him alone.

This great Arsisius, and many other elders with him, whom we saw, were equal in time to the great Antony. And indeed this great Arsisius told me that he had also seen Amon the Nitriote, whose soul Antony saw taken up by angels and brought into heaven (Vita Antonii, c. 32; Ruff., l. II, c. 30). He said that he had also seen Pachomius the Tabennesiote, a man famous for prophetic grace, archimandrite of three thousand men; whose virtues I will recount later (Infra, c. 38).

CHAPTER VIII. On Saint Amon and his spouse

Amon, it is said, used to tell the story of his life in this way: When he was a young man, orphaned of his parents at about twenty-two years of age, he was joined in marriage to a woman by the force of his uncle; and since he could not resist the necessity which his uncle brought upon him, it seemed best to him—so he said—to accept the crown and sit in the bridal chamber, and to endure all that occurs in marriage. But after everyone had left, having placed the couple to sleep in the bed, the blessed Amon arose and locked the doors; and sitting down, he called his blessed and noble wife and said to her: "Come here, lady and sister, and I will relate a matter to you. This marriage by which we have been joined has nothing of excellence in it. Therefore, we will do rightly if, from here on, each of us sleeps separately, so that we may please Christ, rendering our virginity intact." And when he had drawn a small book from his bosom, as if speaking in the person of the Apostle and Savior, he read a great part of the passage to the girl, who was ignorant of letters, adding from his own divinely inspired teaching, and instructing her in life, in virginity, and in living in chastity. From which it came to pass that she, filled with the grace of Christ, said: "I too, my master, am persuaded that I prefer to live a chaste life; and if you command anything, I shall do it henceforth." "But I," he replied, "command and ask that each of us remain separately." She, however, could not endure this, saying: "Let us remain in the same house, but in separate beds." Living, therefore, with her for eighteen years in the same dwelling, he occupied his entire day with the garden and the balsam grove. For he cultivated balsam, which is planted like a vine, so that much labor is put into cultivating and pruning it. Therefore, returning home in the evening and saying prayers, he would eat with her. And again, pouring out nocturnal prayers and performing the synaxis, he would go out to the garden at daybreak. When these things were done in this way, and both had arrived at the state of freedom from passions, the prayers of Amon began to have power and efficacy. ^B Finally, that blessed woman said to him: "There is something I wish to tell you, my master, that if you hear me, it will be clearly established for me that you truly love me from God." He said to her: "Say what you wish." She said to him: "It is right that you, who are a pious and religious man and practice justice, and likewise I who have followed the same way I have been taught, should remain separately, and many will receive benefit from it. For it is not equal that because of me, such great and such a virtue of your philosophy should be hidden, as you live together with me in chastity for the sake of Christ." When he had given thanks to her and had given glory to God, he said to her: "It has seemed right to you, lady and sister; and if this pleases you, you keep this house, and I will go away and build another house for myself." When he had gone out from her, he entered into the inner parts of the Mount of Nitria; for at that time there were not yet frequent monasteries there, and he made for himself two vaults of cells. And when he had lived for another twenty-two years, and had duly exercised the virtue of asceticism, he died in the monastic life, or rather, the holy Amon was translated, born sixty-two years before, twice a year seeing the blessed sharer of his life.

When he was alone in Nitria, they say that a boy came to him, tormented by madness and bound in chains. For a rabid dog, by biting him, had given him the rabies. He was therefore tearing himself apart completely, as one who could not bear the intolerable disease. When he saw his parents coming to supplicate him, he said: "Why do you bring me labors, O men, asking for things that surpass my merits, when in your own hands help is at hand? Return to the widow the ox which you secretly killed, and the boy will be restored to you sound." When they were convicted, they gladly did what had been commanded, and as he prayed, the boy went away healed.

Moreover, others approached for the sake of visiting him. To whom the holy man said, for the sake of testing their minds: "Bring me one jar, so that I may have enough water for those who come to be received." They promised that they would bring it. But when one of them had second thoughts, once he had reached the village, he said to the other: "I do not want to kill the camel, nor place the jar upon it, lest it die." Hearing this, another, having joined his own donkeys, carried the jar up with great labor. Preceding him, Amon said to him: "What? Is it that your companion's camel has died in the meantime while you were coming here?" And he, having returned, found it devoured by wolves. This man also did many other things.

But this miracle was recounted by the blessed Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, writing in the *Life of Antony*, that when at one time monks had been sent to him by Antony (for Antony was in the inner wilderness), when they had come to him, the old man rose and walked with them. And when he was about to cross the Lycus river with his disciple Theodore, he was afraid to undress, lest he should ever see himself naked: and meanwhile, as he debated that matter, he was found across the river, as one who had crossed without a boat in an ecstasy, translated by an angel; the brothers, however, crossed by swimming. But after he approached Antony, Antony was the first to say to him: "Since God had revealed many things to me about you, and had signified your translation to me, I summoned you to me necessarily, so that when it was possible for us to enjoy one another, we might intercede for one another." When he had placed him in a certain place far apart, he exhorted him not to depart before the translation. When he had been perfected by himself apart, Antony saw his soul taken up to heaven by the angels. This is, therefore, Amon, who lived thus, and died thus. This Lycus river I myself once crossed with fear on a ferry; for it is a trench and a canal of the great Nile.

CHAPTER IX. Life of Abbot Or

In this mount of Nitria there was an admirable abbas, Or by name, having monasteries of a thousand brothers, endowed with an angelic habit (Ruff., l. II, c. 2); as one who, when he was ninety years old, had lost nothing of his bodily vigor,

radiant and bright ^A in appearance.

CAPUT VIII: The Life of Saint Amun and his wife.

^A Having remained alone in the Nitrias, they brought to him a boy raging with madness, bound in chains; for a mad dog having bitten him, it had passed the madness on to him. He was tearing himself all over, having an unbearable affliction. When, therefore, he saw his parents coming for supplication, he said, "Why do you bring me labors, O men, seeking things beyond my worth, having the remedy in your hands? Restore to the widow the ox which you secretly killed, and the boy will be restored to you healthy." And they, when they were convicted, were doing joyfully what was commanded, the boy having been healed when he prayed for him. Others reached him for a visit, to whom, testing their mind, the man said: "Bring me one jar, that I may have enough water for the reception of those who come." They promised to bring it through one of their own. But the other, having repented when he reached the village, said to the other, "I will not kill my camel, nor place the jar upon it, so that it may not die." Having heard these things, the other, having yoked his own donkeys, brought the jar with much labor. But Amun, having forestalled him, said, "Why is your companion's camel dead by the time you arrived here?" And the other, having returned, found it eaten by wolves. And many other things the man accomplished.

^C A miracle of this one was related by the blessed Athanasius the bishop of Alexandria, having written in the life concerning Antony, that once when monks had been sent by Antony to him, they were calling for him. For Antony was in the inner desert. But as they were going to him, the elder rose up and accompanied them; because when he was about to pass the Lycus river ever so often with Theodorus his disciple, he was shy to undress, so that he might never see himself naked. And while he was crossing to the other side, he was found on the far side of the river, having passed as in an ecstasy without a ferry, carried by angels. The brothers crossed by swimming. As he arrived at Antony, Antony first said to him: "God having revealed many things to me concerning you, and having made known to me your departure, I necessarily called you to myself, so that, having enjoyed one another, we might intercede for one another." Having appointed him in a certain place separatedfar away, he urged him not to depart from there until his departure. And when he had finished his life in solitude, Antony saw his soul being taken up into heaven by angels. This is Amun, who lived thus, and died thus, so that the blessed Antony saw his soul being led up by angels into heaven. I myself crossed this Lycus river with fear in a ferry before. For it is a canal of the great Nile.

CAPUT IX: The Life of Abbot Or.

^A and his garments hidden away, having exposed him before all, brought the items into the midst, so that no one dared any longer to lie in his presence, he having such great grace of virtue, which he had gathered for himself through his many and noble practices. It was something to see the multitude of the monks with him in the church, like choirs of angels singing hymns to God. For all the brotherhood bore witness to his great virtue, but especially the woman of God, Melania, who had entered this mountain before me. For I did not meet him while he was alive. These, then, were the feats of the man that were recounted in the narratives: that he neither ever lied, nor swore, nor cursed anyone, nor did he ever speak anything outside of necessity.

Chapter X. Concerning Pambo

An inhabitant of this same mountain was the blessed Pambo, teacher of Dioscorus the bishop, and of Ammonius, and Eusebius, and Euthymius, the brothers, and of Origen, the nephew of Dracontius, a noble and admirable man. This Pambo had many and great feats and very many and varied excellences; among which this was also his advantage in his great accomplishments: he was as much a despiser of gold and silver as the Master's Word demanded. Concerning which the blessed Melania relates to me: "When I was first arriving in Alexandria from Rome, and having heard about his virtue from the blessed Isidore the priest and host of strangers who recounted it to me, and who guided me toward him into the desert, I brought to him a silver plate of three hundred pounds of silver, imploring him to participate in my possessions." He, she says, sitting and plaiting palm leaves, blessed me with only a voice, saying, "May God give you the reward." And he says to his steward, Origen, "Receive these and dispense them to all the brothers throughout Libya and those in the islands; for these monasteries are in greater need than the others," ordering him not to give any of that money to those in Egypt, because the land was more prosperous. "But I," she says, "stood waiting to be honored by him with blessings, or even to be praised in speech for such a large gift. And having heard nothing at all from him, I said to him, 'Lord, so that you may see how much it is, it is three hundred pounds of silver.' But he, again, not even glancing up at this, nor paying attention to the vessel of the case, answered me, 'You have brought it, child; the One who needs to learn the quantity of the weight from you does not exist. For He who weighed the mountains and set the valleys with a balance knows the quantity of the silver far better. For if you were giving it to me, you would rightly tell me the weight; but if you have brought these to God, who did not overlook even the two lepta, but honored these more than all, be silent, keep quiet.'" "Thus, then," she says, "did the grace of the Lord manage it upon my entering into the mountain." After a short time, the man of God fell asleep, not having been ill, not having suffered any pain in the limbs of his body, but while stitching a basket he sent for me, and

for he was of a bright and cheerful countenance, such that when he was merely seen, he was a man to be revered. When he had long exercised himself in the further desert, he afterwards gathered monasteries in the nearer desert, plants set by his own hands, since there was no timber in that place, to the point that there was a dense forest in the wilderness. For the Fathers who were with him told us that not even a sprout existed there when that man came from the desert. He planted it himself, so that the brothers who gathered to him would not be forced to wander about for necessary items; rather, he cared for them all, praying to God and contending for their salvation, that no necessary thing might be lacking to them, and that there might be no pretext for sloth. While living in the desert at first, he fed on herbs and sweet roots; he also drank water when he found it, persevering all the while in prayers and hymns. ^B After he had reached the perfect age of old age, an angel appeared to him in a dream, saying into the desert: "You shall be into a great nation, and a great people shall be believed of your faith. And those who will be saved through you will be ten thousand: those whom you gain here will obey you in the world to come. And do not doubt anything," the Angel said to him, "for nothing of those things which are necessary for use will be lacking to you until your death, as often as you invoke God." Having heard this, he came to the nearby desert, living first in separation, having constructed a small hut for himself, content only with cultivated vegetables; often he even ate only once a week. And he was indeed illiterate at first; but after he came from the desert into the inhabited land, grace was given to him from God, and he would recite the Scriptures from memory. For after a book was given to him by the brothers, he read thereafter as if he were skilled in letters. He had also received another grace, namely that of expelling demons, so that many of those who were suffering, even against his will, would cry out and make his life manifest. He did not cease to perform other cures as well. The result of this was that three thousand monks gathered to him. When that man saw them, he was filled with joy, greeted them, and embraced them. When he had washed their feet with his own hands, he turned to teaching; for he was very skilled in letters, as one who had received this grace from God. But when he had expounded many chapters of the Scriptures and had handed down the orthodox faith, he exhorted them to prayer. For it is the custom for great men to admit nothing of the flesh before they have provided spiritual food for the soul; this is the communion of Christ. When, therefore, they had been participants ^C and had given thanks, he exhorted them to the meal, himself always admonishing them while they were sitting of those things which are good and honorable, and telling them those things which pertain to salvation. This man was therefore celebrated among many Fathers, so that when many monks came to him, he would summon all the present brothers and in one day would make cells for them: one providing the mud, another the brick, and another drawing the water. But when the cells were finished, he himself provided for those coming what was necessary. A certain false brother, who had come to him on one occasion, had hidden his clothing after he had rebuked him before everyone. The result of this was that no one dared thereafter to lie in his presence, since he possessed such grace, which he had gathered for himself through his honest life. However, it was possible to see the multitude of those monks who were with him in the church, like angelic choirs praising God. The entire fraternity bore witness to the virtue of this holy man; especially the handmaid of God, Melania, who had entered this mountain before me. For I did not meet him while he was alive. But she used to tell these remarkable things about this man: that he never lied, never swore, never cursed anyone, and never spoke unless it was necessary.

Chapter X. Life of Abbot Pambo.

The dweller of this mountain was also the abbot Pambo, who was the master of Dioscorus the bishop, of Ammonius, Eusebius, and Euthymius, who were brothers, and of Origen, the son of the brother of Dracontius, an illustrious and admirable man. This Pambo had many and varied privileges: but among other things which were rightly and virtuously performed by him, he possessed this, in which he was superior to the rest, that he despised gold and silver, as much as divine reason demands. Whence the blessed Melania related to me that when she had come from Rome to Alexandria at the beginning, and had heard of his virtue from the blessed Isidore the priest and host of the xenodochium, who related the account to me, she was led by him into the desert. To him, she said, I brought silver vessels weighing three hundred pounds of silver, asking him to be a participant in my goods. But he, she said, working and weaving palm branches, blessed me, saying in a loud voice: "May God give you the reward." And he said to his steward Origen [Al., Theodore]: "Take it and distribute it to the entire fraternity that is in Libya and in the islands. For these monasteries are more in need." And he commanded him to give nothing of it to those who were in Egypt, for the reason that it is a region richer and more abundant. I, however, she said, stood and was waiting to be honored by him either with a blessing or at least with a word of praise for such a great gift. But when I heard absolutely nothing from him, I said to him: "Master, so that you may know how much it is, it is three hundred pounds of silver." He, however, when he had not even nodded at this, nor had he even looked at the chest of vessels, answered: "He to whom you brought these, O daughter, has no need for you to teach him the quantity of the weight. For He who weighed the mountains and the forests with a balance (Isa. XL, 12), knows much better the quantity of your silver. For if you had given these to me, you would have rightly stated the weight to me; but if you have offered them to God, who did not despise even the two mites (27), but valued them more than everything (Mark XII, 42), be silent." Thus, therefore, she said, the grace of the Lord dispensed it, while I entered into this mountain. But a short time later the man of God fell asleep, neither sick nor feeling pain in any part of his body, but while weaving a basket he sent for me, and when he was already present in his final—

[This is the beginning of the text.]

stimulus, says to me: Take this basket from my hands, that you may remember me; for I have nothing else to leave to you. And when he had said this, he passed away without fever, being seventy years old, commending his spirit to the Lord. After I had cared for him, and wrapped his holy body in linens and laid it to rest, I withdrew from the solitude, carrying that basket with me until the day of my death. This Pambo, as he was about to die, at the very hour of his departure, is said to have spoken thus to Origen the priest and steward, and to the illustrious Ammonius, and the rest of the brethren who were standing around him: "From the time I came to this place of solitude, and built my cell, and dwelt here, there has not been a day when I have not done some work with my own hands; nor do I remember that I have eaten bread given to me by anyone for nothing; nor to this hour do I regret any word that I have spoken." And so he departs to God, as one who has not even begun to be religious and devout.

The servants of Christ, Origen and Ammonius, bore this testimony about him: that whenever he was asked regarding anything pertaining to Scripture, or to any action or business, he would not answer immediately, but would say: "I have not yet found what I should answer." Oftentimes three months would pass, and he would give no answer, saying: "I have not yet grasped it." So considerately indeed did he give answers from God, that all received them from God with every fear. For it was said that he had exercised this virtue even above the great Antony, and above all the saints, namely, that he was accurate and perfect in his speech.

CHAPTER XI. Life of Abbot Pior.

It is reported also, besides other things, this action of the holy Pambo: that Pior, who was exercising himself in the monastic life, once coming to his cell, brought his own bread. When Pambo had reproved him, saying, "Why did you do this?" Pior replied, "So that I might not be a burden to you." And so he dismissed him in silence. But after some time, the great Pambo, coming to the cell of Pior, brought his own bread with him, soaked in water. When asked by him for what reason he had brought soaked bread, Pambo replied: "I soaked it for this reason, that I also might not be a burden to you."

Chapter XII: The life of Abbot Ammonius and the brothers together with the sisters.

Ammonius, who was a disciple of the great Pambo, together with three brothers and two sisters, when they had reached the height of piety and religion, came into the solitude and made separate monasteries, one for men and one for women, in such a way that a sufficiently great space intervened between them. But since this best of men, Ammonius, was notably learned, a certain city desired to have him as bishop. When they had approached the blessed Bishop Timothy, they asked him to ordain Ammonius as their bishop. He, however, said: "Bring him to me, and I will ordain him for you." When therefore they had gone with a great force to seize him, he turned to flight. But when he saw that he was already caught, he stood and entreated them. When they would not obey, the old man swore that he would not undertake the office, nor ^A be able to depart from the solitude. But when they would not yield, having snatched up a pair of shears, he cut off his left ear to the very bottom, saying to them: "Now understand that it is impossible for me to become what you are compelling me to be, since the law forbids that anyone whose ears are amputated should be promoted to the priesthood." When they had thus let him go, they left; and coming to the bishop, they reported these things to him. He, however, says to them: "Let this law be in use among the Jews. For me, if you had brought even one who was cut off at the nose, if he were of good character, I would ordain him." Going therefore, they asked him again. But since he himself did not obey, they attempted to bring him by force. He, however, swore to them, saying: "If you compel me, I will even cut off my tongue." And so, after he was dismissed, they left. Of this Ammonius, this miracle is reported. They say that never, if at any time the insurrection of carnal lust invaded his body, did he spare his body; but he would apply red-hot iron to his limbs, so that he was entirely covered in sores. His diet, moreover, from his youth until his death was such that he ate only raw food; for he never ate anything that had been brought to the fire, except bread. He knew the Old and New Testaments by memory; and he was so well versed in the writings of the learned men Origen, Didymus, Pierius, and Stephen, that he had perused six hundred thousand lines, as the great Fathers in the solitude also bear witness concerning him. His prophecies are also reported. And he was of such avail in comforting the brethren who were in the solitude, as no one else was. Evagrius, who was endowed with the power of discernment, attributed this to him by his own testimony: that he had seen no man who was more ^B dispassionate and alien from all perturbations of the soul.

^C [This same most holy man, when he had been asked by many-fold entreaty by Rufinus, the praetorian prefect of that time, that when the great Ammonius came to Constantinople for the necessary business of the desert, he himself also might deign to come—since the holy bishops of various provinces and very many other hermits (who had gathered for the dedication of the basilica which he himself had founded) were vehemently praying for it—received the aforementioned Rufinus with his own hands, cleansed in the sacred font. He revered him greatly for the merit of his conversation, desiring to obey the holy Ammonius in all things; who shortly after fell asleep in the Lord, and was buried in the basilica which is called Ruffiniana; in whose sepulchre it is reported that all who suffer from various fevers are cured. From Heraclides, cap. 2.]

CHAPTER XIII. Life of Abbot Benjamin.

In this Mount Nitria there was an admirable man, who was called Benjamin, who lived his life rightly and with virtue for eighty years. Since he had exercised virtue to the highest degree, he was deemed worthy of the grace of healings, so that whosoever he had laid his hands upon, or to whom he had given oil that he had blessed, that person laboring under any sickness would be freed. He who had been deemed worthy of such great grace, eight months before his death was dropsical, and his body swelled to such a degree that, on account of his pains, he was found to be another Job of our time. When we therefore had been assumed by Bishop Dioscorus, who was then a priest...

^A when the last stitch was about to be finished, he said to me: "Receive this basket from my hands, that you may remember me, for I have nothing else to leave you." He passed away without fever at the age of seventy, having commended his spirit to the Lord. After I had prepared him for burial, wrapped the body of the holy man in linens, and laid him to rest, I departed from the desert, keeping that basket with me until the day of my death. This Pambo, when he was about to die, at that very hour of his passing, is said to have spoken thus to the presbyter Origen and the steward Ammonius, men of great renown, while they were standing by: "From the time I came to this place in the desert, and built my cell, and lived here, I have not spent a single day without the labor of my own hands, nor do I remember that I have eaten bread received as a gift from anyone; nor do I regret, up to this present hour, the words I have spoken. And thus I go to God as one who has not even begun to revere Him." The servants of Christ, Origen and Ammonius, bore witness to him, telling us that whenever he was asked a question by anyone, whether on Scripture or on any other practical matter, he would not answer immediately, but would say that he had not yet found the answer. ^B Often he would let even three months pass before giving an answer, saying that he had not yet grasped it. Yet, he offered his judgments with such careful regard for God, that all accepted them with full reverence, as if they came from God Himself. For it was said that in this virtue, even more than the great Antony, and more than all the holy men, he possessed precision in his words.

CAP. XI. On Pior.

Among other things, this deed of the holy Pambo is also recounted: that the blessed Pior, the ascetic, once visiting his cell, brought his own bread. Being rebuked by him, "For what reason have you done this?" Pior replied, "So that I might not be a burden to you," and having kept silence, he departed. After some time, the great Pambo visited the cell of Pior; and having soaked his bread, he brought it thus. When asked by him for what reason he had brought it soaked, Pambo replied, "So that I might not be a burden to you, I soaked it."

CAP. XII. On Ammonius.

This Ammonius, having been a disciple of the great Pambo, along with three other brothers and two sisters, reached the height of the love of God and took possession of the desert. They established both monasteries separately, one for men and one for women, at a sufficient distance from each other to prevent meeting. Since this excellent man, Ammonius, was exceedingly fond of learning, a certain city fell in love with him for the office of bishop. And they approached the blessed bishop Timothy, beseeching him to ordain Ammonius as their bishop. ^C He said to them, "Bring him to me, and I will ordain him for you." When they went with much help to seize him, he turned to flight. Seeing that he had finally been caught, he stood and entreated them. As they would not be persuaded, he swore that he would not accept the matter, nor could he leave the desert. When they would not yield to him, as all were watching, he snatched up a pair of shears and cut off his own left ear down to the root, saying to them, "From now on, be convinced that it is impossible for me to become what you force upon me, since the law forbids any man with a mutilated ear from being ordained to the priesthood." Thus, leaving him, they departed and, returning, reported these things to the bishop. But he said to them, "Let this law be practiced among the Jews; as for me, even if you bring me a man with a mutilated nose, provided he is worthy in his manner of life, I will ordain him." Going back, therefore, they again entreated him. But as the holy man would not be persuaded, they attempted to use force upon him. ^D He swore to them, saying, "If you force me, I will cut out my own tongue." At this, they left him and departed.

Of this holy Ammonius, this miracle is told: it is said that never, when an improper pleasure rose up in his body, did he spare his flesh; but having heated iron, he would apply it to his limbs, so that he was always covered with wounds. His manner of eating, however, remained from youth until death one of eating raw food. For he never ate anything that had passed through fire, except bread. He committed the Old and New Testament to memory, and passed through tens of thousands of lines in the writings of eminent men such as Origen, Didymus, Pierius, and Stephen. The great Fathers of the desert bear witness to him in this. Prophecies of his are also in circulation. And he was as comforting as any other to the brothers in the desert. The blessed Evagrius, a man filled with the Spirit and full of discernment, gave his vote to him, saying that he had never seen a man more passionless than he. This blessed man, having been persuaded by many entreaties from Rufinus, the Praetorian Prefect of that time, who had come to Constantinople to request the presence of the great Ammonius for the needs of the citizens of the desert, and being sufficiently entreated by the holy bishops who had come together from various provinces and from the desert itself for the dedication of the holy martyr-shrine which he himself had built, in those very vaults received Rufinus, whom the holy man, having been baptized with an undefiled baptism by the bishops, honored as was worthy of his way of life, obeying the holy man Ammonius in all things. After a short time, he fell asleep and was buried in the martyr-shrine called the Rufinianae. Its tomb is said to heal all who suffer from agues.

CAP. XIII. On Benjamin.

In this mount of Nitria there lived a wonderful man named Benjamin, who lived a virtuous life for eighty years. Having practiced virtue to an extreme degree, he was deemed worthy of the gift of healings, so that upon whomever he laid his hands, or to whom he gave oil that he had blessed, the sufferer was delivered from every infirmity. This man, who was deemed worthy of such a great gift, eight months before his falling asleep, became dropsical. And his body was so swollen by the swelling, that he was found to be another Job in his pains in our times. Therefore, having taken us...

he says to us: "Come, see a new Job, in such a mass of body, with an incurable malady, possessing measureless thanksgiving." Having gone, therefore, we beheld such a mass of his body that it was impossible to encompass his little finger with both hands. And being unable to gaze upon the severity of the affliction, we turned our eyes away from it. Then that blessed Benjamin says to us: "Pray, children, that my inner man may not become dropsical. For this body neither profited me when I was in good health, nor did it harm me when I was in poor health." For those eight months, a very wide chair was provided for him, upon which he sat incessantly, no longer being able to lie upon a bed because of the other needs of the body. And while in this incurable malady, he was healing others who were ^B held by any sickness whatsoever. I considered it necessary, therefore, to explain the suffering of this holy man, so that we may not be astonished when some hardship happens to righteous men. And when that noble man had died, the floor-boards of the door and the door-posts were removed, so that the body might be carried out of the cell. Such was the mass of the body of the blessed and renowned Father Benjamin.

CAPUT XIV. Concerning Apollonius.

A certain Apollonius by name, from the merchants, renounced and lived on the mountain of Nitria; and, being able neither to learn a craft hereafter, nor having undertaken an ascetic study—for he had passed the age—having lived on the mountain for twenty years, he adopted this way of life: from his own money and his own labors, buying all sorts of medicinal supplies and provisions in Alexandria, he visited the entire brotherhood for their sicknesses. And one could see him, from the early morning until the ninth hour, going around the hermitages, and the monasteries, and all the huts that were there, entering from door to door and observing whether anyone was lying ill. He would carry raisins, pomegranates, eggs, and fine flour, of which the sick were in need, having found this way of life beneficial for himself, as a slave of Christ, until old age; and he who was about to die left his meager belongings to another like himself, having exhorted him to perform this ministry. For as five thousand monks inhabit that mountain, there is need also for such a visitation, because the place is a desert.

CAPUT XV, XVI. Concerning Paesius and Isaias.

Another pair, Paesius and Isaias by name, were brothers, sons of a merchant of Spandex. Upon their father dying, they divided the assets in movables, which they had in money, five thousand coins, and in garments and servants what was found. These two consulted together and, counseling themselves, said to one another: "On what kind of method of life shall we go, brother? If we go into the business that our father practiced, we too have to leave our labors to others. And perhaps we shall also fall into dangers, either by robbers or by sea. Come, therefore, brother, ^C let us go to the monastic life, so that we may gain both the things of our father, and not destroy our souls." The purpose of the monastic life, therefore, pleased both. They were found, then, differing one from the other. Having divided the money and all the remaining things, each held to the goal of pleasing God, but by way of a differing discipline. For the one, having scattered everything, gave it to hermitages, and churches, and prisons; and he learned a craft from which he might provide his bread, and he gave attention to asceticism and to prayer. The other, having scattered nothing of this, but having built for himself a monastery, and having taken on a few brothers, received every stranger with hospitality, healed every sick person, supported every old man, and provided to every poor man on Saturday and Sunday [lit. the Lord's Day]—at which time Dioscorus the Bishop (being then a presbyter of ^D the mountain of Nitria) used to provide for those remaining—three or four tables to those in need. In this way he consumed his own life. Both of them having died, various praises of each were spoken by the brothers, as both were found perfect in virtue. And to some, the life of the one who had abandoned everything at once was pleasing, but to others the life social toward all who are in need [was pleasing]. Contention having therefore arisen in the brotherhood regarding the different discipline of these blessed men, especially regarding the differing praises, they go to the blessed and holy Pambo, and submit to him the judgment regarding them, asking to learn from him the better discipline. And he says to them: "Both are perfect before the Lord. For the one fulfilled the work of Abraham by receiving everyone; the other displayed the unyielding zeal of the prophet Elias regarding the pleasing of God." And while some were saying, "We touch your feet; how is it possible for these to be equal?" preferring the ascetic, and saying that "this one has fulfilled the evangelical commandment, having sold all, and distributed it to the poor, and persevering in prayers, bearing the cross every day and hour and night, and following the Savior," and others in turn were contending for the other, that "He also, we beseech you, displayed such and such feelings toward all who were in need, so that he would even go out to the very highroads to sit and gather the afflicted and provide for them; and not only did he give rest to his own soul, but also to many others, nursing the sick and assisting," the blessed Pambo says to them: "I will tell you again: both are equal before the Lord; but I will assure each of you regarding them. This man, if he had not practiced with such severity, would not have been worthy to be compared to the goodness of our Savior. That man, in turn, giving rest to strangers and ministering to those in need, is shown, according to his ability, to be balanced with the Lord. For He himself says: 'I did not come to be ministered unto, but to minister.' Being a minister, he also, though he seems to possess the burden resulting from the labor, yet he also had the rest from these things. Wait a little, that I may receive from God the revelation regarding them; and after these things you, having come, shall learn." Leaving it for a few days, they came again, urging the great one regarding them. And the blessed one answered, saying to them that: "Before God I saw both standing together in the Paradise

of the mountain of Nitria, I say, and the blessed Evagrius, says to us: "Come, see a new Job, who in such great bodily sickness and such great swelling has immense patience with thanksgiving." Approaching, therefore, we saw such a mass of his body that we could not encompass his little finger with the fingers of our two hands. But because we could not gaze with fixed eyes upon the severity of the disease, we turned our eyes away. Then that blessed Benjamin said to us: "Pray, brothers, that my inner man may not be dropsical. For this body, neither when it was in good health did it profit me anything, nor when in bad, did it harm me." For those eight months, a very wide chair was made for him (35), in which he sat constantly, as he could not lie in a bed, because of what is necessary for the body. But while he labored under this incurable disease, he was of service to others who were seized by any kind of illness. Therefore, I deemed it necessary to explain the disease of this holy man, lest it seem strange to us if any accident should befall just men. Then, when that excellent man died, the threshold of the door and the posts were removed so that the body could be carried out from the cell. Such was the mass of the body of the blessed and renowned father Benjamin. ^B

CHAPTER XIV. The life of Apollonius (36) who was surnamed *apo pragmateutōn*, that is to say, from the traders.

A certain Apollonius by name, *apo pragmateutōn*, that is, from the traders, when he had renounced the world and had inhabited the mountain of Nitria—and he could learn neither a trade nor letters, because he was of advanced age—for the twenty years that he lived on the mountain, had this practice. Using his own money and his own labors to purchase all kinds of medical vessels ^C in Alexandria (37), he dispensed them to the entire brotherhood for their ailments: and it was permitted to see him from early light until the ninth hour, running about, visiting the monasteries, and entering the doorways, and seeing who might be lying sick. He carried dried grapes, pomegranates, eggs, fine bread, and whatever things the sick have need of. The servant of Christ found this way of life for himself until old age. When he was about to die, he left his simple possessions to another like himself, asking him to perform the same ministry. For since five thousand monks inhabit that mountain, such care is also necessary, because it is a desert place.

CHAPTERS XV AND XVI. The life of Paesius and Isaias (38).

Others, Paesius and Isaias by name, were brothers, with a Spanish merchant as a father (39). When their father was dead, they divided the possessions they had in movable goods: five thousand in coins, and whatever was found in clothes and servants. They deliberated among themselves and, counseling one another, said: "What path of life shall we enter upon, O brother? If we practice the commerce that our father practiced, we leave our labors to others, and perhaps we fall into the dangers of either robbers or the sea. Come ^D then, brother, let us begin the monastic life, that we may gain the wealth of our father and not lose our own souls." Both, therefore, were pleased with the goal of the solitary life, but they were found to differ from one another. For when they had divided the money and all the rest, they proposed to themselves this goal: to please God, but by a different institution of life. For one, scattering everything, gave to the monasteries, and to the churches, and to the guardians, and when he had learned a craft by which he could provide bread for himself, he devoted himself to discipline and prayer. The other, however, scattered nothing of his, but having made a monastery for himself, and having taken a few brothers, would receive any guest whatever, would care for any sick person whatever, would keep any old man whatever, and would give to any poor person whatever; on Sabbaths and Sundays, setting out three or four tables, he would receive those who were in need. In this way he spent his life. But when both had died, different blessings were given to each by the brothers, inasmuch as they were both found perfect in virtue: and to some, the life of him who had renounced everything was pleasing; to others, truly, that which he shared with all the needy. When, therefore, contention had arisen among the brothers on account of the different institution of life of these blessed ones, and especially on account of the different praises, they go to the blessed Pambo, and refer it to him so that he might respond about this matter, wishing to know which manner of life is better. But he says to them: "Both are perfect before God. The one, indeed, discharged the office of Abraham, who received everyone; the other, however, undertook the most firm and most constant zeal of the prophet Elias, that he might please God." And when some said to him: "How can it be, tell us, we beseech you, as we touch your feet (40), that these are equal?" And although others preferred the ascetic and said: "He fulfilled the evangelical precept, as one who sold all and gave to the poor, persevering night and day in prayers, carrying the cross, and following the Savior"; on the other hand, others contended for the other, saying: "This one, we beseech you, showed such and so many bowels of compassion toward all the needy, that he would go out and sit in the public roads, and gather those who were afflicted, and bring them help; and not only did he refresh his own soul, but also those of others, curing the sick and giving them assistance." And the blessed Pambo says: "Again I will tell you, both are equal before the Lord, but I will satisfy each one of you regarding them. If this one had not exercised himself to such a degree, he would not have been worthy for me to compare him to the goodness of the other. The other, again, who refreshed and fed guests, and ministered to the needy, was shown to the Lord as equal according to his strength. For He Himself said: 'I came not to be ministered unto, but to minister' (Matt. xx). This one, therefore, a minister, although he seemed to have a burden from his labor, nevertheless even from it also had refreshment. But wait a little, so that I may have a revelation from God about these also, and afterward you shall know when you come." After some days had passed, therefore, they returned, asking that Great One about these things. The elder answered them, saying: "Before God (41) I speak to you; I saw both standing together in paradise."

CHAPTER XVII. Life of Macarius the Younger (42).

A certain young man by age, named Macarius, eighteen years old, while playing with his peers at the lake which is called Maria, while pasturing sheep, committed an involuntary murder. Since he had told this to no one, he came into the desert and advanced into it out of fear of both God and men, so that he did not even realize that he had remained for three years without shelter in the desert. That land is arid, and this is known by all, as much by those who have heard of it by report as by those who know it from personal experience. This same Macarius later built a cell for himself, and since he lived in it for another twenty-five years, he was considered worthy of such grace that, taking delight in the solitude (43), he despised the demons. Having spent a long time in his company, I learned from him how his mind was affected by the sin of murder. He said, however, that it was so far from causing him grief that he even gave thanks for the crime of murder. For the involuntary murder was to me a cause of salvation. He used to say, bringing forth testimony from the Scriptures regarding murder, which was committed by the great servant of God, Moses, in Egypt, that if it were not for the murder and the fear of Pharaoh, Moses would not have been considered worthy of the vision of God, and of such a gift, and of the writing of the holy words by the Spirit. For when he had fled from Egypt, he arrived at Mount Sinai. I say these things not to clear a path to any murder, but rather to show that there are also virtues which arise from chance, when one does not want to approach the good of his own accord. For of virtues, some proceed from the will and from our own resolve, while others are born from chance.

CHAPTER XVIII. Vita abbatis Nathanael.

Among the ancient saints there was another, a most excellent athlete of Christ, named Nathanael. I did not meet him in the flesh, for he had fallen asleep fifteen years before my arrival at the mountain. But when I had encountered those who had practiced asceticism with this saint, and had been his contemporaries, I gladly questioned them regarding the virtue of the man. They showed me his cell, in which no one dwells to this day, because it is closer to the inhabited land. For that blessed man founded it at a time when anchorites were rare. They told me of his remarkable exercise; namely, ^D that he had exercised such perseverance in his cell that he was never moved from his purpose. Since he had been deceived from the beginning by the demon, who deceives everyone, who had caused him to fall into sloth and sorrow of soul, and had driven him from his cell (for he seemed to be sad and tormented in spirit in his first cell), departing from there, he built another closer to the village. After he had therefore finished the cell and lived in it for three or four months, a demon came at night holding a whip (taurea) like a lictor, showing forth the form of a soldier dressed in rags, and making a clattering noise with the whip (44). Being incensed at this, the blessed Nathanael said: "Who are you that does these things in my lodging?" The demon answered: "I am the one who drove you from your first cell, and now I have come that I might drive you from this one too." When therefore the blessed Nathanael recognized that he had been tricked, he returned to the first cell; and for the space of thirty-seven years he did not go out beyond the doors, struggling with the demon, who had done so many and so great things to him in order to force him to leave the cell, that it is not even permitted to recount them. Among other things, the enemy of good things devised this, namely, that he might cover him with shame and disgrace, in order to break his resolve.

When seven holy bishops had visited the saint, either by the providence of God or by the suggestion of that temptation, he almost wavered from his purpose. For when the bishops, after they had visited him, had prayed, and were leaving after the prayer, the excellent man did not accompany them even one footstep, lest he give room to the enemy of good. Therefore the deacons of the bishops say to him: "You act proudly, O abbot, that you do not escort the bishops." He indeed says to them: "I both honor my masters the bishops, and I revere the entire clergy; and I am a sinner, the offscouring of all men: yet to all these and to the whole of life, as far as I am concerned, I am dead to my purpose. For I hold a hidden aim, which the Lord knows who knows the secrets of my heart, as to why I did not accompany them."

When therefore this action too had not succeeded for the demon, he takes on such a form again. Nine months before the athlete's dormition, he was transformed into a boy twelve years old, as if driving a donkey carrying bread in a basket. When this boy was near the cell in the late evening, he pretended that the donkey had fallen, and kept calling out: "Abba Nathanael, have pity on me and reach out your hand to me." He heard the voice of the boy, indeed; and opening the door of the cell, standing inside, he was saying to him: "Who are you, and what do you want me to do for you?" The demon answers: "I am the servant of this monk, and I am bringing bread, because it is an agape of your known brother; and tomorrow at the dawning of the Sabbath, there is need of oblations. I ask you therefore not to despise me, lest I be devoured by hyenas. For there are hyenas in these places." Being silent, therefore, the blessed Nathanael, because of his immense mercy, was blinded, troubled in his bowels, and was pondering within himself what he should do, saying: "Either it will come to pass that I transgress the commandment, or I shall fail in my purpose." Afterward, thinking with pious judgment within himself, he said: "It is better not to weaken the resolve of so many years to the point of being disgraced and conquered by the devil." When therefore he had prayed to the Lord, he says to the boy who was speaking with him: "Listen, boy, or whoever you are. I believe in the God whom I worship, who rules over every spirit, that if you are truly in need of help, God will send you help; and neither will the hyenas, nor will anything else do you harm; but if you are a temptation, God will reveal this to me from this moment on." And having closed the door of the cell, he entered. Shamed by the fact that he was conquered in this way as well, the demon was dissolved into a whirlwind, assimilated to wild asses that were leaping and fleeing and making a noise, and thus he vanished. This was the struggle of the blessed Nathanael, and these are the virtues of his exercise, and his invincible fight against the adversary; and this is the end of his celebrated life.

CAPUT XVII. Concerning Macarius who committed an involuntary murder.

There was a certain young man named Macarius, about eighteen years of age, who, while playing with his companions near the lake called Maria while he was pasturing cattle, committed an involuntary murder. Without saying a word to anyone, he made his way to the desert, and reached such a state of fear, both of God and of men, that he was insensible to his surroundings, remaining roofless in the desert for three years. That land is waterless; and this everyone knows, both those who have learned it by report and those who have learned it by their own experience. This same Macarius later built himself a cell, and after living in it for another twenty-five years, he was deemed worthy of such a gift that he could spit upon demons while delighting in his solitude. ^A Having spent much time with him, I learned from him how his thought was disposed regarding the sin of the murder. He said that he was so far from grief, that he even gave thanks for the cause of the murder. "For the involuntary murder," he says, "became for me a reason for salvation." He spoke, bringing forward testimony from the Scriptures concerning the great servant of God, Moses, regarding the murder in Egypt, saying that if it were not for the fear caused by that murder, Moses would not have been deemed worthy of the vision of the Lord, and of such a gift, and of the writing of the holy words of the Spirit, if it were not for the fear of Pharaoh, by reason of which he fled from Egypt and reached Mount Sinai. These things I say, not to prepare a path for murder, but rather to show that there are also circumstantial virtues, whenever someone does not wish to approach the good by a voluntary purpose. For of the virtues, some are chosen by the will, and others are circumstantial.

CAPUT XVIII. Concerning Nathanael.

Another of the holy men of the ancients was an excellent athlete of Christ, named Nathanael. I did not meet him in the flesh; for he had fallen asleep fifteen years before my arrival on the mountain. But having fallen in with those who had struggled alongside this holy man and been his contemporaries, I inquired kindly about the virtue of the man. They also showed me the cell, into which no one goes anymore, because it is too near the inhabited world. For that blessed man built it at a time when ascetics were rare. They told me this exceptional thing about his exercise: that he possessed such patience in his cell that he was never once shaken from his intention; even among the times when he was mocked at the beginning by the demon who mocks and deceives everyone, who had also cast him into acedia, and forced him out of his cell. For he seemed to suffer acedia in his first cell. Departing from that one, he went away and built another closer to a village. So, after completing the cell and dwelling in it for three or four months, the demon appears at night, holding a scourge like the executioners, having the appearance of a ragged soldier, making noises with the scourge. Nathanael the blessed, being vexed at him, said to him: "Who are you, that you do these things in my hospitality?" The demon answered: "I am he who drove you out of the first cell, and now I have come to drive you out of this one too." Having perceived, therefore, the blessed Nathanael that he had been mocked, he returned again to the first shelter. And having fulfilled thirty-seven years ^B he did not cross the threshold, contending with the demon, who displayed so many things to him, so as to force him to go out of his cell, as are not even possible to relate. Among which is also this: The hater of good, having watched for an opportunity to distress him, was eager to cause a break in his purpose. Seven holy bishops having visited the holy man, either by the providence of God or by the design of the temptation, he nearly fell from his purpose because of that [visit]. For after the bishops had prayed following their visit, and were departing after the prayer, the noble man did not escort them even a step, so as not to give ground to the hater of good. The deacons of the bishops say to him: "You are doing an arrogant thing, Abba, by not escorting the bishops." But he says to them: "I respect my lords the bishops, and I honor the entire clergy, and I, the sinner, am the offscouring of all men. But to all these things, and to my whole life, I have died in my intention as much as in [me] lies. For I have a hidden purpose, which the Lord knows, who also knows the secret things of my heart, as to why I did not escort them."

^B The demon, having failed also in this drama, again comes in such a form: Nine months before the falling asleep of the athlete, he is transformed into a ten-year-old child, as if driving a donkey carrying loaves in a basket. And when late evening came, near his cell, he pretended that the donkey had fallen, and the child crying out: "Abba Nathanael, have pity on me, and give me a hand." He heard the voice of the child, as it seemed, and opening the door ^C of the cell, standing inside he spoke to him: "Who are you, and what do you want me to do for you?" The demon answers: "I am the little servant of this monk, and I am bringing bread. Since there is love for your acquaintance here, the brother, and tomorrow being the Sabbath, there is need of the offerings. I beg you, do not overlook me, lest I be eaten by hyenas. For there are many hyenas in these places." The blessed Nathanael, therefore, standing mute, because of much sympathy was very dizzy, being troubled in his bowels, and was reasoning what he should do, saying, "Either I have to fall from the commandment, or slip from my purpose." Later, after thinking it over with a pious mind, he said to himself: "It is better not to shake the purpose of so many years, for the shame and defeat of the devil." Therefore, having prayed to the Lord, he says to the child who was speaking, as it seemed: "Listen, child, or whoever you may be, I believe in Him whom I serve, the Master of every breath; that if you truly need help, my God will send you help, and neither hyenas nor anything else will harm you. But if you are a temptation, may my God reveal the drama to me even from this point." And closing the door of the cell, he went to the inner part. And the demon, having been put to shame also at this defeat of his, dissolved into a whirlwind, and having been made like wild asses leaping and fleeing, and emitting noises from themselves, thus disappeared. This was the struggle of the blessed Nathanael, and these are his virtues of exercise, and his invincible fight against the adversary, and this is his way of life, and the end of his celebrated life.

Chapter XIX, XX. On Macarius the Egyptian.

The deeds of the holy and immortal Fathers, Macarius the Egyptian and Macarius the Alexandrian, those noble men and invincible athletes—whose virtues are many and great, and to the unbelieving almost past belief—I hesitate to narrate and commit to writing, lest I be thought a liar. But that the Lord destroys all who speak lies is clearly shown by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, as I am not lying, for the grace of the Lord, most faithful of men, Lausus, do not you yourself disbelieve the feats of the holy Fathers, but rather take pride in these famous and truly blessed ones, who possessed the names that were worthy of their holy feats of asceticism.

The first athlete of Christ, Macarius by name, was Egyptian by birth. The second, younger in age but first in the virtues of monks—also called by the name Macarius—was a citizen of Alexandria and a seller of confectioneries.

I will first narrate the virtues of the Egyptian Macarius, who lived in total for ninety years; of these, he spent sixty in the desert. Having come out at thirty years of age, a young man in the prime of life, he practiced such endurance in ascetic toils during the next ten years that he was deemed worthy of much and great discernment, so that he was called "the boy-elder," because he progressed in virtues faster than his age. For when he reached forty, he received power over spirits, and the gift of healings, and the spirit of prophecy. He was also counted worthy of the honorable priesthood. Two disciples accompanied him into the inner desert, that which is called Scetis; one of them was his servant, always found near him so that those who came to him might be attended to, while the other retreated to a cell by himself.

As time went on, the saint, seeing with a prophetic eye, said to his attendant named John (who later became a priest in the place of Saint Macarius, for the great Macarius was deemed worthy of the priesthood), "Listen to me, brother John, and attend to my counsel, for it will be of profit to you. For you are being tempted, and the spirit of love of money is tempting you. For I have seen it thus. And I know that if you attend to my exhortation, you will be perfected in the work of God in this place, and you will be glorified, and the plague of Gehazi will not touch your dwelling. But if you disobey me, the ends of Gehazi shall come upon you, together with the sickness from which he suffered." It happened, however, that he did disobey the saint after the falling-asleep of the immortal Macarius, and instead obeyed the one who, like Judas, attached himself to the hangman of love of money; and fifteen years later, or twenty, he thus suffered with elephantiasis, having misappropriated the belongings of the poor, so that there was not an uninjured place on his body where one could place a finger. And this, therefore, is the prophecy of Saint Macarius.

As for eating and drinking, it is superfluous to tell of these, since not even among the more slothful of the external monks is glutting to be found, or even among those there in those places—both because of the scarcity of necessities and because of the zeal for God of those who dwell there, where each is always striving to surpass his neighbor in various ways of life.

Regarding the other asceticism of this heavenly man, I mean Macarius, it was said that this saint would incessantly be caught out of himself, and would spend more time with God than with things under heaven. Because of him, various miracles are reported.

A certain Egyptian man, profligate and enamored of a free married woman—and being unable to seduce her because of her temperance toward her own chaste husband—associated himself with a sorcerer. The wicked man said to him, "Either you must take this woman so that she loves me, or do something by your art so that her husband throws her out." The sorcerer, having received a sufficient fee from him, used his sorceries and enchantments. Unable to move the woman's mind to consent to this, he arranged for her to appear as a mare to those beholding her. ^B Her husband, therefore, coming from outside, saw his own wife in the form of a mare. Lying down upon his own bed, he was astonished that a mare was lying on his cot. Her husband wept and groaned, not understanding the matter, and as he thought he was speaking to an animal, he received no answer, the woman being enraged. Because of these things, he called the elders of the village, brought them into the house, and showed her to them. But they themselves did not understand the calamity that had befallen them. For three days, therefore, she partook of neither grass as a mare, nor of bread as a man, being deprived of both foods.

Finally, so that God might be glorified and the virtue of Saint Macarius appear, it came into the heart of her husband to lead her into the desert to the holy man. And having loaded her like a horse, he thus led her into the desert where the man of God dwelt. As they were approaching, the brothers were standing near the cell of Saint Macarius, fighting with her husband and saying, "Why have you brought this mare here?" That man answered them saying, "So that she might be pitied by the prayer of the righteous man." But they said to him, "Why, what evil has she?" He said to them, "The mare you see was my wretched wife, and I do not know how she was changed into a horse; and today she has three days without tasting anything." ^C The brothers, having heard these things, informed the servant of Christ, Macarius, who was praying inside for her; for it had been revealed to him by God as they were coming toward him. And for this reason, he prayed that the cause for which this happened be revealed to him, all of which he heard in his prayer just as it had come to pass. Saint Macarius answered the brothers who told him, "A mare did you once bring here?" saying to them, "You are horses, you who have the eyes of horses; she is a woman, just as she was created, not having been transformed, but only appearing so to the eyes of the deceived." When she was brought to him, having blessed water and poured it from above upon her in her nakedness, he prayed over her head. And immediately he caused her to appear as a woman to all who were watching.

CHAPTERS XIX AND XX. LAUSIAC HISTORY. The Life of Abbot Macarius of Egypt, and of Macarius of Alexandria (45).

^AConcerning the holy and immortal Fathers, Macarius of Egypt and Macarius of Alexandria (Ruff., bk. II, c. 28, 29), those illustrious and invincible athletes, the struggles of whose honest life are many and great, and to the incredulous almost unbelievable, I fear both to recount them and to commit them to writing, lest I myself should happen to be mentioned as a liar. But that God destroys all who speak a lie (Ps. V), one may clearly see, for the Holy Spirit proclaims it.

Since, therefore, by the grace of God I do not lie, most faithful Lausus, do not you yourself be incredulous regarding the struggles of the Fathers; rather, glory in the emulation of the discipline of those who are truly Macarii, that is to say, blessed.

And the first athlete of Christ, by name Macarius, was Egyptian by birth; the second, however, in age but holding the leading place in those things which pertain to monks, who was also called Macarius, was an Alexandrian, who used to sell sweetmeats.

And first I shall relate the virtues of Macarius of Egypt, who lived for ninety years entire. Out of these, he spent sixty years in the desert. Having ascended at thirty years of age, and being younger in years, he bore the labors of the discipline for a whole decade so tolerantly that he was deemed worthy of a great and distinguished discernment, so that he was called *paidariogeron*, that is, an old man in a youthful state, since he had progressed in virtues more swiftly than his age would suggest. For when he was forty years old, he received power against spirits, and the grace of healings, and the spirit of predicting the future; he was also deemed worthy of the honorable priesthood. Two disciples dwelt with him in the inner desert which is called Scete: of whom one was his minister, who was always found near him on account of those who came to be healed; the other sat apart in a cell.

^B

^C

As to his food and drink, it is superfluous to speak, since even among the laziest monks, who might be found elsewhere, there could not be gluttony, nor any mode of living distinct from that of others who choose a diet without discrimination, both because of the scarcity of necessary things and because of the zeal that is toward God, with each striving to surpass his neighbor in the diverse institutions of life.

Regarding the other exercise of this heavenly man, Macarius I mean, it was said that this saint was assiduously in ecstasy, and for the greater part of the time occupied with God rather than with the affairs of this world (46); for which reason also various miracles of his are reported.

A certain libidinous Egyptian (Ruff. bk. II, c. 28), having been captivated by the love of a certain free-born woman who had married a man, when he could not ensnare her on account of her modesty and chastity toward her spouse, the scoundrel approached a magician, saying: "Either incite her so that she may love me, or by your art effect that her husband might dismiss her." When, therefore, the magician had received enough from him, he used his sorceries and incantations; and because he could not move her mind so that she would consent to him, he caused her to appear as a mare to those who gazed upon her.

When, therefore, her husband had returned from outside, he looked upon his wife in the form of a mare; and when he had laid down in his bed, it seemed strange to him that a mare should lie in his bedroom. Her husband therefore weeps and laments that he cannot find the thing that was, and that, thinking he was speaking to a beast, he did not receive a response, except that he saw it merely growing angry. So he was the more distressed in spirit when he understood it to be his own wife, but that through the curious arts of men she had been changed into a mare. For these reasons he summons the priests of the village and leads them home, and shows her to them; but neither did they recognize the calamity that had happened to her. For three days, therefore, she neither ate hay as a mare, nor bread as a human, deprived of both foods. Eventually, so that God might be glorified and the virtue of Saint Macarius might be seen, it occurred to her husband to lead her into the desert to the holy man; and when he had tied her with a halter like a mare, he led her into the desert.

But when they had approached, the brothers stood near the cell of Saint Macarius, contending with her husband and saying: "Why have you brought this mare here?" He, however, says: "That she might obtain mercy through the prayer of the saint." They indeed say to him: "What evil does she have?" He says to them: "The mare you see was my wretched wife; nor do I know how she was changed into a mare, and it is now three days since she ate anything." But when they had heard these things, they report it to the servant of God, Macarius, who was already praying inside for her; for God had revealed to him that they were coming to him; and therefore he was praying that the cause for which this had come to pass might be declared to him. Saint Macarius, however, answered the brothers who had reported to him that a certain man had brought a horse there, saying: "You are horses, who have the eyes of horses; for she is a woman as she was created, not transformed, but thus s-

^Aeeming to the eyes of those who are deceived." When she was brought and he had blessed the water and poured it upon her naked head, he prayed over her head, and immediately caused her to appear as a woman to all who were watching. And when he had ordered food to be brought to her, he caused her to eat, and thus cured, he sent her away with her husband, rendering thanks to God. The man of God admonished her, saying: "Never desert the Church, never abstain from the communion of Christ's sacraments. For these things happened to you because you have not approached the undefiled sacraments of our Savior for five weeks already."

Another is the act of his great discipline. For a great part of his life, he dug a tunnel from his cell for as much as half a stadium, making a cave at the end; and if ever many people were troublesome to him, he would go out secretly from his cell and go into the cave, and no one would find him. One of his zealous disciples, however, told us that, going as far as the cave through the tunnel, he would say twenty-four prayers; and returning, just as many.

A report went out about him, that he raised a dead man (Ruff., II, c. 28) to persuade a heretic who did not believe in the resurrection of the body. And this report was constant in the desert.

To this holy man, a young man was once brought by his own mother, as she lamented, who was vexed by a demon, bound by two young men on either side. The demon was vexing him in this manner: after he had eaten three measures of bread and drunk a jar of Cilician wine, both belching and passing it, he would resolve the food into vapor. For from him, the things he had eaten and drunk were consumed no differently than by fire. For there is also an order of demons which is called "fiery." For there are differences among demons just as among men, not of essence changed, but distinct by will. Therefore, when his mother did not provide for this young man, he would often eat his own excrement and drink his urine. Accordingly, as his mother wept and mourned the calamity of her son, and greatly implored and asked the holy man, Macarius, the invincible athlete of Christ, taking the boy, prayed to God as a suppliant for him. After one or two days, the demon ceased the vexation. Then the holy Macarius said to the young man's mother: "How much do you want your son to eat?" She answered, saying: "I beseech thee, command him to eat only ten pounds of bread." Rebuking her, as one who had said too much, he said: "O woman, why have you said this?" And when he had prayed for seven days with fasting, having expelled the pernicious demon of gluttony from him, he established a diet of bread for him of up to three pounds, which he himself should eat if he were working. When he had cleansed the boy in this way by the grace of God, he returned him to his mother.

God did these admirable and unexpected things through holy Macarius, whose immortal soul is now with the angels. I did not meet him, for he had died the year before I entered the desert. I did, however, meet one who was his companion in the works of faith, and who had the same venerable name that he himself had.

I am speaking, moreover, of holy Macarius the Alexandrian, who was the presbyter of those places which are called the Cells. Having lived nine years in these Cells, during which that Macarius lived with me for three years, sitting in quiet, I saw some of his labors and signs of his excellent way of living, while others I learned from those who lived with him. When he had seen the choice palm branches that the great man and Father Antony had worked upon, he asked him for one bundle of palm branches. But Antony said to him: "It is ^Bwritten: Thou shalt not covet the things of thy neighbor (Deut. VII)." And when he had said only that, all the branches immediately withered as if by fire. When Antony saw this, he said to Macarius: "Behold, the Holy Spirit has rested upon you, and henceforth you shall be heir to my virtues."

Here, again, the devil found him in the desert when his body was very exhausted, and said to him: "Behold, you have received the grace of Antony; why do you not use your authority, and ask God for food and strength to begin your journey?" But he said to him: "The Lord is my strength and my praise; do not you tempt the servant of God." The devil therefore caused a phantom to appear to him, a camel carrying burdens and wandering through the desert, having everything necessary for use. When it had seen Macarius, it sat down near him. But he, suspecting it to be a phantom, as it was, stood up to pray; and it was immediately absorbed into the earth.

At another time, this Macarius the Alexandrian came again to the great Macarius who was in Scete. And when both were about to cross the Nile, it happened that they boarded a very large ferry; onto which two tribunes had entered with great pomp and equipment, in that they had inside a carriage made entirely of bronze, and horses with golden bridles, and certain soldiers, guards, and boys wearing necklaces and golden belts accompanying them. After the tribunes saw them dressed in old rags, and sitting in a corner, they judged that humble and meager way of life to be blessed; but one of the tribunes said to them: "Blessed are you who make a mockery of the world." Macarius, however, who was urban, answered them: "We have indeed mocked the world, but the world has mocked you. But know that you did not say this of your own accord, but prophetically: for we are both called Macarii, that is to say, blessed." He, stung by his sermon, when he arrived home, stripping off his clothes, chose to live a solitary life, performing many alms.

When at one time he desired to eat of some fresh and beautiful grapes sent to him, demonstrating continence, he sent them to another brother who was laboring, who himself also desired grapes. He, when he had received them and was filled with great joy, wishing to hide his own continence, sent them to another brother who was laboring, who himself also craved that food. When he had also received them, he did this same thing again, even though he himself greatly desired to eat them. After the grapes had then come to many brothers, since no one had been willing to eat them, the last one who had received them brought them back again, though he himself was very eager to eat them.

^A Having ordered sustenance to be brought to her, he caused her to eat; and having thus healed her, he sent her away with her husband, giving thanks to God. The man of Christ also instructed her, saying to her: "Never be absent from the Church, and never abstain from the communion of the mysteries of Christ." For it was because this happened—your not having approached the immaculate mysteries of our Savior for five weeks—that these things befell you.

Another deed, again, of his great asceticism: during the long span of his life, he made a tunnel under the ground from his cell for a distance of half a stadium, terminating in a cave. And if ever a greater multitude troubled him, he would go out secretly from his cell and depart to the cave, and no one would find him. One of his zealous disciples, therefore, narrated this to us, saying that, going as far as the cave through this tunnel, he would perform twenty-four prayers, and returning, he would perform the same again.

Regarding him, a rumor went out that he even raised the dead, in order to persuade a heretic who did not confess the resurrection of bodies. And this rumor prevailed concerning him in the desert.

To this holy man a youth possessed by a demon was once brought by his own mother, who was lamenting over him, for he was bound to two youths on either side. This demon had this power: after eating three bushels of bread and drinking an amphora of Cilician water, he would belch, and the food would be dissolved into steam. For the things eaten and drunk by him were consumed just as if by fire. For there is also an order of demons called "fiery." For there are differences among demons, just as also among men, not in essence being changed, but in resolve. This youth, therefore, not being satisfied by his own mother, was often eating his own excrement and drinking his own urine. His mother, therefore, weeping and being exceedingly grieved at the unspeakable affliction of her son, and entreating the holy man much and begging him, the unconquered athlete of Christ, Macarius, having taken the youth, prayed to God for him. And after one and two days, the demon was cast out from the terrible affliction. Then the holy Macarius said to the youth’s mother, "How much do you want your son to eat?" She answered, saying, "I beg you, order ten litrai of bread." He, having reproved her sternly for having spoken too much, said, "O woman, why have you said this?" And having prayed over the youth for seven days with fasting, and having driven out from him the avenging demon of gluttony, he set for him a diet of food at three litrai of bread, so that he should be obliged to eat this while working. And in this way, by the grace of God and his own God-bearing manner of life, having completely healed the boy, the athlete of Christ, Macarius, who is unconquerable by any demonic operation, returned him to his mother. God has performed these wondrous signs through His own genuine friend Macarius, whose immortal soul is now with the angels. I have not met this holy man; for a year before my entry into the desert, this fighter of irrational passions had fallen asleep. ^{B C}

^D I have, however, met the one who is a yoke-fellow to this man in the works of faith, and who shares the same venerable name—I mean the holy Macarius the Alexandrian, a priest of the so-called "Cells," to which cells I myself moved and lived for nine years; in which this blessed man also survived for three years, sitting in stillness. And some works and signs of his excellent manner of life I saw myself, some I learned from those who lived with him, and others I heard from many others as well.

Once, having seen some choice palm fronds with the great Father Anthony, he asked him for one bundle of the fronds. Anthony said to him, "It is written, 'You shall not covet the things of your neighbor.'" And upon his only having said this, straightway all the palm fronds were scorched as if by fire. Seeing this, Anthony said to Macarius, "Behold, the Spirit has rested upon you, and you shall henceforth be the heir of my virtues."

From there, again, the devil found him in the desert having labored greatly in body, and he says to him, "Behold, you have received the grace of Anthony. Why then do you not make use of the dignity? And why do you ask for food and strength from God for your journey?" He says to him, "The Lord is my strength and my hymn; and you shall not tempt the servant of God." The devil therefore creates by phantasy a pack-carrying camel wandering through the desert, having everything useful for the need; which, having seen Macarius, knelt down before him. But he, suspecting it to be a phantasy—which it was—stood for prayer; and it was at once swallowed into the earth.

This man, Macarius the Politikos, was once joined to the great Macarius, and as they were about to cross the Nile, it happened that they entered a very large ferry, in which some tribunes had entered with much pomp, having all-bronze carriages, and horses with golden bridles, and some soldiers as bodyguards, and some boys as attendants wearing golden belts. As the tribunes saw the monks wearing old rags and sitting in a corner, they lauded their humility. One of the tribunes said to them, "Blessed are you who have mocked the world." But Macarius the Politikos, answering, said to them, "We indeed have mocked the world, but the world has mocked you. Know that you have not said this voluntarily, but prophetically. For both of us are called blessed." The tribune, being pricked by the word, went away home, stripped off his clothes, and chose to live as a monk, having performed many almsgivings.

Another time, when a fresh bunch of grapes had been sent to him, wishing to partake of it, he gave a demonstration of self-control: he sent it to a certain brother who was ailing and also desiring grapes. He, having received it and being exceedingly joyful—wishing to hide his own self-control—sent it on to another brother, as he himself was having no appetite for the food. The one who then received it did the same thing, wishing greatly himself also to partake of it. As the grapes had then come to many brothers, since no one had been willing to eat them, the last one who had received them brought them back again, though he himself was very eager to eat them.

Recognizing them, Macarius inquired thoroughly into the matter, and marveled, giving thanks to the Lord for such self-mastery of theirs, and yet he himself did not partake of them for the time being.

The asceticism of the great Macarius, which I and many others verified with him, was this: if he ever heard of anyone having performed some work of asceticism, he would most zealously perform it himself.

Having heard from some people that the Tabennesiotes eat food that has not been cooked by fire throughout the entirety of the forty days of Lent, this holy man decided to eat nothing that had passed through fire for seven years; except for raw vegetables, if he happened to find any, or soaked legumes, he tasted nothing else during those seven years. Having succeeded in this, he then despised that way of life.

He heard of another of these excellent monks who ate a pound of bread, and, emulating him, he broke up the hard bread he had and put it into jars, deciding to eat only as much as his hand could bring out. This was a great hardship for the body. He used to tell us, joking, "I would reach for more pieces, but I was not allowed to bring them out because of the narrowness of the opening. For my toll-collector," he said, "would not allow me to eat at all." So for three full years he practiced this self-restraint, eating four or five ounces, and drinking an equivalent amount of water. He spent only a pint of oil a year for his sustenance.

*Another asceticism of the athlete.* This adamant decided to overcome sleep. And he told this: that he did not enter under a roof for twenty whole days and nights, in order to conquer sleep, burning with the heat during the day and stiffened by the cold at night. And he used to say, "If I had not entered under a roof soon, and availed myself of sleep, my brain would have dried up to the point of driving me into ecstasy. And as far as I was concerned," he said, "I was overcoming sleep; but as far as nature needing sleep was concerned, I yielded to it."

When this holy man was sitting in his cell early in the morning, a mosquito landed on his foot and stung him. Feeling pain, he crushed it with his hand after it had gorged itself on blood. Having later condemned himself for having avenged himself, he disciplined himself by going to the marsh of Scetis, which is in the deep desert, to sit naked for six months. There the mosquitoes are able to pierce even the hides of wild boars, since they are like large wasps. He was so completely bitten by them that he developed sores all over his body, and some even thought he had leprosy. When he returned to his cell after those six months, he was recognized only by his voice as being the lord Macarius.

It happened once that this same man, as he himself told us, wished to enter the garden-tomb of Jannes and Jambres, the magicians who were with Pharaoh, for the sake of history or even for an encounter with the demons there. For it was said that a great number of cruel demons had been allotted ^A by those very people to that place because of the excess of their unholy art. This garden-tomb had been built by that Jannes and Jambres of the brothers, who at that time held the primacy with Pharaoh because of the excess of their magic art. So, possessing great power in Egypt during their lifetime, they built that work out of square stones, creating within it a tomb and depositing much gold. They also planted all kinds of trees and dug a very large well of water; for the place is moisture-bearing. They did all these things, hoping after their departure from here to enjoy luxury in that paradise.

Finally, not knowing the way leading to this place, the servant of Christ, Macarius, followed only his estimation of the stars, just as sailors ^B crossing the seas. Thus, this holy man traveled through the whole desert, and having taken a bundle of reeds, he set one down every mile as a marker, so that he might find his way back. Having journeyed through that entire desert in nine days, and arriving near that garden, he slept a little once night had fallen. The wild demon, who always opposes the athletes of Christ, gathered all those reeds while Macarius was sleeping, and having placed them at his head as a single mark of the garden-tomb, he departed. Having risen, he found the reeds tied together, which he himself had planted for the sake of a marker. Perhaps even this was permitted by God for a greater exercise for him, so that he might not rely on reeds as guides, but on the grace of God, who through the pillar of cloud led ^C Israel for forty years in that fearful desert.

The holy man said that as soon as I approached the garden-tomb, seventy demons came out to meet me in all sorts of shapes, some roaring, some leaping, some gnashing their teeth at me with great grinding. Others, flying like crows, dared to rush at my face, saying, "What do you want, Macarius, tempter of monks? Why have you come to us? Did we ever act against any of the monks? You have yours there with those like you, the desert; and from there you drove out our relatives. We have nothing in common with you. Why do you trespass on our places? Be content with the desert as an anchorite. ^D To us, those who built this place allotted this spot. You cannot stay here. Why do you seek to enter into this property, into which no human being, while living, has entered since the brothers who built this were buried here by us?" And with the demons still greatly troubled and lamenting, I said to them, Macarius said, "I will only enter, and see, and I will depart from here." And the demons said, "Swear this to us on your conscience." And the servant of Christ said, "I will do this." And the demons vanished. Having entered, therefore, he said, I beheld everything, in which I found also a bronze bucket hanging by an iron chain down the well, consumed by time; and...

the fruit of the pomegranate trees, which had nothing inside them, for they had been dried up by the sun, and many golden ^A square stones, which had been laid there at that time of their life, and after he had inquired curiously into the matter, he wondered; and having given thanks to God for such great endurance of theirs, not even he himself ate of them at last.

And this indeed is the exercise of the great Macarius, which I and many others accurately learned from him. If he heard that any work of exercise had ever been done by someone, he performed it with all-consuming fervor. When he had heard from some that the Tabennesiotes, during the entire forty days, ate nothing that had been touched by fire, this holy man decided to eat nothing for seven years that had passed through fire, and in that whole seven-year period he tasted nothing but raw vegetables or legumes he happened to find moistened. Having lived rightly with this, he eventually rejected this way of living. But this best of monks heard from some other person that a certain monk was eating a pound of bread. Emulating him, he broke what he had of a hard biscuit and cast it into a jar, deciding to eat only as much as his hand could pull up. Great, however, is this austerity in the cultivation of the body. He used to tell us cheerily: "I would indeed grab many pieces, but the narrowness of the opening would not allow me to bring them out. For my toll-collector [i.e., the narrow neck of the jar] did not permit me to eat at all." He therefore practiced this abstinence for three whole years, eating four or five ounces, and the water that corresponded to them; and he consumed a sextarius of oil in a whole year for nourishment.

Another exercise of the athlete: This indomitable man decided to overcome sleep. For the sake of utility, he himself narrated this: "For twenty full days and nights I did not enter a roofed structure, in order to conquer sleep, since during the day I burned with heat and at night I grew stiff with cold. Unless," he said, "I had entered a roofed structure and used sleep, my brain had become so parched that it was sliding into ecstasy; and as far as I am concerned, I conquered sleep; but as for the one who has work belonging to nature, I yielded to it."

And at one time the spirit of fornication caused him distress (49); and then he condemned himself to sit naked for six months in the marsh of Scetis, which is in the vast wilderness, in which mosquitoes can pierce the skins of wild boars—because they are as large as wasps—to such a degree that they fixed their stings into his whole body, so that some supposed him to be a leper. Having returned, therefore, to his cell after six months, he was recognized by his voice to be the master Macarius.

He desired at one time, as he himself told us, to enter the tomb, which is in the gardens, which is called the ^B *kēpotaphion* [garden-tomb] of Jannes and Jambres, the magicians who were in the time of Pharaoh, in order to see it, or perhaps even to meet the demons who are there. For it was said that many, and very ferocious ones, were placed in that spot by them on account of the excellence of their infamous art. This tomb, however, was made by the brothers Jannes and Jambres, who, on account of the excellence of their magic art, were holding the primary offices at that time when they held the greatest power in Egypt; they constructed that work from square stones (50), and made their own tomb there; and since they had deposited much gold there, and had planted every kind of tree, they also dug a very large well of water; for the place is moist (51). They did all these things, hoping after their departure from here to enjoy delights in that paradise. At length, therefore, because he did not know the path that leads to that garden, the servant of God, Macarius, followed the stars by a certain conjecture, and just like sailors who cross the seas, the holy man traversed the entire wilderness; and when he had also taken some reeds, he set one at each mile, so that he might return by those signs. When, therefore, he had traversed all that wilderness within nine days, and was near to that garden, as night came on he slept a little. But the monstrous demon who always opposes the athletes of Christ, having gathered all those reeds while Macarius was sleeping, and having placed them at about one stone's throw from the tomb at his head, departed; after, therefore, he awoke, he found the gathered reeds which he himself had fixed for the sake of a sign. And perhaps this also was a permission of God for his greater exercise, that he might not hope in reeds, but in the grace of God, which led Israel through the pillar of cloud for forty years in that terrible wilderness. ^C But Macarius was saying: "When I approached nearer to that tomb, there came out to meet me up to seventy demons possessed of various forms; some indeed crying out, others leaping, others gnashing their teeth at me with great roaring, others flying like crows, they dared to insult my face, saying: 'What do you want, Macarius, temptation of the monks? Why have you approached us? Have we not also vexed some of the monks? What is ours, you have there with your fellows, namely the wilderness, and from there you have driven away our kin. There is nothing in common between us and you. Why do you invade our places? Being an anchorite, be content with the wilderness. Those who built this place assigned it to us; you cannot remain here. Why do you seek to enter into this possession, into which no one among living men has entered, since the time when the obsequies were performed by us here for the brothers who founded this?' And when the demons were still troubling and insulting him, holy Macarius said to them: 'I will enter only, and I will see, and I will depart from here.' But the demons said: 'Promise this to us upon your conscience.' And the servant of Christ says, 'I will do this.' And the demons vanished." ^D

^A for they had been dried up by the sun, and there were many golden votive offerings. When the holy man had departed from there without tumult and without any disturbance, he returned in twenty days to his cell.

But when the bread and the water which he was carrying had run out, he was in great affliction. For, journeying for twenty days through the wilderness, as I suppose, he tasted nothing at all, as the event also showed. Perhaps, moreover, he was also being tempted by intolerance. And when he was already on the verge of collapsing, there appeared to him one who bore the appearance of a young girl, as he himself used to relate, dressed in a clean linen garment and holding a pitcher dripping with water: Macarius used to say that she was about a stadium away from him. For three days he journeyed behind her as she stood with the pitcher and beckoned him, though he could not catch up with her; yet, by the hope of drinking, he courageously endured the labor of three days. After this, a multitude of buffaloes appeared, one of which stood opposite him with its calf; for there are many in those places. And as Macarius told us, its udder was flowing with milk, and a voice sounded to him from above, saying: "Macarius, approach the buffalo, and suck. When therefore," he said, "I had approached it and had been nourished, it was enough for me." But as the Lord intended to show greater grace, teaching my insignificance, he commanded the buffalo to follow me as far as the cell. And it, obeying the command, followed, nursing me, yet not allowing its own calf to approach.

Once again, when this man, gifted with virtue, was digging a well to refresh the monks (this was near some leaves and vine-prunings placed there), he was bitten by an asp (which is a poisonous and deadly animal). ^B The holy man, seizing the asp by both jaws with both hands, tore it apart, saying: "Since my Lord did not send you, how did you dare to approach me?"

When he had already been there for some time, Lent arrived; and the elder Macarius saw that each one had taken up different ways of living: one eating in the evening, another after two days, another after five; one standing through the whole night, while during the day sitting at work. He himself, having soaked some palm branches for himself, stood in one corner, and until the forty days were fulfilled and Easter had come, he did not take bread, did not drink water, did not bend his knee, did not sit, did not lie down; he tasted nothing else except for a few raw cabbage leaves, which he took on the Lord's Day so that he might appear to be eating and thus not fall into an arrogant persuasion about himself. And if ever he went out for any necessity, returning quickly, he stood at his work, not opening his mouth, but standing in silence, doing nothing else but exercising silence in his heart, making prayer, and working the palm branches which he had in his hands.

When all the ascetics of that monastery had seen these things, they stirred up a sedition against their superior: "Whence have you brought us this man without flesh to our condemnation? Either cast him out of here, or, know this, we shall all depart from here." When the great Pachomius had heard these things from the brothers, he inquired about him. And when he had learned the manner of his way of life, he prayed to God that it might be revealed to him who he was. And it was revealed to him that it was Macarius the monk. Then the great Pachomius took his hand and led him outside; and when he had led him into the house of prayer where the altar is, and had embraced him, he said to him: "Come now, venerable elder. You are Macarius, and you hid this from me. For many years I have desired to see you, having heard of you. I give you thanks that you have subdued my sons, so that they may not boast and look around magnificently because of their exercise. I pray you therefore, return to your place, for you have edified us enough, and pray for us." Then, being asked by him, and with all the brothers praying, he departed thus.

Once again, this impassible man told us: "When I had rightly governed the whole method of the monastic life, then I came to another spiritual desire. For I determined for five days alone to so compose my mind that it could not be torn away from God, and should think of nothing else at all. And when I had determined this with myself, I closed my cell and the courtyard ^D from the outside, so as to give an answer to no one. And I stood, beginning from the second hour, commanding my mind, and saying to it: 'Take care not to descend from the heavens. You have angels, archangels, all the supernal powers, cherubim and seraphim, and God, the Maker of all these. Linger there, do not descend under the heavens, do not fall into worldly thoughts.' But after I had persevered for two days and two nights," he said, "I so irritated the demon that he himself became a flame of fire, and burned all things that I had in the cell, so much so that even the mat upon which I was standing burned with fire, and thus I thought myself also to be entirely conflagrating. Finally, affected by fear, on the third day I desisted from this intention, as I could not..."

any longer keep my mind undistracted, but descended to the contemplation of the world ^A of pomegranates, having nothing inside; for they had been dried up by the sun. Tranquilly departing from there, the saint returned to his own cell after twenty days.

When the bread and the water which he carried with him had run out, he fell into great distress. For in those days when he wandered the desert, he almost tasted nothing at all. But as the situation revealed, perhaps he was even tempted to patience. And as he was near to falling, he was seen by one in the form of a maiden, as he himself told the story, carrying a clean linen cloth and holding a bowl of water dripping. This he said the blessed one was far from him, as if a stadium away, and for three days he was walking, seeing her with the bowl as one standing, and as if calling him; yet he was unable to reach her, ^B as one might see in the case of priests and the mysteries; but in the hope of drinking, he endured the fatigue of three days with vigor. After which there appeared a multitude of buffaloes; from which one having a calf stood opposite the monk (for there are many in those places). And as the blessed Macarius said, the udder of her milk was flowing. Having gone up, therefore, he said, and suckled, I was satisfied. But in order that the Lord might show his grace more abundantly, instructing my insignificance, he commanded the buffalo to follow me to the cell. And she, obeying the command, followed, me suckling, but not receiving her calf.

At another time, while this virtuous man was digging a well for the resting of monks (this was near reeds and brushwood lying there), he was bitten by an asp. This animal has a deadly bite. The saint, therefore, having seized the asp with both hands, tore it in two parts, saying to it: "Unless the Lord had sent you, how did you dare to come to me?" ^C

This same great Macarius, having heard that the Tabennesiotes possess a great way of life, disguised himself and taking on the worldly habit of a laborer, journeyed for fifteen days through the desert into the Thebaid. And having entered the monastery of the Tabennesiotes, he sought out their archimandrite, Pachomius, a man highly approved and possessing a prophetic gift; from whom at that time were hidden the things concerning the great Macarius. Having met him, therefore, Macarius said: "I beseech you, lord, receive me into your monastery, that I may become a monk." The great Pachomius says to him: "You have arrived at old age, and how can you practice asceticism? The brothers here have been practicing from their youth, and, nurtured in labors, they bear the fatigue; but you, at this age, cannot endure the temptations of asceticism, and you will be scandalized, and depart, and slander us." And he did not admit him, neither on the second time, until seven days had passed. But he persisted, remaining fasting. Later, the elder Macarius says to him: "Receive me, abba, and if I do not fast as they do, and work what they work, then command me to be cast out of the monastery." The great Pachomius convinces the brothers to admit him. ^D The community of that one monastery is, even to this day, one thousand four hundred men. The great Macarius therefore entered into it. And when a little time had passed, the season of the Forty Days stood upon him. And the elder Macarius saw each of them taking up different modes of life—one eating in the evening, another every five days. Another again standing through the whole night, and sitting for work during the day. This man, having soaked palm fronds in abundance, stood in one corner, and until the forty days were completed, and the Pascha had arrived, he did not take bread, nor did he touch water, nor bend a knee, nor sit, nor lie down, nor did he taste anything else, except for a few raw cabbage leaves, which he took on Sunday, so that he might appear to eat, and might not fall into vanity. And if ever he went out for his needs, he would return quickly and stand to work, not opening his mouth, not speaking, neither small nor great, but standing he was silent, doing nothing else except the prayer in his heart, and the fronds that he held in his hands. But all the ascetics of that monastery, having seen this man, rose up in mutiny against their superior, saying: "Wherefore have you brought this fleshless man to us for our condemnation? Either cast him out from here, or let it be known to you that we all depart from you today." ^A Having heard these things from the brothers, the great Pachomius inquired into his affairs; and having learned about his way of life, he prayed to God that He might reveal to him who this man is. And it was revealed to him that this is Macarius the monk. Then the lord Pachomius takes his hand and leads him outside. And leading him into the oratory, where their altar lay, and having embraced him, he says to him: "Come, Macarius; you are Macarius, and you hid it from me. For many years I have yearned to see you, hearing about you. I give you thanks that you chastised my children, so that they might not think highly of their own asceticism. I beseech you, depart to your place. For you have sufficiently built us up, and pray for us." Then, having been entreated by him, and all the brothers begging him, he departed thus.

At another time this dispassionate one was telling us: "When I had accomplished every ascetic rule that I desired, I then came to another spiritual desire. In which I once judged to arrive at this desire for works. And I wished, he said, for five days only to make my mind undistracted from God, and to think absolutely nothing, but to attend only to Him. And having judged this within myself, I shut my cell and the courtyard outside, and I stood, starting from the second day, having charged my mind, saying to it: 'Take heed not to come down from the heavens. You have there angels, archangels, all the powers above, the Cherubim, the Seraphim, God the Creator of all; dwell there; do not come down below the sky; do not fall into psychic thoughts.' And having lasted, he says, two days and two nights in this way, I provoked the demon so much that he became a flame of fire, and burned all my things in the cell, so that even the mat upon which I stood was consumed by fire. And thus I thought myself to be entirely burning. Finally, affected by fear, I desisted from this intention on the third day, as I could not any longer make my mind undistracted, but descended to the contemplation of the world

^A I then approached this spiritual monk, the great Macarius, and found outside his cell a village presbyter lying down, whose entire head had been eaten away by the disease called cancer, so that even the bone of his skull was entirely visible. He had come to him ^B to be healed, but he would not receive him for an interview. I therefore besought him, saying, "I beg you, have pity on this wretched man, and give him at least an answer." And he answered me, saying, "He is unworthy to be healed. For this was sent to him as a chastisement from the Lord. But if you wish him to be healed, persuade him from now on to abstain from the ministration of the mysteries." I said to him, "Why, I beg you?" He said to me, "He was officiating while committing adultery, and for this reason he is being chastised now. If, therefore, he will abstain out of fear from what he dared to do through contempt, God will heal him." I told these things to the sufferer. He agreed and swore before God that he would no longer serve as a priest, and then he received him. He said to him, "Do you believe that there is a God from whom nothing is hidden?" He replied, "Yes, I beg you." Then the great Macarius said to him, "Could you have mocked God?" He said, "I could not, my lord." The great Macarius says to him, "If you acknowledge your sin and the chastisement of God because of which you endured these things, amend yourself for the future." And he confessed his sin, and gave his word no longer to sin nor to officiate at the altar, but to embrace the rank of a layman. ^C Then the saint laid his hands upon him. And in a few days he was healed, and his hair grew, and he went away well to his own house, glorifying God and giving thanks also to the great man.

He had various cells in the desert where he practiced the struggles of virtue: one in Scetis in the remote inner desert; one in Libya in the so-called Cells; one on the Mount of Nitria. And these are without shutters, in which it was said that Macarius sat during Lent in darkness; the other cell was very narrow, in which it was not possible to stretch out one's feet; the third cell was wider, in which he also met with those who visited him.

This lover of God healed such a multitude of those possessed by demons that they could not easily be put into a number. While we were present with this holy man, a noble woman of Achaia, wealthy in life, who had been paralyzed for many years, was brought on a litter from the parish of Thessalonica. She was brought to him and set down near his cell. ^D Filled with compassion and having prayed, and anointing her with holy oil with his own hands, and praying for her constantly and even more wisely for twenty whole days, he sent her back to her own city whole. And she, going on her own feet, sent much fruit to the saints.

Again, before my own eyes, there was brought to the spiritual physician of all irrational passions, the holy Macarius, a young boy who was being troubled by a cruel spirit. The saint laid his right hand upon his head and his left upon his heart, and he prayed for him to such a degree that he caused him to be suspended in the air. The boy, having swelled up like a wineskin throughout his whole body, was so inflamed that he became heavy in weight. And suddenly, crying out through all his senses, he brought forth water and, being relieved, he became the size he was from the beginning. He then delivered him to his father, having anointed him with holy oil and poured blessed water upon him, ^A commanding those with him not to let him touch meat or wine for forty days. And thus he dismissed him, having healed him.

Thoughts of vainglory once troubled this great Macarius, testing him to call him out of his cell. And suggesting to him for the sake of dispensation that he should reach Rome, as if under the pretext of healing those who were sick there. For the grace of the Lord was working in him intensely against the spirits. And as they harassed him for a long time and he did not obey, they wrestled more violently with him, trying to drive him out. The saint, therefore, falling on the threshold of his own cell and stretching out his feet, left them outside, saying to the demons of vainglory, "Drag me away, if you can, demons. For I am not going anywhere else on my own feet. If, therefore, you are able to carry me away thus, I will go where you say." Swearing to them and saying that he would lie there until evening, "If you do not move me, I will not obey you." ^B Having fallen for a long time and remained unmoved, he arose when it was late in the evening. As night came, they harassed him again with fire. The saint, therefore, having risen and taking a basket like two modii, filled it with sand and, placing it upon his own shoulders, he moved about the desert in this manner. Theodosius the cosmitor, an Antiochene by race, met him and said to him, "What are you carrying, Abba? Give the burden to me, and do not weary yourself." But he says, "I am wearying him who wearies me. For being idle, he burdens me with traveling." And having moved about for a long time in this way, he entered his cell, having broken his body.

The servant of Christ, Parnoutius, the disciple of this courageous athlete, also told us that one day, when the blessed and immortal Macarius was sitting in the courtyard and conversing with God, a hyena took its blind cub and brought it. And scratching the small door of the courtyard with her head, she entered while he was still sitting there; and she throws it under his feet. ^C The holy Macarius took this cub and, having spat on its eyes, he prayed; and immediately it saw. And after it had suckled, the mother took it and thus went away. On the following day, she brought a sheepskin to the holy Macarius, and the saint, seeing the skin, said these things to the hyena: "Whence comes this to you, if you have not eaten someone's sheep? That which is from injustice, therefore, I do not receive from you." But the hyena, bowing her head to the ground, knelt at the feet of the saint and put down the skin. And he was saying to her, "I told you that I do not take it, unless you swear to me no longer to trouble the poor by devouring their sheep." And at this, she nodded her head, as if agreeing with the holy Macarius. Then he received the skin from the hyena. Which skin this servant of Christ left to the holy and blessed Athanasius the Great. As the blessed handmaid of Christ, Melania, also told me: "From the holy and marvelous man Macarius, I received that skin, called the stranger-gift of the hyena." And what is marvelous in this, before men who have been crucified to the world, that a hyena should be benefited, and to the glory of God and the honor of his servants, make return by bringing stranger-gifts? ^D For He who tamed the lions for the prophet Daniel, granted understanding to this hyena as well. It was said concerning this holy Macarius that from the time he was baptized, he never spat on the ground; until his sixtieth

year from the time he had been baptized. For he had received baptism when he was forty years old.

The appearance of his body was such—for it is fitting that I should indicate this to you as well, servant of Christ, so that you might know it perfectly, as my lowliness has been ^A with him, and having anointed him with holy oil and poured in water, he commanded him not to taste meat or wine for forty days; and thus he cured him.

Sometimes thoughts of vainglory would assault him, which would cast him out of his cell and suggest that for an honorable purpose and for a just cause he should go to Rome, for the benefit of those who were sick; for the grace granted him against the spirits worked powerfully in him. But after he did not obey for a long time, he was greatly agitated. Falling, therefore, on the threshold of his cell, he stretched his feet outward and said: "Drag and pull, O demons, if you can. For I shall not leave on my own feet," swearing that he would lie there until evening, and that unless they dragged him out, he would not listen to them. When he had lain there for a long time, he arose; but when night came, they gave him trouble again. And when he had filled a basket of two modii with sand and placed it on his shoulders, he traversed the whole desert. Theosebius the Cosmetor, an Antiochene by birth, met him and said to him: "What are you carrying, abba? Give the burden to me, and do not weary yourself." But he said: "I am wearying him who wearies me; for since I am lax and slothful, he suggests pilgrimages to me." When he had walked for a long time, he entered his cell with a contrite body.

^B Now Paphnutius, also a servant of God and a disciple of this illustrious saint, related to us that one day, when Saint Macarius was sitting in his courtyard and speaking with God, a hyena brought her cub, which was blind, to Saint Macarius; and when she had knocked on the door of the courtyard with her head, she entered, while he was still sitting there, and cast the cub at his feet. When Saint Macarius had taken the cub and spat upon its eyes, he prayed, and it recovered its sight immediately. And when the mother had suckled it and taken it up, she went out in that manner. On the following day, she brought the skin of a large sheep to Saint Macarius; and when the saint saw the skin, he said this to the hyena: "Where could you have gotten this, unless you had devoured someone's sheep? ^C Therefore, what proceeds from injury, I do not accept from you." But the hyena, with her head bowed to the ground, bent her knee at the saint's feet and placed the skin there. He himself, however, kept saying to her: "I told you that I would not accept it unless you swore that you would no longer offend the poor by eating their sheep." She, for her part, nodded her head to this as well, as one who agreed with the holy Macarius. Then he accepted the skin from the hyena. The blessed handmaiden of Christ, Melania, told me that she had received that skin from that Macarius, calling it the hyena's gift. But what is wonderful among men crucified to the world, if a hyena, affected by a kindness, should bring gifts to the glory of God and the honor of his servants, feeling this in her own way? For he who in the prophet Daniel rendered lions tame, granted understanding to this hyena as well. ^D

I know this perfectly well, as my own insignificance was contemporary with him. His appearance was quite small, mutilated, and sparse, having hair only on his lip. On the crown of his head he even had a few hairs. For, because of the massive labors of his training, not even a beard had sprouted on his chin.

One day, when I had visited this holy Macarius while I was very anxious in spirit, I said to him, "Abba Macarius, what shall I do, since thoughts are afflicting me, saying to me: 'You are doing nothing, leave this place'?" The holy Father Macarius answered me, saying: "Tell your own thoughts: 'For the sake of Christ I am guarding the walls.'"

Through these things, O studious and most loving servant of Christ, I have set forth the fame of the illustrious and virtue-endowed Macarius, from his many great signs and struggles.

This Macarius told us (for he was a presbyter) that at the time of the communion of Christ’s sacraments, he observed that he never gave the oblation to Marcus the practitioner, but that an angel gave it to him from the altar; he only saw the finger of the hand of him who was giving it.

CAPUT XXI. Life of Abbot Marcus.

When this Marcus the Younger was present, he would recite the Old and New Testament by memory, and he was remarkably gentle and extremely temperate. Therefore, one day, having enough leisure in my cell, I went to him in his extreme old age, and sat at the door of his cell. I, being as yet a novice, thought he was above a man, as indeed he was; and I listened to what he might say or do. But he, being alone inside—having already passed one hundred years and lost his teeth—was struggling with himself and with the devil, and was saying: "What do you want next, *kakogenes* [bad old man], that is to say, wicked old man? Behold, you have already drunk both wine and handled oil. What do you want next, *polyphage* [voracious eater], that is to say, glutton in old age, and *koilodoulos* [servant to the belly], that is to say, slave to the belly, inflicting yourself with disgrace and insult?" And saying to the devil: "Depart from me, devil, you have grown old with me in contentions; you have cast upon me the weakness of the body, you have made me drink wine and take oil, rendering me a slave to pleasure. Do I still owe you anything? You find nothing within me which you would wish to plunder. Depart from me henceforth, enemy of men." And as if provoking and irritating himself, he was speaking with himself, saying: "Depart, O trifler, O glutton in old age and belly-slave in dotage. How long shall I be with you?"

CAPUT XXII. Life of Abbot Moses, who was a bandit.

There was a certain man named Moses, an Ethiopian by race, black, serving a certain person who held public office; his master cast him out because of his depravity of character and the crime of banditry. It is said that he even went as far as commit murders; for I am compelled to recount the deeds of his wickedness, so that later I may show the virtue of his repentance. Therefore some related that he had been the leader of a great band of bandits. Among his other deeds of banditry, it is also told that he had animosity and a desire for vengeance in his spirit against a shepherd who had been a hindrance to him while he was on his way to accomplish some task with his dogs. When he wished to kill him, he went looking for the place where his sheep had their station, but it was signified to him that he [the shepherd] was across the Nile. Even though the river was overflowing at that time, and extended a thousand paces in width, holding his sword in his teeth and placing the tunic he was wearing on his head, he crossed the river by swimming. However, while he was swimming across, the shepherd was able to hide himself by burying himself somewhere. ^A Since Moses’ attempt had not succeeded, he killed four prize rams, tied them with a rope, and swam back across the Nile; and when he had come to a certain small village, he skinned the rams; and when he had eaten the best of the meat, and had sold the skins for wine, he departed with about eighteen [Italian currency], to where he had his headquarters.

This prince of bandits, late at last, pricked by some incident that had happened to him, surrendered himself to a monastery; and he progressed to such great repentance, as the things themselves indicated. Among other things, it is said that when four bandits had burst in upon him while he was sitting in his cell, not knowing that he was Moses, the blessed Moses bound them as though they were sacks of straw, placed them upon his shoulders, and carried them to the church of the brothers, saying: "Since it is not permitted for me to do injury to anyone, ^B but I found them having attacked me, what do you order to be done with them?" In this way, having been captured by the holy Moses, they confessed to God. And when they realized that he was the Moses who was once a famous prince of bandits, glorifying Christ for that reason, they also renounced the world because of his repentance, and became most approved monks, thus reflecting: "If this man, who was so powerful by his strength, though he made little account of his banditries, so fears God, why do we any longer delay our own salvation?"

But blessed Moses (for thus it is fitting to call him) was subsequently attacked by demons, who forced upon him the habit of lecherous intemperance; he was tempted by them to such a degree, as he himself related, that there was little lacking for them to have deterred him from his vocation. When he had come to the great Isidore, who dwelt in Scete, he told him for the third time about the war of fornication. To whom the saint replied: "Do not be troubled, ^C my brother; these are the beginnings, and therefore they attack you more vehemently, seeking their former habit. For just as a dog, when it has become accustomed to gnawing hams in a butcher-shop, does not depart from its habit, but if the shop is closed and no one gives it anything, consumed by hunger it no longer approaches; so you too, if you persevere in your practice of self-control, 'mortifying your members which are upon the earth' (Col. 3:5), and excluding from your entrance the gluttony which brings forth intemperance, the demon, bearing it with difficulty, as one who has no food to kindle [ passions], will depart from you." When, therefore, the servant of Christ, Moses, had withdrawn, and from that hour had shut himself up in his cell, he practiced the greatest endurance in all things, but especially in abstinence from food.

forty years during which he had been baptized. For he was forty years old, the genuine servant of Christ, the immortal Macarius, when he was baptized.

The appearance of that invincible athlete of Christ, Macarius, was as follows, for his age. It is necessary for me to indicate this to you also, servant of Christ, since I knew him accurately, as my humble self had lived for a time with him. His frame was ^A short and sparse, having hairs only upon his lip; and on the tip of his chin he had a few. For, by the excess of the labors of his asceticism, not even the hairs of his beard had grown out.

I approached this holy man one day, and I said to him, as I was living in a state of deep despondency, “Abba Macarius, what shall I do, for my thoughts are troubling me, saying to me: ‘You are doing nothing; depart from here’?” The holy father Macarius answers me, saying, “Tell your thoughts: ‘Because of Christ I am guarding these walls.’” These things, O Christ-loving and studious servant of God, I have indicated to you from the many and great signs and contests of the renowned and virtuous man, Macarius.

This wondrous and admirable man, Macarius, related this to us (for he was a presbyter by the ordination of bishops), saying, “I took note during the time of the distribution of the mysteries of Christ that I had never given the offering to Macarius the ascetic, but that an angel reaching out from the altar would give it to him. I would see only the knuckle of the hand of the one giving him the communion.”

CAPUT XXI: On Marcus

Now this Marcus, being a younger man, had memorized the Old and New Testaments. He was meek to an extreme degree, and temperate if anyone ever was. One day, when I was at leisure, I went to his extreme old age and sat beside the door of his cell, as I, a beginner, considered him to be more than a human being, which indeed he was. And I listened to what on earth he was saying or what he was doing. And being all alone ^B inside, having reached nearly a hundred years of age and having lost his teeth, he was struggling with himself and with the devil, and was saying: “What do you want now, you wicked old thing? Look, you have already received wine, and you have tasted of oil. Now what more do you want me to do for you, you glutton, you belly-slave?” And then he said to the devil, “Go away, devil, from me; you have grown old with me in indifference. You have imputed to me a bodily weakness, you have made it so that I partook of wine and oil, making me a lover of pleasure. Do I still owe you anything? You find nothing in me that you wish to plunder. Depart, therefore, from me, you hater of mankind.” And as if mocking himself, he said, conversing: “Come now, you trifler, glutton, eater, how long shall I be with you?”

CAPUT XXII: On Moses the Ethiopian

There was a man called Moses, Ethiopian by race, black, who was a slave to a certain man of affairs; his own master had cast him aside on account of much waywardness and a criminal cause. For it was said that he reached even to the point of murder. For I am constrained to speak of the works of his wickedness, so that I may show his later virtue after his repentance. Some people related that he was even the leader of a very large band of robbers; and of his life, this also is told among his criminal deeds: that he bore a grudge against a certain shepherd who had hindered him in a certain affair. ^C Wishing to kill him, he went looking for the place where he kept his flock. It was revealed to him, then, that he was across the Nile; and at that time, when the river was flooding and had risen to a certain point in its width, having bitten his sword in his mouth, and having placed his shirt, which he was wearing, upon his own head, he crossed over, having swum in this way across the river. While he was swimming across, the shepherd was able to escape, having buried himself in a hidden place. Having failed in his attempt in this way, Moses slaughtered four rams and, having tied them together in a row, swam back across the Nile. And having come to a small encampment, he flayed the rams. And having eaten the best of the meat, and having sold the hides for wine, having drunk eighteen Italian [sextarii], he went off fifty miles, where he had his headquarters.

Once, in the course of time, this very brigand-chief was pierced with remorse from a certain circumstance and gave himself over to a monastery; and so he approached the business of repentance, so that he even brought his own accomplice and instigator of evils from his youth, the demon who had sinned in everything along with him, directly to the knowledge of Christ. Among these things it is said that once, robbers threw themselves upon him while he was sitting in his cell, not knowing that this was Moses. The blessed man bound them all, just like a sack full of chaff, and placed them on his own shoulders, and carried them to the church of the brothers, saying, “Since it is no longer ^D permitted for me to harm anyone, I found these men attacking me; what do you command concerning them?” These men, having been captured in this way by the holy Moses, confessed to God. And recognizing him as the once famous and notorious brigand-chief, and glorifying Christ because of him, they also renounced [the world] because of his conversion, and became the most approved monks; having reckoned this: that if this man, who was strong in power and who had perfected himself to a degree in the brigand’s trade, has so elegantly feared God, why are we delaying the salvation of our own souls?

To this blessed Moses (for he must be called such from now on) the demons of licentiousness attached themselves, driving him back to the ancient habit of his former fornication. He was tempted by them to such an extent, as he himself related, that he was nearly about to fall from his resolve. He went, therefore, to the great Isidore, who was sitting in Scetis, and reported to him concerning the war of fornication. To whom the holy man answered: “Do not be afraid, brother; these are but the beginnings. For this reason they have attacked you more severely, looking for their former habit. For just as when a dog in a butcher’s shop is accustomed to chew on joints of meat, it does not depart from the habit; but if someone closes the butcher’s shop, and no one gives it anything, then, starved, it no longer approaches there, having no food; so also you, if you persist in your asceticism of endurance, deadening your members which are upon the earth, blocking the entrance to gluttony, which gives birth to licentiousness, the demon of fornication, having no food to inflame this, will depart from you.” Having departed, then, the servant of Christ, Moses, from that hour, and having shut himself up in his cell, he practiced the greatest endurance in all things, but especially

^B you were subjugated for your own benefit, so that you might not fall through pride." Hearing this, he went away again to his cell, henceforth attending with quietness to the manner of ascetic discipline in its proper measure. After two or three months, when the ascetic Moses was questioned by the blessed Isidore the priest as to whether that spirit still troubled him, he said that from that very hour in which you, the servant of God, prayed for me, nothing of the sort has happened to me anymore. This holy man was deemed worthy of a gift over the demons; indeed, just as we despise flies in the winter, so much more did this great Moses, the wrestler against demons, despise them. This was the godly manner of asceticism of the unconquerable athlete Moses, who was by race an Ethiopian, but who had habituated his soul with divine grace. He, too, was numbered among the great achievements of the Fathers. He dies at the age of seventy-five in Scetis, having become a priest and having left behind seventy disciples.

CAPUT XXIII. Concerning Paul of Pherme.

There is a mountain in Egypt leading to the desert of Scetis, which is called Pherme. On this mountain there sit about five hundred men who are ascetics. Among them was also a certain monk named Paul, who was called "the best," who throughout the whole of his time maintained this discipline. He never touched work or any piece of business, nor did he receive anything from anyone except what he was about to eat on that very day. His work of asceticism was to pray ceaselessly. He had set for himself three hundred prayers, collecting as many pebbles, and keeping them in his bosom, and throwing away one pebble from his bosom for every prayer. This godly man, having approached the holy Macarius, who is called "the Politicus," for the sake of conversation and spiritual benefit, says to him: "Macarius, I am oppressed exceedingly." The servant of Christ therefore compelled him to say the cause for which he was grieved; and he says to him:

CAPUT XXIV. Concerning a virgin who performed seven hundred prayers.

In a certain village there dwells a virgin who has already reached her thirtieth year of asceticism; regarding whom many related to me that, except for the Sabbath or the Lord's Day, she never tastes food on any other day, but drawing out the weeks for the entire time, and eating only after five days, she performs seven hundred prayers. And I was displeased with myself, having learned this, and having considered that I, a man created with that same bodily strength, was not able to perform more than three hundred prayers. The holy Macarius answers him, saying: "I have had my sixtieth year since I began to perform one hundred appointed prayers, while working with my hands for my food, and rendering to the brothers the obligation of conversation; and my conscience does not judge me as having been negligent. But if you, while doing three hundred prayers, are judged by your conscience, it is clear that you are either not praying them purely, or that you are able to pray more and are not doing so."

CAPUT XXV. Concerning Eulogius and the man who was maimed.

Cronius the priest of Nitria related to me that, being younger at the beginning, and having fled from the monastery of the archimandrite on account of *acedia*, I wandered until I reached the mountain of Saint Anthony. I sat

as he, who would take nothing else but twelve ounces of dry bread, working greatly, and performing fifty prayers daily.

Moreover, although he had mortified his little body, he remained inflamed, especially in his sleep. And when he had arisen, he met a certain other holy and most approved monk, and said to him: "What shall I do, Abba? The dreams of the mind cast darkness upon my reason, as one who takes pleasure in them from old habit." That holy man says to him: "You have not restrained your mind from the visions that dwell within them, and for that reason you endure these things. Do therefore what I tell you. Give yourself little by little to watching, and pray soberly; and you shall quickly be freed from these things." Having heard this advice, the illustrious man, as though from one who was a master of experience, returned to his cell, and said to him, as his conscience knew, that he had not slept the whole night; that he had not knelt under the pretext of prayer, so that he might flee the tyranny of sleep.

When he had remained six years in the cell, standing the whole night in the middle of the cell, and praying to God assiduously, and not closing his eyes, he could not overcome intemperate desire. For in truth, desire cannot be easily chastised. For although he had wasted himself away with labors, he could not subdue that foul affection.

After these things, he suggested to himself another method of living an austere life. Going forth, this pugilist of Satan (for he wrestled with him in various ways) would go out by night to the cells of the monks who had grown old in labors while exercising themselves, and who could no longer bring water themselves; and taking their water-jars without their knowledge, he would fill them with water. For they had water in those places at a certain distance, some ^C at two miles, others indeed at five, others at half a mile. One night, therefore, while he was doing this, the demon who had watched him, no longer bearing the athlete's fortitude, when he had bent down into the well to fill a monk's water-jar, struck him in the loins with a certain club, and left him lying dead in that place, feeling absolutely nothing, nor knowing what nor by whom he had suffered it. When, therefore, on another day, a certain monk came to draw water, he found him lying there bereft of his senses. He reported this to the great Isidore, presbyter of Scetis. Who, going with some others, took him and brought him to the church. He felt ill for a whole year, so that his body and soul could barely recover. Then the great priest of Christ, Isidore, said to him: "Cease from now on, brother Moses, to contend with demons, and do not so insult them; for there is a measure of fortitude also in such exercise." He, however, says to him: "I will not cease to fight with them until the fantasy of dreams has ceased for me." Then the servant of Christ, Isidore the presbyter, says to him: "In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, from this moment your foul dreams will cease; from now on communicate with the sacraments with a good and confident mind ^D lest, glorying that you had overcome the affection by your own exercise, it should vehemently exert its power upon you, which it did for your benefit, ^A lest you fall into elation of mind." Having heard these things, he returned to the cell, thereafter attending with a moderate rule of exercise. But after two or three months, being asked by the blessed presbyter Isidore whether the spirit still caused him any further trouble, Moses replied: "From the hour in which the servant of Christ prayed for me, nothing of that kind has happened to me." This holy man, moreover, was deemed worthy of grace against the demons, to such a degree that, just as we despise flies in winter, so, and even more, this great Moses would despise demons. This is the religious and holy life which the unconquered athlete Moses the Ethiopian lived, who himself also was numbered among the great. He died at seventy-five years of age in Scetis, when he had been made a presbyter, leaving seventy-five disciples.

CAPUT XXIII. Life of Abbot Paul(57).

There is a mountain in Egypt, leading into the vast solitude of Scetis, which is called Pherme. In this mountain there sit about five hundred men who are exercising themselves. Among whom there was also a certain one, named Paul, an excellent monk, who lived this life for all his time. He never touched work, nor undertook any business, nor ever accepted anything from anyone, except what he could eat on that very day. His work and exercise, however, was to pray perpetually. He had three hundred prayers marked out and pre-arranged, having as many pebbles in his bosom, and in each prayer casting one pebble (58). When he had come to the holy Macarius, who is called the Politician, for the sake of meeting him, and for spiritual utility, he says to him: "Abba Macarius, I am greatly afflicted." The servant of Christ compelled him to say the cause on account of which he was afflicted. He indeed says to him:

CAPUT XXIV. Of the Virgin who said seven hundred prayers.

In a certain village lives a certain virgin, who has now been exercising herself for the thirtieth year. Of whom many have told me that, except for the Sabbath and the Lord's Day, she eats on no other day; but drawing out the weeks for the whole time, and eating after five days, she performs seven hundred prayers. When I had learned this, I reproached myself, that I, a man created with these bodily powers, could not perform more than three hundred prayers. The holy Macarius answers him, saying: "The sixtieth year is passing, since I began to do my one hundred set prayers, and working with my hands at those things which are necessary for food, and rendering to the brothers the duty of meeting, my reason does not judge me as having been negligent. If you, however, when you perform three hundred prayers, are judged by your conscience, you openly show that you are not praying purely, or that you are able to perform more prayers than you do."

CAPUT XXV. Of Cronius(59) the Presbyter.

A certain Cronius told me, a presbyter of Nitria (Ruffin., l. II, cap. 25, of Cronius a disciple of Antony): When I was, he says, a youth at the beginning, and on account of the soul's...

so that I might escape the distress and sadness from the monastery of my archimandrite, I wandered and arrived at the mountain of Saint Anthony. Now, Blessed Anthony used to sit between Babylon and Heracleopolis in a vast wilderness that leads to the Red Sea, about thirty miles from the river. When, therefore, I had come to his monastery which is near the river, where his disciples Macarius and Amatas would sit in the place called Pisper—they who even buried him when he had fallen asleep—I waited five days to meet Saint Anthony. It was said that he would come to this monastery sometimes after ten days, sometimes after twenty, and sometimes after five, according to what was expedient for the benefit of those coming to the monastery. We had therefore gathered, various brothers for various reasons: among whom was also Eulogius, an Alexandrian monk, and with him another man who was crippled in his limbs, who had come indeed for such a reason.

CAPUT XXVI. On Eulogius the Alexandrian and him who was crippled in his limbs.

This Eulogius was a scholasticus of the liberal arts, who, having been wounded by divine love, renounced worldly tumults on account of his desire for immortality; and when he had dispersed all his wealth, he kept a few coins for himself, since he could not work. When, therefore, he was inwardly distressed and sad, and neither wished to associate with others, nor could persuade himself to be alone, he found a certain man in the marketplace who was crippled and mutilated, having neither hands nor feet: only his tongue remained whole for speaking to those who happened by. Eulogius, standing and gazing upon him with fixed eyes, prayed to God, and made a pact with God in this way, saying: “Lord, for the sake of your name I receive this mutilated man, and I promise to refresh and nourish him until the hour of his death, so that I also may be saved through him. Grant me therefore, Christ, patience, that I may serve him.” And approaching him, he said to him: “Do you wish that I take you to my house, and refresh and nourish you?” He said to him: “Would that you deigned to, but I am unworthy.” “I will go, then,” he said, “and bring an ass, and carry you away from here.” And the man who was mutilated assented with great joy. He therefore took him up and carried him to his small hospice, and cared for him in all things of which he had need. For fifteen continuous years, he who was mutilated was benevolently cared for by him as a father, in such a way that he was washed, anointed, comforted, and carried in the hands of Eulogius, and was looked after far beyond his own worth, and was suitably refreshed during his illness. After fifteen years, however, a demon invaded the man who was mutilated, wishing to deprive Eulogius of his command and purpose, and the mutilated man of his nourishment and thanksgiving to God, and stirred up a sedition against Eulogius; and he began to pursue him with many insults, to such an extent that he even attacked him with curses, saying thereafter: “Get out of here, you wicked fugitive ^A. You have stolen the money of others, and plundered the household; and under my pretext you wish to hide, so that you might accept my presence in your hospice, and wish to be saved because of me.” But Eulogius would soften his heart, saying: “No, master, do not say these things; but say in what matter I have been troublesome to you, and I will correct it.” But the cripple would say arrogantly: “I cannot bear these flatteries; remove me from here, and cast me into the market; I refuse your care.” Eulogius would say: “I beg you, permit yourself to be cared for, and say if anything is burdensome to you, my master.” But the mutilated man, becoming more enraged, said to him: “I can no longer bear your deceitful and ironic adulation. This meager and wretched life does not please me; I want to eat meat.” And Eulogius, patient, brought meat to him. But when he saw it, he grew impatient: “It is not enough for me,” he said, “to be with you alone; I want to see crowds.” And Eulogius said to him: “I will now bring you a multitude of monks.” But he, again taking it ill, said: “Woe to me, a wretch! I cannot bear the sight of you; and you bring to me those like yourself, who, being idle, eat.” And tearing at himself with an insolent voice, he shouted, saying: “I will not, I will not; I want to be led to the marketplace. Oh, this violence! Cast me where you found me.” I say that if he had had hands, he would have brought himself to either suffocate himself or kill himself with a sword. When the demon had thus rendered him wild, Eulogius afterwards took himself to the neighboring monks and said to them: “What shall I do? The mutilated man has driven me to despair.” They said to him: “Wherefore?” He said: “He afflicts me grievously; nor do I know what I should do. Shall I cast him away? But I gave my right hand to God, and I am afraid. Shall I not cast him away? But he makes me miserable day and night. I do not know what I should do.” They said to him absolutely: “That great man still lives (for so they used to call Saint Anthony), ascend to him, placing the mutilated man in a boat; and take him to the monastery, and wait until the great man comes out from his cave, and refer the judgment to him, and what he tells you, abide by his sentence. For God will speak to you through him.” Eulogius followed their words, and soothing the mutilated man, when he had placed him in a pastoral boat, he went out from the city by night, and brought him to the monastery of the disciples of the great Anthony. ^B It happened, however, that the great man came another day late in the evening, as Cronius related, clothed in a sheepskin cloak. He entered, therefore, into his monastery, and this was his custom, to address Macarius, and to ask him: “Brother Macarius, have any come here?” Macarius would answer: “They have come.” The great man would say: “Are they Egyptians, or Jerusalemites?” For the great man had given him a sign, saying: “When you see some have come who have little business, say: ‘Egyptians are here.’ But when you see some have come who are more religious and a little more thoughtful, say: ‘Jerusalemites are here.’” The great man would therefore ask as usual, saying to brother Macarius: “Are these brothers Egyptians or Jerusalemites?” Macarius would answer, saying: “It is a mixture.” When, therefore, Macarius would say: “They are Egyptians,” the great man would say to him: “Prepare lentils for them, and give them something to eat.” And he would make one prayer for them, and dismiss them. But when he would say: “They are Jerusalemites,” he would sit throughout the whole night, and would say to them things

^A that were appropriate for salvation.

This blessed man, then, lived between Babylon and Heracleopolis, in the deep desert which leads toward the Red Sea, about thirty miles from the river. And when he arrived at the monastery by the river, where his disciples who also buried the blessed Antony after he fell asleep—Macarius and Amatus—were abiding in the place called Pispir, I waited five days in order to meet the holy Antony. It was said that he would visit this monastery sometimes every ten days, sometimes every twenty, and sometimes every five days, just as God led him for the benefit of those who happened to be at the monastery. We were gathered there—various brethren having various needs, among whom was a certain Eulogius, an Alexandrian monk, and with him another man who was crippled; and they had come for the following reason.

Chapter XXVI: Concerning Eulogius, and the cripple

This Eulogius had been a scholasticus among those who had received a cyclic education, who, being struck with divine love and the desire for immortality, renounced the tumults of life. And having dispersed all his possessions, he left himself a few small coins, being unable to work. So, feeling melancholy and being unwilling to enter into a group, and not being satisfied being alone, he found a certain crippled man cast out in the marketplace, who had neither hands nor feet. For him, only his tongue remained tireless for the misfortune of those who happened by. Eulogius, having stood there, gazed at him, and prayed to God, and made a covenant with God, saying: “Lord, in thy name I take this cripple, and I will give him rest until the day of his death, so that I too may be saved through him. Grant me, therefore, Christ, the endurance of the service to him.” And having approached the cripple, he says to him: “Do you wish, great one, for me to take you to the house and give you rest?” That man says to him: “If only you would deign to, but I am unworthy.” Eulogius says: “Then I will go, and bring a donkey, and I will remove you from here.” The cripple agreed with much joy. Having brought an ass, he picked him up and carried him to his own little guest-house. And he was caring for him according to all his needs. ^B And having endured for fifteen years, he was being nursed by him as a father, cared for with kindness, bathed, anointed, tended in all things, and carried by the hands of Eulogius, being guarded beyond that one's worth, yet resting appropriately from his infirmity.

But after fifteen years, a demon beset the cripple, wishing perhaps to deprive Eulogius of the commandment and the resolve, and the cripple of the rest and the thanks of the Lord. And he began to rebel against Eulogius, and began to speak blasphemies against him, so that he finally washed the man with insults, saying to him: “You wretch, you glutton, you deserter of your master, you have stolen other people’s money. And as you were perhaps a slave, you have robbed your own master; and with the pretext of me, you wish to take it, as if under the guise of fake kindness having taken me into your guest-house, and through me you wish to be saved.” But Eulogius was exhorting him, healing his heart, saying: “Do not, lord, ^C do not say such things. But tell me what I have grieved you with, and I will set it right.” The entirely crippled man said sternly: “I do not want these flatteries of yours; take me away, throw me in the marketplace near my first rest.” But Eulogius said: “I beseech you, be healed, if you are troubled, my great lord.” But the cripple, becoming wild with rage against him, said: “I no longer endure your deceitful and ironic flattery. I am not pleased with this embalmed and miserly life. I want to eat meat.” And long-suffering Eulogius brought him meat. But having seen it again, the ill-tempered man cries out: “I am not satisfied being with you alone; I want to see crowds.” Eulogius says to him: “I am now bringing you a multitude of brethren.” And he, again becoming displeased, says: “Woe to me, the miserable one, I do not want to see your face, and do you bring me your equals, the idlers?” And having torn at himself, with a discordant voice he shouted, saying: “I will not, I will not, I want to go to the market. O violence! Throw me where you found me.” I say that if he had had hands, he would not have refused even to use a noose, or to handle himself with a sword.

As the demon had thus savage-minded him, after these things Eulogius comes to the ascetics who were his neighbors, and says to them: “What shall I do, because this cripple has brought me to despair?” They say to him: “Why?” And he: “He treats me dreadfully, and what I shall do I do not know. Shall I throw him out? But I gave my right hands to God, and I fear. Should I not throw him out? But he gives me evil days and nights. I do not know what I should do to him.” They say to him, since the great one was still living (for thus they called holy Antony): “Go up to him, having put the cripple into a boat, and bring him to the monastery, and wait until the great one comes out of the cave, and tell him the matter; and whatever he says to you, abide by his judgment. For God speaks to you through him.” The obedient Eulogius agreed with them, ^D and having coaxed the cripple, put him into a cattle-boat, and went out of the city at night, and brought him to the monastery of the great Antony.

It happened on the other day that the great one came in the deep evening, as Cronius told it, wrapped in a sheepskin cloak. Coming, then, into his monastery, he was entering. And he had this habit of calling Macarius, and asking him: “Brother Macarius, have any brothers come here?” Macarius answered: “They have come.” And the great one: “Are they Egyptians or Jerusalemites?” The great one had given him a sign, saying: “Whenever you see those who are less burdened come, say that they are Egyptians; whenever you see those who are more devout and learned, say that they are Jerusalemites.” The great one, then, was asking according to his custom, saying to the disciple Macarius: “Are the brothers Egyptians, or Jerusalemites?” Macarius answered, saying to him that they are a mixture. When, then, Macarius said that they were Egyptians, the great one was saying to him: “Make them some lentils, and give them to eat,” and he would make one prayer for them and dismiss them. But when he would say that they were Jerusalemites, he would sit all night long, and would speak to them of things

^A that are conducive to salvation.

After Cronius had spent some time in the regions around Thebes, he went down to the monasteries of Alexandria. And it happened that the forty-day memorial of the blessed Eulogius was being celebrated, and the third-day memorial of him who was mutilated in body was being held by the brotherhood. Having learned of this, Cronius was amazed, and taking the Gospel into his hands for the sake of the faith of those who were listening, he placed it in the midst of the brothers and swore to them, explaining the foreknowledge of the great Anthony regarding them, and regarding all the things that had happened, saying that he himself had been the interpreter of all these words, since the blessed Anthony did not know Greek. For I understood both languages, and I interpreted for them: what had been said by the great one to the blessed Eulogius and to him who was mutilated in body was interpreted into Greek; and what had been said by both of them to the all-holy and blessed and great Anthony was interpreted into Egyptian.

75. Chapter XXVII: On the contemplation seen by Abbot Anthony

And Cronius also related this: that on the night when he had calmed them and dismissed those who were with the blessed Eulogius, the great one was telling us that, “For a whole year I prayed that the place of the righteous and of the sinners might be revealed to me.” And I saw a ^B long black giant, reaching up to the clouds, and beneath him was a sea as far as the eye could see, and I saw souls flying up like birds. And as many as were saved from the giant’s hands and head were carried off by angels. But those which were being struck by the giant’s hands were falling into the lake. “Then,” he said, “a voice came to me saying: ‘These souls which you see flying over the head of the giant and his hands, these are the souls of the righteous, which are saved by the angels into paradise. But those that are struck by the black hands are those that are plunged into Hades, having been subjected to the desires of the flesh and having followed after malice.’”

Chapter XXVIII: On Paul the Simple

And the holy servant of Christ, Hierax, and this Cronius, and many other of the brothers told of the one about whom I am about to speak: that a certain Paul, a country farmer, ^C exceptionally innocent and simple in his manner, was wed to a woman of very wicked character, who had deceived him by committing adultery for a very long time. Having left his field suddenly and come to his house, he found them committing shameful acts—as Providence was leading Paul toward what was beneficial. And having seen her with her regular partner, he laughed quietly and remarked to them, saying, “Very well, very well; truly, it is no concern of mine. By Jesus, I am not taking her anymore. Go, you have her and her children; for as for me, I am going away to become a monk.” And without having said anything to anyone, he traveled eight miles and went to the blessed ^D Anthony, and knocked at the door. The blessed Anthony came out and asked him, “What do you want?” Paul said to him, “I want to become a monk.” Anthony answered

[THE HISTORIA LAUSIACA]

[†] ^A regarding those things that pertain to salvation. Sitting, then, that evening, the great man summoned them all. And when no one had told him what the name of the scholasticus was, when evening was late, he called him, saying: "Eulogius, Eulogius, Eulogius." And when he had called out three times, and the scholasticus Eulogius did not answer, thinking someone else was being called by this name, the great man said to him: "I am speaking to you, Eulogius, who have come from Alexandria." Then Eulogius said to him: "What do you command, I pray?" The great man said to him: "Why have you come here?" Eulogius answered him, saying: "He who revealed my name to you also revealed the matter for which I came." Saint Anthony said to him: "I have learned why you have come; but speak before the brothers, so that they too may hear it." Being ordered by the great man, Eulogius said before everyone: "I found this crippled man in the forum, cast out and held in neglect. Being moved with pity for him, I prayed to God that He might give me the grace of patience toward him, and I took him up. I also gave my right hand to God, that I would provide for him in his illness, so that I myself might be saved through him, and he might be refreshed by me. It has been fifteen years since we have lived together, as even all things were revealed to your holiness. But I do not know what evil I have suffered from him, for after so many years he vexes me extremely, and I have had it in my mind to cast him out, as he himself compels me to do. For that reason I have come to your holiness, that you might counsel me what I ought to do, and pray for me; for he vexes me grievously."

The great Anthony said to him with a grave and austere voice: "Do you cast him out, Eulogius? Yet He who created him does not cast him out. If you cast him out, God will raise up for him someone better than you who will take him up." Eulogius fell silent, and trembled when he heard these things. But having left Eulogius, the great Anthony began to scourge the crippled man with his tongue, and to cry out to him: "You cripple, you defiled one, unworthy of earth and heaven, do you not cease to fight with God and to provoke your brother? Do you not know that it is Christ who serves you? How do you dare to speak these things against Christ? Has he not enslaved himself to your service for Christ's sake?" When he had restrained them with chiding words, he dismissed them; and when he had spoken with the brothers about the things necessary for each one, he approached Eulogius and the cripple again, and said to them: "Do not linger anywhere, O brothers, but go in peace, and do not be separated from one another, having laid aside all the trouble that the demon has cast upon you; and with good love return to the cell in which you have dwelt for a long time; for soon God will send to you. For this temptation has been stirred up against you by Satan, because he knows that you have now reached the end, and that it is to be that you receive crowns from Christ, he through you, and you through him. Therefore think of nothing else. For if the coming angel does not find you in the same place, it will come to pass that you will be deprived of the crowns." Hastening quickly, therefore, they entered and came to their cell with perfect charity. And within forty days, the blessed Eulogius died, passing to the Lord, and within three other days, he died who was crippled in body, but firm and robust in soul, who himself ^B also commended his spirit into the hands of God.

When Cronius, therefore, had spent some time around the regions of the Thebaid, he descended to the monastery of Alexandria, and it happened that the fortieth day after the death of the blessed Eulogius was being celebrated by the fraternity, and the third day since the death of the cripple. When Cronius had learned this, he was astonished; and having taken the Gospel—so that those listening might have faith—he placed it in the midst of the brothers; and he swore to them, narrating the prescience of the great Anthony concerning these things, and concerning all the things that had occurred, and saying: "I was the interpreter of these words, because the blessed Anthony did not know Greek; I for my part knew both languages, and I interpreted for them: for the blessed ones thereafter through the grace of Christ, I interpreted in Greek what had been said by the great Anthony to Eulogius and the man crippled in body; and to the holy and blessed and great Anthony himself, I interpreted in Egyptian what had been said by both."

CHAPTER XXVII. De contemplatione quam vidit abbas Antonius.

This also Cronius narrated to them that night, that the great Anthony had said: "I," he used to say, "had prayed for a whole year that the place of the just and the sinners might be revealed to me. I saw a black giant, most tall, who reached even to the clouds; he had his hands extended even to heaven; beneath, however, was a lake which equaled the sea in size. I saw also souls flying upward like birds; and whichever ones flew over his hands and head were saved by the angels; but those that were struck by his hands fell into the lake." And so a voice reached me that said: "The souls you see that have flown over the head of the giant and his hands, these are the souls of the just, which are indeed saved by the angels in paradise; but those that are struck by the hands of the black one, these are submerged into hell." These, indeed, had been drawn by the will of the flesh, and had followed hatred and the desire for returning injury.

Chapter XXVIII. Life of the abbot Paul the Simple.

But the holy servant of Christ, Hierax, and Cronius, and many others of the brothers narrated those things which I am about to tell, that a certain rustic farmer, remarkably innocent and simple in manner, had taken a wife, a most beautiful woman, but wicked in her habits, who for a very long time had hidden her sinning from him. But once, having returned unexpectedly from the field, and having entered his house, he found them perpetrating base deeds, with Providence leading the simple Paul to what was profitable for him. And when he had seen her, with him with whom she had the habit of debauchery, he laughed honestly and gracefully, and cried out to them, saying: "It is well, it is well, truly it is no concern of mine. By Jesus, I will not take her again; go, have her for yourself and her children; for I withdraw, and become a monk." And when he had said nothing to anyone, he crossed over eight mansions and went to holy Anthony, and knocked at the door. And holy Anthony having come out, when he asked: "What do you want?" And he says [to him]

"I want to become a monk." Anthony answers him: "A man of sixty years cannot become a monk here; but rather go away to the village, and work, and lead a working life, giving thanks to God. For you cannot endure the afflictions of the solitude." The old man answers and says: "If you will teach me anything, I will do it." Anthony says to him: "I told you that you are an old man and cannot be a monk; go away. For if you wish to be a monk, enter a monastery where there are many brothers who can bear your weakness. For I sit here alone, eating once every five days, and that feeling hungry." With these words, therefore, he kept driving Paul away. But after he did not admit him, with the door shut, Anthony did not go out for three days, because of him, not even for his own needs. But the old man remained without departing. On the fourth day, however, when necessity pressed him, he opened the door and went out. And when he saw Paul again, he says to him: "Go away from here, old man. Why are you troublesome to me? You cannot stay here." Paul says: "It is not possible that I should die anywhere other than here." But when Anthony had looked, and had seen that he could not bear what was necessary for sustenance—no bread, no water, nothing else—and that he had already persevered fasting for the fourth day, he thought to himself: "Lest he perhaps die, as one who is not accustomed to fasting, and I defile my soul." Therefore he admitted him.

Then Anthony says to him: "You can be saved if you possess obedience, and do what you hear from me." But Paul, answering, said: "I will do whatever you command." And Anthony undertook for those days such a manner of harsh life as he had when he was in the beginning of his youth. Testing his mind, therefore, Anthony said to him: "Stay, and pray in this place, until I go in, and bring you what you may work on." Having entered the cave, through the window he observed him remaining immobile in that place for the whole week, while he was scorched by the heat. Having gone out after the week, when he had moistened palm branches, he says to him: "Take, and weave a rope as you see me do." The old man wove until the ninth hour fifteen cubits with great labor. But when Anthony saw what he had woven, it pleased him not at all, and he says to him: "You have woven badly; unravel it, and weave it anew," although he was already spending his seventh day fasting, and he at an advanced age. He afflicted him so much for this reason that the old man, bearing it with difficulty, fled from Anthony and from the life of monks. But he [Anthony] unwove the same branches, and wove them again with much labor, because they had become wrinkled from the first weaving. When, therefore, the great Anthony saw that he had neither murmured, nor cast down his soul, nor turned his face away at all, and had not been angry even the slightest bit, he was touched on his account. And with the sun setting, he says to him: "Little father, do you wish us to eat a morsel of bread?" Paul says to him: "As it seems good to you, abba." This too, in turn, moved Anthony, because he did not run immediately at the mention of food, but granted him the power. "Prepare, therefore," he said, "the table"; and he obeyed. Anthony brings bread, and places on the table four dry loaves, of six ounces [each]; and for himself he moistened one; for indeed they were dry; for the others there were three. Anthony chants the psalm he knew; and when he had chanted it twelve times, he prayed twelve times so that in this also he might test Paul. The old man, however, prayed along with the great Anthony himself, more promptly and more eagerly. For he preferred, as I judge, to feed scorpions than to live one [day] with an adulteress. But after twelve prayers, the great Anthony says to Paul: "Sit," he says, "and do not eat until evening; but only attend to the food." But when it was evening, and Paul had not eaten, Anthony said to him: "Rise, pray, and sleep." But he, having left the table, did so. In the middle of the night, however, he roused him for prayer, and drew out the prayers until the ninth hour. The table being set again, when he had also chanted again and prayed, they sat down late in the evening to eat. When, therefore, the great Anthony had eaten one dry loaf, he did not touch another. But the old man, eating slowly, was still holding the dry loaf that he had begun. Therefore Anthony was waiting until he had finished, and says to him: "Eat, little father, also another dry loaf." Paul says to him: "If you eat, I also will eat; but with you not eating, neither will I eat." Anthony says to him: "It is enough for me, for I am a monk." And he: "It is enough for me too; for I also wish to become a monk." He rises again, and performs twelve prayers, and chants twelve psalms. And after the prayers of the first sleep they sleep a little; and back they wake to chant from midnight until daybreak. ^A

Then he sent him to fulfill the solitude, saying to him: "Come here after three days." When this had been done, and certain brothers had come to him, Paul was observing Anthony, what he might wish him to do. He, however, said to him: "Keeping silent, serve the brothers; and do not taste anything until the brothers have gone out again." But after the third week had already been completed since Paul had not eaten, the brothers asked him: "For what reason are you silent?" And when he did not answer, Anthony says to him: "Why are you silent? Converse with the brothers." He, however, conversed. When at some time a jar of honey had been brought to him, Anthony said to him: "Break the vessel, and let the honey be poured out." And he did so. And he says to him again: "Gather the honey again with a shell, so that you do not bring in any filth." And again he ordered him to draw water the whole day. And again, when he had unstitched his garment, he ordered him to sew it. Finally, this man possessed such obedience that there was even given to him grace from God, namely that he might cast out demons. When, therefore, the great Anthony saw that the old man was prompt to follow in everything in the discipline of life, he says to him: "See, brother, if you can be so daily, stay with me." Paul says to him: "Whether you can show me anything more, I do not know. For those things which I saw done by you, I also do easily and without labor, with God giving me help." Then Anthony says to him another day: "In the name of Jesus, behold you have become a monk." Now when the great and blessed Anthony had found more than enough in everything that his soul was a servant of Christ most perfect, as one who was entirely simple; after certain months,

^A he set a psalm which he knew, and having chanted it the twelfth time, he prayed the twelfth time, so that in this way also he might test Paul. But the old man prayed with greater zeal along with the great one. For he preferred, I suppose, to tend scorpions rather than live with an adulteress... And after the twelve prayers, he said to him: "Come, take a share of the food." And when he had set out a table and the provisions, he said, "Sit down, and do not eat until evening, but attend only to the victuals." When it was evening, and Paul had not yet eaten, Anthony said to him: "Arise, give thanks, and sleep." He, leaving the table as it was, did likewise. And at the middle of the night, he woke him for prayer, and prolonged the prayers until the ninth hour of the day. And having set out a table again, he ordered him to take a share, and they sat down to eat when it was late in the evening. The great Anthony then ate one piece of hardtack and touched nothing else. But the old man, eating more slowly, still had the piece of hardtack he had begun with; Anthony therefore waited until he finished, and said to him: "Eat, my little father, and another piece of hardtack." Paul said to him: "If you eat, I also will; but if you do not eat, I will not eat." Anthony said to him: "It is enough for me; for I am a monk." Paul replied to the great one: "It is enough for me also. For I too wish to become a monk." They rise again, and he performs twelve prayers, and chants twelve psalms. And after the prayers they sleep for a little of the first sleep, and again they rise to chant from midnight until day.

^A ...to him: "You are an old man, ^B and you cannot become a monk here; but rather go away to a village, and work, and live a life of labor, giving thanks to God. For you cannot endure the afflictions of the desert." The old man answers again and says: "Whatever you teach me, that I will do." Anthony says to him: "I have told you that you are an old man, and cannot live as a monk. Go away. If, however, you wish to be a monk, go into a coenobium of many brothers, who are able to bear with your weakness. For I sit here alone, eating every five days, and that while starving." With these and suchlike words he tried to drive Paul away. And when he would not endure him, Anthony closed the door and did not go out for three days on his account, nor even for his own needs. But the old man remained without departing. On the fourth day, therefore, necessity forcing him, he opened the door and went out. And seeing him, he says again to Paul: "Go away from here, old man; why do you pester me? You cannot stay here." Paul says to him: "It is impossible for me to die anywhere else but here." Anthony, looking around then, and seeing that he carries nothing for food, neither bread, nor water, nor anything else, and that he has endured a fast for the fourth day, the great Anthony reasoned that perhaps he might even die, being inexperienced in fasting, and might stain my soul. He takes him in, therefore, then. Anthony said to him: "You can be saved, if you have obedience, and whatever you hear from me, this you will do." Paul, answering, said: "I will do everything that you command." And Anthony undertook such a way of harsh discipline in those days as he did not even in the beginning of his youth. ^C But testing his purpose, Anthony said to him: "Stand and pray in this place, until I go out and bring you work that you may do." And having entered into the cave, he kept watch on him through a window, as he remained motionless in that place for the whole week, scorched under the heat. And having soaked palm leaves, he says to him: "Take them, and weave a rope, as you see me do." The old man weaves until the fifteenth cubit with much toil. But the great Anthony, seeing the weaving, was displeased, and coming to him, said: "You have not woven well; unweave it, and weave it again from the top." Being a faster, who had been on the fourth day, and a man of advanced age, he laid such labor upon him, so that the old man, burdened, might flee from Anthony and the life of the monks. But he both unwove it and again wove the same palm leaves, even more difficult because they were frayed from the first weaving. The great Anthony, therefore, seeing that the old man neither grumbled, nor became faint-hearted, nor was for a moment angered, nor did he even twist his face at all, was moved with compassion for him. And at sunset, Anthony says to him: "Little father, do you wish that we eat a piece of bread?" Paul says to him: "As it seems good to you, abba." And this again bent Anthony further, that he did not run eagerly to the announcement of food, but permitted the authority to him. "Place then," says Anthony to the old man, "the table," and he obeyed. Anthony brings bread and places on the table four pieces of hardtack, each weighing about six ounces. And for himself he ^D dipped one (for they were dry), and for him three. And Anthony chanted a psalm which he knew, and having chanted it the twelfth time, he prayed the twelfth time, so that in this way also he might test Paul. But the old man prayed with greater zeal along with the great one. For he preferred, I suppose, to tend scorpions rather than live with an adulteress... And after the twelve prayers, he said to him: "Come, take a share of the food." And when he had set out a table, and the provisions, "Sit down," he says, "and do not eat until evening, but attend only to the victuals." When evening came, and Paul had not eaten, Anthony says to him: "Arise, give thanks, and sleep." He, leaving the table, did likewise. And at the middle of the night he wakes him for prayer, and prolonged the prayers until the ninth hour of the day. Having set out a table again, he ordered him to take a share, and they sat down to eat when it was late in the evening. The great Anthony having eaten the one piece of hardtack, he touched no other. But the old man, eating more leisurely, still had of the hardtack with which he started; Anthony therefore waited until he should finish, and says to him: "Eat, my little father, and another piece of hardtack." Paul says to him: "If you eat, I also will; but if you do not eat, I do not eat." Anthony says to him: "It is sufficient for me; for I am a monk." Paul answers the great one: "It is sufficient for me also. For I too wish to become a monk." They rise again, and he performs twelve prayers, and chants twelve psalms. And after the prayers they sleep for a little of the first sleep, and again they rise to chant from midnight until day.

Afterward he sent him to go about in the desert, saying to him: "After three days, come back here." And this having happened, and certain brothers having come to him, Paul waited on Anthony to see what he would command him to work at. Anthony said to him, "In silence, serve the brothers, and taste of nothing until the brothers have journeyed on." But when finally the third week was completed, Paul not having eaten, the brothers asked him, "For what reason are you silent?" And when he did not answer, Anthony says to him: "Why are you silent? Converse with the brothers." And he conversed. At another time, a jar of honey having been brought to him, Anthony said to him: "Break the vessel, and let the honey be poured out." He did so; and he says to him: "Gather the honey again." He did so; and he says to him: "Gather the honey again with a little spoon from the top, so that you do not bring in any dirt." And again he ordered him to draw water every day. And having torn his garment, he ordered him to sew it, and again he sewed it. And the man acquired such obedience, that there was even given to him from God the casting out of demons. When therefore the great Anthony saw the old man following him eagerly in all things into the way of asceticism, he says to him again: "See, brother, if you can do thus every day, stay with me." Paul says to him: "If you have anything more ever to show me, I do not know, since these things which I saw you doing, I do also easily." Then Anthony says to him the next day: "In the name of the Lord, behold, you have become a monk." The blessed and great Anthony, having been convinced to an extreme degree in all things concerning him, that the servant of Christ, Paul, who was entirely simple, was perfect in soul...

^A and very simple, after a few months, with the grace of God co-operating, blessed Anthony built a cell for him about three or four miles from his own cell. And he said to him: "Behold, with the power of Christ co-operating with you, you have become a monk. Remain here by yourself, therefore, so that you may also gain experience of demons." Having lived by himself for a year, Paul the Simple was deemed worthy of the gift against demons and diseases of every kind, having attained to the summit of the virtue of asceticism.

6. One of the days, therefore, a young man was brought to blessed Anthony who was being tormented most terribly by a very wicked princely demon, who was even blaspheming heaven itself. The great Anthony, having paid attention to the young man, said to those who were bringing him: "This is not my work. For I have not yet been deemed worthy of the gift against this order of princely demons, but this gift belongs to Paul the Simple." Blessed Anthony went, therefore, to the proven Paul, brought them along, and said to him: "Abba Paul, cast this demon out of the man, so that he may depart in health and glorify the Lord." Paul said to him: "But what of you?" Anthony said to him: "I am not at leisure; I have other work." And leaving the boy there, the great Anthony returned again to his own cell. The guileless old man, having risen and prayed an effective prayer, called the one possessed by the demon and said: "Abba Anthony says, 'Come out of the man, so that he may glorify the Lord in health.'" The demon, however, cried out with blasphemy: "I will not come out, you glutton, you trifler." Taking his sheepskin, he then began to strike him on the back, saying: "Come out, Abba Anthony said so." The demon was reviling Anthony even more fiercely than Paul, saying: "These eaters of everything, these drowsy ones, these insatiable ones, who are never satisfied with their own—what do you have in common with us? Why do you torment us?" Finally, Paul said to him: "Are you coming out, or shall I go and tell Christ? By Jesus, if you do not come out, I am going now to tell Christ, and woe to you for what He will do to you." The ferocious demon even blasphemed against Jesus, crying out: "I will not come out." Because of this, Saint Paul was angered at the demon; he went out of his lodging in the very stable heat of midday. The heat of the Egyptians, especially in those places, is perhaps akin to the furnace of Babylon. Standing, therefore, like a pillar—the pillar of heaven—upon the rock on the mountain, he prayed, saying thus: "You see, Jesus Christ, who were crucified under Pontius Pilate, that I shall not step down from this rock, nor eat, nor drink, until I die—unless You now hear me and cast this demon out of the man, and make him free from this unclean spirit." While the simple and humble-minded Paul was still speaking to Jesus, before the words of his pure mouth were finished, the demon cried out below toward the cell: "I am going! I am going! ^B I am coming out! I am being driven away by force and tyranny; I am departing from the man, I will draw near no more." The humility and simplicity of Paul drives me away and puts me to flight; the spirit of the demon was changed into a huge dragon of about seventy cubits. And it went away, dragging itself into the Red Sea, so that what was spoken by the Holy Spirit might be fulfilled: "A righteous man will declare his faith under examination." And again in another place: "Upon whom shall I look," says the Lord, "if not upon him who is humble and quiet, and who trembles at my words?" For typically, the more humble of the demons are cast out by those who are princely in faith, but the princely demons, in turn, are put to flight by the humble. These are the miracles of the simple and humble-minded one, and others more and greater than these. He was called "the Simple" by the entire brotherhood.

CAPUT XXIX: On Pachon

^C Pachon by name, having reached about seventy years, was residing in Scetis. It happened that I, being troubled by the demon and oppressed by female desire, was distressed, both in my thoughts and in nocturnal fantasies. And having come near to departing from the desert because of this temptation, the passion driving me most violently (for I had not confided the matter to the neighbors among the Fathers, nor to my teacher Evagrius; but having secretly traveled into the deep desert, I met with the fathers at Scetis who had grown old in the desert. Among them, I also encountered Pachon. Finding him, therefore, more innocent and more ascetic, I had the courage to entrust to him the affairs of my mind. And this holy man said to me: "Let not the matter surprise you. For are you not suffering this from despondency? Both the place and the scarcity of necessities and the fact that there are no meetings with women here testify in your favor. But rather, from the zeal for virtue, this happens to you from the adversary. For the war of fornication is threefold. For sometimes the flesh attacks us, being well-disposed; sometimes the passions rise up against us through thoughts; and sometimes the demon himself torments us through envy. For I, having observed much, have discovered this. Behold, as you see me, a man of advanced years; I have stayed in this cell for the fortieth year, caring for my own salvation; and even now, at this age, I am being tempted." And he swore, saying that for twelve years, after my fiftieth year, it allowed me no respite, day or night, attacking me. ^D Having suspected, therefore, that God had forsaken me, and that I was being oppressed in this way, I chose to die foolishly rather than to behave shamefully through a passion of the body. And having gone out of my cell, and wandering through the desert, I found the cave of a hyena; into which cave I placed myself naked by day, so that the beasts might come out and eat me. As evening therefore came, according to what is written: "The sun knew its setting. You appointed darkness, and it became night. In it, all the beasts of the forest will prowl. The cubs roaring to snatch and seek their food from God." The beasts having come out at that hour, both the male and the female smelled me, and having licked me from my feet to my head. And as I expected to be eaten, I with-

With the help of God’s grace, the blessed Anthony makes him a cell three or four stones away from his own. And he says to him: “Behold, by the power of Christ helping you, you have become a monk; remain here apart, so that you may also test yourself against the demons.” Now when Paul the Simple had lived by himself for a year, he was granted the grace to contend against demons and all kinds of diseases, conducting himself perfectly in the virtue of asceticism.

One day, a young man who was being harassed extremely severely by a demon was brought to the blessed Anthony, possessed by a principal and most savage demon, ^A one who pursued even heaven itself with curses and insults. So, when the great Anthony had observed the young man, he says to those who were leading him, “This is not my work; for against this order of demons—namely, a principal one—I have not yet been gifted with the grace; rather, this is the grace of Paul the Simple.” So the great Anthony went off to the most approved Paul, brought them along as well, and says to him, “Abba Paul, cast out this demon from this man, that he may return to his home healthy and glorify the Lord.” Paul says to him, “But what about you?” Anthony says, “I have no leisure; I have other work to do.” And leaving the boy there, the great Anthony returned to his cell. When the innocent old man had risen and poured forth an effective prayer, he says, provoking the demoniac, “Abbas Anthony says: ‘Come out of the man.’” But the demon shouted with insults and curses, saying, “I will not come out, you glutton, you trifling old man.” ^B Having taken his sheepskin cloak, he began to beat him upon the back, saying, “Come out, Abbas Anthony said so.” But the demon followed Paul and Anthony with curses: “You gluttons in your old age, you decaying, insatiable men who are never content with your own, what do you have in common with us? Why do you exercise tyranny over us?” Finally, Paul says to him, “Either you will come out, or I will go and tell Christ, and He will cause you to suffer woe.” But that relentless demon attacked even Jesus with insults and curses, crying out, “I will not come out.” For that reason, Paul, indignant at the demon, went out from his lodging in the very heat of midday; for the heat of the Egyptians has an affinity with the furnace of Babylon. Standing, then, the holy old man, like a column upon a rock, prays to Christ, saying, “You see, Jesus Christ, You who were crucified under Pontius Pilate, that I will not descend from this rock, nor will I eat or drink until I die, unless You hear me now, and cast this demon out of the man, and deliver him from the unclean spirit.” While simple and humble Paul was still speaking to Jesus, before he had himself ^C finished his prayers, the demon cried out, saying: “I yield, I yield, I am forced to come out, and by tyranny I am expelled; I depart from the man, I will no longer approach him. The simplicity and humility of Paul expel me, and I do not know where to go.” And immediately the demon went out, and transformed into a huge dragon of about seventy cubits, and departed crawling into the Red Sea, so that what was said by the Holy Spirit might be fulfilled: “The just man will announce (Prov. XI).” And again elsewhere: “Upon whom shall I look, says the Lord, if not upon the meek and humble and him who trembles at my words (Isa. LXVI)?” For lesser demons are accustomed to being cast out of men by those who have principal faith, while principal demons, in turn, are accustomed to being chased away by the humble. These are the miracles of holy Paul the Simple and humble, and many others even greater than these. He was called “the Simple” by the whole fraternity.

CHAPTER XXIX. Life of Abbot Pachon (70).

Some man named Pachon, when he had reached his seventieth year, was dwelling in Scete. Now it happened that I, being harassed by the affection of female longing and by nocturnal thoughts and visions, was enduring it with difficulty. And when I was not far from leaving the desert on account of this temptation, because this disturbance of my mind was distressing me most vehemently, I did not disclose the matter to my neighbors, nor even to my master Evagrius [In some manuscripts, Eulogius]; ^D but, secretly coming into the desert, I spent fifteen days with the old fathers who were living in the wilderness, who were in Scete. Among whom I also fell in with the holy man Pachon. Therefore, when I found him to be more sincere and more experienced in asceticism, I dared to open my mind to him. That holy man said to me: “Do not let this seem to you a strange and alien thing; for this is not happening to you on account of luxury, ease, or negligence. For your way of life bears witness to you, as does the scarcity of those things which are necessary, and the fact that you have no custom here with women; but rather, this is happening to you from the adversary on account of your pursuit of virtue. For there is a triple enemy that drives one to fornication. For sometimes the flesh attacks us, being luxurious and treated too softly and delicately; at other times, movements of the mind rise up within us on account of thoughts; and at other times the demon himself exercises tyranny over us on account of envy; for I too, observing many things, have found this. Behold me, as you see, an old man; although I have already spent the fortieth year in this cell, caring for my salvation, and have reached this age, I am tempted even to this present day.” And he swore, saying, “For twelve years since I passed my fiftieth year, not a day or night has passed in which he has not attacked me.” Since, therefore, I had suspected that God had withdrawn from me, inasmuch as the demon was using so much power against me, I had chosen rather to die without reason than to conduct myself basely through vice and the affection of the body. And having gone out from my cell, and traversing the wilderness, I found a hyaena’s cave. Into which cave I cast myself naked all day, so that the beasts, having come out, might devour me. But after it was evening, as it is written, “The sun has known its setting. You have appointed darkness, and it has become night. In it all the beasts of the forest will pass. The lion’s whelps roaring to snatch and seek their food from God (Ps. CIII).” Therefore, when the beasts came out at that hour, both the male and the female, they smelled me from my feet to my head, licking me all over. And when I was waiting

that I might be devoured, they withdrew from me. When, therefore, I had lain there all night, I was not devoured. Thinking, therefore, that God had entirely spared me, I arose. I returned again to my cell. But when the demon had restrained himself for a few days, he attacked me more vehemently than before, so that I was very near to blaspheming. For2 having been transformed into an Ethiopian girl, whom I had seen in my youth gathering stalks in the summertime, she appeared to me to be sitting on my knees; and she moved me to such a degree that I thought I had committed fornication with her. Driven by fury, therefore, I struck her a blow with my fist; and thus she vanished. But believe me when I say this: for two years I could not bear the stench of my hand. When, therefore, I had escaped from this cause of small and wretched spirit, and had cast away every hope for myself, I went out, wandering through the vast wilderness, and found a small viper. When I had taken it, I applied it to my genitals, so that I might die by such a bite; and when I had placed its head to my privates, so that they might be the cause of temptation to me, not even then was I bitten, by the providence of grace. But after these things I heard a voice saying to me in my thought: "Go, Pachon, struggle; for I have permitted such great power to be exercised upon you so that your spirit might not be too proud and arrogant, as if you yourself could overcome this affection: but that you might acknowledge your own weakness, and in the manner of your life never have confidence, but take refuge in the help of God." Being thus admonished and confirmed, I returned to my cell, and thereafter sat with confidence, and, bearing no concern of battle, I spent the remaining days in peace. But the demon, when he had recognized my despising of him, struck with shame thereafter, did not approach me again. With these words, when he had confirmed me for the struggle against Satan, and had instructed me for war, and had prepared and taught me against the demon of fornication, he dismissed me, commanding me to conduct myself with a brave spirit in all things.

Chapter XXX. The Life of Abbot Stephen.

Stephen, a man of Libyan origin, resided for sixty years near the side of Marmarica and Mareotis. Since he had been thoroughly exercised in training, and was endowed with the power of discernment, he attained this grace, that whoever met with him, by whatever trouble he was tormented, that person would depart from him free of trouble. He was also known to the blessed Antony. He lived, moreover, even to our own times; and I, indeed, did not meet with him because of the length of the journey: but the holy Ammonius and Evagrius, who did meet with him, recounted that they found him having fallen into such a disease in the very region of his testicles, and that the tip of the penis had ulcerated with a cancer, which is called *phagedaena*. They said that they found him while he was being treated by a certain physician. He worked with his hands; he was weaving palm branches, and was even speaking with us: but a surgeon was applying his hand to the rest of his body. By the grace of God, he was endowed with such patience that he appeared to be affected in the same way ^A as if the body of another were being cut; and when his limbs were being severed, just as if they were unfeeling hairs, he remained so immutable, so insignificantly and admirably was ^B he instructed by God. But when we, he said, were partly grieved, and partly terrified, that such a life of such a great man had fallen into such a disease, and such cuttings of physicians, the blessed Stephen, having perceived our thoughts, said to us: "Do not be offended by this thing, O sons; for nothing that God does, does He ever do for an evil, but for a good end. For perhaps the members deserved punishment, and it is better to provide penance for them here than after our departure from this stadium." Since he had thus exhorted us, and confirmed us with words for tolerance, he edified us to bear afflictions bravely. I have recounted these things, lest it seem strange to us when we see some holy men ^B falling into such calamities.

Chapter XXXI. Concerning Valens who fell away.

There was a certain Valens, Palestinian in origin but Corinthian in mind; for the holy Paul attributes the vice of inflation to the Corinthians, saying: "And you are inflated" (1 Cor. 5). Who, when he had come into the wilderness, also lived with us for many years. He proceeded, however, to such a degree of pride that he was deceived by demons. For from that which he was gradually deceived, he brought it about that he himself thought magnificently and excellently of himself, as if angels were associating with him, and were serving him in individual ministries. Certainly one day, as they were recounting, when he was working in the dark, he lost the needle with which he was accustomed to weave his basket. When he himself had not found it, the demon made a lamp for him, and he found the needle. By this name once again inflated, he assumed a magnificent opinion of himself, and he was elated to such a degree that he even despised the very communion of the Sacraments. But when Christ the Lord had mercy on him, He provided that his detriment would quickly become manifest to the whole fraternity. It happened that certain arriving guests brought sweetmeats to the fraternity in the church. But when our holy presbyter Macarius had received them, he sent about a handful to each one in his cell, among whom was Valens. When Valens had received it, he treated him who had brought it with insult, and beat him, and says to him: "Go, and say to Macarius: 'I am not inferior to you, that you should send blessings to me.'" When the holy Macarius had therefore recognized that he was seduced, he approached one day afterward to exhort him. And he says to him: "Valens, you have been deluded, cease, and pray to God." But after he did not listen to his admonitions, he withdrew very much afflicted and ^C grieving on account of Valens' ruin. When, therefore, the demon had persuaded himself certainly that he had primarily placed faith in his deception, he departs, and puts on the figure of the Savior, and at night arrives in a phantasm, with a thousand angels holding lamps, and a fiery wheel, in which he seemed to express the figure of the Savior. And one of them goes before him and says: "Christ has loved your institution, and your liberty of living and your confidence, and has come that He might see you; go forth, therefore, from your cell, and do nothing else, but when you see Him from afar, bowing down, adore Him, and

enter into your cell.” Valens therefore went out, and beholding the array of torchbearers, at a distance of a stadium from the Antichrist, he fell and worshipped. To such a degree, then, was the deluded man deranged, that on the next day he came to the ^A church, and when the whole brotherhood was gathered together, for his limbs were accountable to the Lord for punishment, and it is better to pay the penalty here than after the departure from the stadium here below. Having thus exhorted us, and strengthened us with such words of patience, he built us up to persevere in afflictions. I have recounted these things, that we may not be surprised when we see certain holy men fallen into such grievous sufferings.

Chapter XXXI: On Valens

There was a certain Valens, by race a Palestinian, in mind a Corinthian, puffed up in his understanding. For the blessed Apostle Paul, writing to the Corinthians, attached this passion of pride to them, saying, "And ye are puffed up" (1 Cor. V, 2). This very Valens, having reached the desert, dwelt with us for many years; who, having lived in great austerity, and having attained the peak of the life of asceticism, being lured by the demon of conceit and vanity, leaped to the peak of the pinnacle of pride, so as to be deceived by demons. For, being puffed up by that deadly passion of self-conceit, by degrees he deceived his own mind and prepared it to think highly of itself, as if angels were meeting with him and preparing for him things for every service. One day, then, as his associates related, while he was working at his baskets in the deep evening, there being darkness, he dropped his needle, having thrown it on the floor where he was weaving the baskets. And as he could not find it, the demon made a lamp to appear to him, and thus he found the needle he had lost. And again, having been puffed up with a vain swelling, and for this reason being further pricked by vanity, he thinks great things. And the wretch was so puffed up, that he even despised the very mysteries of Christ. ^B It happened that certain strangers had brought some dried fruit into the church to the brotherhood. The Lord Macarius the priest of ours, therefore, distributed it to each one in his cell, and also sent some to this Valens. Valens therefore received it, and insulted and struck the one who brought it, and says to him, "Go away and say to Macarius: 'I am not inferior to you, that you should send me blessings.'" The holy Macarius, therefore, having learned that he had been led astray, after one day went to exhort him, and says to him, "Brother Valens, you have been mocked. Cease, and pray to God." But Valens did not pay attention to the exhortations of Father Macarius. And as he did not listen to his entreaty, he departed from him, being deeply grieved at the failure of Valens. The demon, therefore, having been assured that he was thoroughly persuaded by his trickery, departs, and the devil fashions himself into the Savior, and arrives in the night to him with his own demons in a phantasm as of a thousand angels carrying torches. And he shows him as if a fiery wheel, in which he seemed to fashion the Savior in the middle; and one of the demons taking precedence as an angel saying to him, "Christ is pleased with your manner of life, ^C and with the boldness of your life, and has come to you to see you. Go forth, therefore, from your cell, and do nothing else, but standing from afar, and seeing Him, the one standing in the midst of all, bowing down, adore Him, and enter into your cell." Valens, therefore, having gone out, and having seen the array of torchbearers, fell and worshipped the Antichrist from the distance of a stadium. To such a degree, then, was the deluded man deranged, ^D that on the next day he came to the

^A church, and when the whole brotherhood was gathered, said: "I have no need of communion. I have seen Christ today." Then the holy Fathers, having bound him in iron chains for a year, healed him, by prayers and a varied indifference and a life of inactivity casting down his conceit; for, as it is said, "the opposite is the remedy for the opposite."

It is necessary also to insert the lives of those who have been deceived into this little book for the safety of those who read it, just as it is natural for the tree of the knowledge of good and evil to grow together with the holy plants of paradise; so that if, at any time, some success should happen to anyone, he may not grow proud of his virtue. For often virtues themselves become occasions of a fall, when one does not accomplish them with spiritual wisdom for the goal of piety, according to that which is written: "I saw a righteous man perishing in his righteousness; and this is vanity."

Chapter XXXII. On Heron.

Heron was a neighbor of mine, an Alexandrian by race, agreeable, young, intelligent in mind, and pure in life, who himself also, after great toils and noble labors and a life of extreme virtue, was lifted up by the pride of waywardness to a giddy height, and from there was brought down by a pitiful fall, and was utterly ruined. And he, moved by vain conceit against the holy Fathers, thought highly of himself, insulting all, and with them the blessed Evagrius, saying: "Those who obey your teaching are deceived. For it is not proper," says he, "to use other teachers, except Christ alone." And he also misused the testimony for the perverted goal of his own folly, and said that the Savior himself says: "Call no man teacher upon the earth." He, too, was so darkened in his reasoning by the vainglory of his conceit, having fallen from above to below, that he was later put in chains, not wishing to approach the conceit or even the mysteries themselves. But truth is dear. He was excessively spare in his manner of life, so that many of those accustomed to him recounted his extreme ascetic discipline, some saying that he often ate only after three months, contenting himself solely with the communion of the mysteries, and if by chance some wild herbs appeared. I myself have had experience of this, traveling with the blessed Albinus to Scetis. Scetis was forty stadia away from us. We ate twice and drank water three times. But he, without having tasted anything at all, walking on foot, committed to memory fifteen psalms, then the Great Ode, then the Epistle to the Hebrews, then Isaiah and part of Jeremiah ^B of the prophets, then Luke the Evangelist, then the Proverbs. And with these things so, we could not overtake him walking. This man, finally seized by the operation of the evil demon, as if driven by a most violent fire, could not sit in his cell. Having departed to Alexandria — perhaps this too was by divine dispensation, the so-called "driving out one nail with another"— he fell voluntarily into indifference, later finding involuntary salvation. For he frequented theaters, and horse-races, and spent his time in taverns. And being thus [ensnared] by gluttony and drunkenness, he fell even into the pit of female desire. And as he was thinking of sinning, talking constantly with some mime, he discussed things pertaining to his own wound. Since these things were being done by him, there occurred by some divine economy a carbuncle on his genitals. And he was ill for such a long period of six months that his parts rotted away and fell off automatically. But later, having recovered and returned without these members, and having come to a divine state, and into the remembrance of the heavenly commonwealth, and having confessed all that had happened to him to the holy Fathers, he fell asleep after a few days, having not had time to act.

Chapter XXXIII. On Ptolemy.

Another, again, Ptolemy by name, having lived a life of virtue that is difficult to describe, or rather, indescribable, dwelt at the beginning beyond Scetis in what is called the "Ladder." It is a place so named, in which no one of the monks was ever able to dwell, because the well of water is eighteen stadia away. Having then carried many Cilician jars, he brought them there. And in the months of December and January, having gathered the dew from the rocks (for it dew-falls in those parts then quite a lot) and having filled the jars with dew, he lasted for himself, dwelling there for fifteen years, meeting no one for a longer time. He, having been estranged from spiritual teaching, and from the company of holy men, and from the benefit of the holy Fathers, and from the continuous communion of the mysteries of Christ, became so mad, having turned aside from the straight path, that he even confessed this wretched "spontaneity" (automatisme) that is spoken of by some of the impious, with the demon of delusion finally leading him. For this ill-willed one proposed this novel idea, to say that things have no essence, but that everything simply happens to be from the world [moving] spontaneously. The enemy of the life of all then subverted him, having dashed entirely into his soul, saying: "These things being so, why do you torment yourself in vain like this? So that it might profit you, Ptolemy, when there is no reward? And what reward would have sufficed you for these toils, even if there were someone to repay you? And what judgment is there, which the Scriptures threaten, when all things are without providence?" Broken by these satanic words, the most miserable Ptolemy is said to have wandered about suspended, deranged from his natural senses, until now in Egypt, having given himself over to gluttony and drunkenness, speaking with no one, but walking back and forth in the market, a pitiful sight and full of tears exposed to the eyes of Christians, and a plaything and a mockery to those who do not know our life. And this incurable misfortune had overtaken ^C the miserable Ptolemy from his irrational conceit, by thinking that he was being mocked by the deceiver because he has knowledge above all the holy Fathers; by which, being puffed up, the enemy of his own self was submerged into this abyss of ruin, never having met any of the holy Fathers who wisely governed, and having been neglected by their spiritual teaching, but found ungoverned, and having been storm-tossed by the dark tempest, he drifted off into the lowest depth of death. As a noble tree and [shattered]... ^D

enter your cell." Having departed, when he had seen the arrangement of lamps, at about a distance of a stadium ^A he worshipped the Antichrist. On another day, therefore, he was so struck in his mind that he entered the church and, the brotherhood being assembled, said: "I have no need of communion; for I have seen Christ today." Then the Fathers bound him for a year and cast him into iron shackles, and they treated him; by prayers, and by his own contempt, and by a stricter life, they drew him away from his delusion; for, as it is said, contrary things are cured by contrary medicines.

It is necessary, however, to include the life of those who are such in this book, for the security of those who read: just as the wood of paradise, namely the knowledge of good and evil (Gen. ii), was also added to the holy plants; so that if it ever happens that they conduct themselves rightly in some matter, ^B they may not exalt themselves and boast of their virtue. For often, too, virtue itself becomes an occasion of falling, when it is not done with a right aim. For it is written: "I have seen the just perishing in his justice" (Eccle. vii). This too is vanity.

CAPUT XXXII. Concerning Eron

There was a certain man, Eron by name, a neighbor of mine, an Alexandrian by race, an urban youth, of good disposition, and clean in life. He himself, too, after great labors and glorious sweats, was seized by arrogance and pride, and acting headlong, he became proud and insolent against the Fathers, and even heaped insults upon the blessed Evagrius [Al. Macarius the presbyter] with them, saying: "Those who obey your teaching are deceived; for it is not fitting to pay attention to other masters besides Christ." He also abused testimony for the perverse aim of his own folly, saying: "Call no man master upon the earth" (Matth. xxiii). He himself, too, had his mind so darkened by the vain persuasion of his own opinion that he was even bound in iron when he would not come together for the sacraments. But truth is a friend. His way of life was very subtle and accurate, so much so that many with whom he had intercourse would say that he often ate only after three months, content with the communion of the sacraments, and if any wild herb appeared to him. I for my part also had experience of him with blessed Albinus, when I was going to Scetis—and Scetis is forty miles away from us. In these forty miles we ate twice, and drank water three times; but he, having tasted nothing, walking on foot, recited by heart fifteen psalms, then the great psalm, then the Epistle to the Hebrews, then Isaiah, and a part of the prophet Jeremiah, then Luke the Evangelist, then Proverbs. We could not keep up with him as he walked. He, finally seized by the operation of an evil demon, as one driven by a most vehement fire, could not remain in his cell: having departed to Alexandria, by a certain divine counsel he drove out a nail with a nail. For he fell of his own accord into the promiscuous and indifferent use of things, having found salvation afterwards involuntarily. ^A He indeed approached the theaters and equestrian contests, and busied himself in inns; and he, being devoted to gluttony and drunkenness, fell into the mud of feminine desire; and when he had decided to sin, having constantly consorted with a certain actress, he opened his own ulcer. While these things were being done, by a certain divine counsel a carbuncle grew for him in the groin; and for a period of six months he was so ill that his manly parts rotted and fell off of their own accord. But when he had later recovered, he returned to the point of feeling those things which are of God, and came into the wilderness, confessing all these things to the fathers; and when he had not reached operation, he fell asleep a few days later.

CAPUT XXXIII. Concerning Ptolemy who failed.

Another again, named Ptolemy, having passed a life difficult to narrate, or rather which cannot be narrated, dwelt at the beginning beyond Scetis in the place which is called κλῖμα, that is to say, a ladder. It is, however, a place which is so called where no one can live, for the reason that a well of water is distant eighteen miles. Since he had therefore carried many earthen vessels, and in the months of December and January had collected dew (for there is very much dew in those parts) and had squeezed sponges out from the stones, he persisted in living there for fifteen years. He, estranged from the doctrine and congregation of holy men and from the utility and continuous communion of the sacraments, receded so far from the right path that, as some impious men say that all things happen by chance, this wretched man also confessed this, the demon of error thereafter holding empire over him. ^C For the enemy suggested to this vain man that he should say that things have no essence; but that all things are entirely from that which the world was carried by its own impulse. The enemy of all life therefore sent these things into his soul, saying: "Since things are so, why do you torment yourself in vain outside? What will it profit you, Ptolemy, if there be no reward? What reward would suffice for you for so many and such great labors, even if there were one who would render it? And what is the judgment that the Scriptures threaten, if there be no providence?" Surrounded by these satanic thoughts, the most miserable Ptolemy is said to be of a deranged mind, and to wander in Egypt to this day, and to have delivered himself to gluttony and drunkenness, conversing with no one, ^D but going about the forum mute, a miserable and tearful spectacle to the eyes of Christians, but a mockery to those who do not know our life. This incurable calamity, however, invaded the miserable Ptolemy, from a certain arrogance devoid of reason, because, deluded by the seducing demon, he imagined that he excelled in knowledge above all the holy Fathers: by which, puffed up, the enemy of his own self, he was cast headlong into the deep of perdition, since he had never once met any of the holy Fathers who could have wisely governed, nor was he founded in their spiritual doctrine; but being found without a guide, he fell into the extreme deep of death, and like a tree adorned with green leaves and decorated with fruits, which at one moment of time is stripped of all at once, is rendered dry.

together they are stripped of everything, and returned to being parched. For as it is written: Where there is no direction, they fall like leaves (Prov. xi).

CAPUT XXXV. De virgine lapsa (Chapter XXXV. Concerning a fallen virgin).

I know again of a certain virgin in Jerusalem who wore sackcloth for six years and was ^A enclosed; nor did she receive anything of those things that tend toward pleasure, but practiced the utmost continence among women. But later, deserted by divine aid because of the highest pride, which is the nurse of all evils, she fell; and by opening a window, she admitted him who was serving her, and was joined with him—because she had not practiced her exercises with a divine purpose and out of charity, but to serve the human stage, which is indeed a matter of vain glory and a corrupt manner of life. For when her pious thoughts were occupied ^B in condemning others, while she was herself stirred up by the frenzy of the demon of pride—and was greatly delighted by it—the holy angel, the guardian of temperance, withdrew from her.

And therefore we have written, O most faithful of men, both the life of those who have conducted themselves rightly and virtuously, and of those who, after many labors, through idleness and sloth fell from the highest and most perfect manner of life, caught by the devil in all kinds of snares, so that each one, understanding the hidden nets of the enemy of good things from the manner of another's life, may flee his snares. Since there are, therefore, many—and those great—men and women who from the beginning conducted themselves rightly in an honorable manner of practice, but were at last uprooted by the adversary of all mankind; having made mention of a few from among many, I shall pass over the majority in silence, so that I may neither exalt them nor profit myself, while I linger long on them but neglect the outstanding athletes of Christ, not narrating the virtues of their divine exercise.

CAPUT XXXV. Vita abbatis Eliæ (Chapter XXXV. The life of Abbot Elias).

A certain Elias, an excellent practitioner, was a great lover of virgins, taking care of the weaker part. For there are such souls to whom the end bears witness that they do this out of virtue. When he had taken pity on the order of women who were practicing asceticism, and possessed resources in the city of Athribis, he built a large monastery, and there gathered all the virgins who were wandering, consequently taking care of them in all things, providing them with everything pertaining to necessary use: gardens, and implements for their cultivation, and, to say it once, everything that a life of exercise requires. But they, being drawn from various ways of life and private habits, were constantly fighting among themselves. When, therefore, it was necessary for this holy man to hear them and to cause them to keep peace among themselves—for he had gathered up to three hundred, and it had been necessary for him to be their intercessor for two years, although he was young in age—he was about thirty or forty years old, he was tempted by pleasure. Departing from the monastery fasting, he wandered through ^C the wilderness for two days, praying this and saying: "Either kill me, lest I see them afflicted; or grant me the affection, that I may take care of them as reason demands." When it was evening, sleep overcame him in the wilderness. Three angels came to him, as he himself told me, and holding him, they say to him: "Why did you depart from the monastery of women?" Therefore he told them the matter, saying: "I feared lest I should harm them and myself." The angels say to him: "If, therefore, we free you from this affection, will you return and take care of them?" He consented to these things. But they demanded an oath from him; and he narrated the oath. "Swear to us such an oath: 'By Him who takes care of me, I will take care of them.'" I swore this to them. Then the angels held him: one by his hands, and another by his feet, and the third, having taken a razor, cut off his testicles as if in an ecstasy, not truly, but in a certain vision. He seemed, therefore, in that ecstasy as if he had been excised and healed. After this the angels questioned him, saying: "Did you feel any benefit?" He says to them: "I have received a very great benefit; for I have been greatly lightened, and I am persuaded that I am freed from labor and affection." Then the angels say to him: "Depart, therefore, to your monastery." He returned after five days, while the whole monastery was mourning, and he entered within; and from that time he remained in a cell at the side of the monastery, since, as he was nearby, he corrected them constantly as much as was in his power. And when he had later lived for another forty years, he affirmed to the Fathers that from that time the affection of female desire had not ascended into his heart. This is the grace of the holy man Elias, and this is his exercise, and [this is] how he took care of the monastery of virgins.

CAPUT XXXVI. Vita abbatis Dorothei (Chapter XXXVI. The life of Abbot Dorotheus).

To him succeeded Dorotheus, a most approved man, who grew old in a good life and one occupied in doing. Because he could not indeed take care of the monastery in the same way as this blessed man, nor had he remained in that cell, he enclosed himself in the monastery itself in an upper chamber, and made a window that looked toward the monastery of women, which he would close and open. Therefore, he sat perpetually at the window, taking care that fights might cease among them. And thus he grew old in that upper chamber, when neither could anyone ascend separately, nor could he descend, for there were no stairs. This is the religious life of the blessed Dorotheus, adorned with virtues. This is the end of his life.

CAPUT XXXVII. De Amma Piamum (Chapter XXXVII. Concerning Mother Piamun).

There was a certain virgin, Piamun, who lived the years of her life with her own mother, eating alone in the evening and spinning flax. She was vouchsafed the grace of the prediction of future things among men. It happened once in Egypt, as the Nile was rising, that one village invaded another; for they fight over the division of the waters, so much so that slaughter and wounding follow. Therefore, a more powerful village invaded his village, and a multitude of men came with spears and clubs to destroy his village. But an angel stood by this blessed woman, revealing their ^D invasion to her; and having summoned the priests of the village, she says to them:

flourish for a moment with leaves and fruit, but at one strike of a moment, having been stripped bare all at once, they were shown to be dry, according to what is written, and it applies to this: "Those who have no governance fall like leaves."

Chapter XXXIV: Concerning the virgin in Jerusalem.

I know of another virgin in Jerusalem, wearing sackcloth for six years and shut up in a cell, who never accepted any of the things that tend toward pleasure, but practiced an extreme discipline of continence among women; she who was later abandoned by the help of God, through an excess of the pride that is the nurse of all evils, fell into a calamitous collapse. For having opened the little window of the cell, she received the man who served her, and was mingled with him. This happened to her because she had not maintained her asceticism for a spiritual purpose and love for God, but according to a human theater, that is, vainglory, a discovery of a hostile choice. For her pious thoughts being occupied by the demon of vainglory, she practiced this in order to judge others. As she was driven to frenzy by the demon of pride, and finding pleasure in this rather than in her—the holy angel, the guardian of chastity, withdrew from her.

And we have written this, most faithful of men, and among you who have achieved a life of virtue, and those who because of sloth have been overcome by the devil with his manifold snares after much toil following an extreme discipline, so that each one, observing from his own way of life the hidden nets of the hater of good, may flee his traps. Since there are many and great men and women who have originally achieved the virtuous way of ascetic life, but in the end were uprooted by the adversary of all men, having remembered a few of the many, I shall keep silent about the majority, neither rousing them nor benefiting myself by lingering long upon these things, and neglecting the outstanding athletes of Christ by not narrating instead the virtues of their godly asceticism.

Chapter XXXV: Concerning Elias.

Elias by name, an excellent ascetic, became exceedingly continent, taking thought for the weaker member. For there are such souls, to which the end testifies that they do this according to virtue. He, having taken pity on the situation of the ascetics, having resources in the city of Athribis, built a great monastery, and gathered all the captive women into the monastery, caring for them appropriately in all things, having provided them with every comfort for their needs, gardens, and their conveniences; and simply all things that the life of asceticism requires. But these women, having been led from different ways of life and private habits, kept waging continuous wars with one another. And this holy man had to listen to them and keep them in peace. For he gathered about three hundred, and he was under a necessity to mediate among them for two years, being of a youthful age. For he was about thirty or forty years old. He was tempted by desire. And he who had departed from the monastery, went wandering through the desert fasting for two days, praying for this, and saying, "Lord, kill me, that I may not see them troubled, or take away my passion, that I may care for them according to reason." Then evening having come, he fell asleep in the desert. Three angels having come to him, as he himself used to relate, finally held him, and say to him: "Why did you come out from the women's monastery?" He related the matter to them, saying: "Because I feared lest I should harm them and myself." The angels say to him: "If, then, we deliver you from this passion, will you go back and care for them?" Upon these terms he agreed. They exact an oath from him. And he used to relate the oath to be as follows: "Swear to us," he says, "that by Him who cares for me, I will care for them." Upon this he swore to them. Then the angels held him, the one by the feet, and the other by the hands, and the third, having taken a razor, cut off his testicles, as if in a trance, yet not in reality, but by a certain fantasy. He seemed, therefore, in that trance, as one might say, both to be cut and to be healed. After this the angels ask him, saying: "Did you feel any benefit?" He says to them: "I have been greatly benefited. For I was lightened indeed, and I am persuaded that I have been delivered both from the pain and from the passion." Then the angels say to him: "Go, then, to your ascetic cell." He returned after five days. Then, as the whole monastery was mourning for him, he went inside, and from then on remained in a cell at the side of the monastery; from where, being nearer, he continuously corrected them, as far as it depended upon him; having lived for another forty years for them, asserting to the Fathers that "No longer did a passion of desire for a woman enter into my heart." This was the gift of the holy man Elias, and this was his asceticism; and thus this blessed man cared for the monastery.

Chapter XXXVI: Concerning Dorotheus.

Him, Dorotheus, a most proven man, succeeded, having grown old in a good and practical life; not having been able to care for the monastery as this blessed man did, nor to remain in that cell. In an upper cell he was shut up and made a window looking out upon the women's monastery. And this he would close and open. By sitting incessantly at the window, he managed their peace. Thus, having grown old without offense in that upper cell, with no one ever having gone up there, nor was he ever able to go down, because a ladder was not standing. This was the virtue of the asceticism of the blessed Dorotheus, and in this was his end.

Chapter XXXVII: Concerning the virgin Piamun.

Piamun by name was a virgin, who lived all the years of her life with her mother, eating one day in two, always in the evening, and spinning flax. She was deemed worthy of the gift of prophecy. In the times when it happened in Egypt that the Nile rose in flood, it happened that one village attacked another. For they fight over the irrigation, so that even murders often follow, and massacres. A stronger village, therefore, attacked hers. And men came in a multitude against her with spears and clubs, so that they might destroy her village. But an angel of the Lord stood by this blessed woman, revealing their invasion to her. And having summoned the priests of her village, she says to them: "Go…

^A out to meet those who are coming against you, together with the children, among whom also carry some purple-dyed crosses, so that we all, the inhabitants of this village, may not perish together. And implore them to desist from the conspiracy against you." The priests, fearing greatly, fall at her feet, begging and imploring her, and saying, "We do not dare to meet them. For we know their drunkenness and their recklessness. But if you show mercy to us, and to the whole village, and to your own house, go out yourself to meet them, and having brought them to peace, turn them away." That holy woman did not agree to this, but going up to her own upper room, she stood for the whole night praying, and not bending a knee, but chained to God, and saying: "O Lord, You who judge all the earth, to whom nothing unjust is ever pleasing, when this prayer of yours has come to You, may Your holy power fix them in the place where it catches them." And when this holy virgin had prayed, something like this happened: At about the first hour, the enemies were found at three points of the village, and they were fixed in that very place just as the holy woman had asked, entirely unable to move. It was revealed to those soldiers, too, that by the intercession of the servant of Christ, Piamun, this had happened to them. Having therefore sent to her village, they asked for peace, making it known to the inhabitants that "Give thanks to God and to the pure prayers of Piamun the righteous, who both saved you and restrained us from the overthrow of a great evil."

Chapter XXXVIII: Concerning the Tabennesiotes

Tabennesi is a place in the Thebaid so named, in which Pachomius became a monk, a man who had lived such an extreme manner of life as to be counted worthy ^B of this, and of angelic visions. This man became exceedingly fond of the poor, and a lover of men. As he was sitting, therefore, in a cave, an angel of the Lord appeared to him and says to him: "Pachomius, you have achieved what belongs to you: it is superfluous, then, that you sit in this cave. Come, therefore; go out and gather all the younger monks, and live with them, and legislate for them according to the rule which I give you." And he gave him a bronze tablet on which these things were written: "Grant to each one according to his strength to eat and to drink. And according to the strength of those eating, assign their works accordingly, and do not forbid them to fast, nor to eat. Nevertheless, assign the more arduous works to the stronger ones and to those eating, but the easier ones to the more ascetic and the weaker ones. And make various cells in the same place; and let three remain in each cell. And let the food of all be examined under one house; and let them sleep not being questioned, but having built seats with backs reclined, and having placed their mattresses there, let them sleep sitting. And let them wear linen tunics in the nights, girt about. Let each of them have a white dressed goatskin. Without this, let them neither eat nor sleep. And when entering into the communion of the mysteries of Christ on Saturday and Sunday, let them loosen their belts, and lay aside the goatskin, and let them enter with only a hood." And he fashioned for them ^D that he should apply to each rank the letter of the alphabet, with only the spiritual ones knowing the meanings. It was written on the tablet that if a stranger from another monastery should come, having a different rule, he should not eat with them, nor drink, nor enter into the monastery, unless he should be found on the road. However, let one who has entered once stay with them. For three years, do not admit him to the struggle of the inner-ones; but having performed more laborious works, so let him enter into the stadium after the three years. While eating, let them have their heads covered with their hoods; so that one brother may not see another chewing. It is not permitted to speak while eating, nor for the eye to pay attention anywhere outside the dish or the table. And he fashioned for them to perform twelve prayers throughout the whole day, and twelve at the lamp-lighting time, and twelve in the night-vigils, and three at the ninth hour. And when the multitude is thought to be eating, he fashioned that for each rank at each prayer a psalm should be recited. And when the great Pachomius argued against the angel that the prayers are few, the angel says to him: "I have set these in order so that the juniors may be able to complete the canon, and not be grieved; but the perfect have no need of legislation. For being by themselves in the cells, they have yielded their whole life to the contemplation of God. But I have legislated for those who do not have an enlightened mind, so that even if they are like scornful servants, through the fear of the Master, they may be disposed to fulfill the arrangement of the life with boldness." Having ordered these things, and having fulfilled his ministry, the angel departed from the great Pachomius. These monasteries, then, are more numerous that have held fast to this rule, extending to seven thousand men. There is the first and great monastery where the blessed Pachomius himself lived—which also gave birth to the other ascetic houses—having a number of men of one thousand three hundred.

Chapter XXXIX: The Life of Abbot Aphthonius

Among these [is] also the servant of God called Aphthonius, who became a genuine friend of mine, [and] at present is second in that monastery. Whom they send to Alexandria as being free from scandal for the needs, both to sell their goods and to purchase their necessities. There are also other monasteries of two and three hundred souls, among which [is one] in the city of Panos, into which entered a body of three hundred men. In this monastery I have seen fifteen dyers, seven smiths, four carpenters, camel-

“Go out and from this village go to meet them who are coming against you, lest you also perish together with the village, and ask them to desist from the ambushes prepared against you.” But the terrified presbyters fall at her feet, beseeching her and saying: “We do not dare to go to meet them; for we know their drunkenness and insolence; but if you show mercy to us and the whole village, and to your own house, go out yourself to meet them and turn them back pacified.” When she would not consent, she went into her little house and remained praying all night, not at all bending her knee, but pleading, saying: “Lord, who judges the earth, to whom nothing that is unjust is pleasing, when this prayer comes to You, let Your power make them stand motionless like a column, wherever it may overtake them.” When this holy virgin had prayed thus, such a thing happened. The enemies, around the first hour, at three miles’ distance, were fixed in that place like a column, and could not move. It was also revealed to them that it was through the intercession of Christ’s handmaid Piamun that this hindrance had been caused to them; and they, sending to the village, asked for peace, saying: “Give thanks to God and to the prayers of Piamun, which hindered us, so that we would not bring great evil upon you.”

Chapter XXXVIII: The life of Abbot Pachomius and those who were with him.

^C Tabennesis ^D is a place so named in the Thebaid, in which was Pachomius the monk, a man from those who lived in the highest and most perfect institute of life, so that he was deemed worthy of both predictions of future things and angelic visions. He was a great lover of the poor, and possessed of great charity toward men. Therefore, while he was sitting in this cave, the angel of the Lord appeared to him, saying to him: “Pachomius, you have conducted what pertains to you rightly and virtuously; it is therefore superfluous for you to sit in this place; come now, go out, and gather all the younger monks, and live with them, and according to the form which I shall give to you, constitute laws for them.” And he gave him a bronze tablet, on which these things were written: “Allow each one to eat and drink according to the strength of those who eat; also command them to perform works that befit them and correspond in proportion, and forbid neither fasting nor eating. Thus, indeed, command the strong to do strong works, but the weak and light ones to those who exert themselves more and are weaker. Moreover, make diverse cells in the same hall, and let three remain in a cell. Furthermore, let food be prepared for all in one house. And let them not sleep sitting or reclining, but having supports constructed for them a little higher, and there, having placed their own mats, let them sleep seated. At night, let them wear linen loincloths, girded. Let each of these have a white worked sheepskin; without it let them neither eat nor sleep. When entering for the communion of Christ on Saturday and Sunday, let them loosen their belts and put aside the sheepskin, and enter with the hood alone.” He also made for them hoods without tufts, like children’s, on which he also ordered the figure of a purple cross to be placed. He also ordered there to be twenty-four orders of brothers, from the number of twenty-four letters, and he commanded each order to be assigned a Greek letter as a name, from α, β, and those which follow in sequence up to ω, so that when the archimandrite asks about something in such a great multitude, he might inquire of him who is second to him, how order α is doing, or how order β is doing. Again, salute ^B [P], following a certain proper name of the letters: and to the simpler and more sincere, you will impose a name; to the more difficult, however, [...]; and thus, befitting their institutions, life, and customs, you will accommodate the element of the letter to each order; only the spiritual can understand those things which are signified. Now it was written on the tablet: “If a guest from another monastery comes, which has a different form, let him neither eat nor drink with them, and let him not enter the monastery unless he is found on the road. Furthermore, him who once enters and cannot endure the struggle with them for three years, do not admit; but when he has performed more difficult works, let him thus come forth into the stadium after three years.” When eating, let them cover their heads with hoods, so that brother may not see brother chewing. It is not permitted to one eating to speak, nor to turn his eyes anywhere else outside the square and the table. He also determined that they should perform twelve prayers throughout the whole day, and when they came to the evening light, and at the night vigils twelve, and at the ninth hour three. When it seemed that the multitude should eat, he established that each order should sing a psalm first in every single prayer. When the great Pachomius was saying to the angel that there were few prayers, the angel said to him: “I have constituted these, so that even the weak may be able to proceed to perfecting the rule, and it may not be burdensome to them; those who are perfect, however, have no need that laws be brought to them; for when they are by themselves in their cells, they attribute their whole life to contemplation. I brought these laws for those who have little intelligence, so that, like stubborn servants, fulfilling the whole institute of life by the fear of the Master, they may live securely and freely.” When the angel had ordained these things and fulfilled his ministry, he departed from holy Pachomius. These are the monasteries that obtained this form, having about seven thousand men. There is also the first and great monastery, in which the blessed Pachomius himself dwells, which brought forth other monasteries, containing a number of about one thousand four hundred men.

CHAPTER XXXIX. Life of Abbot Aphthonius.

Among whom is also the servant of God who is called Aphthonius, who is a brother and sincere friend to me, who now holds the second place in that monastery. Him, as one who is powerful in Christ, firm and stable, and who cannot be easily offended, they send to Alexandria for their own needs, to sell their works and buy what is necessary for them. There are also other monasteries which consist of two hundred and three hundred souls. And in Pan [...] I entered the city, in which the monastery consists of men [...]

^A men. They practice every craft, and from what remains they even build monasteries and outposts for women. Therefore, waking in the morning, those to whom this duty falls at their turn, some are occupied in the kitchen, others are involved in preparing the tables—placing on the tables bread and wild herbs, olives, cheeses, and the coarse parts of meats, and chopped herbs. And those who are less strong enter at the seventh hour and eat, as those who are weaker; others at the ninth, others at the tenth, others late in the evening, others after two days, others after three days, others after four days, others after five days, so that each element signifies its own proper hour. Likewise, their works were also thus: one labors in cultivating the field, another in the garden, another in the mill, another in the copper-smithy, another in smithing, another in the fuller’s art, another in preparing hides, another in mending shoes, another in fair-writing, another wove great baskets, another small baskets and panniers. But all recite the Scriptures from memory.

The monastery of women likewise consists of about four hundred, which has the same form of life and the same rule, except for the sheepskin [garment]. And the women are indeed across the river Nile; but the men are opposite them. If a virgin dies, the other virgins, when they have prepared her for burial, carry her out and place her on the bank of the river. But the brethren, crossing with palms and olive branches and psalmody, transport her and bury her in their tombs. Besides the presbyter and the deacon, no one crosses to the monastery of women, and that [only] on the Lord’s day. ^B

CAPUT XL. Concerning the virgin, of whom a false accusation had been made.

In this monastery of women, this event occurred. A secular shoemaker, having crossed over through ignorance, was looking for work; but one, younger than reason required (for it is a desert place), met him unexpectedly and gave him the reply: "We have our own shoemakers." Another, however, who had seen their conversation, when in the process of time a contention had arisen between them, out of the devil’s suggestion, out of extreme malice and heat of mind, slandered her before the sisterhood because of that conversation. A few followed her, who were not considered to have such great malice. But she, consumed with grief, as one who had undergone such a calumny, which had not even entered her mind, and being unable to endure the affair, threw herself secretly into the river, and so perished. When she who had slandered her had realized this, and had seen that she had been maliciously slandered ^C and that she had committed this crime, she also choked herself secretly, because she bore the deed with difficulty. When the presbyter had come and the other virgins had reported the matter to him, he ordered that no offering be made for any of them. But the others, as accomplices, and those who had not restrained the slanderer, and those who had believed what had been said, he segregated for seven years, excommunicating them.

CAPUT XLI. Concerning the virgin who feigned stupidity.

In this monastery there was another virgin who, for the sake of Christ, feigned stupidity ^D and that she was possessed by a demon, persuading herself through this to exercise virtue most excellently, conducting herself in it remarkably, and rendering herself abject and humble. The others despised her to such an extent that they did not even sit to eat with her, though she accepted this with joy. Running, therefore, into the kitchen, she performed every kind of service for the others, so that she did not interrupt [her work] even for one hour, but served like a maidservant. And this blessed one was, as is said, the sponge of the monastery, truly fulfilling that which is written in the Gospel: "Whoever wishes to be great among you, let him be the servant and the minister of all." And again elsewhere: "If anyone seems to be wise among you in this age, let him become foolish that he may become wise." And the habit of the other virgins was such that they were shorn and had hoods on their heads; but she, her head covered with a rag, attended to the service of them all. None of the four hundred saw her eating in all the years of her life. She never sat at the table, nor did she ever eat a fragment of bread, but collecting the crumbs of the tables with a sponge and washing the pots, she was content with these things. And she never wore shoes, nor did she inflict insult on anyone, nor did she murmur, nor did she speak a small or great thing, even if she were insulted, and struck with fists, and assailed with curses, and even if many detested her.

CAPUT XLII. Concerning4 holy Pitirum.

Concerning this holy woman, the holy anchorite Pitirum, who sat in Porphyrite, a man most approved in the virtue of asceticism, an angel stood by and revealed to him, who said to him: "Why are you pleased with yourself, and why do you look around grandiosely because of those things which are done by you rightly and with virtue, as one who is pious and religious, and you sit in this place? Do you wish to see a woman who is more pious and religious than you? Go to the monastery of the Tabennesiot women, and you will find there one who has a headband on her head; she is better than you, who, struggling with such a great crowd and serving all indiscriminately, has never withdrawn her heart from God, even if she is proudly despised by all. But you, however, even if you sit here, nevertheless wander through cities in your thought, you who have never trodden the inhabited world with your feet." But the great Pitirum rising, came as far as the monastery of the Tabennesiot women, and asked the masters that it might be permitted for him to cross over to the monastery of women; and since he was a man of great reputation among the Fathers, and had progressed in asceticism, with a good and confident mind they led him across the river. But when they had prayed, the great Pitirum asked that he might see all the virgins face to face. When, therefore, all had come into the midst, she did not appear. Finally, the holy Pitirum says to them: "Bring all of them to me." But when they said, "We are all present," he says to them: "There is wanting one whom the angel showed to me." They indeed say: "We have one, Sa-

- ^A liam, that is to say, those who have lost their sense; she is in the kitchen. For that is what they call those who are afflicted, there. The great man said: Bring her as well, let me see her.

^A Since he was a man of renown, they brought her, and the great man saw her face and the rag on her head and forehead. And falling at her feet, he said to her: Bless me, Amma. But she also fell at his feet and said: You bless me, my lord. Seeing this, they were all amazed, saying to him: Abba, do not suffer this insult; for she is a fool. Saint Pitirum said to them all: You are the fools. For she, being better than you and me, is an amma (for this is what they call the spiritual mothers); and I pray that I may be found worthy of her on the day of judgment. Hearing these things, they fell at his feet, weeping and confessing to one another in what varied ways they used to grieve this holy woman: one saying, "I always mocked her," and another, "I laughed at her humble attire," and another, "I insulted her while she remained silent"; and another again, "I would often pour the rinse-water from the basin over her," another, "I beat her," and yet another, "I rubbed soot in her face," and another again, "I would often smudge mustard in her nose"; and, in short, they all confessed the various insults they had committed against her. Saint Pitirum, having received their confession and prayed for them along with her, and having exhorted the precious handmaid of Christ for a long time, departed. After a few days, being greatly honored by all and served by everyone, that blessed woman, unable to bear the glory and the honor from the entire sisterhood and their apologies—considering this a burden—secretly left the monastery. And where she went, or where she hid, or where she died, no one has known to this day. These are the virtuous works of that brave, humble, and blessed virgin.

Chapter XLIII: Concerning John of Lycopolis.

them (88), who are in the kitchen. For so they call those there who are not of sound mind. The great one says to them: "Bring that one also; allow me to see her." They went, therefore, to call her. But she did not obey at all, as one who felt the situation, for perhaps it had been revealed to her as well. Therefore, they dragged her by force, saying: "Saint Pitirum wants to see you," for he was a man of great name. When she had been brought, the great one saw her face and the cloth on her head and forehead, and falling at her feet, he said to her: "Bless me, Mother." But she, too, falling at his feet, said: "It is you who must bless me, my lord." When all had seen this, they were astonished and said to him: "Do not let this be a disgrace and insult to you, for she is Sale." Saint Pitirum said to them: "You are Sale, for she is better than me and than you; she is a Mother (for so they call the spiritual Mothers), and I pray that I may be found worthy of her at the hour of judgment." But when they heard this, they fell at his feet weeping, and all confessed that they had treated the blessed one with insults in various ways: one saying, "I always mocked her"; another, "I laughed at her humble attire"; another, "I insulted her while she remained silent"; and yet another, "I often poured the slop of the dish upon her"; another, "I inflicted blows upon her"; another, again, "I am the one who punched her"; another, again, "I sprinkled mustard into her nostrils." And to say it once, they all signified that they had visited various insults upon her. ^B When Saint Pitirum, therefore, had accepted their confession, and had prayed for them together with her, and had long comforted the venerable servant of Christ, he left. But a few days later, when she was greatly honored by all and held in high regard by all, the blessed one, not bearing the glory and honor with which she was treated by the whole sisterhood, and judging the excuses to be a burden, secretly left the monastery; and to where she went, or what place she inhabited, or where she died, no one has known to this day. These are the deeds and works of this noble and humble virgin. ^C

CHAPTER XLIII. Of Abbot John of the city of Lyco.

There was a certain John in the city of Lyco, who from childhood had learned the carpenter’s trade, and had a brother who was a fuller (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 1). But afterwards, when he was about twenty-five years old, he renounced the world; and when he had spent five years in a monastery, he withdrew alone to the mountain of Lyco, and having built himself three cells on the summit of the mountain, he entered and walled himself in. There was, indeed, one cell for the needs of the body, another where he worked, and a third where he prayed. When he had completed thirty years included therein, and receiving through a window from him who ministered to him those things which were necessary for use, he was held worthy of the grace of predicting future events, the gift of which prophecy became plain through his works. For everything that was coming into the world from God, he first signified to the pious Emperor Theodosius, and what things were to happen, he announced beforehand; namely, the insurrection of the tyrants (90) against him ^D and, again, their swift destruction and the erasure of the nations that rushed upon him: to such a degree that when a certain army commander came to him to inquire whether he would defeat the Ethiopians who are in Syene—which is in fact the border of the Thebaid—for they had then broken in and had ravaged the surrounding region, John said to him: "If you go up, you will capture them, bind them, and subjugate them, and you will be famous before the emperors." This also came to pass, and the events confirmed his prediction. He said, moreover, that the most Christian emperor Theodosius would die of his own death. This man also possessed an admirable prophecy that exceeded measure, as we have heard from the Fathers who associated with him, whose life was approved by all who were there. And that they did not narrate anything about him to curry favor, but rather less than he deserved, can be easily known from this: for when a certain tribune had come to him, and as a suppliant begged that he would permit his wife to come to him, for she had suffered much and wished to see him, going to Syene so that he might first pray for her and send her away having given her a blessing; but he, who had not seen a woman for forty years in the cave, being then ninety years old, and who himself had never gone out, nor permitted himself to see a woman, refused to see his wife. Nor had any man ever entered into him. For he only blessed through the window and greeted those who approached, conversing with each one about what he wished. When, therefore, the tribune insisted, asking if he would order his wife to come (for she was living in solitude five miles from the city), but he would not agree, saying that it could not be, he sent the man away sad. But the wife did not cease day and night to show distress to her husband, and swearing to affirm that she would never go away unless she saw the prophet. After it was reported to the blessed John by her husband about the oath of the wife, having understood her faith, he said to him: "This night she will see me in a dream; let her no longer continue to try to see my face in the flesh." The husband reported to the wife the things that the Father had said. But the woman saw in a dream the prophet coming to her. He said to her: "What is the matter with you, woman? Why did you desire to see my face? Am I a prophet, or do I hold the place of the just? I am a sinful man, and passible just like you; yet I have prayed for you and your husband’s house, that it may be done for you according to your faith. Go, therefore, in peace." And when he had said these things, he departed. When the woman had been awakened, she reported to her husband the words of the prophet, and told of his appearance and dress, and through her husband sent him thanks. When the blessed John saw him, he occupied the conversation saying: "Behold, I have fulfilled what you requested; for seeing her, I warned her not to see me any more, but, 'Go in peace'."

The wife of another official, in the absence of her husband, was carrying a child in her womb. But when she had given birth, on that very day when her husband convened with Father John, she came into danger through an emotional fainting spell. The saint announced to him, saying: "If you knew the gift of God (John IV), and cap. 22.

^A that a son is born to you today, you would glorify God; but his mother came almost into danger." When you arrive, therefore, you will find an infant seven days old: give him the name John. And when you have reared him rightly, and he reaches his seventh year, send him to the monks who are in the desert." And he used to show these miracles to those who came from abroad; but to his own fellow citizens, who were constantly coming to him for their own needs, he both knew beforehand and foretold the future; and what had been done secretly by each one, and concerning the Nile and the future fertility of the year, he made known to them. Likewise, he also announced beforehand the threats of God coming upon them, and chided those responsible for them. And blessed John himself did not perform cures openly; but by giving oil, he cured many of those who were suffering. For the wife of a certain senator, who had lost her sight and had pupils covered with a white film, asked her husband that she be led to him. But when he said that he never met with women, and she asked that it be made known to him alone, and that he might do it for her sake, he did so, and sent oil. And after she had anointed her eyes for only three days, she recovered her sight, and gave thanks to God openly.

And what need is there to speak of his other works which we received with our own eyes? For we were seven foreign brothers in the desert of Nitria, I and blessed Evagrius, and Albinus, and Ammonius. We were seeking to know accurately what the virtue of this man might be. But great Evagrius said: "I should gladly learn from someone who knows how to examine both the mind and the prayer, what kind of man he is; for if I am not able to see him, but can hear his manner of life exactly from one who relates it, I will learn so that I may meet him; but if I do not learn, I will not go up to the mountain." When I had heard this, and had told no one anything, I kept quiet for one day, but on the other I locked my cell; and when I had commended both myself and it to God, I set out for the Thebaid. And when I had arrived there in the space of eighteen days, partly on foot, and partly by sailing on the river—and it was the time of the rising [of the Nile], in which many fall ill, which happened to me also. But when I had arrived, I found his vestibule closed; for the brothers later built a very large vestibule, which held about a hundred men; which they kept closed with a key, opening it only on the Sabbath and the Lord's Day. ^C When, therefore, I had learned the reason for which it was closed, I practiced silence until the Sabbath. And when I had come at the second hour, in the assembly I found him sitting in a window, through which he seemed to be consoling those who were approaching. And when he had greeted me, he said through an interpreter: "Of what region are you, and why have you come? For I surmise that you are from the convent of Evagrius." I said, however, that I was a guest from Galatia, and I confessed that I was of the sodality of Evagrius. But in the meantime, while we were speaking, the governor of the region entered, Alypius by name; at whose approach he ceased speaking with me. When, therefore, I had withdrawn a little, I gave them place ^A from afar. But when they had conversed for a long time, I was affected with sadness, and I murmured against the venerable old man, because he had slighted me, but had honored him; and on account of this, troubled in my mind, I was planning to leave, having been slighted. But having called an interpreter, Theodorus by name, he says to him: "Go, tell that brother not to be angry; I am already dismissing the governor, and I will speak with him." It seemed to me, therefore, to bear it tolerantly, as one who had observed that he was a spiritual man. But when the governor had gone out, with me having been called, he says to me: "Why were you indignant against me? What did you find that might justly offend you, that you considered things in your mind which are neither present in me, nor befit you? Or do you not know that it is written: They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick (Matt. IX; Mark II; Luke V)? You, when I wish, I find, and you me; and if I were not to be comforted, ^B others, brothers and other Fathers, comfort you. But this man, who because of worldly business was given over to the devil, and had breathed a little in a short space of time like a slave who has fled from a harsh master, approached that he might gain some profit. It would have been absurd, therefore, that he being left alone, I should spend time with you, when you are constantly at leisure for salvation." When, therefore, I had asked him to pray for me, I had explored that he was a spiritual man. Then, joking with me urbanely, when he had gently struck my left cheek, he says: "Many afflictions await you, and you have suffered heavy wars so that you might leave the desert, and being affected by fear, you delayed: but the demon, bringing forward pious pretexts and those that are consonant with reason, agitates you. For it suggested to you both the desire for your father, and the institution of your brother and your sister in the monastic life. Behold, therefore, I bring you good news: both are saved, for they have renounced the world, and your father is still to live seven years. Be, therefore, of a strong and constant mind in the desert, and do not wish to leave for the fatherland for their sake. For it is written: No man putting his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God (Luke IX)." Helped by these words, therefore, and sufficiently strengthened, I gave thanks to God, when I understood that they who were urging me were pretexts that had been finished. Then again he says to me, joking with me urbanely: "Do you wish to become a bishop?" But I said: "By no means; for I am." But he says to me: "Where?" I say: "In kitchens, in the pantry, at tables, in jars: these I inspect diligently, and if the wine has soured, I separate it; but I drink the good; likewise I also inspect the pot diligently, and if salt or any condiment is lacking, I season it, and so I eat it. This is my bishopric, my, I say, inspection, for gluttony chose me for it." But he said, smiling: "Put away the ridiculous ideas; it will happen that you will be chosen bishop, and will labor much, and be afflicted; if, therefore, you flee afflictions, do not leave the desert, for in the desert no one can ordain you bishop." But I forgot his words, for three years later I suffered in both the spleen and the stomach. From thence, however, I was sent by the brothers to Alexandria, for the disease was vergeing toward dropsy, but from Alexandria the doctors advised that for the sake of the air I should go into Palestine; for it has that which pertains to my temperament.

^A God; but his mother was nearly in danger. Go, therefore, and you will find the boy is seven days old, and you shall give him the name of John; and after having reared him with knowledge until he reaches his seventh year, send him to the monks in the desert. And these were the wonders he demonstrated to those coming from outside. But to his own fellow-citizens, who kept coming to him because of their needs, he used to reveal and foreknow things to come, and the things secretly done by each, and he would prophesy concerning the Nile and its fruitfulness. Likewise he would also announce some threat of God coming upon them, and expose those who were responsible. And the blessed John himself did not perform these healings openly, but by giving oil he healed most of those who were suffering. For a senator’s wife, having lost her vision and having developed white specks upon the pupils of her eyes, begged her husband to be taken to him. He was saying to his wife that he had never met the man; but she exhorted him only that it be made known to him, and that he perform a prayer on her behalf. As he did so, and sent oil, after she anointed her eyes, on the third day she regained her sight, and openly gave thanks to God.

^B For seven of us brothers were strangers together in the desert of Nitria—I, and those with the blessed Evagrius, Albinus, and Ammonius. We sought to learn the precision of what the virtue of the man was. Evagrius then says: "I was gladly learning from one who knows how to test mind and word, what sort of man he is. For if I learn, that I may encounter him; but if I do not learn of his conduct, I will not go away as far as the mountain." Having heard this, and having said nothing to anyone, I kept silence for one day; the next day I locked my cell, and having entrusted myself to God, I myself toiled on to the Thebaid. And I arrived in eighteen days, having traveled partly by land and partly by sailing on the river; the season was that of the inundation, during which many suffer from the south wind, which I also endured. Having departed, therefore, I found his entrance blocked. For the brothers had later built a very large entrance hall, in which there was room for about one hundred men. And they closed it with a key, opening it only on Saturday and Sunday. Having learned, then, the reason for which it was closed, having kept silence until Saturday, and having arrived at the second hour for a meeting with the righteous man, I found him sitting by the window. Why he seemed to be comforting those present: having greeted me, then, he was saying through an interpreter: ^D "Whence are you, and why have you come? For I suspect you are of the company of Evagrius." And while we were speaking in the meantime, the governor of the region entered, Alypius by name. Upon his running up, the great one ceased his conversation with me. Having withdrawn a little, therefore, I gave them space to be further off. But because they were speaking together for a long time, I became despondent, and becoming despondent, I grumbled against the elder, thinking he had despised me, but had honored that man. And being inflamed in my mind at this, I was considering withdrawing, having despised him. But the servant of Christ, having called the interpreter, Theodore by name, says to him: "Go, say to that brother, 'Do not be faint-hearted, I am just now dismissing the governor, and I will speak with you.'" I knew, therefore, accurately that he was spiritual, and that he foreknew [1114 / A] everything; and having paid heed to this, I waited patiently all the more. When the governor had left, therefore, he calls me, and says to me: "Why were you harmed against me? What offense did you find in me? Because you have reckoned those things which neither belong to me, nor was it proper for you to think such things. Or do you not know that it is written: 'They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick' (Matt. 9:12)? I find you when I will, and you me. And if I do not call for you, other brothers call for you, and other Fathers." This man, one handed over, betrayed to the devil through worldly affairs, and if having found a brief hour of respite, like a servant who has escaped a harsh master, so also this one, having found a brief hour, came to us to be helped. It was absurd, therefore, for us to have left him to spend time with you, while you are incessantly at leisure for salvation. Having exhorted him, therefore, to pray for me, I was fully persuaded that he is truly a spiritual man. Then, joking with me, he gently slapped my left cheek with his right hand, and says to me: "Many tribulations await you, and you were much troubled to leave the desert, and you were cowardly, and you hesitated." And the demon, I suppose, is stirring up for you pious and, so to speak, reasonable pretexts. For he suggested to you also the desire for your father, and the instruction of your brother, and of your sister for the monastic life. Behold, therefore, I bring you the good news that both were saved. For they renounced the world, and your father is going to live still for another seven years. Persevere, therefore, in the desert, and do not, for their sake, wish to depart to your fatherland. For it is written: 'No one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God' (Luke 9:62). Having been helped, therefore, by the words of the divinely inspired man, and having been sufficiently chastened, I gave thanks to God, having learned that the pretexts driving me had been accomplished by the foreknowledge of the holy man. Then again he says to me, joking, "Do you wish to become a bishop?" But I say to him, "I am." And he says to me, "Of what city?" I say to him, "Into the kitchens, into the taverns, to the tables, to the pots, I am a bishop over them. And if the wine be sour, I separate it; but I drink the good. Likewise I am a bishop over the pot; and if salt or any of the spices are lacking, I cast them into it, and I season it, and thus I eat it. This is my bishopric." For gluttony has ordained me. The blessed one says to me, smiling, "Leave off the jests. You have to be ordained a bishop, and to labor much, and to be troubled. If, therefore, you flee tribulations, do not leave the desert. For in the desert no one can ordain you a bishop." Having withdrawn from him, therefore, I came into the desert to my accustomed place, having related these very things to the holy Fathers concerning the inspired and spirit-bearing man. Who, after two months, having sailed over, came and met with this blessed one. But I, miserable, forgot his words, and after three years I fell ill with a sickness of the spleen and stomach, and from there I was sent to Alexandria by the brothers. For the affliction was already tending toward dropsy. From the Alexandrians again the doctors advised, for the sake of the air, that I should take to Palestine. For it has thinner air, as it were, according to our temperament. From Palestine again I reached

Bithynia; and in this, I know not how to say whether by human zeal or by the good pleasure of the Higher Power, God alone could know, I was counted worthy of an ordination above me, having shared in the adversity concerning the blessed John. And for eleven months, hiding in a dark cell, I remembered that blessed and wonderful man, for he had foretold to me these things which I have now undergone.

And the great athlete of Christ related this to me as well, as if needing to lead me through his story into the patience of the desert so that I might never be parted from it; for he said to me this: "I have forty-eight years in this cell; I have never seen the face of a woman, nor coin; no one has ever seen me chewing, nor has anyone ever seen me eating or drinking at any time."

Departing from him, therefore, I came into the desert to my accustomed place, having related these very things to the holy Fathers concerning the inspired man; and they, after two months, sailed over and came and met with him, and they themselves related to us what happened. When we went to him, he greeted us, looking affectionately upon each with a bright face. And we asked him straightway to perform a prayer for us (for this is the custom for all the Fathers who are in Egypt). He inquired whether any cleric might be among us. As we all said there was not, looking around at everyone, he recognized the one who was hidden (for there was indeed one among us deemed worthy of the ministry, one brother alone knowing this, to whom he had also commanded to say nothing, for humility’s sake, and because, in comparison with such saints and the title of Christians, he felt himself hardly worthy, let alone of the office). So, pointing him out with his hand, he said to all, "This is a deacon."

When he kept denying it and trying to remain hidden, he took him by the hand, kissed him through the window, and exhorted him, saying, "Do not reject the grace of God, my child; and do not lie by denying the gift of Christ. For falsehood is foreign to Christ and to Christians, even if it happens in a small matter, or in a great matter; and even if it becomes useful for this reason, yet it is not commendable, the Savior having said that falsehood is of the evil one." And he, being rebuked, grew silent, accepting his gentle reprimand.

^A When we had prayed and finished the prayer, one brother among us, being already seized by a severe tertian fever, asked to be healed. And when the Father told him that the affliction was temporarily profitable for him because of the little faith that had come upon him, he nevertheless gave him oil and commanded him to be anointed. After he had been anointed, he brought up all that he had inside through his mouth, and was completely delivered from the fever, and departed to the guest-house on his own feet.

It was possible to see him—already in his ninetieth year—withered in his whole body as if by asceticism, so that not even a beard had sprouted on his face. For he ate nothing else but fruit, and this after sunset, having practiced asceticism greatly at such an advanced age, and having partaken neither of bread nor of anything that has need of fire. ^B And when he ordered us to sit, we gave thanks to God for meeting him. And he, as one having received his own kin, with a smiling face addressed such words to us: "Whence, my children, and from what country have you come to a humble man? And we have come from Jerusalem," we said, "in order that we might receive with our eyes those things which we have heard with our ears (for ears are naturally more unbelieving than eyes, and because forgetfulness often follows upon hearing, whereas the memory of sight is not erased; but the history is as it were stamped upon the mind)."

The blessed man, answering, said to us, "And what wondrous thing were you going to see, most beloved children, that you have undergone such a journey and toil? You have desired to see humble and lowly men, having nothing worthy of contemplation or of wonder. But everywhere there are objects of wonder and praise, where the prophets and apostles of God are read in the churches, whom we ought to imitate. I marvel, he says, greatly at you and your zeal, how, having disregarded such dangers, you have come to us for edification, since we ourselves, through sloth, do not wish even to emerge from this cave.

^C "But now, he says, even if the matter has your praise, as having accomplished a good thing, and you seem to have enough, yet imitate the virtues which your fathers pursue. And if you should even acquire them all, which is rare, do not even then trust in yourselves. For some, having become thus bold, and having attained the very height of virtues, have in the end fallen from the high place. But see if it is well with you in your prayers; if the purity of your mind has not become clouded; if your intellect does not suffer distractions while standing in prayer to God; if some other thought has not slipped in and turned your intellect to something else; if the memory of improper reflections does not harass the mind.

"See if you have in truth renounced the world; if you have not come to spy upon our freedom; if you are not hunting for your own virtues out of vainglory, so that you might appear to be exposing them to men by imitating our deeds. See that no passion harasses you, no hypocrisy of priesthood, and no self-love; not thinking that there is honor and glory, and praise, that is human, and do not boast in righteousness. Do not let the memory of relatives be upon your mind while praying; do not let the memory of comfort, or any other passing thing, or even the whole world itself, remain. If not, the matter becomes vanity, when someone while conversing with the Master is carried away by opposing thoughts.

^D "And does everyone not suffer this slipping of the mind who has not completely renounced the world, but is hunting for its favor? For because of many undertakings, their thoughts—being bodily and earthly—are divided; and consequently, while struggling against the passions, one is not able to see God. But one ought not to apply himself too strictly even to this knowledge, lest, being unworthy of such a possession and having been counted worthy of something small, one might think he has grasped the whole, and might fall completely into corruption.

"But it is necessary to approach God always with moderation and reverence, as much as each is able, approaching with the mind, and as much as is practicable for a man. It is necessary, then, for those seeking God to let their mind be at leisure from all other things. 'Be at leisure,' he says, 'and know that I am God.' The one, therefore, who has been counted worthy of the knowledge of God in part (for it is impossible for anyone to receive the whole) attains also to the knowledge of all other things, and sees the mysteries that God shows to him and reveals, and he foresees things to come, and contemplates revelations which..."

I had mentioned as a better air. From Palestine, however, I came into Bithynia, and there, I know not how—whether by human effort or by divine will (God knows)—I was deemed worthy of an ordination that exceeds my strength, falling into that fate which John had predicted. And lying hidden for eleven months in a dark cell, I remembered that blessed man who had predicted to me those things which I have suffered.

Furthermore, he was also narrating this to me, as if he would benefit me in this way, in order to lead me by his narration to bear solitude patiently: "For forty years I have been dwelling in this cell; I have not seen the face of a woman, nor any coin, nor have I seen anyone eating, nor has anyone seen me eating or drinking." When, therefore, I had departed from him, I came into the solitude to the usual place, recounting all these things to the blessed Fathers ^B who arrived two months later and spoke with him, and they in turn recounted these things to us. When we had come to him, he received us with a joyful countenance and greeted us, showing himself cheerful toward each one. We asked him, however, to perform a prayer for us immediately, for this is the custom for the Fathers who are in Egypt. He, however, asked us if there were any cleric among us. But after we said that there was not, looking around at us all, he recognized the one who was concealed: for there was one among us who had been deemed worthy of the diaconate, since one brother was privy to this fact, whom he had even instructed to tell no one. He, out of humility, and by comparison with such Fathers, scarcely deemed himself worthy of the name "Christian," so far was he from any dignity. Therefore, pointing him out with his hand ^C, he was saying to all: "This is the deacon." When he kept denying this assiduously and trying to remain hidden, he grabbed his hand through the window and kissed it, and admonishing him, he exhorted him, saying: "Do not make the grace of God void, my son; do not tell a lie, denying the gift of God. For a lie is alien to Christians, and whether it be in a great matter or a small one, it is not laudable, since the Savior says: 'A lie is from the evil one' (John VIII)." He, in fact, convicted, remained silent, accepting his paternal rebuke.

When we had completed our prayers, one brother among us, whom a violent tertian fever was already holding, begged to be cured. But when the brother had said that the affliction served him well on account of the slight faith which was in him, he nonetheless handed him oil and ordered him to be anointed. When he had anointed himself, he vomited out whatever he had inside, and, having been entirely freed from the fever, he departed on his own feet to the hospice. ^D It was permitted, however, to see a man of ninety years so afflicted in his whole body that, from the austerity of his exercise, not even a beard had grown on his face. For he ate nothing else but the fruits of trees, and this after sunset in his extreme old age, when he had previously exercised himself much, and had neither taken bread nor anything from those things which come into use by being brought to the fire.

When he himself had ordered us to sit, we gave thanks to God that we might enjoy his company. He, however, when he had received us as his beloved sons for a long time, spoke these things to us with a smiling countenance: "From what region, O sons, and from where have you come to a man so abject and humble?" But after we had stated our homeland, and added: "We have come to you from Jerusalem for the benefit of our souls, so that what we had received by hearsay, we might see with our own eyes; for ears are less faithful than eyes, and while oblivion often follows upon hearsay, the history of what has been seen is not erased, but is in a certain way imprinted upon the mind." To us, therefore, blessed John said: "And what is there to be wondered at, O most dear sons, that you have come here, having tolerated such a journey and labor, desiring to see abject and humble men, who have nothing worthy of beholding nor of admiration? For everywhere there are God's prophets and apostles who are worthy of admiration and praise, who are read of in the churches, whom it behooves one to imitate. But I greatly marvel," he said, "at your zeal, how with so many dangers scorned, you have come to us for utility, whereas we, out of indifference, would not wish to depart even from the cave itself. But come now," he said, "even if your deed is worthy of praise, do not, as though it were some glorious feat, think it suffices you, but imitate the virtues which your fathers pursue. And if you have even attained to all of them, which indeed is rare, do not even then trust in yourselves. For some who have trusted in this way, and have reached the very pinnacle of virtue, have eventually fallen from on high. But see whether your prayers are properly conducted; whether the purity of your heart is disturbed; whether your mind is occupied with other business while praying; whether some other thought, entering your mind, turns it to something else; whether any memory of your thoughts shows distress to your soul. See whether you have truly renounced the world; whether you have entered as though spying on our liberty; whether you are hunting for human glory with your virtues, that you might appear to men for display by imitating our works. See that the disturbance of your soul does not cause you trouble, nor honor and glory and human praise, nor the pretense of concerns for sacred things, or self-love; do not think yourselves righteous; nor glory in your righteousness; do not be puffed up on account of virtues; let not the memory of kinship reside in your soul while praying; let not the memory of compassion or of any other thing, nor the entire world itself, occur to you. If not, the result becomes vanity, when one who is addressing the Lord is pushed downward by those thoughts that pull from the opposite direction. This lapse of mind happens to everyone who has not completely renounced this world, but honors it that he might please it. For because of the many things that he undertakes, corporeal and earthly cares divide his mind; and while he subsequently struggles with the perturbations of the soul, he cannot see God. But neither should he contemplate knowledge itself accurately and exactly, lest if by chance he be unworthy of such a possession, and having attained some part of it, he might think he has comprehended the whole, and fall entirely into ruin. But it is necessary always to approach God moderately and piously, as much as each one can progress in mind, and as much as men can attain. It is necessary, therefore, that the mind of those who seek God, [have] leisure...

to all others. "Be still," he says, "and know that I am God" (Ps. XLV). Whoever, therefore, has attained the knowledge of God in part—for no one can receive it in its entirety—likewise attains the knowledge of all other things, and sees the mysteries of God, as He shows them to him, and he foresees future events, and contemplates revelations such as the saints do, and performs miracles, and obtains every request from God.

He also said many other things about exercise: that one ought to await death as if it were the life of a good transition, and not to consider the weakness of the body; nor to fill the belly with whatever happens to be at hand. For he who has been sated, he says, has the same thoughts as those who live in luxury; but one ought to attempt through exercise also to prepare the impassibility of the appetites. Nor should anyone seek things that are prepared, and relaxation of soul; but let him be weak, afflicted, and oppressed, so that he may possess the inheritance of the width of the kingdom of God. For we must "enter the kingdom of God through many afflictions" (Act. XIV). For the gate is narrow, he says, and the way is constricted that leads to life, and there are few who find it. And: The way that leads to destruction is broad, and there are many who enter through it (Matth. VII). And we ought, he says, to despise things here, since a little later we go to eternal life. Nor ought anyone to be puffed up because of things well done by himself, but to be always humble, and to seek longer solitudes when he feels himself being puffed up. For a dwelling near villages often offends even those who are perfect. This is also what David sang when something of the sort had happened to him: "Lo, I have wandered far away, and have dwelt in the wilderness. I waited for Him who saves me from faint-heartedness and the storm" (Ps. LIV). This, however, happens to many of our brethren also, and because of arrogance they have fallen from their goal. ^C

CHAPTER XLIV. The narrative of Abbot John concerning the one who fell.

There was, he says, a certain monk who lived in a nearby wilderness in a cave, and had demonstrated every exercise, and sought bread for himself with his own hands (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 1). But after he had persisted in prayers and progressed in virtues, he thereafter had confidence in himself, relying on the beauty of his way of life. But he who tempts also sought him, as he did Job, to tempt him, and in the evening presented to him the phantom of a beautiful woman wandering through the wilderness. When she found the door open, she entered the cave; and prostrating herself at the man’s knees, she begged to be allowed to rest there, inasmuch as night had overtaken her. But he, having had pity on her—which he ought not to have done—admitted her into the cave, and questioned her about her error. She, however, both recounted it and sprinkled in smooth and deceptive words, and prolonged the conversation with him for a long time. She was gradually alluring him, I know not how, toward love; and they joined many words together one after the other, and they laughed and smiled, and as she seduced him with much speech, and then by the touching of hands and beard and neck, ^A and at last reduced the exerciser into slavery.

But while he was occupied with internal thoughts, and then, as one who already had the matter in hand, considering the opportunity and the gratification of his lust, he assents to the thought, and attempts to have intimacy with her—as one who had already escaped, he became foolish and like a horse lusting after women. She, however, having suddenly cried out with a loud voice, escaped, vanishing from his hands no differently than some shadow. But a laugh is heard in the air from many demons who were mocking him and had led him into deception, and they shouted to him with a loud voice: "He who exalts himself shall be humbled" (Lucæ XIV). "But you, indeed, were exalted to the heavens, yet you have been humbled to the abyss." From then on he rose in the morning, dragging along nocturnal mourning; and when he had spent the whole day in lamentation, for his desperate ^B salvation, he returned to the world, which he ought not to have done. For this is the design of the wicked one, that when he has mocked someone, he should reduce him to folly, so that he cannot subsequently rise. Whence, oh sons, a dwelling near villages is not beneficial to us, nor the conversation of women, as from these arises a memory which cannot be erased, which we draw from sight and conversation. But we ought not to despond in our soul, and cast ourselves down into desperation. For even those already who have not cast away hope have not been deprived of the clemency of the merciful God.

CHAPTER XLV. Of a brother who was led by repentance, the narrative of the same Abbot John.

For there was, he says, another young man in the city who had done many evil things and had sinned gravely (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 1). Being pricked by divine providence on account of his many sins, coming to the tombs, he wept for his former life; falling prone upon his face, and not daring to utter a voice, nor to name God, nor to supplicate, deeming himself unworthy of life itself. And when, before his death, he had shut himself up in the tombs of the dead and was telling of his life, he groaned from the depth of his heart. But when a week had now passed from that time, demons stand by him at night, they who had previously brought damage to his life, crying out and saying: "Where is that wicked and profane one, who, sated with lusts and lasciviousness, now suddenly appeared to us intemperate, yet temperate and honest; and ^D when he can no longer, he then wants to be a Christian and of upright and composed morals? What more good do you expect to have, seeing that you are filled with our evils? Will you not soon rise from here? Will you not come to those things which are customary with us? Harlots and tavern-keepers await you. Will you not come, and enjoy the lusts, when all other hope is extinguished for you? Swift judgment will come to you entirely, you who so destroy yourself. And why, wretch, are you in a hurry for punishment? Why are you striving to inflict torments upon yourself more quickly?" And saying many other things: "You are ours, you have been brought into our order, you have practiced every iniquity. You are liable to us all, and do you dare to flee? Will you not agree? Will you not respond? Will you not come out with us?" But after he was constant

^A in his resolve, he had already surrendered to his thoughts, and he attempted to come together with her, having become a fool, and lust-driven, and a stallion. But she, suddenly crying out loudly, vanished from his hands, like some shadow that had fled away. And laughter from the air reached his ears from many demons, mocking him, and leading him astray by deceit, crying out to him in a loud voice: "Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled. But you, who were exalted as far as the heavens, have been humbled as far as the abyss." From that point he rose up, dragging along a nocturnal sorrow, and having spent the day in lamentations, having despaired of his own salvation—which he ought not to have done—he returned again to the world. For this is the design of the evil one: when he has overthrown someone, he casts him into folly, so that from then on he can no longer rise. Hence, O children, the settling near towns does not profit us, nor the company of women, which stirs up an indelible memory that we drag along from the sight and the conversation. Nor should we despair of ourselves and lead ourselves into hopelessness. For already many, even those who have not despaired, have not been deprived of the philanthropy of the merciful God. ^B

CHAPTER XLV

Narrative of the brother who was moved to repentance, by the same Abba John.

For there was another, he says, a young man in the city who had committed very many things and had sinned grievously, who, being stung by a nod of God for his many sins, and having reached the tombs, lamented his former life, casting himself onto his face, not even daring to utter a sound, nor to call upon God, nor to supplicate, deeming himself unworthy even of life itself, and before death he had shut himself up in the graveyards; and having renounced his own life, he only groaned from the depths of his heart. As a week had passed over him, in the night the demons who had previously corrupted his life stood over him; shouting and saying: "Where is that filthy one, who was sufficiently sated with lewdness, now appearing to us as untimely temperate and good, and because he can no longer be, then he wishes to be a Christian and orderly? And what good do you expect to be yours, having been filled with our evils? Will you not quickly rise from there? Will you not come with us to the accustomed things? Whores and the innkeeper are awaiting you! Will you not go out and enjoy the desires, with all your other hope having been shattered? Quick judgment will come to you, thus destroying yourself. And why do you hasten toward punishment, O wretched one? And why do you contend, for the penalty to come upon you more quickly?" And saying many other things: "You are ours, you will be allied to us; you have practiced every iniquity, you have become liable to us all, and do you dare to flee? Will you not answer? Will you not agree? Will you not come out with us?" But after he remained constant ^C in his wailing, and did not even offer his hearing to them, nor did he answer them a word, ^D there was a monk, he says, living in the nearby desert, in a cave, having demonstrated every exercise and providing his own bread with his own hands. And as he was persistent in prayers and was progressing in virtues, he henceforth put confidence in himself, trusting in his fine conduct. But the tempter, as he asked for Job, so he asked for him. And indeed, he presented to him toward evening a fantasy of a beautiful woman wandering about the desert, who, finding the door open, darted into the cave, and falling at the knees of the man, asked him for rest, as evening had overtaken her. But as he had pity on her—which he ought not to have done—he received her into the cave, although he asked her about her wandering; and she, as she reported it, sowed words of flattery and deceit into him, and prolonged their conversation for a long time, and quietly, in a way, invited him to love; and more words henceforth passed between them, and laughter, and smiling. Much conversation led him astray, and from that point on, with a touch of the hand and chin and neck, she ensnared the ascetic for a time. And as he was turning things over inside from his thoughts, as one who, in reality, had the thing in hand, the opportunity and the

^A necessity of the body, he would find food, and having worshipped and feasted again, he would enjoy his hymns, persistently adhering to prayer and contemplation, flourishing day by day, and advancing ever more toward the greater measure of his hope; and he was almost confident regarding his better status, as if he already held it in his hands—which indeed happened to him, having almost fallen from the temptation that came upon him afterwards. For why do I not speak of his near fall? For as he advanced to this state of mind, he grew unaware of himself, thinking he was something more than the many, and knowing that he possessed something greater than other men; and being such, he thereafter relied upon himself. Thus, there is born in him, not long after, first a certain small laxity—so small that it did not even seem to be laxity—then there grows a greater negligence, then as much as there can be awareness. And indeed, he would rise from sleep more sluggishly for the hymns, the prayer was already more idle, and the hymn not so extended; and the soul, he says, wishing to rest, the mind fell down, and the thoughts suffered certain wanderings; and somewhere in the hidden depths, a certain negligence was being cultivated; yet the habit from before somehow kept leading the ascetic on, like an impetus from that former zeal, and for a time it kept him safe. And once, having entered after his customary prayers toward evening, he found bread on the table provided for him by God, and he was restored; but he did not cast off those diminutions from his mind, nor did he reckon that such oversights harm one's zeal, nor did he turn to the healing of the evil, but thought his little falling away from what was required trivial. Consequently, a desire for lust seized him and carried him off into the world by his thoughts; nevertheless, restraining himself for the time being, the next day he turned to his customary asceticism, and having prayed and chanted, he went into the cave, ^B and found the bread lying there for him; but not so neatly maintained and pure, but somehow already soiled. And marveling and having become somewhat dejected, he nevertheless partook and was restored. A third night passed, and a triple evil was added. For his mind descended more quickly into thoughts. The memory was disposed towards him as if a woman were present and lying with him. He had the thing before his eyes, and he continued as if he were doing it. Yet he went out the third day to his work, and to the prayer and the hymns, no longer having pure reflections, but frequently turning around and distracted, casting his eyes hither and thither. For the memories of his reflections were cutting off his good work. In the evening, therefore, he returned wanting bread, but he found it on the table as if eaten by flies or dogs, and only something of the dry remnants on the outside. Then he groans and weeps, but not as much as was sufficient, nor as much as was needed to restrain the impropriety, and turning back, he was not as much as he wished prepared to rest. But the thoughts came upon him all at once, surrounding him from all sides, and they war against his mind, and straightaway they take him captive into the world. Rising, he went off toward the inhabited world, traveling through the desert by night. And when the day overtook him, and he was still far from the inhabited world ^C

CHAPTER XLVI: A narrative of abbot John concerning one who had fallen and repented.

There was also another monk who had occupied the far desert, and over many years had achieved great virtues. In his old age, he finally began to be tempted by the schemes of the demons. For he was a very great ascetic who cherished silence, and passed the days in many prayers and hymns and contemplations, and he clearly beheld certain more divine visions. This he did while awake, and this while asleep, and he had almost grasped a trace of the angelic life, not planting the earth, nor taking thought for sustenance, nor seeking among the plants what might provide for the body in its need; he did not even look for wild herbs, nor did he hunt birds or any other animal. But full of trust in God from the time he came there from the world, he had no account of how his body might remain nourished. But willingly, in forgetfulness of all things, he held himself back, remaining in perfect longing for God and waiting for the call and the translation from the world, and for the most part, he was nourished by the delight of things seen and hoped for, and his body was not wasted away by the duration, nor was his soul despondent, but he kept a good state of being in a certain solemnity; however, God honoring him, for a certain appointed time, would give bread on the table, such that he appeared and was and used it; and entering into the cave ^D

in lamentations, nor did he even lend his ears to them, nor would he return a word to the demons who were long pressing him. After, I say, they had achieved nothing, having often said the same things to him, the evil and shameful demons took him and cruelly battered his whole body, striking him severely with scourges. And when they had tortured him grievously, they departed, leaving him half-dead. He, however, none the less lay motionless where they had left him, groaning once more only after he had collected his spirit. But when his kin had tracked him down and found him, and learned the reason for what had happened to his body, they begged him to return home; and though they often used force upon him, he resisted. But on the following night, the demons once more, for the same reasons, afflicted him even worse than before; yet even so his kin could not persuade him to leave, as he said it was better to die than to live in such stains of life. The third night brought him almost to the point of departing from among men, when the demons fell upon him with cruel torments and vexed him to his very last breath. But when they saw that he had not yielded, they withdrew, leaving the man as if lifeless. Departing, therefore, they shouted, saying: "You have won, you have won, you have won." Nor did any other evil befall him; but he lived in the purest tomb in purity as long as he lived, practicing pure virtue. He was also precious to God, and in virtues and in the working of miracles; so much so that he brought many to admiration, and stirred them to zeal and emulation of his honorable ways. Hence it came to pass that many who had despaired greatly of themselves undertook good actions and conducted themselves rightly, and to them occurred that which the Scripture says: "Everyone who humbles himself shall be exalted" (Luke xiv). Especially, therefore, O sons, let us exercise humility, which is the primary foundation of all virtues. To us, moreover, a longer and more remote solitude also contributes much.

CHAPTER XLVI. Another narrative of Abbot John, concerning him who fell and was led to repentance.

For there was also another monk who had occupied a more remote solitude and for many years had conducted himself rightly and with virtue. When he eventually was worn out by old age, he was tempted by the snares of the demons. For the practitioner greatly embraced silence, and he passed the day in prayers and hymns and many contemplations, and he saw certain divine visions clearly, partly indeed while awake, but partly also in sleep; and almost entirely devoid of sleep, he was held by an incorporeal life, not tilling the earth, nor taking any care for food, nor seeking in plants what to offer to his needy body. Nor did he hunt birds, nor pursue any animal; but, full of confidence from the time he had migrated there from the habitable region, he had no consideration as to how his body might remain nourished, but, forgetful of all things, he sustained himself purely in desire for God, awaiting his calling and his migration from this world; and for the most part, he was nourished by the delight of those things ^A which are not seen but hoped for, and his body was not wasted by a long interval, nor was his soul mournful or sad, but he possessed a good disposition in a certain honorable and venerable state. Nevertheless, God, honoring him, after a predetermined interval of time, gave him bread upon his table for two or three days, so that it might be seen, and exist, and he might use it. And entering the cave, when he felt his body in need, he found the nourishment. And when he had prayed and taken food, he again enjoyed hymns, persevering in prayers and contemplation, germinating day by day, and surrendering himself to present virtue and future hope, ever progressing more and more; and by now he almost trusted in his better lot, as if he already held it in his hands: which was also the cause of his fall, since he almost slipped through the temptation that later invaded him. For why do we not speak of his fall that was near? For after he proceeded to this thought, little by little, while imprudent, he arrived at the point of thinking himself to be of more value than others, and that he already possessed something greater than other men; and when he was such, he by now had confidence in himself. Therefore, not long after, a certain small slackening of the spirit is born in him, so that it might not even be seen to be a slackening. Then a greater negligence arises, which thereafter progressed to the point that it was felt; for he awoke more slowly from sleep for hymns, and his prayers were somewhat more idle, nor was the hymn so long, and his soul says to him that it wants to rest, and his mind consents to it; and his thoughts were wavering and wandering, and now he was secretly meditating on something absurd. But the previous habituation still led the practitioner some way, as a certain momentum from that previous incitement, and sustained him in the meantime. And sometimes, entering in the evening after his accustomed prayers, he found bread upon the table which was provided for him divinely, and refreshed himself. At which time he neither cast away those execrable thoughts, nor considered the soul to be harmed by the contempt, nor was he converted to seek a cure for the evil; but he deemed it of little account that he was not far from falling away from what is fitting. And so the love of desire, having snatched him away in thought, led him off into the habitable region. Although he had nevertheless restrained himself in the meantime, on the following day, turning to his accustomed exercise, when he had prayed and said his hymns, entering the cave, he found indeed bread set before him, but not so carefully prepared, nor so pure, but dirty and defiled. Which, even though he was surprised by it, and felt sadness—he took it nonetheless, and refreshed himself. A third night succeeded, and it added a triple evil. For his mind quickly burst into thoughts. And his memory was so affected that a woman seemed to be present with him and to lie down at the same time, and he had that matter in his eyes, and he persevered as if doing that thing. He went out, however, on the third day as well to his work, and prayers, and hymns, but no longer having pure thoughts, but frequently turning, he raised his eyes on high, turning them hither and thither; for the memories of his thoughts were interrupting his beautiful work. Therefore in the evening he re-

received as food what he found on the table, as if it had been gnawed by mice or dogs, or certain dry scraps found outside. Then he groaned and wept, though not as much as was necessary for the suppression of his wickedness. ^A And though not nourished as much as he wished, he prepared himself for rest. But thoughts invaded him in masses, surrounding him on every side; they attacked his mind and immediately led him away as a captive into the world. Rising, he went towards the inhabited region, entering the wilderness by night. When day had overtaken him, and the inhabited area was still far off, and the heat afflicted him, he became exhausted. Looking around everywhere in a circle, he scanned the horizon to see if a monastery might appear anywhere into which he might enter and rest. This indeed occurred, with certain pious and faithful brothers receiving him who, when they looked upon him as a true father, washed his face and feet; and when they had prayed, they set a table and asked that he eat with charity what had been set before him. But after he had refreshed himself, the brothers asked that they might receive from him a word of salvation, and by what method they might be saved from the snares of the devil, and how they might overcome foul thoughts. He, admonishing them as a father does his sons, exhorted them to be strong and constant in their labors, as those who were shortly to be settled in perfect rest. Discussing many other things with them concerning such exercise, he greatly benefited them. When he had ceased from his admonition, and had collected himself a little, he considered how, while admonishing others, he had not been admonishing or correcting himself; and realizing that he had been vanquished, he returned in hast to the wilderness, weeping for himself and saying: "Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had almost dwelt in hell" (Ps. XCIII). "I have been brought near to every evil; I have been all but undone on earth." And in this, that which is written was fulfilled: "A brother helped by a brother is like a fortified and exalted city, and like a wall that cannot fall" (Prov. XVIII). Although from that time on he mourned throughout his whole life, deprived of the meal that was given to him divinely, and seeking his own bread with labor. For when he had shut himself in a cave, and had spread sackcloth and ashes beneath himself, he did not rise from the earth, nor did he cease to weep, until he heard the voice of an angel saying to him in his sleep: "The Lord has accepted your repentance, and has had mercy on you; but from now on, see that you are not deceived. For the brothers whom you admonished will come to you and will bring you gifts; when you have received them, you shall eat with them and will give perpetual thanks to God." ^B Therefore, I have told you these things, O sons, that you may practice humility, whether you seem to be in small things or in great. For this is the first precept of the Savior, who says: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. V). And lest you be deceived by demons, who stir up visions and phantasms for you; but if anyone comes to you, either a brother, or friend, or woman, or father, or master, or mother, or sister, first extend your hands to prayer; and if it be a phantasm, it will flee from you. And if the demons deceive you or men, do not yield to them, nor be lifted up in your mind: for me too, demons have often deceived in the night in this way; and they would neither let me pray, nor rest, presenting certain phantasms to me all night long, and in the morning, mocking me, they would prostrate themselves on the ground, saying: "Forgive us, abba, for the labors we have caused you all night." But I used to say to them: "Depart from me, all you who work iniquity (Ps. VI); do not tempt the servant of the Lord."

Therefore, you too, O sons, pursue rest, always exercising yourselves for contemplation, so that you may possess a pure mind, praying to God. For he too is a good trainer who is assiduously exercised in the world and is occupied in honorable actions: one who shows humanity and clemency, hospitality and charity, and has given alms, and does good to those who arrive, and brings aid to those who labor, and remains without any offense. This person is indeed also very good; for he is engaged in action and carries out the precepts; but he is occupied with earthly things. ^C Those who are engaged in contemplation are certainly more excellent and greater, who transfer themselves from active concerns to understanding, leaving those things to be provided for by others; while he himself, having denied himself and being forgetful of himself, investigates heavenly things, standing before God, free and unencumbered by all things, being drawn back by no other care. For he who is of such a kind lives together with God, dwells together with God, always praising God with assiduous hymns. For I know a man in the wilderness who for ten years tasted nothing of earthly food, but an angel would bring heavenly food to him every third day and place it in his mouth, and that was to him like food and drink. I know also that demons had come to this man in a phantasm, showing him angelic hosts, and chariots of fire, and many attendants, as if a king were coming, and saying to him: "In all things you have acted rightly and virtuously, O man; hereafter worship me, and I shall take you up as Elias." The monk, however, was saying to himself: "I worship my King and Savior daily; and if this were He, He would not ask this of me." After he had told Him what he had in his mind: "I have my Lord and King, God, whom I always worship, but you are not my king," the spirit immediately vanished. ^D He related these things as if speaking of another, wishing to conceal his own way of life and deeds. But the fathers who were with him said that he had seen these things. The blessed John, relating these and many other things to us, and discussing them through three days until the ninth hour, healed our souls. And when he had given us blessings, he ordered us to go in peace, also telling us a certain prophecy: "Today," he said, "victory has been announced in Alexandria for the most pious Theodosius, because the tyrant Eugenius has been removed from the midst, and the emperor must die a natural death," which indeed truly came to pass. It was possible, however, to behold the multitude of monks who were with him in the church, as if they were certain choirs of the just, dressed in bright robes and glorifying God with constant hymns.

^A Therefore, do you likewise pursue stillness, always practicing for contemplation, so that you may acquire a pure mind as you pray to God. For while that ascetic is also good who constantly practices in the world and busies himself in good deeds, showing brotherly love, hospitality, charity, and almsgiving, and doing good to those present and helping the weary, and remaining unoffended—he is indeed good and very good, for he is a man of action and a worker of the commandments—yet he is occupied with earthly things. Greater and better than he is that contemplative one, who, having ascended from active works to understanding, has left these things for others to worry about; and having renounced even himself, and being forgetful of himself, he is busied with heavenly things, standing before God, freed from all, dragged back by no other care. For such a one gathers for God, lives a citizen’s life for God, and is always praising God with unceasing hymns.

I know, for my part, a man in the desert who tasted no earthly food for ten years; but an angel brought him heavenly food every three days and placed it in his mouth, and this became his food and drink. And I know this man, that the demons came to him in visions, showing angelic hosts, and chariots of fire, and a great bodyguard, as if some king were visiting, and saying to him, "You have accomplished everything, man; now worship me, and I will take you up like Elijah." But the monk said in his mind, "Every day I worship my King and Savior, and if you were He, you would not ask this of me." And as soon as he said in the thoughts of his mind, "I have my King [and] God, whom I always worship; you are not my King," the demon immediately vanished. In saying these things as if they were about another, he wished to hide his own manner of life; but the Fathers who were with him said that it was he who had seen these things.

^D The blessed John recounted these and many other things to us, discoursing for three days until the ninth hour, healing our souls. Having given us blessings, he commanded us to depart in peace, having even spoken a prophecy to us: that on that very day the news of the victory of the pious Emperor Theodosius had arrived in Alexandria, regarding the overthrow of the tyrant Eugenius, and that the Emperor must die a natural death; all of which happened in truth just so. It was a sight to behold the multitude of monks who were with him in the church, as if they were certain choirs of the just, dressed in bright robes and glorifying God with constant hymns.

And as we looked upon many other Fathers, ^A there came brethren announcing to us that the blessed John had been perfected in a wondrous manner. For, having commanded that no one be permitted to approach him for three days, he bowed his knees in prayer and was perfected, departing to God. To whom be glory forever. Amen.

Chapter XLVII. Concerning Poemenia.

This man, furthermore, did not meet in person the servant of Christ, Poemenia, when she called upon him for the sake of the story, but he revealed to her certain of his secrets and warned her, as she was coming down from the Thebaid, not to divert her course to Alexandria, since she would happen upon temptations. But she, either disregarding the prophecy of the great man or having forgotten it, detoured to Alexandria for the sake of the story, perhaps wishing to see the city. While on the road, near the city of Nikiou, she had her boats taken from her for the sake of recreation. And so, the servants, coming out, due to some lack of order engaged in a fight with the savage local inhabitants; these men indeed cut off the finger of one eunuch and murdered another, and even threw the holy Bishop Dionysios into the river, though they did not know who he was; and they washed her herself in reproaches and frightened her with threats, having wounded all the rest of the servants.

Chapter XLVIII. Concerning Abba Ammonas.

^B We saw in the Thebaid another man by the name of Ammonas, a Father of monks to the number of about three thousand; these they also called Tabennesiotes, having a great rule, and wearing sheepskins, and eating with their faces covered, looking downward, so that no one might see his neighbor eating, and practicing great silence, as if they were in the deserts, each performing his own rule in secret, only sitting in the form of a table, and eating in pairs, trying to go unnoticed by one another. For some of them brought their hand to their mouth once or twice, touching the bread or oil or anything set before them, and having tasted of each side-dish once, they were satisfied with this food. Others, chewing the bread gently and without pretense, thus persevered in the presence of others. Others would taste only a third part of the broth, and would abstain from the rest. All these things, having admired them according to reason, I did not pass over, for the benefit to be had from them.

Chapter XLIX. Concerning Abba Be.

We saw also another elder, exceeding all men in gentleness, by the name of Be. The brethren around him affirmed that he never swore, nor lied, nor became angry at anyone, nor ever rebuked with a word. For his life was very quiet, and his character gentle, possessing an angelic state. He was also exceedingly humble, and held himself in low regard. For when many of us ^A were beseeching him to say to us some exhortatory word, he could barely endure to discuss even a little concerning gentleness. This man, when a hippopotamus once was wreaking havoc on the neighboring land, stood by the place, having been entreated by the farmers, and seeing that the beast was of extraordinary size, he commanded it with a gentle voice, saying: "I command you in the name of Christ no longer to harm the land." And it, as if driven from the place by an angel, became altogether invisible. In the same way, he also drove away a crocodile at another time.

Chapter L. Concerning Abba Theonas.

We saw also another man not far from the city in the desert, by the name of Theonas, a holy man, shut up alone in a small dwelling, having practiced silence for thirty years; who, performing many powers, was considered by them to be a prophet. For a multitude of the sick used to come out to him daily. And through a window he would lay his hands upon them and send them away whole. It was possible to see him—possessing the face of an angel, joyful to the eyes, and full of great grace in his entirety. When not long ago robbers came upon him by night, thinking they would find gold with him, and wishing to kill him, he prayed, and they remained motionless by the doors until dawn. When the crowds came to him, and they were intending to hand them over to fire, he was compelled to utter one word to them: "Let these men go away whole; if not, the grace of healings will flee from me." And they listened to him. For they did not even dare to gainsay him. And immediately the robbers changed their way in the monasteries in the vicinity along with the monks, and repented for what had been done. The man had been trained in a triple grace of language, in Greek, Latin, and Egyptian readings, as we learned from many and from that man himself. For recognizing that we were strangers, he wrote on a tablet to God giving thanks for us. He used to eat raw seeds. And he would go out, as they say, by night from his cell, and would herd with wild beasts, and would water them from whatever water he had. For it was possible to see the tracks of buffaloes and wild asses and certain gazelles ^D in the vicinity of his monastery, in which he always took delight.

Chapter LI. Concerning Abba Elias.

We saw also another elder of the metropolis of Antinoö in the Thebaid, being over one hundred and ten years old; upon whom it was said that the spirit of the prophet Elias had rested. For he was famous, having spent seventy years in that fearful desert. Yet language worthy of that rugged wilderness cannot describe the mountain in which he sat, never having descended into the inhabited world. There was a narrow path of those coming to him, so that those arriving could barely step in the tracks, with wild stones lying about on this side and that. And he was sitting under a certain rock in

After I had seen many other Fathers as well, brothers came to us announcing that blessed John had departed in a wonderful manner: for when he had commanded that for three days no one be allowed to come to him, he knelt for prayer, and thus he was perfected, departing to God, to whom be glory forever.

Chapter XLVII. On Poemenia.

Chapter XLVIII: The life of Abbot Ammonas and those who were with him.

CHAPTER XLIX. On Abbot Be.

CHAPTER L. On Abbot Theonas.

CHAPTER LI. On Abbot Elias.

in the cave, such that even to see him was fearful. He was already trembling, as one whom old age was crushing. Many signs, however, he performed daily, and he did not cease to heal the sick. The fathers who were with him said that no one remembered his ascent into the mountain. In his old age, he ate three ounces of bread and three olives in the evening. In his youth, however, he always ate only once a week.

CHAPTER LII. Life of Abbot Apollo (100)

We saw also another holy man in the Thebaid, in the borders of Hermopolis (Ruff., lib. ii, cap. 7): into which the Savior came with holy Mary and Joseph, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, which says: *Behold, the Lord sits upon a light cloud, and shall come into Egypt; and the works of the hands of Egypt shall be shaken at his presence, and they shall fall to the earth* (Isa. xix). For we saw there also a temple in which, when the Savior entered the city, all the idols fell upon their faces to the ground. We saw there also in the wilderness a man by the name of Apollo, who had monasteries upon the hill. He was indeed the father of about five hundred monks, and he was very famous and celebrated in the Thebaid; his works were great, and the Lord performed great virtues through him; and most numerous signs and marvels were wrought through him. For this man, having shown much training from his youth, in his perfect age attained such grace. For when he was eighty years old, he gathered to himself a great monastery of perfect men, who were nearly all able to perform signs. He, having withdrawn from the world when he was fifteen years old, had spent forty years in the wilderness, and had exercised every virtue therein: he was later seen to hear the voice of God, saying to him: "Apollo, Apollo, through you I will abolish the wisdom of the wise in Egypt and the prudence of the prudent nations. For you shall destroy with them for me the wise men of Babylon, and you shall take away from the midst every demonic cult; and now go into the region that is inhabited; for you shall beget for me a peculiar people, zealous of good works." He, however, answering, said: "Take away from me, Lord, arrogance, lest, being puffed up above the brotherhood, I be deprived of every good work" (Tit. ii). To him, however, the divine voice said again: "Place your hand upon your neck, and then you shall grasp and bury in the sand." And he, when he had placed his hand upon his neck, grasped a small Ethiopian, and buried him in the sand while he was crying out and saying: "I am the demon of pride." And again the voice came to him, saying: "Go, for whatever you shall ask of God, you shall receive." And when he had first heard this, he set out into the region that is inhabited, in the time of the tyrant Julian, and then he came into the nearby wilderness.

When he had occupied a certain small cave, he remained under the mountain. His work was to offer prayers throughout the whole daylight space; at night indeed one hundred times, and during the day as many times, with bended knees. His nourishment then, just as before, was miraculously provided beyond expectation by reason from God. Food was brought to him in the wilderness by an angel. His garment, however, was a lebiton, which some call a colobium, and a small linen cloth upon his head. For these remained to him in the wilderness, nor did they grow old. He was, moreover, in a wilderness near the land that is inhabited, working signs and virtues in the power of the Spirit: which, because of the singular magnitude of the miracle, no one can recount, as we have heard from the elders who conversed with him, who themselves also were perfect men, and presided over many brothers. He was therefore immediately famous and celebrated, as some new prophet or apostle who had come to our age; and when great fame concerning him had been spread, all the monks who lived scattered round about were always coming to him, and as to a true father, they offered him their souls as gifts. He, however, some he exhorted to contemplation; others, however, he instructed so that they might pursue virtue, which resides in action, first showing by deed those things which he exhorted them to do by word. For often, showing them exercise, he conversed with them on the Lord’s day alone: he indeed taking nothing more than the herbs which grow of their own accord upon the earth; not bread in the meantime nor legumes, eating nothing from the fruits of trees, nor whatever things come into the use of men brought to the fire.

When, however, at the time of Julian, he had once heard that a brother had been captured in the army and was held bound in custody, he approached him with the brotherhood, asking and admonishing him to be strong and constant in labors, and not to despise the perils imminent to him. For he says it is to him a time of struggle, that then also his soul may be proven by the assault of temptations. But after he had confirmed his soul with these words, a tribune arriving, who was carried along by a certain impetus of wickedness, when someone had indicated to him concerning them, having closed the gates of the prison, he included both him and all the monks who were with him, as if they were fit for military service; and when he had appointed as many guards as were sufficient over them, he returned home, not even enduring to be asked by them upon their hearing. But at midnight, an angel bearing a lamp appears to the guards, illuminating with light all who were in the prison, so that the guards stood agape with stupor. Who, when they had risen, asked them that they should all depart, with the doors opened to them; for they confessed that it was better to die for them than to despise the freedom which had come to them divinely, which they were detaining without reason. The tribune therefore, coming in the morning with the magistrates to the custody, contended that the men should depart from the city; for he said his house had fallen by an earthquake, and the best of his servants had been crushed. They, however, hearing these things, giving thanks to God, went away into the wilderness, and they were all together, as the Apostle says, having one heart and one soul (Acts iv). He taught them, however, daily to be adorned with virtues, and the engines of the devil in thoughts at the beginning immediately

^A many times in the day, bending the knees.

He trembled besides, held fast by his old age. Yet he did not cease daily to perform many signs and to heal those who were sick. The Fathers said concerning him that no one could remember his ascent to the mountain. In his old age he ate three ounces of bread in the evening, and three olives. But in his youth he was accustomed to eat only once a week.

CAPUT LII. On the life of Abba Apollo.

We also beheld another holy man by the name of Apollo, in the Thebaid, in the borders of Hermopolis; in which place the Savior with the Virgin Mary and righteous Joseph had arrived, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, who says: "Behold, the Lord sits upon a light cloud, and shall come into Egypt; and the works of the hands of Egypt shall be shaken before His face, and shall fall to the earth" (Isa. xix, 1). We saw there also the temple where the Savior had entered into the city, and all the idols had fallen upon their faces to the ground. We saw, then, this man in the desert beneath the mountain, having a monastery, a Father to about five hundred monks; for he was renowned in the Thebaid; and great works were his, and the Lord did great powers through him. And very many signs were performed through him. For this man, having shown great asceticism from his youth, in the end of his life attained to such grace. For being eighty years of age, he had gathered to himself a great monastery of five hundred perfect men, capable of performing signs of almost all kinds. This man, having withdrawn from the world at fifteen years of age and having spent forty years in the desert, having practiced every virtue precisely, later he thought to hear the voice of God saying to him: "Apollo, Apollo, through you I will invalidate the wisdom of the Egyptians and the understanding of the prudent nations. And you shall destroy for me along with them the sages of Babylon, and you shall cause all demonic worship to disappear. And now go into the world. For you shall produce for me a peculiar people, zealous for good works." But he, answering, said: "Take away from me, Master, pride, lest having been exalted above the brotherhood, I forfeit all goodness." And again the divine voice said to him: "Place your hand upon your neck; and you shall grasp, and you shall bury her in the sand." And he, quickly placing his hand upon his neck, grasped a small Ethiopian; and he buried him in the sand, as he cried out and said: "I am the demon of pride." And again a voice came to him, saying: "Go, for whatever you shall ask from God, you shall receive." And he, hearing this immediately, set forth into the world, during the time of Julian the tyrant, and he stayed for a while in the nearby desert.

Having occupied a small cave, he remained there beneath the mountain. And his work was entirely to render daily prayers to God, a hundred times by night, ^B and as many times in the day, bending the knees.

His food meanwhile was provided as at first by God out of helplessness. For in the desert his food was brought by an angel. And his garment was the lebiton, which some call a colobion, and a small towel upon his head. For these remained with him in the desert without wearing out. He was, therefore, in the desert near the inhabited land, living in the power of the Spirit, and performing astonishing signs and wonders, which no one could recount in their entirety due to the excess of wonder, as we heard from the presbyters who were with him, and who were themselves perfect and leaders of a large brotherhood. Therefore, the man became immediately famous, as if a new prophet and apostle had visited our generation. And as much fame regarding him ran about, all the monks who were living scattered nearby always reached him, offering their souls to him as a genuine father as gifts. He called some to contemplation, while he urged others to set forth toward practical virtue; showing first by deed those things which he exhorted others to do by word. For often, showing them asceticism, he would share with them only on Sunday; he himself, or as much as grew spontaneously from the earth of herbs, he was not nourished by bread, or pulse, or some of the fruits in the plants, nor those which have use through fire.

^C Hearing at one time, in the days of Julian, that a brother had been seized for military service and was sitting in a prison in bonds, he arrived at him with the brotherhood, exhorting him and advising him to endure in the toils, and to despise the dangers coming upon him. For he says it is a time of struggles for him, and then his resolve is tested by the assault of temptations. But as he strengthened his soul, the chiliarch, having alighted upon these words, being carried by a rush of wickedness, upon someone announcing something about them to him, having placed bars on the doors of the prison, he locked both him and all the monks with him inside, as if they would be suitable for military service, and having commissioned sufficient guards for them, he departed to his own house, not even enduring to be persuaded by them even as far as hearing them. But at midnight a lamp-bearing angel appears to those who were guarding, lighting up everyone in the building with light; so that from amazement the guards became speechless, who also, having risen, begged them all to depart, the doors having been opened for them. For they confessed it was better for them to be dead on their behalf than to overlook the freedom that had come from God to those held by irrational things. The chiliarch, therefore, having alighted at early dawn at the prison with his officers, was eager to have the men leave the city; for he said his house had collapsed by an earthquake, and had overtaken the best of his servants. But as they heard, singing hymns of thanksgiving to God, they departed to the desert, and they were henceforth all together according to the apostolic ^D word, having one heart and one soul. He taught them, however, daily to be adorned with

^A virtues, and to repel the engines of the devil concerning the thoughts from the very beginning. For, he says, once the head of the serpent is crushed, the whole body is dead. For the Lord, he says, commands us to watch over the head of the serpent. This means that we should not allow ourselves, even at the inception, to entertain base and unseemly thoughts, nor to erase the shameful imagination from our mind, but rather strive to surpass one another in virtues, so that no one might appear inferior to another in these commendations. And let the progress of the virtues, he says, be your proof, when you have acquired dispassion and lack of desire. For these things are the beginning of the gifts of God. And when one has acquired from God the demonstration of miracles, let him not be puffed up as if he had enough, nor let him be elated in his thought as if he had already been honored more than others, nor act as if showing off to all that he had attained such grace. If not, he deceives himself, being robbed of his faculties, and despoiled of the grace. Thus, he had these great teachings in his thoughts, of which we ourselves often heard from him later. But in his works he performed greater things. For every request he made to God while praying was granted immediately.

And he saw certain revelations. For he saw his own elder brother, who had also been perfected in the desert, and who had displayed a greater course of life than he had himself, with whom he had lived in the desert for a long time. So in a dream he imagined him sitting on a throne with the apostles, and leaving to him the inheritance of the virtues, and how he was interceding for him, supplicating God to effect his rapid departure, and that he might rest with him in the heavens. But the Savior said to him that he still owed a short time on earth for his perfection, until many become zealots of his way of life. For a great people of monks was about to be entrusted to him, and a pious army, so that he might thus receive in return for his labors the approval from the Better One. He saw these things, which also came to pass. For ^B many monks having gathered from all sides by hearsay, and through his teaching and intercourse, having completely renounced the world, there became a settlement of the brethren together with him on the mountain up to five hundred, having a common life and dining at one table. And it was to see them as an angelic army adorned, all white-robed in the world, and that the Scripture was fulfilled in these things, saying: Rejoice, thirsty desert; break forth and cry, you who have not travailed, for many are the children of the desert rather than of her who has a husband. For this prophetic word had been fulfilled both in the Church from the Gentiles and was perfected in the Egyptian desert, presenting more children to God than the inhabited earth. For where are there such flocks of saved monks in the cities, as those who in the Egyptian desert present themselves to God? For as many as are the people here, so many are the monks in the deserts there. And it seems to me that the Apostle’s saying is fulfilled in them, where he says: Where sin abounded, grace did there superabound. For once in Egypt abounded much and ^C base idolatry, as in no other nation. For they worshipped dogs and monkeys and other such things ^D and garlic and onions and many of the lowly vegetables they considered gods, as I heard the holy Apollo himself relating about them, and reporting the cause of the former polytheism. For they say that the Greeks who lived among us of old used to deify the ox, because through it they performed agriculture and obtained food, and the water of the Nile, which irrigated all the lands. They worshipped also the earth as being most fertile compared to other lands; and they worshipped the remaining abominations, dogs and monkeys and all the rest of the unseemliness of animals and vegetables, for the reason that a pretext for salvation had come to them in these matters during the time of Pharaoh, when he, pursuing Israel, was drowned. For everyone, regarding that about which he was occupied, not having followed Pharaoh, deified it, saying, "This has become a god to me today, so I did not perish with Pharaoh." These things the holy Apollo had in his discourses.

But before the words, it is necessary to write what he possessed in deeds. For there were once Greeks living among him in all the places, and the villages especially near him worshipped the demonic delusion. There was a very great temple in one of the villages, and an image in it quite manifest. And this idol was wooden. The foul priests moved in procession, carrying it about through the villages, reveling with the multitude, as if delivering the rite also for the river water. It happened at that time for the holy Apollo to be passing by there, along with a few brethren. And when he saw the multitude suddenly raging demoniacally through the region, having bent his knees to the Savior, he suddenly made all the Greeks immovable. And as they could not move from that place, pushing one another, they were scorched by the heat all day long, being at a loss from whence what happened to them came. Then their priests said that a certain Christian was living in their borders towards the desert, and was working these things upon them. They said it was Apollo, and that they must beseech him, so that they might not be in danger. As those who dwelt far away, hearing the voices and the clamor, arrived, and said, "What is this that has happened to you suddenly, or from whence did it come?" And they said they did not know, except that they were under suspicion concerning the man, saying that it was necessary to appease him. And others testified that they had seen him passing by; and as they requested that rapid help come to them, they brought oxen and tried to move the idol; but it remained immovable, together with the very priests. And finding no other means of embassy through those living nearby, they sent to Apollo, so that, having been relieved from there, they might desist from their delusion. When these things were made known to the man, the man of God descended to them as quickly as possible, and having prayed, he released them all from the bond. And they all with one accord rushed to him, having believed in the Savior of all and the wonder-working God; they immediately handed the idol to the fire, all of whom he catechized and added to the churches. Many of them until now dwell in the monasteries. And the fame about him ran everywhere. And many believed in the Lord, so that no longer were they called Greeks in his borders.

^A For when the head of the serpent is crushed, the whole body is dead. For the Lord commands that we watch the head of the serpent: this means that we should not admit evil and shameful thoughts at the beginning, nor only that we should wipe away the obscene fantasies of our soul: but that we should strive to surpass one another in virtues, and that no one should appear inferior to another in these praises. But this, he said, should be a proof of the progress of your virtues, when you are empty of affections and appetites, for these are the beginning of Christ’s gifts. But when someone has received from God a manifestation of miracles, he should not swell up too much, as if he had progressed sufficiently, nor should he be puffed up in his thought, as if he were already more honored than others, nor should he show off that he has received such grace; otherwise, he deceives himself, being captured in mind, and he will be deprived of the grace. Therefore, he had this great doctrine in his sermons, which we also often heard from him later on; but in his works he performed even greater things, for every petition was immediately granted to him by God.

Furthermore, he saw certain revelations: for he saw his eldest brother, who himself also had been perfected in the desert, and whom he had surpassed in the beautiful institution of life, and with whom he also lived for a long time in the desert. He seemed, therefore, to see him sitting on the same throne with the apostles, since he had left him the inheritance of his virtues; and he was thus interceding for himself, asking God that his departure might be swift, and that he might grant him rest with him in the heavens. But the Savior appeared and said to him that it was necessary for him to be on earth for a short time yet for the perfection of many, until many should become emulators of his virtue. ^B For a great multitude of monks would be entrusted to his faith, and a pious army, that it might obtain glory worthy of its labors before God. He saw these things, which also came to pass. For when many monks had gathered to him from everywhere upon hearing [of him], and through his doctrine and conversation very many had renounced the world entirely, a cohabitation of the brothers took place, when up to five hundred brothers were living a common life with him, and having one table, and all clothed in white; and in them was fulfilled the Scripture which says: Rejoice, O barren one who bear not; break forth and cry, you who are not in labor; for many are the children of the desolate, more than [those] of her who has a husband (Isa. LIV). For this prophetic word was indeed fulfilled by the Church which was gathered from the Gentiles: but it was also perfected in this Egyptian desert, which shows forth to God more children than the land which is inhabited. For where in the cities are there so many flocks of those who are saved as those which the Egyptian deserts show forth to God? For as many people as there are here, so many monks are there in the deserts. And it seems to me that the saying of the Apostle has been fulfilled in them also: For where sin abounded, grace did much more abound (Rom. V). For at one time abundant and impious idol worship abounded in Egypt, so much so that it served no people more; for some worshipped dogs and apes; others, leeks and onions; and they deemed it right to consider many things from vile vegetables as gods, ^C as the holy Father himself, when he was relating these things to us, was also giving the reason for their former ignorance. For he used to say that the Gentiles who formerly lived among us referred to the ox as among the gods because they prepared their livelihood by it while engaging in agriculture; and the water of the Nile, because it irrigates all the fields; they also worshipped the earth, as being more fertile than all other regions. But they worshipped the remaining abominations, dogs and monkeys, and all other base kinds of animals and herbs, insofar as their use had been an occasion of salvation for them, which held men occupied during the time of Pharaoh, when he, pursuing Israel, was drowned. For everyone referred to as a god that in which he was occupied when he had not followed Pharaoh, saying: This was my god today, because of which it was achieved that I did not perish together with Pharaoh. These things, indeed, the holy Apollo had in his sermons. ^D

But before these sermons, it must be written what he possessed in his works. For there were at one time Gentiles dwelling almost everywhere near [the monastery], and ten villages that were closer to him worshipped demons all the more. Now, there was a very large temple in one village, and a very famous idol, and this statue was made of wood. Now, the wicked priests, who were reveling with the multitude, were leading a procession, carrying it around through the villages, as if celebrating mysteries for the river water. It happened that at that time Apollo was present there with a few brothers: but after he saw the multitude suddenly raging with demoniac fury through the region, having bent his knees to the Savior, he made all the Gentiles suddenly motionless. But when they could not move from that place, pushing one another, and were scorched by the heat all day, not knowing whence this had happened to them, their priests said that there was a certain Christian living in their borders in the desert who was doing these things, speaking of Apollo; and [they said] it was necessary to supplicate him, otherwise they would be in danger. After those who lived far away, having heard the outcries and lamentations, approached and asked them: What is it, they said, that has suddenly happened to you? How has this been done? They said that they did not know, except that they had a man whom they suspected, saying it was necessary to appease him. Others testified that they had seen him passing by; and so they begged them that help might be quickly given to them: having brought oxen, they tried to move the idol; but it remained as if immovable, even with the priests themselves. Since, therefore, they had found no way of escape, they sent a delegation through the neighbors to Apollo, that being liberated, they might turn back from their error. When these things were signified to Apollo, the man of God descended most swiftly; and when he had prayed, he loosened them all from their bond. But all these, with one mind, went to him, believing in the Savior of all, and in God who performs wonders, and immediately had the idol committed to the fire. He instructed them all in the catechism and added them to the churches. Many of these, even to this day, dwell in the monasteries. And the fame of this matter reached all parts, and many believed

^A in the Lord, so that no one was any longer called a pagan within his borders.

Formerly, there was in the mountain of the cave the holy Apollo, with five other brothers who were his first disciples, when he had recently arrived from the solitude. And when the feast day of Easter had come, and they had completed the worship of God, they began to hunger for what could be found: there were some dry loaves and certain herbs stored away. Apollo said to them: "If we are faithful, O my children, true children of Christ, let each of you ask from God that which is pleasing to his soul to eat." They, however, left the whole matter to him, thinking themselves unworthy of such grace. When he had prayed with a joyful countenance and all had said, "Amen," immediately at night there came to the cave certain men who were completely unknown, who said they came from a far-off region; and they were carrying everything—even things of which they had not heard by report, and which are not born in Egypt, garden fruits of every kind, grapes and pomegranates, and figs and nuts, all out of season; and indeed some honeycombs were found, and a jar of fresh milk, and large dates, and pure, warm loaves from a foreign region. But those who had brought them, once they had only delivered them—as if sent by some great and wealthy man—immediately and quickly departed. When they had partaken of the food, it sufficed for them until Pentecost, so that they themselves were amazed and said that it had truly been sent by God.

Not long after, two villages began to wage war against one another, contending over lands. But when it was reported to Apollo, he immediately descended to them, intending to reconcile them to peace. Those who were on the opposing side would not obey, but contradicted him, trusting in one leader of the robbers, as a man most excellent in war. When Apollo saw him contradicting, he said to him: "If you obey, O friend, I will ask my Lord that your sins be remitted." But he, when he heard this, did not hesitate; casting down his weapons and falling at his knees, he supplicated; and peace being made through his intercession, he sent his people home to their own proper places. And when they had made peace and departed, their notable defender began to follow Apollo, openly demanding the promise. When the blessed Apollo had taken him into the nearby solitude, he admonished and exhorted him to be of patient and constant mind, for God was able to pardon him. But when night came, both saw in their sleep that they stood before the tribunal of Christ: both were beholding the angels adoring God along with the just. And when they themselves had prostrated with them, they adored the Father; and a voice of God came to them, saying: "What is the communion of light with darkness? Or what part has the believer with the infidel?" (II Cor. VI). "What indeed has a murderer to do with the just, when he is unworthy of such a contemplation? But you, depart, O man, for to you is granted this late-born fugitive." ^C When they had seen and heard many other marvelous things, which speech dares not tell, nor ear hear, they awoke and reported them to those who lived with them. Admiration seized everyone, especially when both were describing the same vision. But he who was no longer a murderer remained with the ascetics, correcting his life until death, changed from a wolf into a simple and innocent lamb. In him was also fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah, saying: "Wolves and lambs shall graze together, and the lion and the ox shall eat husks together" (Isaiah LXV). For there, too, one could see Ethiopians exercising themselves with the monks, many surpassing them in virtues, and the Scripture being fulfilled in them, which says: "Ethiopia shall reach out her hand to God" (Ps. LXVII).

A certain monk was asking the Father that he might pray to God for him, that he might obtain some grace. When he had prayed, the grace of humility and meekness was given to him, so that all wondered he was so meek. These virtues of his were narrated to us by the brothers who lived with him, many other brothers also attesting to this. ^D For when, not long before, there had been a famine in Thebaid, the peoples who inhabited those parts heard that the monks who were with him were being fed daily beyond all hope and expectation; they came to him with one heart with their wives and children, seeking both a blessing and food. But he, fearing nothing, lest food should ever be lacking to him, gave to all who came, to each what was sufficient for the day. When only three large baskets of bread were left, and the famine was growing, he ordered the baskets to be brought into the middle, where the monks were then planning to eat; and in the hearing of all the brothers and the multitude of the people, he said with a loud voice: "Is the hand of the Lord not able to fulfill this?" The Holy Spirit says this: "Bread shall not fail from these baskets until we are satisfied with new grain." And all who were present then affirmed that the loaves sufficed them for four months. It was similar with oil and grain, so that Satan came and said to him: "Are you Elias, or another of the prophets or apostles, that you do these things?" But he said to him: "Why? Were not the apostles and the prophets holy men, who delivered these things to us? Do you then..."

At one time, the pagans were contending against the rustic Christians for their lands; there was a multitude of armed men on both sides, to whom Apollo stood by, reconciling peace between them. But in the battle, the leader of the pagans—a man grave and savage—resisted him; he affirmed and said that he would not grant peace until death. But he said to him: "And so, let that which you have chosen happen to you, for no one shall be killed except you. But when you are dead, the earth shall not be your sepulcher, but the bellies of wild beasts and vultures shall fill you." And so the prayer immediately met its effect, since from neither side was anyone killed except the leader. And when they had buried him in the sands, in the morning they found his limbs torn by hyenas and vultures. But when they had seen

^A the miracle and the outcome of the word, all believed in the Savior and proclaimed him a prophet.

Now, before this, the holy Apollo was still in the cave of the mountain with five brothers, who were the first ^B to become his disciples, having newly come from the desert. The feast of Pascha arrived; and having completed their worship to God in the cave, they were about to eat what was available. There were also a few dry loaves and some prepared herbs. And so Apollo said to them, "If we are faithful, my children, and genuine children of Christ, let each of you ask of God what he desires for his refreshment." They entrusted the whole matter to him, deeming themselves unworthy of such grace. As he prayed with a cheerful countenance and all had said "Amen," suddenly there appeared at the cave some men who were strangers, saying that they had come from very far away, carrying everything that had not even reached their hearing, and things that are not produced in Egypt: paradisiacal fruits of every kind, grapes, pomegranates, figs, and nuts, all found out of season, and honey, and some honeycombs, and a vessel of fresh milk, and ten loaves of Nicolaus bread, huge, pure, and warm, brought to them from a foreign land. The men who brought these things, having only said they were sent by a certain great and wealthy man, immediately departed in haste. Partaking of these edibles, they were sustained by them until Pentecost, so that they marveled and said that these had truly been sent from God.

One of the monks, however, asked that the Father pray for him at once, that he might be deemed worthy of some grace. When he prayed, the grace of humility and meekness was given to him; so that all marveled at him, for he had acquired a superabundance of meekness. The Fathers around him used to tell us of these powers of his, and many brothers also bore witness to him regarding these things.

For when a famine occurred not long ago throughout the Thebaid, the peoples dwelling in the cities, hearing that the monks around him were often fed from impossible sources, arrived ^C in a crowd to him with wives and children, asking for a blessing and food at the same time. And he, fearing nothing at all that the food might run out, gave to all who were coming the daily sufficiency for each one. When only three large baskets of loaves were left, and the famine was prevailing, he ordered the baskets to be brought into the middle, just as the monks were about to eat for that day. And in the hearing of all the brothers and the crowds, he said in a loud voice, "Is the hand of the Lord not able to multiply these? And thus says the Holy Spirit: 'Bread shall not fail from these baskets, until all are satisfied with the new grain.'" And all who were present at that time confirmed that the loaves sufficed for everyone for four months. He acted similarly regarding oil and wheat; so that Satan was present and said to him, "Are you Elijah, or one of the other prophets and apostles, since you dare to do these things?" But he said to him, "What then? Were the holy prophets and apostles who handed down these things to us not men? Or was God present then, but has now departed? God is able to do these things always, and

^A nothing will be impossible for Him. If, therefore, God is good, why are you wicked? For what is there to say, and what have we ourselves seen, that those who were bringing the bread would bring full baskets to the tables of the brothers, and while five hundred brothers were eating, they would receive them back full until such time?

As we were amazed at having seen another wonder, it is right to speak. For upon coming to him, three of us brothers were recognized from afar, having been seen on behalf of the brothers who had heard from him beforehand about our arrival to him; they ran with haste and met us while chanting (for this is their custom with all the monks), and having prostrated themselves upon the ground, they kissed us, showing one another: "Behold, the brothers have arrived for whom the Father told us three days ago that 'After three days, three brothers will come to us coming from Jerusalem.'" And some were leading us, while others followed behind us chanting, until we reached close to them. And Father Apollo, having heard the voice of those chanting, met us according to his custom with all the brothers. And seeing us, he prostrated himself first, spreading himself upon the ground; and rising, he kissed us. And leading us in, he prayed. And having washed our feet with his own hands, he urged us to rest. And he did this for all the brothers who came to him. For the brothers who were with him would not take food before they partook of Christ's Eucharist. And they did this at the ninth hour of the day.

Many things he discoursed to us about asceticism and conduct, often in private, and regarding the reception of the brothers, saying that it is necessary to prostrate before the brothers who come. "For you have not prostrated before them, but before God; for you have seen, he says, your brother, you have seen the Lord your God." We have received this from Abraham; and even though it is necessary sometimes to constrain the brothers for rest, we have learned from Lot, who constrained the angels, and that it is necessary, if possible, for the monks to partake of the mysteries every day. For he who distances himself from these is distanced from God. But he who does this constantly receives the Savior constantly. For the saving voice says, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him" (John VI, 56). This, therefore, is profitable for the monks, as they continually make a remembrance of the saving passion, and prepare themselves to be ready day after day, so as to be worthy always for the reception of the holy and heavenly mysteries, since we are thus accounted worthy of the forgiveness of sins. But, he says, it is not permitted to break the universal fasts without every necessity. For on Wednesday the Savior is betrayed, and on Friday He is crucified. He who breaks these, therefore, betrays the Savior along with them and crucifies Him along with them. If, however, a brother comes to us needing rest, while there is a fast, you shall set the table for him alone. If he does not wish it, do not force him. For we have common instruction. And he often blamed those who carried iron [chains] and those who wore their hair long. These, he says, demonstrate this and hunt for the praise of men; yet they ought rather to weaken the body with fasts and do good in secret. But they do not do this, but make themselves manifest to all. And what could one say of all his teachings, which were similar to his way of life, which no one could fittingly express or write down? Therefore, having discoursed with us often in private throughout the whole week, and sending us on our way, he said, "Have peace with one another, and do not separate from one another on the road."

And when he said to the brothers who were with him, "Who among these would willingly wish to accompany us as far as the other Fathers?" almost all of them exhorted us eagerly to accompany us. And the holy Apollo, having chosen three of them, men capable in word and conduct, and experienced in the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian tongues, in sending us off he instructed them not to let us go before we had sufficiently seen all the Fathers. If anyone wishes to see them all, he would not succeed in seeing them throughout his whole life. Having blessed us, therefore, he sent us away, saying, "May the Lord bless you from Zion, and may you see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of your life" (Ps. CXXVII, 5).

As we were traveling along the desert at midday, suddenly we see a track of a great dragon like that of a beam dragged through the sand, and having seen it, we were seized with great fear. But the brothers who were guiding us exhorted us not to fear, but ^B by having been silent each time, hearing from him and from others?

Many things he discoursed to us about asceticism and conduct, often in private, and regarding the reception of the brothers, saying that it is necessary to prostrate before the brothers who come. "For you have not prostrated before them, but before God; for you have seen, he says, your brother, you have seen the Lord your God." We have received this from Abraham; and even though it is necessary sometimes to constrain the brothers for rest, we have learned from Lot, who constrained the angels, and that it is necessary, if possible, for the monks to partake of the mysteries every day. For he who distances himself from these is distanced from God. But he who does this constantly receives the Savior constantly. For the saving voice says, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him." This, therefore, is profitable for the monks, as they continually make a remembrance of ^C the saving passion, and prepare themselves to be ready day after day, so as to be worthy always for the reception of the holy and heavenly mysteries, since we are—and thus having been regulated they sat, listening to him teaching all the commandments until the time of sleep. From there some of them would depart into the desert, memorizing the Scriptures all night; while others would persevere there, singing hymns to God without ceasing until morning—whom I myself saw with my own eyes, having begun the hymns in the evening and not ceasing their song until morning. Many of them, therefore, would go down from the mountain only at the ninth hour, and partake of the Eucharist, and go up again, content with spiritual food only until the next ninth hour. Many of them did this for many days. It was something to see them rejoicing throughout the desert. No one could express such joy on this earth, nor physical gladness. Nor was anyone sad or dejected among them; but if anyone was seen to be sad, Father Apollo would immediately inquire the cause from him, and he would report to him the things in the secret of the heart of each one. And he said, "It is not fitting to be sad about salvation while expecting to inherit the kingdom of heaven. The Greeks are sad, the Jews will weep, and the sinners will mourn, ^D but the righteous will rejoice, and those who mind earthly things will rejoice over earthly things; but we who have been accounted worthy of so great a hope, how should we not rejoice at all times, since the Apostle urges us to 'rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks' (1 Thess. V, 16-18)?" And what could one say of the grace in his words, and his other virtues, which due to their abundance we were amazed at, thus accounted worthy of the forgiveness of sins. But, he says, it is not permitted to break the universal fasts without every necessity. For on Wednesday the Savior is betrayed, and on Friday He is crucified. He who breaks these, therefore, betrays the Savior along with them and crucifies Him along with them. If, however, a brother comes to us needing rest, while there is a fast, you shall set the table for him alone. If he does not wish it, do not force him. For we have common instruction. And he often blamed those who carried iron, and those who wore their hair long. These, he says, demonstrate this and hunt for the praise of men; yet they ought rather to weaken the body with fasts and do good in secret. But they do not do this, but make themselves manifest to all. And what could one say of all his teachings, which were similar to his way of life, which no one could fittingly express or write down? Therefore, having discoursed with us often in private throughout the whole week, and sending us on our way, he said, "Have peace with one another, and do not separate from one another on the road."

And when he said to the brothers who were with him, "Who among these would willingly wish to accompany us as far as the other Fathers?" almost all of them exhorted us eagerly to accompany us. And the holy Apollo, having chosen three of them, men capable in word and conduct, and experienced in the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian tongues, in sending us off he instructed them not to let us go before we had sufficiently seen all the Fathers. If anyone wishes to see them all, he would not succeed in seeing them throughout his whole life. Having blessed us, therefore, he sent us away, saying, "May the Lord bless you from Zion, and may you see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of your life."

As we were traveling along the desert at midday, suddenly we see a track of a great dragon like that of a beam dragged through the sand, and having seen it, we were seized with great fear. But the brothers who were guiding us exhorted us not to fear, but

^A in his speech was grace, and all his other virtues, which we kept silent about because of the supreme miracle, were they not heard by us from him and from others?

When he had often discoursed with us privately concerning the discipline and manner of life, he also often spoke about receiving monks, saying that one ought to adore the arriving brothers: "For it is not them," he said, "that you have adored, but God. For have you seen your brother? You have seen your Lord God." And this, he said, we have received from Abraham (Gen. xviii); and that one ought, he said, sometimes to compel the brothers to take food, we have received from Lot, who compelled the angels (Gen. xix); and that it behooves monks, if possible, to communicate daily in the sacraments. For he who removes himself from them, God also removes Himself far from him. But he who does this assiduously, assiduously receives the Savior. For, he said, there is the voice of salvation: "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him" (John vi). This confers upon the monks ^B who are continually making a commemoration of the saving passion, also the benefit of preparing themselves daily, so that at every time they may be worthy to receive the heavenly sacraments, since in this way one also obtains the remission of sins. It is not allowed, however, to break the catholic and general fasts without great necessity; for on the fourth day the Savior is betrayed, and on the preparation day He is crucified; he, therefore, who breaks them, betrays the Savior at the same time, and at the same time crucifies Him. But if a brother comes to you who has need of being refreshed when it is a fast, set a table for him alone; but if he is unwilling, do not compel him, for we have a common tradition.

He greatly rebuked those who wore iron ^C and let their hair grow long. For these, he said, show themselves off and seek to please men, when it behooves them rather to weaken the body with fasts, and to do what is good in secret; but these men do not do so, but parade themselves before everyone. And what need is there for more? For all his teaching is like his own manner of life, which no one could write down or describe. Having therefore conversed with us a great deal in private—often for a whole week—at last he dismissed us, saying: "Have peace among yourselves, and do not be separated on the way."

When he had said this to the brothers who were with him, to ask which of them would wish to escort us to visit other Fathers, blessed Apollo ^D, having chosen three men who were capable in both speech and manner of life, and who were skilled in the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian languages, dismissed us with them, and ordered them not to leave us until our desire to see the Fathers had been satisfied: whom if anyone wished to see them all, a whole lifetime would not suffice to behold them. When, therefore, he had blessed us, he sent us away, saying: "The Lord bless you out of Sion, and may you see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of your life" (Ps. cxxvii).

As we were walking at midday through the wilderness, we saw the track of a great dragon, which was dragged through the sand like a beam: when we saw it, a great fear invaded us. But the brothers who were leading us exhorted us not to fear,

that we might be of good spirit and follow the tracks of the dragon: "For you shall see our faith when we ourselves are about to overcome him with our own hands." For they said, "We have killed many dragons and horned vipers with our hands, just as it is written." In them, indeed, that saying was fulfilled: "I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy" (Luke 10). But we, who were overcome by disbelief and were affected by a greater fear, begged them that we might not go along the tracks of the dragon, but by the straight path. One brother among them, however, with great alacrity of spirit, having left us in that place, went into the wilderness seeking the beast. When he had found it, not far from a cave, he shouted with a loud voice that the dragon was in the cave; and he called to them, so that they might come to him to see what would happen. Since other brothers were urging us not to be afraid, we went with great fear to see the beast. But a brother suddenly running to us pulled us into his monastery, saying that we could not withstand the attack of the beast, and especially since we had not yet seen such a thing, whereas he himself had often seen the beast, which was of such vast size that it was more than fifteen cubits long. Therefore, when he had bidden us to remain in that place, he went to the brother, telling him to move away from the cavern; for the latter was trying not to leave the place before he had killed the dragon. When he had persuaded him, he led him to us, chiding our little faith. Staying with that brother, who had a monastery about a mile away, we were sufficiently refreshed.

Chapter LIII. Vita abbatis Amun.

He also told us that in the place where he himself was sitting, there had been a holy man, whose disciple he himself was, named Amun (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 8, he calls him Ammon), who performed very many miracles in that place; to whom thieves often came, receiving bread and food from him. Taking this ill, when one day he had gone out into the wilderness, he brought back with him two large dragons and ordered them to remain in that place and guard the door. When the murderers came according to their custom and saw the miracle, they fell on their faces, gaping in astonishment. Coming out, he found them mute and almost half-dead; and when he had revived them, he rebuked them, saying: "See how much more savage you are than the beasts; for they indeed obey our will for the sake of God, but you have neither feared God nor respected the religion of Christians." Having brought them into his cell, he set a table and warned them to change their ways. They, rising, were seen at once to be much better; and not long after, they themselves were also seen to perform the same signs.

Sometimes, he said, when one large dragon was ravaging the nearby region and killing many animals, all those who lived near the wilderness came together to the Father, asking that the beast be removed from their region. He, however, dismissed them in such a way that those affected by sadness could benefit nothing from it. But rising in the morning, he came to that place where the beast was about to pass; after he had bent his knees three times in prayer, the beast came towards him, emitting a heavy breath with a great hissing, and swelling up and wheezing, it gave forth a foul odor. But he, not at all terrified, turning to the dragon, said: "Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, who is about to conquer the great sea-monster, will defeat you." And when he had said this, the dragon was immediately burst asunder, vomiting forth all its poison with its blood through its mouth. When the rustics came on the following day and saw that great miracle, and could not endure the stench, they heaped much sand upon the animal, with the Father standing there, for they did not dare to approach the dragon, even though it was dead.

The boy, he says, while pasturing, having suddenly seen the dragon still alive, was immediately terrified out of his mind and fainted; and so the boy lay all day long in the wilderness, breathing nothing. When they had found him in the evening, breathing but little and all swollen from the trance, they brought him to the Father, not knowing the cause of what had happened. When he had prayed and anointed him with oil, the boy arose, telling what had been experienced. Greatly moved by this, the man turned to killing the dragon.

CHAPTER LIV. Vita abbatis Copre presbyteri.

There was also there a certain presbyter, who had a monastery nearby in the wilderness, named Copres (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 9): a holy man, nearly ninety years old, the superior of fifty brothers, who himself also performed many virtues, healing diseases and performing many cures, and casting out demons, and accomplishing many things, and even some before our eyes. Therefore, after he saw us, he greeted us and prayed for us, and after he had washed our feet, he inquired of us what was happening in the world; but we asked that he himself might rather explain to us the virtues of his way of life, and in what manner God had granted him gifts, and by what reason he had become a partaker of his grace. He, however, not puffed up with any pride on that account, told us about his own life and that of his elders who surpassed him, whose way of life he himself followed: "There is nothing," he said, "O sons, that is done by me that is admirable, if it is compared with those things which were done in the life of our Fathers." And when Copres the presbyter was telling us what had been done rightly and out of virtue by the Fathers, one of our brothers, dozing off—as one who had no faith in those things that were being said—sees in his hands a wonderful book, written in golden letters, and a stern man standing by and threateningly saying to him: "Do you not listen attentively to the reading, but doze?" But he, being disturbed, with us listening to him, immediately explained in Latin what he had heard and seen. While he was still telling us these things, there came a certain rustic having a basket of sand, who was waiting until he had finished his narrative: we asked the presbyter: "What does the rustic want with the sand?" The Father answered us, saying:

^A to benefit them, he dismissed the men who were grieved. Then, rising at dawn, he departed upon the road of the beast. When he had bowed his knees in prayer for the third time, the beast came towards him, emitting a terrible hiss with a great roaring, blowing, whistling, and sending forth a foul breath. But he, not fearing in the least, turned toward the dragon and said, "May Christ, the Son of the living God, who is about to tame the great sea-monster, tame you." And as soon as he had said this, the dragon immediately burst, vomiting forth all its poison together with blood through its mouth. After some days, the country folk arrived and, seeing that great miracle and not being able to endure the stench, they heaped a great deal of sand upon the creature, the Father standing there with them; for they did not dare to approach, although the dragon was already dead. A boy, he says, while pasturing at another time, suddenly seeing the dragon still alive, was seized by an ecstasy and fainted. ^B The boy therefore lay breathless in the field beside the desert all day long. Toward evening, his relatives found him breathing slightly, completely swollen from the ecstasy, and brought him to the Father, not knowing the cause of what had happened to him. When he had prayed and anointed him with oil, the boy stood up and recounted what he had seen; for which reason the man was most moved to turn toward the destruction of the dragon.

"For you shall see," he says, "our faith, when we are about to take them in hand. For many dragons, both asps and horned vipers, have we slain by hand." And the promise written of them was being fulfilled: "I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy." We, therefore, carried away by unbelief and becoming all the more fearful, entreated them not to follow the tracks of the dragon, but to walk the straight path. But one brother among us, with great zeal, left us at that place and rushed into the desert tracking the beast, and finding the lair not far off, he cried out to us with a shout that the dragon was in the cave, and called us to him to see what would happen, though others exhorted us not to fear. As we, in great fear, were going off to see the beast, suddenly one brother met us dragging him by the hand to his own monastery, saying we were not strong enough to endure the onslaught of the beast, and especially because we had never seen such a thing; for he said he had often seen the creature, being huge and having more than fifteen cubits. Enjoining us therefore to remain, he went off to the place to the brother, persuading him to move away from the lair. For that man was attempting not to move from the place before slaying the dragon. And indeed, having persuaded him, he led him to us, blaming our little faith. Having rested at that brother’s place, since the monastery was about a mile away, we were sufficiently refreshed.

CHAPTER LIII. Concerning Abbot Amun.

He recounted to us also that there had been in that place where he himself dwelt a holy man to whom he had been a disciple, Amun by name, who had performed very many miracles in that very place. To whom robbers often came and took his bread and provisions. One of the days, having gone out, he gathered two great dragons from the desert unto him, commanding them to stay and guard the door. And the murderers, coming as was their custom and beholding the miracle, became speechless and, through terror, fell upon their faces. Having gone out, he saw them become dumbfounded and almost half-dead; and having raised them up, he reproached them, saying: "See how much wilder you are than the beasts; for the latter obey the will of God, but you have neither feared God nor been shamed by the piety of Christians." Having led them into his cell, he placed a table before them and exhorted them to change their way of life. And they, having been changed by them, appeared better than many; and not long after, they themselves were seen performing the same signs.

Another time, he says, when a great dragon was ravaging the near-by country and killing most of the animals, all those living near the desert came together to the Father, begging that the beast might be made to disappear from their land. But he, as if able to do nothing ^C to benefit them, dismissed the men who were grieved.

CHAPTER LIV. Concerning Abbot Copres the presbyter.

There was a certain presbyter who had a monastery nearby there in the desert, Copres by name, a holy man, nearly ninety years of age, superior of fifty brothers; who himself also performed very many miracles, healing diseases, accomplishing many cures, driving out demons, and performing many wonders, some of which were before our own eyes. When, therefore, he saw us, and had prayed over us, and washed our feet, he asked us what things were happening in the world; but we entreated him rather to instruct us in the virtues of his own way of life; and how God had gifted him with the charisms, and by what method he had received this grace. But he, counting himself nothing proud, began to recount to us his own life, and the lives of those before him, who were great and had become much greater than himself, whose manner of life he imitated. "For," he says, "my work is nothing, O children, compared to the manner of life of our Fathers." And while Copres the presbyter was still recounting these things, one of our brothers, having dozed off, being carried by unbelief regarding what was being said, sees a wonderful book lying in the hands of the man, written in golden letters, and a certain gray-haired man standing over him with threats saying to him: "Do you not listen attentively to the reading, but do you doze?" And he, troubled, immediately revealed to us what had been heard and seen in Latin. And while he was still speaking these things to us, there came up a certain rustic holding a basket full of sand; and he stood waiting for him to finish the narrative. And we asked him, the presbyter ourselves, "What—

^A does the rustic want with the sand?" The Father answered us, saying, "Children, it is not fitting for us to boast to you, nor to declare the achievements of the Fathers, lest, being puffed up in mind, we lose our reward. But on account of your zeal and benefit, because you have come to us from such a great distance, I will not deprive you of the benefit, but will recount what God has ordained through us while the brethren are present."

Our neighboring land was barren, and the rustics who owned it, having sown wheat, could hardly harvest the seed twofold, for a worm born in the ear of grain would destroy the whole harvest. But the farmers, having been instructed by us and having become Christians, were asking us to pray for the harvest. I said therefore to them, "If you have faith in God, even this desert sand will bear fruit for you." And they, delaying nothing, filled their bosoms with this sand of ours that we had walked upon, and brought it to be blessed, asking for it. And I, as I prayed for them that it should be according to their faith, they sowed it along with the wheat in the fields; and suddenly their land became more fruitful than all the land of Egypt. So, having the custom of doing this, they trouble us every year.

"One thing, however," he says, "is great: God granted me a miracle in the presence of many. For once, having gone down into the city, I found a certain man, a Manichaean, who had led the masses astray. Since I could not persuade him in public, I turned to the crowd and said, 'Light a great pyre in the square, and let us both enter into the flame. And whoever of us remains unburnt, he has the true faith.' When this happened, and the crowds in their zeal had lit the pyre, they were dragging him into the fire with me. But he says, 'Let each of us enter alone, and you, who gave the order, must be the first to enter.' As I had entered having signed myself in the name of Christ, the flame, dividing itself here and there, did not harm me, though I spent half an hour in it. But the crowds, having seen the miracle, shouted, and were forcing him in turn to enter the pyre. But as he did not wish to, being afraid, the masses took him and pushed him into the middle, and being completely scorched, he was thrown out of the city in disgrace, while the crowds shouted, 'Burn the deceiver alive!' The crowd took me up and, singing my praises, escorted me to the church.

"At another time, as I was passing through a certain temple, some of the Gentiles were sacrificing to their idols; I said to them, 'If you are rational, why do you sacrifice to the irrational? You yourselves are henceforth more irrational than they.' And they, as if I had spoken well, immediately followed me, having believed in the Savior.

"Once, while a garden of mine was in the nearby region on account of the brotherhood that comes to us, and a certain poor man was working for it, one of the Greeks came in to steal the vegetables. And when he had stolen them and gone away, until the third day he was not able to boil them; they remained in the pot just as they were when they were taken, the water not being heated at all. The man, having come to his senses, took up the vegetables, ^B and brought them back to us, asking to be forgiven for the transgression and to become a Christian." Which is what happened. For at that very hour, foreign brethren had come to us, for whom the vegetables were most conveniently presented. Having partaken of them, therefore, we gave thanks to God, having experienced double joy: the salvation of the man and the refreshment of the brethren.

CAPUT LV. On Abba Surus.

Abba Surus once, and Abba Isaiah, and Abba Paul met with one another, being pious men and ascetics, to visit the great confessor, Abba Anuph. The distance between them was three days' journey. And they said to one another, "Let each of us demonstrate his manner of life, and how he has been honored by God in this life." And Surus said to them, "I ask a gift from God, that we may reach the place without fatigue in the power of the Spirit." And merely upon his praying, a boat was found ready immediately, and a favorable wind, and in a moment they were found to have arrived at the place, traveling against the current.

CAPUT LVI. On Abba Isaiah.

Isaiah says to them, "And what is marvelous, O friends, if the man happens to be declaring to us the conduct of each?"

CAPUT LVII. On Abba Paul.

Paul says to them, "Even if God revealed to us that after three days He would take up the man?" As they went before the place, the man met them and greeted them. And Paul says to him, "Tell us your own achievements, for the day after tomorrow you will go to God."

CAPUT LVIII. On Abba Anuph.

And Abba Anuph said to them, "Blessed is God who has made these things known to me, both your arrival and your conduct." And having told the achievements of each, he began to explain his own as well, saying, "From the time I confessed the name of the Savior on earth, no falsehood has gone out of my mouth, I have lived on nothing earthly, an angel providing me with daily heavenly food; nor has the desire for anything else entered into my heart, except for God. Nor has God hidden anything of earthly things that He has not made known to me. Light has not departed from my eyes. I have not slept by day, nor have I rested by night, seeking God, but an angel was always with me, showing me the powers of the world; the light of my mind has not been extinguished; I received every request from my God immediately. I have seen many times myriads of angels standing by God; I have seen choirs of the righteous; I have seen assemblages of martyrs; I have seen the work of all those who glorify God; I have seen Satan being delivered to fire; I have seen his angels being punished; I have seen the righteous rejoicing eternally." These things and other...

My little children, it was not fitting for me to glory before you, nor to declare those things which were performed by the Fathers; lest, elated in mind, we lose our reward. But because of your zeal and the usefulness of your coming so far to us, I will not defraud you of that benefit; but those things which the Savior has done through us, I will narrate to the brethren here present.

The field that is near us was sterile, and the rustics who possessed it, sowing, harvested scarcely double the seed; for a worm arising in the ear was destroying the whole harvest. But the farmers, having been instructed by us in the catechism and having become Christians, asked us to pray for the harvest. I said to them: "If you have faith in God, even the sand of the desert will bring forth fruit for you." They, without any hesitation, having filled their bosoms with this sand that is trodden by us, brought it, asking ^B that we might bless it. After I had prayed that it might happen to them according to their faith, they sowed it with grain in their fields; and suddenly their field so multiplied the fruit that it surpassed all of Egypt. Since they are accustomed to doing this, they cause us trouble every year. One, however, I say, great miracle God bestowed upon me in the presence of many. For when I had once descended into the city, I found a certain Manichaean man who had seduced the crowds; but since I could not publicly persuade him, I said, turning to the multitude: "Light a great pyre in the square, and let us enter into the flame; and whoever of us shall remain unharmed by the flame, he has the true faith." After this was done, and the crowds quickly ignited the pyres, they were pulling me along with him into the fire. He, however, said: "Let each one enter separately, and let him who commanded it enter first." When I had entered, signed in the name of Christ, the flame was divided to this side and that, and no harm affected me, although I had remained in it for half an hour. But the crowds, having seen the miracle, shouted, and were compelling him to pass through the pyre, yet he was unwilling, overcome by fear. When the people had seized him, they pushed him into the middle; and having been totally consumed by the flame, he was ejected from the city, while the people shouted: "Burn the wicked living man." But the crowds, receiving me and following with praises, led me into the church.

When, however, I was once passing by a certain temple, some of the Gentiles were sacrificing to their idols. I said to them: "Why, since you are partakers of reason, do you sacrifice to those things which lack reason; and do you, moreover, become more devoid of reason than they?" They, however, as though I had spoken correctly, immediately followed me, believing in the Savior.

When at one time I had a garden in the nearby field, because of the brotherhood that came to us, and a certain poor man was working it, a certain Gentile entered to steal the vegetables; but when he had stolen them and departed, and had not been able to cook them for three hours, but they had remained in the kettle just as he had received them—inasmuch as the water would not heat—the man, collecting himself, brought the vegetables back to us, asking that he might be forgiven his error, and that he might become a Christian, which also came to pass. At this very hour were present the brethren who had come to us, for whom the vegetables were brought to us quite opportunely. When we had eaten them, we gave thanks to the Lord, with twofold joy received: both from the salvation of the man, and from the refreshment of the brethren.

Chapter LV: The life of Abbot Surus.

Abbas Surus, he says, and Isaiah (Ruff., l. II, cap. 10), and Paul suddenly met each other at the river, godly men and excellent strugglers, intending to visit the great abbot Anuph. Their interval apart was three days' journey; and they say to one another: "Let each of us show his own way of life, and how he has been honored by God in this life." But abbot Surus said to them: "I seek a gift from God, that we may arrive at the place by the power of an indefatigable spirit." And when he had prayed alone, a boat was found immediately prepared, and a favorable wind, and in a moment of time they were found at the place, although they had sailed against the river current.

Chapter LVI: The life of Abbot Isaiah.

Isaiah says to them: "And what is the wonder, O friends, if a man met us, who might narrate the life of each one (Ruff., lib. II, cap. 10)?"

Chapter LVII: The life of Abbot Paul.

But Paul says to them: "If God shall reveal to us that after three days he will take the man?" But when they had proceeded a little further, a man met them and greeted them; but Paul says to him: "Tell us what you have rightly performed; for after the day following the morrow you will depart to God" (Ruffin., l. II, cap. 10).

Chapter LVIII: The life of Abbot Anuph.

Anuph said to them: "Blessed be God, who has signaled these things to me also, and your way of life and ^D coming (Ruffin., l. II, cap. 10)." But when he had said what each one of them had rightly performed, he explained in turn what he himself had done, saying: "Since I professed the name of the Savior on earth, no lie has gone out from my mouth; I have taken no human food, being fed daily by an angel with heavenly food; no desire for any other thing has ascended into my heart, except for God; God hid nothing from me of earthly matters, which He did not signify and show to me. I have not taken sleep by day, nor have I rested by night, seeking God. An angel was always present with me, showing me the powers of the world; the light of my thought was never extinguished; I received every petition from God immediately. I have seen many times myriads of angels assisting God, I have seen the choirs of the just, I have seen the gathering of the martyrs, I have seen the way of life of the monks; I have seen, moreover, the work of all things praising God. I have seen Satan consigned to fire, I have seen his angels punished, I have seen the just rejoicing forever." Narrating these things and many others, on the third day he surrendered his soul; and it... [Next page begins]

received by the angels and the choirs of the martyrs, were carried up into the heavens, while they themselves watched and heard the hymns.

CHAPTER LIX. The Life of Abbot Hellen

Another father, named Abbot Hellen (Rufinus, Book II, ch. 11), having practiced himself courageously from an early age, would often carry fire in his bosom, inciting the brothers who were near him to show signs, saying to them: "If you are truly practicing, manifest the signs of virtue from now on." Once, while he was alone in the desert, a desire for honey came upon him; but having found honeycombs at once under a rock, he said, "Depart from me, intemperate craving; for it is written: 'Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh'" (Gal. V), and leaving them behind, he went away. When he had already fasted for three weeks in the wilderness, having found some scattered fruits, he said: "I will not eat, nor will I touch any of these, lest I scandalize my brother, namely my own soul; for it is written: 'Man shall not live by bread alone'" (Matt. IV; Luke IV). When he had fasted for yet another week, he fell asleep; and an angel came to him in a dream and said: "Rise, and take what is found, and eat." He rose, and looking round about, he saw a spring and herbs that had grown up in a circle. Having taken a drink and eaten the greens, he affirmed that nothing had ever been more pleasant to him. Finding a small cave in the place, he remained there for a few days fasting. And when he was in need of food, he prayed on bended knees: and at once all manner of food was set before him, both warm bread, olives, and various fruits.

Once he visited his brothers; and having exhorted them at length, he returned to the desert, carrying certain things necessary for his use. When he saw some wild asses grazing, he said to them: "In the name of Jesus Christ, let one of you come and take up my burden." One of them came to him at once. Having placed his supplies upon it and seated himself, he arrived at the cave in one day. But when he had left the bread and fruits in the sun, and the wild beasts came to them, as is their habit at a spring, and merely touched the bread, they died.

Once, when it was the Lord's Day, he approached certain monks and said to them: "Why have you not performed the synaxis today?" When they said openly: "Because the presbyter has not come," he said to them: "I will go and call him." But they said that no one could cross the river because of its depth. Furthermore, they said that there was a huge beast in that place, namely a crocodile, which had consumed many men. But he, not hesitating, rose at once and set out for the ford: when the beast immediately received him upon its back, it carried him across to the other bank. When he found the presbyter in the field, he begged him not to despise the brotherhood. But the man, seeing him covered in many patched rags, asked where he had obtained the cloth, saying: "You have very beautiful spiritual attire, O brother," and admiring his humility and ^A simplicity, he followed him as he went back to the river. When they could not find the boat by which they might cross, Abbot Hellen raised his voice, summoning the crocodile. It immediately appeared, obedient to him, and presented its back; he asked the presbyter to climb on with him; but he, seized with fear upon seeing the beast, drew back. And when he was held in admiration, and the brothers who lived on the other side of the river saw him crossing the stream with the beast, he climbed onto the bank and drew the beast up with him, saying that it was better for it to die than to incur the punishment of destroyed souls. And it fell, and died instantly.

Remaining for three days with the brothers, he sat, teaching them the commandments, and openly revealing the hidden counsels of each one: saying of one that he was vexed by fornication, of another by vainglory, of another by luxury, of another by anger, and announcing another as being meek, and another as peaceful: reproving the vices of some and the virtues of others. Hearing these things, they were amazed, saying that it was truly so. He said to them: "Prepare greens for us; for today more brothers will come to us." While they were still preparing them, the supervening brothers greeted one another.

A certain brother asked him, wishing to live in the desert with him. But when he said that he could not bear the temptations of the demons, the man asserted more contentiously that he would endure all things. When he had received him, he ordered him to live in another cave. But at night, demons came to him, and they attempted to suffocate him, when they had first disturbed him with base thoughts. He ran out and reported to Abbot Hellen what had happened. He himself, having traced a figure on the ground at that place, ordered him to remain there thereafter in security. But when his bread had failed him in the cave at one time, an angel appearing in the likeness of a brother brought him sustenance.

Again, when ten brothers were looking for him and wandering through the wilderness, remaining fasting for the seventh day; when he found them, he ordered them to rest in the cave, and they admonished him regarding food. He, having nothing to set before them, said to them: "God is able to prepare a table in the wilderness." Immediately, a certain youth from the ferry-boat knocked at the doors while they were praying. When he had opened, they saw the youth holding a great basket of bread and olives. Having accepted these, they ate, giving thanks to God, when the youth had vanished at once.

When Father Copres had narrated these and many other miracles to us, and had treated us kindly and humanely, he led us into his garden, showing us palms and other fruit-bearing trees which he himself had planted in the desert, being encouraged by the faith of the rustics, to whom he said: "The desert can produce fruit for those who have faith in God." For after I saw, he said, those who had sown in the sand, and their field had brought forth fruit, I myself also attempted the same thing, and I attained the same result.

^A For often, when he was leading [them] for three days, he would commend his soul [to God]. Then immediately the angels, having received it, and the choirs of martyrs led it up into the heavens, while they watched and heard the hymns.

Chapter LIX. The Life of Abba Hellen.

There was another Father called Abba Hellen, who had practiced virtue from childhood. He would often carry fire in his bosom before the brethren when he was with them, urging them to advance to the demonstration of signs, saying to them, "If you truly practice asceticism, then show forth the signs of virtue." At another time, when he was by himself in the desert, being in desire of honey, and straightway finding honeycombs under a rock, he said, "Depart from me, O wanton desire; for it is written, 'Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh,'" and having left them, he went away. ^B Now when he had already been fasting in the desert for three weeks, and had found fruit lying about, he said, "I will not eat, nor will I touch any of it, so that I may not cause scandal to my brother," that is to say, [his] soul, "for it is written, 'Man shall not live by bread alone.'" After he had fasted for another week, he later fell into a doze; and the angel having found him in a dream, says to him, "Arise and eat what is found." He arose, and looking around in a circle, he saw a spring with tender herbs having sprung up round about. Having partaken of the drink and the food of the herbs, he affirmed that he had never tasted anything sweeter than them. Having found a small cave in the place, he remained there for a few days without food. But when he was finally in need of food, he bowed his knees and prayed. ^C Immediately all kinds of foodstuffs were set before him, both warm loaves, and olives, and some choice fruit.

Once he visited his own brethren, whom also, having exhorted them much, he urged towards the desert, bringing along some of the things suitable for their needs. Seeing some wild asses grazing, he said to them, "In the name of Christ, let one of you come hither, having accepted my burden." And one immediately rushed toward him. Having placed the baggage upon it, and sat down [upon it], he reached the cave in one day. But as he had spread the loaves and the fruits in the sun, the beasts came for them, as was their custom, to the spring, and having only touched the loaves, they went away.

Having appeared to some monks when it was the Lord's day, he said to them, "Why have you not celebrated the synaxis today?" And as they were saying that the presbyter had not arrived from the other side, he said to them, "I will go and call him." But they were saying that no one could cross the channel because of its depth. Furthermore, they also said that a very great beast—a kind of crocodile—was in the place, which had consumed many men. ^D He, without delaying, immediately arose and rushed toward the channel, and straightway the beast, having received him upon its back, carried him over to the other side. Having found the presbyter in the village, he exhorted him not to neglect the brotherhood. And the latter, seeing him wearing a much-patched garment, inquired of him where he had obtained the rag; saying, "You possess a most beautiful garment of the soul, brother." And he followed him as he was leaving for the river. As they did not find a ferry, the Abba Hellen let out a voice, calling to the crocodile. It immediately obeyed him, and was present, spreading out its back. He asked the presbyter to climb on with him. But having become frightened, he, having seen the beast, retreated backward. But when awe took hold of him, and of the brothers living on the opposite side, having watched them crossing the channel with the beast, [Hellen], having gone up onto the dry land, dragged the beast after him, saying it was better for it to be dead, and to win the penalty of the souls it had destroyed. And it fell immediately and expired.

Having persevered for three days with the brothers, he sat teaching them the commandments, and openly revealing each man's secret deliberations. He was saying that one was being troubled by fornication, another by vainglory, another by luxury, and yet another by anger; and he declared one to be meek and another to be peaceful, exposing the vice of one and the virtues of another. Hearing these things, they were amazed, saying that it was truly so. And he said to them, "Prepare greens for us; for more brothers will come to us today." And as they were still preparing, the brothers arrived and they greeted one another.

One of the brethren asked to live with him in the desert, wishing to do so. And when he said that he was not able to endure the temptations of the demons, the former, having become more contentious, promised to endure everything. And having indeed received him, he commanded him to dwell in another cave. But the demons, having arrived by night, attempted to strangle him, having first sufficiently confounded him with shameful thoughts. Having run out, he reported what had happened to Abba Hellen. And the latter, having drawn a circle around the place, commanded him to stay there from then on with confidence.

When their loaves once failed in the cave, an angel having appeared in the likeness of a brother brought them food. At another time, the brothers, ten in number, who were looking for him, were wandering along the desert, continuing for the seventh day without food. Having found them, he commanded them to rest in the cave. But as they reminded him about diet, he, having nothing to set before them, said to them, "God is able to prepare a table in the wilderness." And immediately, before the doors, a certain beautiful young man stood, knocking while they were praying. Having opened, they saw the young man holding a large basket full of loaves and olives; and having received them, they partook, giving thanks to the Lord, with the boy having immediately vanished. These and many other wonderful things Father Kopres related to us, and having treated us with hospitality in the proper way, he brought us into his own garden, showing us palms and other fruit-bearing trees, which he himself had planted in the desert, having been reminded by the faith of the rustics. To whom he said that the desert can also bring forth fruit for those who have faith in God. For as I saw, he said, those who had sown in the sand, and their field had brought forth fruit, I myself also attempted the same thing, and I attained the same result.

CAPITULUM LIX. Of abbot Appelles the priest.

CAPITULUM LX. Of abbot John.

^B his monasteries, that some of them do not have a correct rule of life. And he writes a letter to all through the priest, that some are listless, while others hasten toward virtue. And the truth was found to be thus. He writes also to the Fathers, that some of them are negligent concerning the salvation of their brothers, while others admonish them sufficiently; and he announced the rewards and the punishments of both. And again, calling others to a more perfect state, he reminded them to withdraw from the sensible to the intellectual. For it is time now to demonstrate such a mode of life. For we ought not, he says, to remain children and infants for all time, but already to advance to more perfect thoughts, and to take hold of courage, and ^B to advance to the greatest virtues. These things and more the Father related concerning the man, all of which, due to the excess of the wonder, we did not write down; not because they were not true, but because of the unbelief of some. We, however, have been sufficiently made certain by many and great men who related to us the same things, and who have seen them with their own eyes.

CAPITULUM LXI. Of abbot Paphnutius.

CAPITULUM LXII. Of the Piper.

CHAPTER LX. Vita abbatis Appelle.

We also saw another presbyter in parts of the upper region, Appelles by name, a just man who had first practiced the trade of a blacksmith, and subsequently turned to the exercise of the monastic life. When the devil came to him in the guise of a woman, at a time when he was handling certain blacksmith's tools for the monks' use, he snatched an iron plate from the fire and, because of his haste, held it in his hand, scorching his entire face and body—and the brothers heard him howling in his cell. From that time on, that man always held ignited iron in his hand without being harmed. When he had received us kindly and humanely, he told us about the excellent and God-worthy men who had been with him and were still alive.

CHAPTER LXI. Vita alterius Joannis.

There is, he says, in this wilderness a brother of ours, John by name, already advanced in age, but surpassing all monks in virtues, whom no one can easily find, because he is always changing his place in the wilderness. He first stood for three years under a certain rock, praying perpetually, not sitting at all, and not sleeping, except for the little amount of sleep he stole while standing; and he ate nothing else, receiving only the Eucharist on the Lord's Day, brought to him by a presbyter. So much so that when one day Satan had transformed himself into a presbyter, he approached him quickly, pretending that he wanted to give him the Eucharist. But when the blessed John recognized him, he said to him: "O father of all fraud and malice, enemy of all justice, will you not cease to deceive the souls of Christians, but dare to insult the holy Sacraments?" The devil replied to him: "I was very close to having deceived you and brought you to ruin; for in this same way I seduced one of your brothers, and having disturbed his mind, I drove him to insanity." For whom, when many just men had prayed much, they could scarcely bring about that he possessed a sound mind. And when the demon had said these things, he departed from him.

^A When his feet were broken from the fact that he had stood immobile for such a long time, and pus was coming out, an angel arrived and touched his body, saying: "Christ will be your true food, and the Holy Spirit your true drink; in the meantime, however, spiritual nourishment suffices for you, lest you vomit from being overfilled." And when he had cured him, he moved him from the place. Afterward, he led his life in the wilderness, wandering about and eating herbs; but on the Lord's Day, he was found in the same place, taking Communion. When he had asked for a few palm branches from the presbyter, he would make belts for animals. When a certain lame man wished to come to him to be cured, and had merely mounted an ass, as soon as his feet touched the belt that had been made by the holy man, he was immediately cured. At other times, he used to send blessings to the sick, and they were liberated from their diseases immediately. Furthermore, it was revealed regarding his monasteries that some of those who are in them do not order their lives correctly, and through the presbyter he writes letters to all, that some of them are dedicated to leisure, while these others struggle towards virtue; and it was found that the truth is thus. He writes also to their Fathers that some among them are less anxious for the salvation of the brothers, while others exhort them as much as is sufficient, and he announced the honors and punishments of both. And again, urging others also toward a more perfect state, he admonished them that they should transfer themselves from those things which are perceived by the senses to those which are perceived by the intellect. It is time, he says, to henceforth show such a pattern of life. "For we must not," he says, "at all times remain as boys and infants, but now apply ourselves to more perfect thoughts and grasp the virtue of a great and lofty soul, and tackle other very great virtues." These and many other things the Father told us about the Father, things which, because they exceed the measure of a miracle, we have not written down; not because they are not true, but due to the incredulity of some. We, however, have been made sufficiently certain of these facts, since many great men, who saw them with their own eyes, have recounted them to us.

Chapter LXII: On Abbot Paphnutius.

We also saw the retreat of Paphnutius the anchorite, a man great and endowed with virtue, who not long ago was perfected in the region that is around the Heracleotes of the Thebaid; concerning whom many have told many things.

CHAPTER LXIII. On the Flute Player.

For after much exercise he asked God that it might be signified to him to which of those saints who acted rightly he was similar. An angel appeared and said to him: "You are similar to the flutist who lives in this city." He then traveled to him diligently, asked him about the pattern of his life, and investigated all the deeds of his life. He, however, said to him what was also true: that he was a sinner, and a drunkard, and a whoremonger; and that not so long ago he had abandoned himself to the art of robbery. But when he was accurately examined as to what good he had ever done, he said that he was conscious of no honest deed, except that when he was once leading the life of a robber, he had liberated a virgin of Christ, to whom a crime was to be committed by the robbers, and had led her to the village at night. "Again, however," he said, "I found another ^D beautiful woman wandering in the wilderness, fleeing from the officials and curials of the governor and senators, on account of the public debt of her husband, and lamenting her own error. I inquired of her the cause of her weeping. She, however, said: 'Do not ask me, master, nor examine a wretch; but as your handmaid, take me wherever you wish.' For when her husband, in the space of two years, had been frequently whipped on account of a public debt of three hundred gold coins, and had been cast into prison, and my three most dear sons had been sold, I am retreating as a fugitive, changing place for place: now, however, even wandering through the wilderness, frequently found and constantly whipped, I have remained for three days empty-handed in the wilderness." "I, however," said the robber, "took pity on her; and when

had led her into the cave, I gave her three hundred gold pieces, and I led her as far as the city, and I set her husband and children free, without any disgrace or insult. Paphnutius replied to him: "I, for my part, am not conscious of any such thing in myself, though you have heard that I am celebrated for my ascetic discipline; for I have not spent my life in idleness. God has therefore revealed to me concerning you that you are in no way inferior to me in your deeds; if, therefore, O brother, no small account is held of you by the Deity, do not carelessly neglect your own soul." He, however, immediately cast aside the pipes he was holding in his hands, and the harmony of the musical lyre, and followed the man into the desert. When he had exercised himself to the best of his ability for three years, and had passed the time of his life in hymns and prayers, he directed his journey to heaven, and having been numbered with the choirs of angels and the orders of the just, he rested.

CHAPTER LXIV. De Protocomite.

When therefore he had sent to God him who had exercised himself in virtues, after he had imposed upon himself a greater and more accurate rule of life than he had before, he asked God that it might be revealed to him to whom among the saints he was similar, and again the divine voice came to him, saying: "You are similar to the chief of the neighboring village" (Ruff., l. II, cap. 16). He went to him most speedily; and when he had knocked at the door, that man came forward, as was his custom, to receive the guest. And when he had washed his feet, and had set out a table, he encouraged him to eat. But when he was inquiring into his acts and was saying to him: "Tell me, O man, the rule of your life; for as God has showed me, you have surpassed many monks," he said that he was a sinner and unworthy of the name of monk. But when he insisted on asking, the man replied, saying: "I do not indeed have need to tell of the things which have been done by me; but since you say that you have come from God, I will relate what pertains to me. It is now the thirtieth year since I separated myself from my wife, although I had lived with her for only three years, and had received from her three sons, who also serve me for my own needs; but I have never failed in hospitality down to this present day: none of my companions boasts that he has received a guest before me. No beggar or guest has gone out from my hall empty-handed, who had not first been provided with a traveling allowance suitable to his reason. I have not looked past a pauper afflicted with misfortune, to whom I did not provide what was sufficient for his comfort. I have not accepted the person of my son in judgment, no fruits of others have entered into my house, there has been no dispute which I have not settled and pacified, no one has blamed my sons because they behaved dishonestly, my flocks have not touched others' fruits, I have not been the first to sow my fields, but when I had proposed them to all as common property, I gathered what was left over. I have not allowed the poor to be oppressed by the power of the rich, I have not caused any one trouble in my life, I have never delivered an evil judgment against anyone. I am conscious that these things have been done by me, God willing." When Paphnutius had heard the virtues of this man, he kissed his head, saying: "May the Lord bless you from Zion; and may you see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of your life" (Ps. CXXVII). "For in these things you have conducted yourself rightly: but one thing remains for you, which is the summit of virtues, namely, the wise knowledge of God in every part, which you will not be able to attain without labor, unless you deny yourself to the world, take up the cross, and follow the Savior." He, however, when he heard these things, immediately, without even bidding his own farewell, followed the man into the mountain. And when they had come to the river, no boat being found, Paphnutius ordered him to cross the river on foot, which, because of its depth, no one at that time had crossed on foot. When they had crossed, and the water had reached them up to the waist, he stood him in a certain place. Yet when he had separated himself, he prayed to God that he might be seen as more excellent than such men. But not much time having elapsed, he saw the man’s soul being assumed by angels praising God and saying: "Blessed is he whom you have chosen and taken: he shall dwell in your courts" (Ps. LXIV). And again with the just responding and saying: "Much peace have they who love your law, and there is no scandal for them" (Ps. CXVIII). And then he knew the man had died.

Chapter LXV. De Mercatore.

But when the abbot Paphnutius persevered in venerating God with prayers, and in multiplying his fasts, he again prayed that it might be shown to him to whom he was similar (Ruff., [alt-version omitted] merchant seeking good pearls; but arise now, and do not delay; for there will occur to you a man to whom you are assimilated." When he had descended, he saw a certain Alexandrian merchant, pious and a lover of Christ, trading in twenty thousand gold pieces, descending from the upper Thebaid with ten ships, who had distributed all his resources and merchandise to the poor. He was bringing ten sacks of legumes to him with his sons. "And what are these, O friend?" Paphnutius said to him. But he said to him: "They are the fruits of my trade, which are offered to God for a righteous refreshment." "But what are these," said Paphnutius to him, "and you do not partake in our name?" But he confessed that he was studiously striving for that. Paphnutius answered him: "How long then do you exercise earthly trade, and not attain to heavenly merchandise? But you were about to dismiss those things to others; you, however, joining yourself to those things which are most opportune, follow the Savior, to whom you will come a little later." He, however, delaying nothing, ordered his sons to distribute the rest to the poor; but he himself, when he had ascended into the mountain, and had shut himself up in that place where the two former ones had been consummated, persevered in prayers. A short time having elapsed, having left his body, he became a citizen of heaven. After he had sent him also on to the heavens, he himself also gave up his spirit, as one who could no longer exert himself. But an angel standing by him said: "Approach hither now, come you also, O blessed one, into the eternal tabernacles of God, for the prophets have come for you into their choirs."

^A Paphnutius kissed his head, saying: "The Lord shall bless you out of Zion, and you shall see the good things of Jerusalem." There remains for you the head of the virtues: the all-wise knowledge of God, which you cannot acquire without labor unless you renounce yourself to the world and, taking up your cross, follow the Savior. When he heard these things, he did not even take leave of his own household, but immediately followed the man up to the mountain. And indeed, when they arrived at the river, and no boat appeared, Paphnutius commanded him to cross the river on foot, which no one had ever crossed at that spot on account of its depth. Having passed over, and the water coming up to their waists, he established him in a certain place. He himself, having separated from him, besought God that he might appear greater than such men. After no long time, ^B he saw the man’s soul being taken up by angels, who were praising God and saying: "Blessed is he whom You have chosen and taken; he shall dwell in Your courts." And again the righteous answered and said: "Great peace to those who love Your name." And he knew that the man had been perfected.

CHAPTER LXIV: On the Protocomite

When he had thus sent him, having practiced well in the virtues toward God, and having imposed upon himself a life greater than his former one, he asked God again to reveal to him which of the saints he might be like. And again a divine voice came to him, saying: "You are like the protocomite (chief of the village) of the neighboring village." ^C He went to him as quickly as possible. And indeed, when he knocked at the gate, the man came forward and received the stranger according to custom. Having washed his feet and set a table before him, he urged him to partake of the food. When he inquired about his deeds, and said: "O man, recount your manner of life; for as God has revealed to me, you have surpassed many monks." But he said that he was a sinner and unworthy of the name of monks. As he persisted in asking, the man answered, saying: "I had no need to recount my own deeds. But since you say you have come from God, I will report what is mine to you. It is now the thirtieth year since I separated myself from my wife, having lived with her for only three years, and having had three ^D sons by her, who indeed serve my needs; yet I have not ceased from hospitality until this day. No one among the headmen boasts of having received a stranger before me. No poor man or stranger has left my courtyard empty-handed without first having been provided for appropriately. I have not overlooked a poor man who has met with misfortune without providing him sufficient consolation; I have not accepted the person of a child (i.e., taken bribes/favored) in judgment; I have not allowed another’s fruits to enter my house; there has not been a fight that I have not settled; no one has blamed my children for impropriety; my herds have not touched the crops of others; I have not sown my lands first, but having offered them as common to all, I reaped what was left; I have not allowed the poor to be oppressed by the rich; I have not grieved anyone in my life; I have never brought forth a wicked judgment against anyone; these things, God willing, I know I have done." Hearing this, ^A Paphnutius guided him to the city; having set him free, along with his children and his wife.

CHAPTER LXV: On the Merchant

As Paphnutius continued to beseech God with prayers, and extending his fasting, he asked again to be shown to whom he might be equal. And again the divine voice said: "You are like a merchant who seeks beautiful pearls. But arise now, and do not delay. For the man to whom you are likened will happen to meet you." Having gone down, he saw a certain merchant, an Alexandrian, a pious and Christ-loving man, trading two myriads of gold pieces with a hundred ships, coming down from the Upper Thebaid, who had distributed all his substance and merchandise to the poor and to monks. He, with his own men, was carrying ten sacks of legumes to him. "And what is this, O friend?" Paphnutius said to him. He said ^B to him: "These are the fruits of trade, offered to God for the rest of the righteous." "What then?" says Paphnutius to him, "and are you not enjoying the name of ours?" As he confessed to hastening toward Him because of these things, he answered him: "Until when, then, do you trade in earthly things, while not touching heavenly merchandise? But since you are intending to leave these things to others, do you hold fast to the most opportune; follow the Savior, and soon you shall arrive with Him." He, delaying nothing, directed his own men to distribute the remainder to the poor, and he himself, having gone up to the mountain, and having confined himself in that same place where the two before him were perfected, persevered, praying to God. After a little time had passed, having left the body, he became a citizen of heaven. And when he had escorted even this one to the heavens, finally he himself departed his soul, no longer able to practice further. An angel standing by said to him: "Come hither now, O blessed one, and you also into the eternal tabernacles. For the prophets have come for you into their own choirs."

^A This was not previously revealed to you, so that you would not be puffed up and lose your reward. Having lived for only one more day, after certain presbyters had come to him by revelation, and having explained everything to them, he surrendered his soul. The presbyters openly beheld him being taken up with choirs of the righteous and of angels, and singing hymns to God.

CHAP. LXVI

Concerning Apollonius the martyr.

There was a monk in the Thebaid by the name of Apollonius. This man demonstrated many powers in his way of life, and he was also deemed worthy of the name of the ministry. Excelling in all virtues those who had ever gained approval in the time of the persecution, he encouraged the confessors of Christ and made many martyrs. And he himself, having been seized, was kept in prison; yet the baser sort of the Greeks kept coming to him, and they brought against him words of provocation and blasphemy.

CHAP. LXVII

Concerning Philemon the martyr and those who were martyrs with him.

There was among them a certain man, a flute-player, notorious for his transgressions, who approached him and insulted him, calling him impious, a seducer, a deceiver, one hated by all men, and one who deserved to die quickly. To whom Apollonius said: "May the Lord have mercy on you, man, and may He not reckon to you as sin anything that you have said." Having heard these things, that flute-player, Philemon by name, was stung in his mind by the man's words and pierced. And having rushed immediately to the ^B judgment seat, he stood by the judge and said to him before the people: "You do unjust things, O judge, by punishing godly and innocent men. For the Christians do nothing base, nor do they speak [of such things], but they even bless their enemies." But the judge, hearing him say these things, at first thought that he was mocking and joking, but when he saw that he persisted: "You are mad," he said to him, "O man, and you have suddenly lost your wits." And he, "I am not mad," he said, "most unjust judge. For I am a Christian." But he, with many flatteries along with the crowd, tried to persuade him. And when he saw him unyielding, he brought all sorts of tortures against him. Taking Apollonius aside and casting him into many torments, he tortured him as a deceiver. And Apollonius said to him: "I would pray, O judge, that you and all those present would also follow me in this my 'deception'." And the judge commanded that both of them be delivered to the fire in the sight of all the multitude. And as they were in the flame, in the presence of the judge, the blessed Apollonius sent forth a voice to God for all the people and the judge to hear: "Do not deliver, O Master, to the beasts the souls that confess You, but show Yourself openly to us." And indeed, a dewy and luminous cloud came and covered the men, having extinguished the fire. ^C The crowds and the judge, having marveled, cried out: "One is the God of the Christians." One of the evildoers reported these things to the prefect of Alexandria; who, having chosen certain cruel and savage bodyguards and guards, sent [them] to have all the prisoners brought to the judge and some others who had confessed. But as they were traveling, grace came upon them along the way, and he began to teach the soldiers. And as they, too, were pierced [in heart] and believed in the Savior, they were all unanimously imprisoned at the judgment seat. The prefect, having beheld them all, as he saw them immovable in their faith, ordered them to be cast into the depths of the sea. This became for them a symbol of baptism; and their own kin, having found them cast upon the shores, built a sanctuary for all of them together, where many powers are performed. For such grace came to be upon the man, that even for what he prayed, he was immediately heard, the Savior having honored him thus; which we also, having prayed at the martyr's shrine, beheld together with those who had been martyred with him. And having worshiped God, we greeted their remains in the Thebaid.

CHAP. LXVIII

Concerning Abba Dioscorus the presbyter.

We saw another presbyter in the Thebaid, Dioscorus by name, a Father to a hundred monks, who, when they were about to approach the grace of God, said to them: "See to it that no one, having been involved in a fantasy of a woman, dares in the night to approach the holy mysteries, lest any of you, having been fantasized, should have a dream." For nocturnal emissions without fantasies, occurring automatically, are not of one's own choice, but have happened involuntarily. For they proceed from nature and are secreted from the excess of matter. Therefore they are not even liable to sin. But fantasies come from free choice, and are a proof of evil intent. A monk must therefore transcend the law of nature, and not even be found in any small defilement of the flesh; but he must wither the flesh and not permit the matter to reside in it. Try therefore to empty the matter by the sufficient extension of fasting; if not, it also incites us to the desires. But the monk ought not to touch the desires at all; for in what would he differ from worldly people? Whom we often see also abstaining from pleasures for the sake of the health of the body, or for other not unreasonable causes; by how much more, then, must the monk be concerned for the cause and health of the soul, and of the mind, and of the spirit?

CHAP. LXIX

Concerning the monks in Nitria.

We were conducted also to Nitria, ^D where we saw many and great anchorites; some of them locals, some of them foreigners, surpassing one another in virtues, and disposed more contentiously toward the ascetic life, and showing every virtue, and in their way of life surpassing one another; and some of them were occupied with contemplation, others with the practical life. For some of them, having seen us from afar coming through the desert, some met us with water, others washed our feet, others washed our garments, others invited us for food; others for the learning of virtues, others for contemplation and the knowledge of God; and whatever each of them was able, he hastened to benefit us. And what could anyone say of all their virtues, being unable to report anything worthily? They inhabit, then, the desert place.

[Beginning:] ...to receive. I did not declare this to you earlier, for fear that if you were puffed up, it might detract from your merits. When he had survived for only one day longer, and some presbyters had come to him through a revelation, he related everything to them and gave up his spirit. When the presbyters clearly saw him being assumed into the choirs of the just and the angels, they praised God.

Chapter LXVI. Life of Abbot Apollonius.

There was in the Thebaid a certain monk, named Apollonius. He showed many virtues and remarkable deeds, and was deemed worthy of the gift of teaching beyond many who were distinguished in those times for their virtues. In the time of persecution, adding courage to the confessors of Christ, he brought many to martyrdom. Moreover, he himself was also seized and kept in prison; to whom used to come those who were the most wicked among the Gentiles, who would dispute with him, assail him with insults, and mock him.

Chapter LXVII. Of Philemon the martyr, and those who were martyrs with him.

There was a certain flute-player among them, a man infamous for his wicked deeds, who, approaching him, would assault him with insults, calling him an impious man, an impostor, and a deceiver, and one who was held in hatred by all, and who ought to die quickly. Apollonius says to him: "The Lord will have mercy on you, O man, and of the things that have been said, may nothing be reckoned to you as a sin." When that flute-player, Philemon by name, had heard these things, he was stung in his soul, pierced by his words. ^C Straightway he went to the tribunal, stood before the judge, and said to him in the presence of the people: "You do unjustly, O judge, who punish pious men who are liable to no guilt; for the Christians do nothing evil, nor do they speak it." But when the judge heard him saying these things, at first he thought he was speaking ironically and mocking; but when he saw him persist: "You are insane," he said, "O man, and your mind is suddenly overturned." But he said: "I am not insane, O most unjust judge, for I am a Christian." The judge then, with many enticements along with the crowd, tried to persuade him; but when he saw him unmoved, he applied every kind of torture to him. And when he had seized Apollonius, and had afflicted him with many insults, he tortured him as a deceiver. Apollonius, however, said to him: "I would wish, O judge, that you and all who are present would follow this my error." The judge, when he said this, ordered both to be committed to the fire, with the whole people looking on. When they were in the flames in the presence of the judge, blessed Apollonius sent forth a voice to God, with the whole people and the judge hearing: "Do not deliver, O Lord, the soul confessing You to the beasts, but show Yourself openly to us" (Ps. LXXII). A dewy and shining cloud came and covered the men, and the fire was extinguished. The crowds and the judge himself, filled with wonder, cried out: "One is the God of the Christians"; but some evil-doer reported these things to the prefect of Alexandria. He, having chosen certain cruel and savage guards and lictors, sent them to lead them in bonds to the judge ^D and Philemon. ^A Therefore, he was led with them and Apollonius, and certain other confessors. But when they were all commencing the journey, grace came upon him, and he began to teach the soldiers. When they, too, were pricked in their hearts and believed in the Savior, they were all bound together in one spirit. When the prefect saw that all these could not be moved from the faith, he ordered them to be thrown into the deep of the sea: this, however, was for them a sign of baptism. When their own people had found them cast upon the shore, they made a single tomb for all, where now many virtues are performed. So great, moreover, was the man's grace, that whatever he had prayed for was immediately granted, the Savior thus honoring him. Whom we also, having prayed for at the place of martyrdom, saw along with those who suffered martyrdom with him, and having worshiped God, we greeted their tabernacles in the Thebaid.

Chapter LXVIII. Life of Abbot Dioscurus the presbyter.

We also saw another presbyter in the Thebaid, named Dioscurus, the father of a hundred monks. He, when they were about to approach the grace of God, used to say to them: "See to it that no one who has had a phantasy of a woman by night should dare to approach the holy Sacraments. Let no one be terrified by visions and phantasms he has dreamt. For those emissions of semen which occur without phantasms happen by accident; nor are they in the free will of an individual, but occur without his will; for they proceed from nature and are excreted from redundant matter, wherefore they are not liable to sin: but visions and phantasms proceed from the free will of choosing, and are a proof of an evil mind. It is necessary, however," he says, "for a monk to transcend even the law of nature; let the body be clear, and let it not be found in any defilement of the flesh, but let him macerate the flesh and not grant that matter should abound in it. Strive, therefore, to exhaust it by frequent and prolonged fastings; otherwise, they incite us to appetites and desires. But a monk ought not to touch the appetites of the mind. For in what would he differ from the worldly, whom we often see abstaining from pleasures for the sake of bodily health, or for other causes not at all alien to reason? How much more then," he says, "must a monk care for the health of soul and spirit!"

Chapter LXIX. The Nitrian Anachorets.

We arrived also at the Nitrians, where we saw many and great anachorets; partly indeed natives, partly even guests, who surpassed one another in virtues, and exercised themselves with great zeal, and in life strove to surpass one another. Some of them were occupied in contemplation, others indeed in action. When some of them saw us coming from afar, some indeed met us with water; and others washed our feet, others cleaned our clothes, others invited us to food, others to contemplation and the knowledge of God, and whatever each of them could do, in that they strove to help us. And what could anyone say of all their virtues, since nothing could...

what words can express their worth? They inhabit a desert place, having cells separated by a great distance from one another, so that no one can be recognized from afar by another, nor be quickly seen, nor can a voice be heard; but they live in much quiet, each enclosed by himself. Only on Saturday and Sunday do they gather in the churches and welcome one another. Many of them are often found in their cells for four days at a time, seeing no one except at the synaxis. Some of them would come to the synaxis from a distance of three or four miles, so far are they removed from one another. Yet such charity do they have among themselves, even beyond the rest of the brotherhood, that for many who wish to be saved with them, each one strives to offer his own cell for them to find refreshment. ^A

CHAPTER LXX. Vita abbatis Ammona presbyteri

There is also another solitude in Egypt, maritime, indeed, but very difficult, in which dwell many great anchorites; it is near the city of Diolcus. We saw there a holy and very humble priest, named Ammonas, who constantly saw visions. Once, while offering sacrifice to God, he saw an angel standing at the right of the altar, noting the brothers approaching for grace and writing down their names in a book. When some were absent from the synaxis, he saw the names of those who died three days later being erased. Demons frequently tormenting him brought him to such weakness that he could not stand at the altar, nor offer; but an angel coming, having taken his hand, immediately strengthened him and set him sound at the altar. When the brothers saw his torments, they were astonished. ^B

On Abbot Ammonius and those who were with him

We also saw their Father, who was there, named Ammonius, having excellent cells, an atrium, a well, and other necessities. When a certain brother who wished to be saved came to him and asked him to find him a cell to dwell in, he would go out at once and charge him not to leave the cells until he had found him a suitable dwelling; and when he had left everything he possessed to him, along with the cells themselves, he enclosed himself in a small cell. If more were gathered who wished to be saved, he would assemble the entire brotherhood, and with one providing bricks, another water, the cells would be completed in a single day. And those who were to dwell in the cells were called to a meal in the church; while they were refreshing and gladdening themselves, each one, having filled his sheepskin or basket from his own cell with bread or other necessities, would bring them to the new cells so that no one knew the offering of each individual. At night, those coming to dwell in their cells would suddenly find all necessities. Many of them ate neither bread nor fruit, but only wild chicory. Some of them did not sleep at all during the night, but sitting or standing until morning, they persevered in prayer.

Chapter LXXI: The life of Abbot Isidore and those who were with him.

We saw in the Thebaid the monastery of a certain great Isidorus, which contained within it a thousand monks. It had inside wells, gardens, and whatever things were necessary for use, with no one exiting outside the monastery; but there was a priest acting as doorkeeper, who permitted no one to go out, nor anyone to enter, unless one wished to remain there until death without ever going forth. Moreover, he would receive those who entered through the gate with hospitality in a small room; and when he had given them the *eulogiae* in the morning, he would send them away in peace. Only two of the priests among them would go out, administering the works of the brethren and bringing back what was necessary for their use. The priest who guarded the gate said to me that those who were within were holy, such that they could all perform signs; and that no one fell into sickness before death; but when the translation of each one had come, it signaled it to all and reclined, to sleep. ^C

CHAPTER LXXII. Vita abbatis Ammona presbyteri

[Already reflected in the text above, see note: *Vita abbatis Ammona* refers to the anchorite/priest in Diolcus.]

CHAPTER LXXIII. De abbate Joanne

We saw another as well in Diolcus, named John, the father of monasteries, who himself also had much grace, with the habit of Abraham and the beard of Aaron. He performed virtues and cures, in that he healed many suffering from paralysis and gout.

Chapter LXXIV: The life of Abbot Pityrion and those who were with him.

We saw in the Thebaid a high mountain overhanging the river, very terrible and precipitous, and monks living there in caves. Their father was named Pityrion, who was one of the disciples of Antonius and the third to succeed to that place; he performed many virtues and effectively expelled spirits. For as he had succeeded Antonius and his disciple Ammonas, he deservedly also succeeded to the inheritance of gifts. He held many discourses with us, and in particular, he disserated accurately concerning the discernment of spirits, saying that there are some demons that follow the movements of the mind and often pervert our affections toward evil. Therefore, whosoever—o my sons, he would say to us—wishes to cast out demons, he must first bring his affections of the soul into subjection; for whatever affection one has overcome, its corresponding demon he also casts out. You must gradually conquer your affections, so that you may cast out their demons. Gluttony is followed by a demon. If, therefore, anyone has overcome gluttony, he casts out its demon. He himself would eat twice in the week, on the Lord's day and on Thursday, a small portion of porridge made of flour; he could not consume anything else, because he had so formed his habit. ^D

Chapter LXXV. Vita Eulogii presbyteri

We saw also another priest, named Eulogius, who in offering gifts to God received such...

grace that he could see—but when the time for each person’s removal drew near, manifesting it to all, he would lie down and fall asleep.

CHAPTER LXXII. De Ammona

There is another desert in Egypt, indeed on the coast, but most severe, in which dwell many great anchorites; it is situated near the city of Diolcus. We saw there a holy Father, a priest, very humble and one who saw continuous visions, by name Ammonas. This man, once offering the services to God, saw an angel standing at the right of the altar, taking note of the brothers approaching for grace and writing down their names in a book. If some were not present at the assembly, he saw their names being erased. Those very ones died after thirteen days. This man, having often been tormented by demons, was afflicted with such weakness that he was unable to stand at the altar or even to offer. But an angel came and, taking hold of his hand, strengthened him immediately and set him, healthy, at the altar; the brothers, having seen his torments, were struck with amazement.

CHAPTER LXXIII. De abbate Joanne

We saw also another, John, in Diolcus, a Father of monasteries, who also had great grace, both the Abrahamic habit and the beard of Aaron, and who performed powers and healings, and cured many paralytics and those with gout. ^B

CHAPTER LXXIV. De abbate Pityrione

We saw in the Thebaid a high mountain overhanging the river, very daunting and craggy, with monks living there in caves. There was a Father among them named Pityrion, one of the disciples of Anthony, and the third to succeed to that place, who often performed other powers and was actively engaged in the driving out of spirits. For having succeeded Anthony and his disciple Ammonas, he naturally also received the inheritance of the charisms; he gave us many other discourses. Indeed, he also strongly discoursed regarding the discernment of spirits, that there are certain demons that follow the passions and often twist our passions toward evil. “Whoever, therefore, O children,” he says to us, “wishes to drive away the demons, let him first enslave the passions. For whoever gains the mastery over a passion, he also drives away its demon; and you must little by little enslave the passions, so that you may drive out the demons of these. A demon follows gluttony. If, therefore, you master gluttony, you drive away the demon of it.” The man ate twice in the week, on the Lord’s day and on Thursday, only broth of flour, being unable to partake of anything else, because he had so formed his habit. ^C

Chapter LXXV. De abbate Eulogio presbytero

We saw also another priest named Eulogius, who in offering the gifts to God received such grace...

the father of many monasteries and the head of a great brotherhood, numbering as many as ten thousand members. He performed a great administration throughout the brotherhood, as all would gather their fruits together at harvest time to him; and they would bring for the wages of the summer gathering twelve artabae of wheat each annually, that is, about forty of the measures we call modii. He provided for these in the ministry to the poor through his own hand, so that no one was left in need in the surrounding country, but he even sent to the poor in Alexandria. Nor did the aforementioned Fathers throughout all of Egypt ever neglect this stewardship, but from the labors of the brotherhood they sent ships full of wheat and clothing to the poor in Alexandria, because such needy people were scarce among them. ^B

CAPUT LXXVII. De Posidonio. The things concerning Posidonius the Theban, a man most proven and most enduring—many things, and indeed indescribable—how he was meek, and how most ascetic, and what a measure of guilelessness he had within himself, I do not know if I have ever encountered in anyone else. For I lived for a year with him in Bethlehem, when he sat beyond the Shepherd’s watch. And I saw many virtues of his, among which he himself was telling me one day that “Having lived for a year in the Porphyrite region, I met no man in the whole year; I heard no conversation, I did not touch bread, but I lived on a few little dates, and if I found any wild herbs.” ^D Among which, once when my food failed, I went out from the cave to go to the inhabited world. And having walked through the whole day, I barely got two miles away from the cave. Looking around, I see a horseman wearing the appearance of a soldier, having a visor-helmet on his head. And expecting him to be a soldier, I rushed back to the cave. And having gone in, I found a basket of fresh-cut grapes and figs, which I took, and having become very joyful, I went into the cave and lived for two months, having those foods as comfort. This wonder also the admirable Posidonius performed in Bethlehem: A certain pregnant woman had an unclean spirit, and at the very time she was about to give birth, she was having a difficult labor, the spirit crushing her. ^A When the victim was demonized, her husband stood by and implored the holy Posidonius to come. When we had entered together to pray, he stood and prayed, and after a second kneeling, he cast out the spirit. Then, rising, he said to us: “Pray, I entreat you, now. For as the unclean spirit is being driven out, it must have some sign for us, so that we may be persuaded that this is so.” And immediately as the demon went out, it threw down from the foundations the whole wall of the courtyard. This woman had not spoken for six years. After the demon had gone out, the woman gave birth and spoke.

CAPUT LXXVIII. De Hieronymo. Regarding this man, I mean the celebrated Posidonius, I also learned of a prophecy. For a certain Hieronymus, a priest, had gone to those parts, adorned with great ability in Latin letters and possessing sufficient talent. But he had such envy that the virtue of his words was covered by it. Therefore, the holy Posidonius, having been with him for many days, said to me in confidence: ^B

CAPUT LXXIX. De Paula. “That the free woman Paula, who cares for him, will die before him, having been freed from his envy, as I think. But because of this man, no holy man will dwell in those parts, but his envy will extend even to his own brother.” In which indeed the thing came to pass.

CAPUT LXXX. De Oxyperentio. For he also drove away from there the blessed Oxyperentius the Italian.

CAPUT LXXXI. De Petro. And also another Egyptian named Peter.

CAPUT LXXXII. De Simeone. And Simeon, marvelous men, whom I have hitherto noted. This most ascetic and virtuous Posidonius was telling me that he had no experience of bread from his fortieth year; nor indeed had he harbored a grudge against anyone for even half a day. These are the struggles and signs of the noble athlete of Christ, Posidonius, which he performed by the providence of all the powers, greater than these. And in these was the celebrated end of the blessed man’s life.

CAPUT LXXXIII. De Serapione. There was a certain Serapion by name, an Egyptian by birth, called Sindonius (for except for a linen cloth he never wore anything else at all), who practiced great poverty; wherefore he was also called "The Apathetic." Being well-educated, he used to memorize all the divine Scriptures; he, from his great poverty and study of the divine oracles of the Spirit, was not even able to remain quiet in a cell, so that he would not be distracted in substance. But he joyfully followed an apostolic life. Going about the world, he attained the virtue of the highest poverty, so as to possess complete apathy. For he had become part of this habit too. For there are differences of habits, but not of essences. And the Fathers used to say that having taken a certain fellow-traveler

the gift of discernment, so that he might know the mind of each of those who came to the monks. He, having often seen certain monks about to approach the altar, restrained them, saying: "How do you dare to approach the holy sacraments while you have evil thoughts? You, indeed, have this night turned over in your mind a shameful thought of fornication; another, however, has considered in his mind, saying that it makes no difference whether a sinner or a righteous man approaches the grace of God; another has doubted concerning the gift, saying: 'Will it sanctify me as I approach?' Therefore, withdraw a little from the holy sacraments, and perform penance from the heart, so that you may have remission of sins and be worthy of the communion of Christ. For unless you have first cleansed your thoughts, you will not be able to approach the grace of Christ." ^B

Caput LXXVI. The Life of Serapion the Presbyter.

We saw also in the regions of the Arsinoite a certain presbyter named Serapion, a father of many monasteries, who presides over a great brotherhood, amounting to ten thousand in number, and who carries out a great distribution among the brothers, since all, at the time of harvest, bring all their fruits to him—which they have received as the harvest wage—each one giving annually twelve artabae of grain, which are like forty of what we call *modii*. And he distributes them himself for the ministry of the poor, so that from then on there is no poor man in the region round about, and he even sends to those who are poor in Alexandria. Nor did the aforementioned fathers throughout all of Egypt ever neglect this administration; but from the labors of the brotherhood, they sent ships full of grain and clothing to the poor in Alexandria, because there were few among them who were in need. ^C

Caput LXXVII. The Life of Abbot Posidonius.

The accounts of Posidonius the Theban are many, and difficult to narrate—how he was meek, and most energetic in disciplining himself, and what innocence he possessed. I do not know if I have met anyone like him. For I lived with him for one year in Bethlehem, when he sat beyond Poemenius, and I saw many of his virtues; and among other things, he himself told me one day: "When I was living," he said, "in the Porphyrite place for one year, during the whole year I met no man, I did not hear conversation, I tasted no bread, except when I used a few dates, and if I could find wild herbs. At that time, when my bread had sometimes run out, I went out from the cave to come into the inhabited world, and when I had walked for a whole day, I was barely two miles from the cave. When therefore I had looked around, I saw a horseman carrying a soldier's habit before him, having a turban-crowned helmet on his head; and when I had conjectured that he was a soldier, I went back to the cave and found a basket of grapes and figs recently gathered: which, when I had taken, I came back happy to the cave, having those foods for my sustenance for two months."

^D This miracle, moreover, the blessed Posidonius performed in Bethlehem. A certain pregnant woman had an unclean spirit, and at the very time she was about to give birth, she was laboring in travail, the spirit crushing her. When therefore the woman was being vexed by the demon, her husband arrived and asked that holy man to be present, and when we had entered to pray, and he had stood and prayed, after the second genuflection, he cast out the spirit. Rising, he said to us: "Pray, for now the unclean spirit is being cast out. It is necessary, however, that there be some sign so that we may be made more certain of it." But as the demon departed, it tore down the wall of the hall from its foundation. The woman, moreover, had not spoken for six years; but after the demon had departed, she both gave birth and spoke.

Caput LXXVIII. Concerning Hieronymus.

Of this holy man I knew this prophecy also; for a certain presbyter, Hieronymus, was living in those places, who was endowed with great virtue in the Roman language and with an illustrious intellect; but his envy was so great that the virtue of his teaching was overwhelmed by it. When, therefore, the holy Posidonius had associated with him for many days, he said to me in my ear:

Caput LXXIX. Concerning Paula.

"Noble Paula, who manages his care, will die beforehand, freed from his envy. But as I judge, because of this man, no holy man will live in these places, but his envy will extend even to his own brother." And the matter turned out so.

Caput LXXX. Concerning Oxyperentius.

For indeed he drove the blessed Oxyperentius the Italian from here.

Caput LXXXI. Concerning Peter.

And a certain other Egyptian, Peter.

Caput LXXXII. Concerning Simeon.

And Simeon, admirable men, whom I noted. This very continent and most observant man of virtue, Posidonius, told me that for forty years he had not tasted bread, nor had he remembered an injury received, up to midday. These are the struggles and signs of that illustrious athlete of Christ, Posidonius, which the providence of Him who is the greatest of all virtues performed; and in these is the distinguished end of the life of this blessed man.

Caput LXXXIII. The Life of Serapion the Sindonite.

There was another, a certain Serapion the Sindonite (for except for a *sindon* [linen sheet] he never wore anything), who exercised a great emptiness of possessions and wealth: for which reason he was also called "the impassible." Although he was unskilled in letters, he recited all the Scriptures from memory. And neither because of the lack of possessions nor the meditation of the Scriptures could he [remain] in a cell.

not because he was drawn by earthly matter, but because he pursued the apostolic life, going about the world to exhibit the most exact virtue of poverty, so that he here attained perfect impassibility. For he was born of this nature; for there are differences of natures, not of substances (read with caution).

The Fathers recounted that when he had acquired a certain trainer who would play/wrestle with him, he sold himself in a certain city to heathen mimes for twenty solidi , and when he had locked the solidi under seal, he kept them with him. And he remained so long and served the mimes who had bought him, until he made them Christians and drew them away from the theater: taking nothing besides bread and water, and not silent of mouth because of the meditation of the Scriptures; but after a long time the mime was first pricked to the heart, then the mime's wife, then their whole family. It is said that at the time when they did not yet know him, he used to wash the feet of both. Both therefore were baptized, departed from the theater; and when they had progressed to an honest and pious life, they revered the man greatly. They say to him, therefore: "Come here, brother, we will free you, inasmuch as you yourself freed us from foul servitude." He says to them, therefore: "Since my God has worked, and you have co-operated, and your soul has been made safe, I will tell you the mystery of the act. I, having pity on your soul which was wandering in much error, being a free wrestler, Egyptian by birth, for that reason sold myself, that I might save you. Since, however, God has done this, and through my humility your soul has escaped safe, receive your gold, that I may also bring aid to others." But when they had begged him much and affirmed, saying: "We will have you as father and master, only stay with us," they could not persuade him. Then they say to him: "Give you the gold to the poor, for that was to us the cause of salvation." He says to them: "Give it yourselves, because it is yours; for I do not give others' money to the poor." Then they urge him, saying: "But at least return to visit us after a year." And so he departed from them.

Coming by frequent travels into Greece, and when he had stayed for three days in Athens, there was none to offer him bread; for he carried neither brass, nor wallet, nor sheepskin, nor staff, none of these, but was clad in a single linen cloth. When, however, the fourth day came, he was very hungry; for he had tasted nothing at that time. For hunger is a grave thing, involuntary, which has as its helper disbelief. And standing over the city's mound, in which those who were constituted in dignity were gathering in the city, he began vehemently and with lamentation to groan, and to cry out: "Men of Athens, bring aid." To whom all who wore the pallium and byrrus running up, say to him: "What have you, whence are you, and what do you suffer?" He truly says to them: "By birth indeed an Egyptian, a monk by profession; from which time I am away from my true country, I fell into three creditors: and two indeed have departed from me, having had their debt paid off, when they did not have [the means] from which they might bring me to trial; but one does not depart from me." They therefore diligently asking that they might satisfy them, were asking him: "Where are they? Who is he who offers you trouble?" He shows them *[him]*: "Avarice, and gluttony, and fornication have offered me trouble; and from two indeed I have been freed, namely avarice and fornication; for I neither have gold, nor do I possess anything else; I do not enjoy the delights which are the nurses of this disease: wherefore they offer me no more trouble. But from gluttony I cannot withdraw; for already for four days I have eaten nothing, and my belly continues to offer me trouble, seeking its customary due, without which I cannot live." Then certain philosophers, suspecting him to tell things that were composed and fictional, give him a solidus: which, being accepted, he placed in a bread-shop, and having accepted bread he departed; immediately having set out from the city, and not having returned to it again. Then the philosophers knew that he had truly been endowed with virtue; and when they had given the price of the bread to the baker, they received the solidus.

When he had come into parts near Lacedaemon, he heard that someone from the first of the city was a Manichæan together with his whole house, otherwise a good man. This excellent monk sold himself to this man again, as in the first act. And when within two years he had led him away from the heresy, and his wife with the whole family, he led them into the Church. Then they, loving him, no longer had him as a slave, but as more than a germane brother and father, and honored him with great honor, and with him praised God. Shortly after, when he had exhorted them with many things, this diamond Serapion, having left these behind, having paid his price to the masters, threw himself into a ship as if to sail to Rome. The sailors, however, conjecturing that he had either brought expenses, or had in gold what he might spend, inquired nothing else of him and received him, one thinking that another had accepted his utensils. When, however, they had sailed away, and were five hundred stadia from Alexandria, the passengers began to eat about the setting of the sun, while the sailors had eaten earlier. They saw him, however, not eating on the first day; and they thought the cause to be the voyage, similarly also on the second, and third, and fourth day; but on the fifth day they see him sitting quiet, while all were eating, and they say to him: "Man, why do you not eat?" But he says to them: "Because I have nothing to eat." When therefore they had inquired among themselves who had accepted his utensils or expenses, but had seen that no one had accepted (for he did not have anything), they began to contend with him: "How did you get on board thus without expenses? How will you give us fare? By what, moreover, are you fed?" But he says to them: "I have nothing; take me, and throw me out where you found me." They, however: "Why are you angry? Even if you gave us a hundred aurei, we would gladly do this, since the wind for us is so favorable; therefore let us urge the goal, accomplishing what is proposed to us." So it was in the ship, and they fed him even to Rome. When, however, he had come to Rome, he curiously inquired who was in the city a great wrestler or wrestleress.

^A and of gluttony. For I have no gold, nor do I possess anything else; I do not enjoy luxury, for this infirmity of my food; therefore they no longer trouble me. But I am not able to be rid of gluttony. For I have gone four days today without eating, and my stomach remains for me like a harsh creditor, strangling me and demanding the customary debt, which, if I do not pay, it does not permit me to live. Then some of the philosophers thought the matter was a stage-show, yet they gave him a coin. Receiving this, he placed it in a bakery, and having taken one loaf of bread, he departed immediately, walking out of the city, and never again returned to it. Then the philosophers realized that this man truly possessed a virtuous life. And having given the price of the bread, they took back the coin.

Coming, then, from there to the regions around Lacedaemon, he heard of one of the chief men of the city who was a Manichaean in doctrine, yet together with all his house, a man virtuous in other respects. This excellent one among the monks sold himself to him once again, as in the first instance, and within two years, having turned him away from the heresy, and having set him free along with his whole household, he brought these to the Church. They loved him no longer as a servant, but as a genuine brother and father, holding him in great honor, and glorifying God with him.

After a little time, having exhorted them much, the spiritual adamant Serapion departed and cast himself into a ship, having sold the price to these, just as to his [former] masters, not carrying anything at all with him, as he was intending to sail to Rome. The sailors, seeing him, supposed that he had provisions, and had brought [them] into the ship, or that he even possessed much wealth in gold. Therefore, they received him without curiosity, one thinking that another had taken his belongings. When they had sailed and were about five hundred stadia from Alexandria, the passengers began at sunset to eat, the sailors having eaten before them. Seeing that he was not eating on the first day, they suspected that some nausea from the voyage had come upon him; likewise on the second, and again on the third, then on the fourth. On the fifth day, therefore, as all were eating, they see him again sitting quietly; and they say to him: "Why do you not eat, man?" He says to them: "Because I do not have [any]." Hearing this, the sailors inquired among themselves who indeed had taken his provisions in the ship. When they found that no one [had]—for he did not even have anything—they began to dispute with him, saying: "How did you enter here without provisions? And for so long a voyage, from where do you have sustenance, and otherwise how do you have the fare to pay us?" But the long-suffering one says to them: "I do not have anything. Take me away and throw me wherever you find me." But the sailors say to him: "Do you have some illness? Even if you gave a hundred gold pieces, we would do this gladly, so much has there been for us, through God, a fair voyage. Let us hold to our course, accomplishing what is set before us." So, then, he was in the ship without care, and the sailors were found feeding him as far as Rome. Having entered Rome, therefore, the athlete of Christ was walking about in it, [inquiring] who indeed was the greatest of the ascetics, whether a man or an ascetic woman, in the city.

^A And he learned from one of the ascetics about a certain virgin living in seclusion, that she was in her twenty-fifth year, having been confined in a cell and never meeting with anyone. Having learned the house of this noble woman, he went there and said to the old woman who served her, "Tell the virgin that a certain monk has an urgent need to meet with you." The old woman gave him this answer: that for many years she had met with no one. He said to her, "Tell her that I may meet with you; for God sent me to you." But she did not consent even to this. Having remained for three days with persistence, he later met her, and seeing her, he says to her, "Why are you sitting here?" That woman answered him, saying, "I am not sitting, but am on a journey." He says to her, "Where are you going?" The virgin says to him, "To my God." The servant of God says to her, "Are you alive, or are you dead?" That woman says to him, "I trust in my God that I have died to the world. For one who is living in the flesh does not journey to God." Having heard these things, the blessed Serapion says to her, "Therefore, in order that you may assure me that you have died to the world, do what I do." That woman says to him, "Command me only what is possible, and I will do it." He answered her, "To one who is dead, all things are possible, except to commit sin." Then he says to her, "Come down and come out." She answered him, "I have for twenty-five years never gone out, and why should I go out today?" He says to her, "Woe, did you not say, 'I have died to this world'? It is obviously certain that for you the world does not exist. If, then, this is true, a dead person feels nothing. It is therefore the same for you to go out as not to go out." Having heard these things, the virgin came out. After she had come out and arrived at a church, the blessed one found her in the church and said to her, "If you truly wish to convince me completely that you have died, and are no longer living in a way that pleases men, do what I am able to do, and then you will convince me that you have truly died to this world." And the virgin then said, "What do you want me to do?" He says to her, "Having taken off all your garments, place them upon your shoulders as I do, and walk around the center of the city, me being able to shamelessly precede you in this guise." That woman says to him, "But if I do this, I will cause scandal to many because of the indecency of the matter; and some will have it to say that I have lost my senses and am possessed by a demon." The blessed Serapion answers and says to her, "And what does it matter to you if they say this? For you have, as you say, died to them. A dead person never cares if someone reviles him or mocks him; for he is insensible to all things." Then that virgin says to him, "I beseech you, if you wish for something else in the ascetic life, command me, and I will do it; for to this measure I have not yet attained, but I pray to attain it." Then the servant of God Serapion, the detached one, says to her, "See then, sister, no longer be haughty toward yourself as being holier than all, and boasting as if you have died to this world; for you have learned that you are alive, and still please men. For I am able to be dead more than you, being able to show by deed that I have died to the world, being detached from things pertaining to it. For I can shamelessly and without causing scandal do that which I commanded you." Having instructed her in humility by these words, he then left her perfect, and having broken the swelling of her pride, thus the blessed one departed from her. This is the life of Serapion the dispassionate and the most extreme of the poor. Many and glorious are the wonders that the virtuous sophist of Christ has performed, which contribute to dispassion, of which we have written a few from many, having manifested the purity of this life. This immortal one dies in his sixtieth year of age, having been buried in the desert itself.

CHAPTER LXXXVI. Vita Evagrii.

The matters concerning the blessed deacon of Christ, Evagrius, a man who lived according to the apostles, not thinking it right to remain silent, but to hand these things down in writing for the edification of those who chance upon them, and for the glory of the goodness of our Savior—thinking it right, I describe from the beginning how he came to the monastic purpose, and how he lived worthily of his profession, dying at the age of fifty-four, in the desert, according to that which is written: "Having been perfected in a short time, he fulfilled long years." For his soul was pleasing to the Lord. He was by birth a Pontian, from the city of Ibora, the son of a presbyter, having been advanced to reader by the holy Basil, the bishop of the Church of Caesarea in Cappadocia. After the falling asleep of the holy bishop Basil, the most wise and most dispassionate man, shining in every branch of learning, the holy Gregory, bishop of Nyssa, brother of Basil the bishop (who is honored as one of the apostles), observing his aptitude, ordains him deacon. Having come from there, the holy bishop Gregory, in the great synod at Constantinople, leaves him with the blessed bishop Nectarius, being most skilled in dialectic against all the heresies. He flourished, therefore, in the great city, training himself with discourses against every heresy. It happened, therefore, that he—being honored by the whole city for the excellence of his character—was ensnared by the idol of feminine desire, as he himself narrated to us later, having been freed in his mind. But the woman also became enamored of him; and she was one of those of the highest rank. But Evagrius, both fearing God and reverencing his own conscience, and setting before his eyes the reproach of the indecency and the malicious joy of the heretics, prayed to God, beseeching that he be hindered from the hurdle set before him, the woman pressing him to cooperate with her desire, and being frenzied with the passion; and wishing to withdraw from her, he could not, being held by the bonds of her harassment. After not much time, his prayer having progressed before the experience of the act, an angelic vision stood by him in the guise of soldier

CHAPTER LXXXIV: The Life of Abbot Domnion.

Among these he happened upon a certain Domnion, a man of great strength and most abstinent, a disciple of Origen, who was rumored to have performed many miracles and whose bed healed the sick after his death.

CHAPTER LXXXV: Of the Silent Virgin.

Having happened upon him and derived benefit from him (for he was a man adorned in character, erudition, speech, and life), and having learned from him who else was there practicing the ascetic life, he learned of a certain virgin who practiced silence and lived in seclusion, and who for already twenty-five years had been enclosed in a cell, speaking with no one. Having discovered her house, he went and said to the old woman who served her: "Tell the virgin that it is necessary for me to meet her." The old woman replied that she had met with no one for many years. Then he said to her: "Tell her that I should meet her, for God has sent me." But she would not agree even to that. When he had waited two or three days, he met her afterwards. And he said to her: "Why do you sit?" She replied to him: "I do not sit, but walk." He said: "Where are you walking?" She replied: "To God." He then said: "Are you alive, or are you dead?" She said to him: "I believe in God that I am dead to the world; for he who lives in the flesh cannot walk to God." He then said to her: "So that you may assure me that you are dead to the world, do as I do." She said to him: "Command me what can be done, and I will do it." He then said to her: "There is nothing that a dead person cannot do, except that he cannot be wicked." Then she said to him: "Come down and go forth." She replied: "It is now the twenty-fifth year since I have gone out, and why should I go forth?" He said to her: "Woe! Have you not said, 'I am dead to this world'? From which it is manifest that the world is dead to you. If this is true, and a dead person feels nothing, it is the same for you to go out as not to go out; therefore, go forth." She having gone out, and after she had gone as far as a certain church, he said to her in the church: "If, therefore, you wish to assure me that you are truly dead and no longer live to please men, do what I do, and I will know that you are dead." And he said to her: "Stripping off all garments as I do, place them on your shoulders and walk through the middle of the city, with me preceding you in this guise." But she said to him: "By this dishonorable act I shall offend many, and they will be able to say that I am of unsound mind and possessed by a demon." He said to her: "And what is it to you if they say you are of unsound mind and possessed by a demon? For you are dead to them; and to the dead it is no concern if anyone slanders him or mocks him; for he can feel nothing." Then she said to him: "Tell me if there is anything else you wish, for I do not boast that I have attained to this degree." Then Serapion the "Impassible" said to him: "See, then, do not boast any longer and please yourself, as if you were more pious and dead to the world than everyone. For I am more dead than you; and in ^A truth I show myself to be dead to the world, for I do this without any agitation of mind or shame." Then, when he had instructed her in humility and broken her arrogance, he departed.

There are also many other great and illustrious deeds of this teacher of Christ, endowed with virtue, which pertain to impassibility, which we have selected and written down from among many things, so that the purity of his life might be made manifest. He died in his sixtieth year and was buried in the desert.

CHAPTER LXXXVI: Of Evagrius, the Celebrated Deacon.

It is not just to be silent about Evagrius, the clear deacon of Christ, who lived like the apostles; but thinking it right to commit these things to writing for the edification of those who will read them and for the glory of the goodness of our Savior, I explain from the beginning how he came to the monastic life, and how, after he had exercised himself worthily, he died in solitude at the age of fifty-four: who, as it is written, being perfected in a short time, fulfilled long times (Wisdom iv). For in truth his soul was pleasing to the Lord. He was by birth a Pontian from the city of the Iberians, the son of a presbyter, promoted to reader by the holy Basil, bishop of the church of Caesarea in Cappadocia. After the passing of the holy bishop Basil, the most wise Gregory, bishop of Nyssa, clearly illustrious in all doctrine and alien to the agitations of the mind, and brother to the bishop who is honored among the apostles, ^B noticing his aptitude, ordained him as deacon. From there, when the holy bishop Gregory had come to the great council of Constantinople, he left him with the blessed bishop Nectarius, since he was most skilled of all in the art of discourse. He flourished, therefore, in the great city, exulting youthfully in disputations against every heresy. It happened, however, that he who was honored by the whole city for his remarkable goodness of character, was struck by an image of feminine concupiscence, as he himself told us later, when his mind was free. But a certain woman was in turn enamored of him. She was one of the leading women. Evagrius, however, both fearing God and reverencing his own conscience, and having before his eyes the shame of impurity and the joy that heretics take in the misfortunes of others, suppliantly begged God that the goal which the woman had proposed to herself—she who urged him with cupidity and was held by a mad desire for him—might be impeded by Him. And when he wished to retreat from her, he could not, as one who was held by the sweet chains of her compliance. Not much time after this, however, before he had experienced the act, an angelic vision stood by him, bearing the appearance of a military prefect, which seizes him and leads him as if to judgment, and casts him into what is called a guardhouse, with an iron collar placed on his neck and his hands bound with an iron chain, those who had come for him saying nothing of the cause. He, however, being pricked by his conscience, thought he was undergoing these things for her sake, ^C judging the husband of the woman to be the judge in this matter.

^A And so Evagrius remained in great anxiety of mind, while the matter was being dealt with for one cause, and he was being questioned for others on account of such a crime. After, therefore, that great fear and supreme anguish of mind, the angel who from the beginning had provided the vision was transformed, so as to appear to be present as a genuine and sincere friend of Evagrius, who was greatly astonished and affected with sadness on account of the great infamy of the chains, and saying to him as he was bound among forty prisoners: "Why are you held with such ignominy with the accused, Lord Deacon?" He says to him: "Truly I do not know; but I suspect that N., who is one of the prefects, has reported me, moved by jealousy without any reason; and I fear that the magistrate has been corrupted by him with money, and will inflict upon me the greatest punishment." The one who had assumed the figure of a friend says to him: "If you would listen to a friend, I advise you; it is not expedient for you to remain in this city." Evagrius says to him: "If God delivers me from this calamity, and you see me in Constantinople, know that I justly suffer this punishment, and am worthy of a greater one." The friend says: "If it is so, I bring you the Holy Gospel; swear to me upon it that you will depart from this city, and take care of your soul; and I shall deliver you from this necessity." Evagrius, however: "I beseech you," he said, "I will swear as you wish; only deliver me from this dark cloud." In the meantime, however, he brings him the Holy Gospel and demands the oath. Evagrius then swears to him by the Gospel in these words: "I will not remain here longer than one day, and that only to put my clothes on the ship." When the oath had proceeded, he returned to himself from the ecstasy that had happened to him at night. And when he had risen, he considered: "Even if the oath was given to me in an ecstasy, I have sworn nonetheless." Therefore, everything he had having been thrown onto the ship, he came to Jerusalem and was received there by the blessed Melania the Roman. Again, when the devil had hardened his heart like Pharaoh's—as he was a young man and luxurious in his age—doubt again assailed him, and he was of a wavering mind, though he had told no one anything. Whereby it happened that he both changed his clothes again, and in delaying, vainglory brought him stagnation. But God, who prevents the destruction of all of us, again brought calamity upon him, again throwing him into a fever, and then into a long illness, wasting his flesh for a period of six months—which brought him an impediment to virtue, with the doctors doubting and finding no method of cure. Blessed Melania ^D therefore says to him: "Your long illness does not please me, son; tell me, therefore, what you have in your mind, for this illness of yours is not real." He therefore confessed to her the matter that had happened to him in Constantinople. The blessed woman says: "Promise me, with the Lord as witness, that you will follow the aim of the monastic life, and I, although a sinner, will pray to God that a time of respite and an end to your life may be granted to you." And he gave his assent. When he had prayed with her, he recovered within a few days; and when he had risen, he was clothed in the monastic habit by her herself, and traveled abroad to the mountain of Nitria, which is in Egypt; where, having lived for two years, in the third he entered the solitude.

^A When, therefore, he had lived for fourteen years in those places which are called the Cells, he indeed ate a pound of bread a day; and in the space of three months, a sextarius of oil, he who had been raised in a soft, delicate, and luxurious life. He performed, however, one hundred prayers, writing down annually the price only of those things he ate; for he elegantly wrote a rapid script. When, therefore, within the space of fifteen years he had purified his mind, he was held worthy of the gift of knowledge and wisdom, and of the discernment of spirits. He composed three holy books for monks, which is called *Antirrhetica*, that is, *Contradictoria*, providing arts which must be used against demons. Once, the demon of fornication caused him grave trouble, as he himself narrated to us; and he stood in a well the whole night during winter, such that his flesh was constricted by the frost. Sometimes, however, the spirit of blasphemy again caused him trouble; and for forty days he did not enter under a roof, as he himself narrated to us, such that his body, not otherwise than the bodies of wild animals, swarmed with lice. Three demons appeared to him in the habit of clerics, inquiring about the faith with him; and one indeed said he was an Arian, another an Eunomian, and the third an Apollinarian, and he overcame them in a few words by the spirit of wisdom. Again, when one day the key of the church had been lost, the lock having been signed with the cross, he opened it pushing with his hand, Christ having been invoked. He was so beaten by demons, and had such great experience of various demons, that they could not easily be enumerated. To one of his disciples, he told things which were to happen to him after eighteen years, predicting everything to him in detail. But this blessed man used to say: "Since I came to the solitude, I have not touched lettuce, nor a small herb, nor anything green, nor fruit, nor grape, nor a bath, nor meat, nor bread, nor wine, nor entirely anything of those things which pass through fire, except certain raw herbs and a little water." Afterwards, however, in the sixteenth year of his life practiced without cooking by fire, since his flesh, on account of the weakness of his body and stomach, had need that he take something that had passed through fire, he did indeed touch bread, but he did not at all take cooked herbs; but either barley-water or pulse for two years. In these this blessed man consumed his body, vivifying his soul with the Holy Spirit, communicating in the church at the Epiphany. But he narrated to us, this generous athlete of Christ, about the time of his death: "It is now three years since I have been troubled by the desire of the flesh." If, however, after a life so led by virtue, and the immense labor of exercise, and he most especially inflexible, and in constant sober prayer, this immortal one was so invaded by the demon hostile and destructive to the good; what do we think those who are more sluggish suffer from the execrable demon, on account of their own negligence? To this saint, his father's death was once signified, and he says to him who reported it: "Cease to blaspheme, for my Father is immortal." He was speaking of God. Thus far is it accurate.

But the executioner catches him and drags him as if into a courtroom, casts him into what is called the guardhouse, puts iron collars about his neck, and binds his hands with iron chains; and those who had seemingly come upon him would not even tell him the cause of his suffering. But he, being pricked in his conscience, thought he was undergoing these things for that former excuse, expecting that the husband of the woman had approached the judge concerning this matter. And as he stood there in great anxiety, while another case was seemingly being transacted and others were being tortured for a similar crime, Evagrius remained in great distress.

But after that great fear and immeasurable anxiety, the angel who had caused him such great fear in the vision is transformed into the appearance of a genuine friend who had come to visit him. And he, having seemingly been struck with amazement and having become dejected at such great dishonor through the bonds of his genuine friend, says to him as he sat bound among a line of forty convicts: "Why, Lord Deacon, are you held so dishonorably with the convicts?" He says to him: "In truth, I do not know. But I have a suspicion that the one who was a prefect has moved against me, having been struck by irrational jealousy, and I fear that the governor may be corrupted by money from him and heap upon me the greatest punishment." The friend in disguise says to him: "If you listen to your friend, I advise you: it is not advantageous for you to spend time in this city." Evagrius says to him: "If God frees me from this misfortune, and you see me in Constantinople, know that I am justifiably undergoing this punishment, and that I am worthy of a greater one." The friend says to him: "If such is the case, I bring the Gospel; swear to me upon it that you will depart from this city and care for your soul, and I will release you from this predicament." Evagrius says: "I beg you, I swear to you as you wish, only release me from this dark cloud." And in this, he brings him the Gospel ^B and demands the oath. And Evagrius swears to him by the Gospel that he will not remain there for more than one day, and that only to reach his ship and cast his clothes into it. With the oath thus concluded, he went back, anxious, from the ecstasy that had happened to him in the night. And rising, he considered that, even if the oath had happened in an ecstasy, he had nevertheless sworn. Therefore, having put everything he had onto a ship, he comes to Jerusalem, and there he is welcomed by the blessed Melania the Roman. But the devil again hardened his heart, just like Pharaoh’s, and because he was young and vigorous in age, he became hesitant again and dejected, having told nothing to anyone; and there again he was changing his clothes and rejoicing in the dialect out of vainglory. But God, the preventer of the destruction of us all, cast him even there into another predicament, casting upon him a fever, and from that into a long sickness for a six-month period, having withered his flesh, through which he was hindered from virtue. ^C When the doctors were at a loss and could find no method of healing, the blessed Melania says: "It does not please me, my son, this long illness of yours; therefore, tell me what is in your mind. For this sickness is not in truth." He therefore confessed to her what had happened to him in Constantinople. The blessed woman says to him: "Give me the monastic life, and, even if I am a sinner, I will pray to the Lord that you be given a time of recovery and a reprieve of life." And he agreed. And having prayed, within a few days he regained his health. And having arisen, he changed his clothes through her, and he departs, setting out for the desert of Nitria in Egypt, in which having lived for a second year, in the third he enters into the inner desert.

Having lived, therefore, fourteen years in the so-called cells, he would eat a pound of bread a day; and in a three-month period, a sextarius of oil; a man who had been reared from a luxurious and delicate and very soft life. He would offer a hundred prayers, earning only the price of what he ate for the year; for he used to write the sharp-pointed character skillfully. ^D Within, therefore, fifteen years of having purified the mind, he was deemed worthy of the charism of knowledge and wisdom and discernment of spirits. He therefore compiles three books, the *Sacred, the Monk,* and the *Antirrheticus*, so called; having proposed the methods against the demons. To him, the demon of fornication was once a heavy burden, as he himself told us, and through the whole night he stood naked in the well, it being winter, so that his flesh was frozen. At another time, a spirit of blasphemy plagued him, and for forty days he did not enter under a roof, so that his body, like that of wild animals, grew coarse. Three demons stood over him one day in the guise of clergy, debating with him about the faith; and one said he was an Arian, another a Eunomian, and the third an Apollinarian. And he overcame these in a short time through his spiritual wisdom. Again, one of the days, the key of the church having been lost, having signed the face of the lock and pushed with his hand, he opened it, having called upon Christ. So much was this one scourged by demons, and so much experience of diverse demons did he receive, that they could not be easily numbered. And to one of his own disciples, he foretold everything that would happen to him after eighteen years, prophecizing to him in detail. This blessed man would say that, from the time I reached the desert, I did not touch lettuce, nor tender greens, nor anything green, nor fruit, nor grapes, nor bath, nor meat, nor bread, nor wine, nor anything at all that passes through fire, except for raw herbs and a measured amount of water. Later, in the sixteenth year of this way of life, because of the food without fire, since his flesh finally needed it because of weakness and gastric irregularity, to partake of things through fire, he did taste bread, but he no longer partook of cooked greens; but only of pottage or legumes for two years. In these conditions the blessed man’s body passes away, having quickened his soul by the Holy Spirit; having communed at the feast of the Epiphany in the church.

The valiant athlete of Christ was telling us therefore about death, that: "I have been in my third year since I was no longer pestered by fleshly desire." If, after such a life of virtue and immeasurable labor of asceticism, and unceasing toil, and watchful, uninterrupted prayer, the soul-hating and corrupted demon attacked this holy man to such a degree, what then do we consider those who are more sluggish to suffer at the hands of the foul demon, or at the hands of their own negligence? The death of his own father was once signified to this holy man. And he says to the one who reported it: "Cease from blaspheming; for my"

father is immortal." Thus far the supreme life of the virtuous conduct of the renowned Evagrius.

Chapter LXXXVII. On Pior.

There was a certain man named Pior, an Egyptian by race, young in age, who, having renounced the world, departed from his father's house, and by reason of his excessive spiritual love, gave his word to God that he would never again see any of his own kin. Now, after fifty years, his sister, having grown old and learned from someone that her brother was still alive, fell into ecstasies unless she were to see him. Being unable to come out into the desert, she besought the bishop of that region to write to those in the desert that they should send him, so that she might see him. ^A Since much pressure was placed upon him by the Fathers to be obedient, he decided to take another man with him and depart. And he signaled to the house of his sister that "Pior, your brother, has arrived, and stands outside." But perceiving from the sound of the door that his sister was coming out to meet him, Pior shut his eyes and cried out to her: "Sister, whoever you are, I am Pior, your brother; I am he; look, see me as much as you wish." Fully satisfied by this, she glorified God, and though she did many things, she could not persuade him to enter into the house; but having offered a prayer on the threshold, he departed again for the desert, his own homeland, to perfect there the virtue of asceticism. ^B There is also this miracle of his patience recorded: in the place to which he had gone, having dug a well, he found water that was most bitter, and until he died he remained there, content with that alone, that most bitter water, so that the patience of this brave athlete of Christ might be demonstrated. Many of the most proven monks, indeed, after the death of the immortal one, strove to remain in that cell, but were not able to endure it for a whole year. For the water is exceedingly bitter, and the place is very fearsome, and utterly desolate.

Chapter LXXXVIII. On Moses the Libyan.

Moses the Libyan was a man most meek and most filled with love; this man was deemed worthy of the gift of healing. ^C He himself related to me, saying: "I was in the monastery in the prime of my youth, and we dug a very large well, twenty feet in width; we worked at this for three days, with eighty men, and having passed our usual and suspected vein of water by a cubit, we found no water. We were therefore very grieved and were considering abandoning the work. And as we were considering this, the blessed Pior stood before us, arriving from the deep desert at the very sixth hour of the heat, an old man clothed in a sheepskin; and having greeted us, he says to us after the greeting: 'Why have you lost heart, O you of little faith? For I have seen you since yesterday losing heart.' ^D And having said this, he lets down the ladder into the pit of the well and offers a prayer with them. And having taken the spade and brought it down for a third strike, he said: 'O God of the holy patriarchs, do not make the labor of your servants useless, but send to them the necessity of waters.' And immediately water leapt forth, so that we were all drenched. He then prayed again and departed. But as we compelled him to eat there, he would not endure it, saying: 'That for which I was sent, has been accomplished; for that other thing I was not sent.' These are the paradoxical miracles of Pior, that brave pillar of patience, and this is the end of his virtue, instead of the bitter spring, he delighted in an eternal stream of sweetness, enjoying great spiritual joy forever.

Chapter LXXXIX. On Chronius.

A certain man named Chronius, hailing from the village called Phoenix, having measured off from his own village, which was near the desert, ten thousand five thousand steps—counted by the right foot—prayed there, dug a well, and found excellent water at a depth of seven fathoms. And he built for himself a small hospice there. And from the day that he enthroned himself in that dwelling, he prayed to God never again to return to an inhabited place. Many years having passed, he was deemed worthy of the priesthood, an brotherhood having gathered around him of about two hundred men. This, then, is reported to be the virtue of his asceticism: that for sixty years he stood by the altar serving as a priest, and never left the desert, nor ate bread not produced by the labor of his own hands.

Chapter XC. On Jacob.

Dwelling with him was a certain Jacob from the neighborhoods, surnamed the Lame, most gnostic in the extreme. Both were acquaintances of the blessed Anthony.

Chapter XCI. On Paphnutius.

One of the days, Paphnutius also, the one called Cephala—a man of wonder (this man had the gift of knowledge of the divine Scriptures, of the Old and New Testament, and interpreted them all, having never read the Scriptures. He was so meek that his prophetic virtue was concealed) —having come together with him... [E] (there is even a eulogy to his virtue, that for eighty years he did not possess two tunics)—having met with these, I myself and the blessed deacons Evagrius and Albinus sought to learn from them the causes of brothers failing, or falling into misfortune, or stumbling in their daily life.

Chapter XCII. On Cheremon.

For it happened in those days for Cheremon the ascetic to die while sitting, and to be found dead in his chair, holding his work in his hands.

Chapter XCIII. On another.

It happened also for another brother, while digging a well, to be buried by it.

Chapter XCIV. On another.

And another, coming from Scetis, to die from thirst for water.

Chapter XCV. On Stephen who fell away.

We also remembered the matters concerning Stephen who fell into shameful debauchery; and Eucarpius, and the matters concerning Heron the Alexandrian, and concerning Valens the Palestinian, and concerning the Egyptian Ptolemy who was in Scetis. As we asked what was the cause of people living such a life of virtue in such a desert, some being deceived and ruined in their minds, others being conquered by gluttony, and others being destroyed by licentiousness, the saints gave us this answer, Paphnutius the most gnostic saying that: "All things that happen are divided into two, into...

the most perfect and blameless way of life, distinctive of Evagrius.

CHAPTER LXXXVII. Vita abbatis Pior.

There was a certain man named Pior (Ruff. I. III, n. 31; Pelag. libell. IV, n. 34), an Egyptian by birth. While still a youth, he renounced the world, abandoned his father’s house, and, because of his singular spiritual love, vowed to God that he would never see any of his kin again. Fifty years later, his sister, having grown old, learned from someone that her brother was still alive. She was in danger of losing her mind unless she could see him. Since she could not come to the vast desert, she asked the bishop of that place to write to the holy Fathers who were in the solitude, asking them to send him so that she might see him. Since great pressure was brought to bear upon him, he obeyed the Fathers, decided to go, and took another brother with him. He sent word to his sister’s house that her brother Pior was arriving and was standing outside. When he heard the sound of the door and that his sister was coming to meet him, Pior, with eyes closed, called out to her: "O sister, I am Pior, your brother, I am he. Behold, look, gaze as much as you wish." Once she was assured, she gave glory to God and, although she did much to persuade him, she could not convince him to enter the house. After offering prayer on the threshold, he returned to the solitude, making it his own homeland there through his virtue. ^B This miracle is told of him: when he had dug in the place where he lived, he found water that was most bitter, and until he died, he remained there, content with the bitterness of the water, so that the tolerance of this noble man might become known to all. Many monks, however, after his death, although they strove to remain in his cell, could not manage to do it for even one year; for the place is terrifying and devoid of all consolation.

CHAPTER LXXXVIII. Life of Abbot Moses the Libyan.

Moses the Libyan was a man most gentle and endowed with the greatest charity; he was considered worthy of the gift of healing. He told this story: "In the monastery," he said, "I was very young, and I was digging a huge well, twenty feet wide. When eighty of us had been digging it for three days, we had passed the usual vein of water—which is usually seen at about a cubit’s depth—and yet we found no water. We were filled with great distress ^C and were deliberating about abandoning the work. While we were discussing this, Pior arrived from the vast solitude just at the sixth hour of the heat, an old man wearing his sheepskin. After he had greeted us, he said, 'Why have you lost heart, men of little faith? For I saw that you had given up already since yesterday.' When he had said this, he immediately lowered a ladder into the well trench, said a prayer with us, took a mattock, and having struck the ground with it three times, he said: 'God of the patriarchs, do not make the labor of your servants vain and useless, but send them the use of water.' And immediately water gushed out, so that we were all sprinkled by it. And when he had prayed again, he went away, saying, 'It was for this reason that I was sent.' And it was opened." When they forced him to eat there, he could not force his soul to do so, saying: "It is for this that I was sent." These are the admirable things of Pior, that brilliant column of patience; and this is the end of his virtue, that instead of a bitter spring he enjoys a perpetual flow of sweetness with great spiritual joy.

Chapter LXXXIX. Vita abbatis Chronii.

A certain man who was called Chronius, from the village which is called Phoenix, when he had measured fifteen thousand paces with his right foot from his village, which is near the solitude, prayed there and dug a well. When he had found excellent water, which was seven cubits deep, he also built a small hovel for himself there. From the day he settled himself ^D in the monastery, he prayed to God that he would not return to any place that is inhabited. When a few years had passed, he was deemed worthy of the priesthood, with a brotherhood of about two hundred men gathered around him. This, therefore, is reported of his virtue of asceticism: that although he sat for sixty years in the desert as a priest, he never left the desert, nor did he eat bread that was not earned by the labor of his own hands.

CHAPTER XC. Life of Abbot James.

There lived with him a certain Jacob from the neighboring lands, who was nicknamed the Lame, a man endowed with the highest understanding. Both were known to the blessed Anthony.

CHAPTER XCI. Life of Abbot Paphnutius Cephala.

When, therefore, one day Paphnutius, a wonderful man who was called Cephala, had also come, who indeed possessed the gift of understanding the divine Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, interpreting them all even though he had not read the Scriptures—and he was so modest that he would conceal his prophetic power—it is said regarding him that for eighty years he never owned two tunics at once. When we had met with him, I and the blessed deacons Evagrius and Albinus, we sought to learn the causes of the brothers who were failing or slipping into an unseemly life.

CHAPTER XCII. De Cheremone.

For it happened in those days that Cheremon the instructor, while sitting, passed away; he was found dead, still sitting in his chair and holding his work in his hands.

CHAPTER XCIII. Concerning another.

It also happened that another brother, while digging a well, was overwhelmed by the well.

CHAPTER XCIV. De alio.

It also happened that another, coming from Scete, died of thirst for water.

Chapter XCV. De Stephano lapso.

Among whom we have recorded also Stephanus, who fell into shameful intemperance, and Eucarpius, and Heron of Alexandria, and Valens of Palaestina, and Ptolemy the Egyptian who was in Scete.

^A Simultaneously, we asked what the cause might be that, among those who live in solitude, some are mentally deceived, while others break out into intemperance. To this question, they, along with the holy Paphnutius, a man endowed with the greatest knowledge, gave us this answer: Whatever happens is divided into two categories: the pleasure of God, and the permission of God. Whatever is done out of virtue for the glory of God happens by the pleasure of God; but whatever is harmful, dangerous, or brings about misfortunes and accidents, happens by the permission of God. Permission, however, arises from a lack of reason or from the infidelity of those who are forsaken. For it is impossible that he who lives piously and thinks rightly should fall into the lapses of disgrace or the imposture of demons. Whoever, therefore, approaches virtue with a perverse intent and purpose—namely, to please men—and with an arrogant mindset, falls into such accidents, God forsaking them for their own benefit, so that by experiencing a change through this abandonment, they might correct either their intent or their action.

Sometimes, indeed, the intent sins when it is done for a bad purpose; as often happens when one acts with intemperance to give alms to young women for a shameful end, while the action itself is consonant with reason—like providing help to an orphan or a woman who is a dedicated nun. It happens, too, that one may give alms with a right purpose—to the sick, or those who have lost their goods, or those who have grown old—but with reluctance and grumbling; here, the purpose is right, but the action is unworthy of the purpose. For one who is merciful ought to be merciful with cheerfulness and generosity.

He also said this: In many souls there are certain special gifts—in some, a goodness of natural talent; in others, an aptitude for discipline; but when this is done not for the sake of the Good itself and with a divine purpose, neither the action nor the goodness of talent, nor those who possess these special gifts, attributing them not to God the Giver of all good things, but to their own free will, talent, and sufficiency—those who are such, abandoned by providence, fall into shameful deeds, ^B shameful sufferings, and mockeries and disgraces. Forsaken, therefore, through the incoming of humility and shame, they slowly, I know not how, expel the arrogance they had accepted from that which was reputed to be virtue; no longer trusting in themselves, but in God, who bestows all things, they attribute this benefit to their own confession. For he who is puffed up, who is carried away by the goodness of his own talent and does not attribute to God that goodness of talent, nor the knowledge that is supplied to him, but rather to his own discipline or nature, God withdraws from him the angel of providence, who is set over this grace. Once that is turned away, the one who is puffed up by the goodness of his talent, being overcome by the powers of the adversary, falls into intemperance because of his insolence, so that once temperance is removed as a witness, the things said by them do not appear credible, as the pious flee the doctrine that proceeds from such a mouth, as if it were a fountain swarming with leeches, that it might be fulfilled which is written: *But to the sinner God hath said: Why dost thou declare my justices, and take my testament by thy mouth* (Psal. 49)? For the souls of those who labor under vices are truly like to different fountains. For those who are given to gluttony and wine are like muddy fountains; but those who are held by avarice and the desire to possess more are like fountains containing frogs; and those who are envious, who possess an aptitude for knowledge, are like fountains nursing serpents, in which reason is always fluctuating; because no one drinks from them, due to the bitterness of their character or the odor of their unjust actions. Wherefore David asks to be taught three things by God: goodness, and discipline, and knowledge (Psal. 118). For without goodness, knowledge is useless; and if he who is of this sort is corrected, having laid aside the cause of his dereliction—namely, arrogance—and has assumed humility, and knows his own measure, and does not show himself exalted against anyone, and gives thanks to God, he returns again to Him, ^C which knowledge is supported by testimony. For spiritual prayers that do not have an honest and temperate life riding along with them are like ears of corn that perish by the wind, which have indeed the shape of ears, but the nourishment has been snatched away from them.

Every lapse, therefore, whether it happens through the tongue, or through the senses, or through actions, or through the whole body, occurs in proportion to one’s arrogance, through the dereliction of God, who spares those who are forsaken. For if, along with intemperance, the Lord were also to bear witness to their goodness of intellect by supplying eloquence, He would make the demons themselves proud, exalting themselves with filth.

These things also, these holy men and excellent Fathers told us: when you see someone who is perverse in life but apt in persuasion by his speech, remember the demon who speaks with Christ in Holy Scripture, and the testimony he gives: *Now the serpent was more subtle than any of the beasts of the earth* (Gen. 3). To whom prudence brought rather a detriment, since no other virtue accompanied it. For it behooves him who is faithful and good to feel in his heart those things which God gives, but to speak what he feels, and to do what he speaks. For if the kinship of life does not run concurrently with the truth of words, it is bread without salt, as Job says (Job 6); and one who is such will by no means be eaten; and if he should even be eaten, he casts the one who eats him into a bad condition. For if he is eaten, he says, bread without salt, and if there is taste in empty words, this is not for utility, with the testimony of good works fulfilled.

^D There are, therefore, many causes for derelictions: one is that hidden virtue may be manifested, such as the virtue of Job, with God responding and saying (Job 40): *Wilt thou cast aside my judgment, and do not think that I have answered thee otherwise, but that thou mightest appear just; for thou art known to me, who know the hidden things, and look upon the deep thoughts of men.* But since thou art ignored by men, for they sometimes suspect that I am worshipped by thee for the sake of thy riches, I therefore caused thee to fall into such a case. I took away thy riches, so that I might show them thy thanksgiving and philosophy. Another [cause] is for the sake of averting arrogance, as in Paul. For Paul was left to accidents, and to the buffeting of...

^A demons, that I might not be exalted; lest at any time through such miracles, and the ease, and the prosperity, and the honor accrued to him, he be cast into a diabolical pride by the security of God, and permission. Whatever, therefore, happens according to virtue for the glory of God, this comes to pass by the good pleasure of God; but whatever again is harmful, and dangerous, and brings about trials, this comes to pass by the permission of God. And the permission is [a result] of the unreasonableness or unbelief of those who are forsaken. For it is impossible for one who thinks rightly, and lives piously, to be forsaken, and to fall into a stumbling block of shame, or the deception of demons. Those, therefore, who with a corrupt aim, or by a desire for the praise of men, and by the self-will of their own reasoning, seem to pursue virtue, these also fall into mistakes, God forsaking them as regards their corrupted aim, so that, perceiving through this abandonment the change that comes from their deviation, they may correct either their intent or their action; for sometimes the intent errs, and sometimes the action: when [it is done] with a corrupt aim, or not in the manner permitted ^B by necessity. Which happens many times, and even the licentious man, with a corrupt aim, does alms for the sake of base ends. But to do this as a reasonable action—to give relief to the orphaned, and the lonely, and those engaged in asceticism—is right. It happens, however, even with a right aim, to do alms for the sick, the aged, or those fallen from wealth; yet grudgingly, and with murmuring: and thus the aim is indeed right, but the action is unworthy of the aim. For the merciful man must be merciful with cheerfulness, and with generosity. The holy men said also this: that there are superiorities in many souls; in some, a clarity of mind, in others, an aptitude for asceticism. But when this is not done for the sake of the good itself, nor according to a divine aim, neither is the action from a superior quality, nor does the clarity of mind, nor do those who possess a reputation for eloquence, attribute the grace to God, the giver of good things, but to their own choice, and propensity, and ability; and these, having been forsaken by Providence, fall into shameful deeds, or disgraceful passions and shame. Being forsaken, therefore, through the humility and ^C dishonor that comes upon them, they quietly and little by little wipe away the pride they have in their supposed virtue, no longer trusting in themselves but attributing all grace to God, who grants all things. For because the one puffed up by a flow of words, becoming arrogant, no longer attributes to God the gift of talent, nor the administration of knowledge, but to his own asceticism, or nature, God removes the angel of Providence who is appointed over this grace; and upon his departure, being overpowered by the adversary, the one exalted in talent falls into licentiousness, so that the bestial, or dog-like licentiousness may drive out the demonic puffing up—which is pride; so that, the witness of temperance being taken away, their words may not be held trustworthy; the pious avoiding the teaching from such a mouth, as a fountain having a leech in it; so that the written word may be fulfilled: "But unto the sinner God said: Why dost thou tell my righteousness, and takest thou my covenant in thy mouth?" For the souls of those having passions are truly like various fountains; the gluttons and drunkards like muddy fountains, and the covetous and greedy like fountains containing frogs. Yet those who are malicious and proud, while having an aptitude for knowledge, are like fountains ^D of pond water, which smells in a marsh, from which no one drinks with pleasure, on account of the bitterness of the disposition, and the odor of impure actions. Whence David prayed, asking for three gifts to be taught by God: goodness, and discipline, and knowledge. For without goodness, knowledge is useless. And if such a one be corrected, putting away the cause of the abandoning, that is, pride, and takes up humility, and recognizes the measures of himself, not being puffed up against any, but also returning thanks to God, knowledge with a witness returns to him again. For spiritual words, not having a grave and temperate life riding along with them, are stalks blighted by the wind, having the shape of stalks, but having had the nourishment of Demeter stolen away. Every fall, therefore, whether through the tongue, or through vision, or hearing, or smell, or action, or through the whole body, according to the proportion of pride or conceit, happens as an abandonment of God, sparing those who are being forsaken. For if the Lord were to bear witness with talent and eloquence even after licentiousness, He would render them [as] demons, exalted in pride along with impurity. And these things, these holy men and the best of the Fathers said to us: "When you see, they say, a man grievous in life, yet persuasive in words, remember the demon in the Gospel communing with the Lord, and the testimony of the Scripture which says: 'And the serpent was the most prudent of all the beasts upon the earth'; to whom the prudence has become rather for his harm, no other virtue accompanying him. For the believer and good man must think what God gives, and speak what he thinks, and do what he speaks. For if the virtue of life does not run together with the truth of the words, and the rest of the nobility of good character, it is bread without salt, according to the blessed Job. And such a one will not be eaten; who even if he be eaten, casts the eater into a great sickness. For if, he says, bread can be eaten without salt? But if there is also taste in empty words—that is, those not filled with the testimony of good works for utility. The causes of the abandonments, therefore, are various. For one occurs for the sake of hidden virtue, that it might be manifested, as in that great athlete of patience, Job, God testifying to him and saying: "Do not reject my judgment; nor think that I have dealt with you otherwise, but that thou mightest appear just. For thou wast known to me from the beginning, who sees the hidden things, and looks into the depths of human reasoning. But because such good deeds of thine were unknown to men, the foolish suspecting that thou wast serving me for the sake of wealth, having brought about such a trial, I stripped away the wealth, that I might show them thy thanksgiving and philosophy. Another [cause] is for the sake of averting arrogance and avoiding conceit or boasting; as in the case of the blessed apostle Paul one may see. For he too was abandoned, being left to accidents, and buffeting, and being struck by various failings. Wherefore he also said: "There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to buffet me, that I should not be exalted; lest at any time through such miracles, and the relief, and the prosperity, and the honor accrued to him, he be cast into a diabolical pride by the security of

those who are abandoned and caused to fall into these things.

Chapter XLVI. Concerning Solomon.

Having spent four years in Antinoopolis in the Thebaid, in that time I gained knowledge of all the monasteries there. For there sit around the city about twelve hundred men, living by their hands, and practicing virtue to the highest degree. Among these are also ascetics who have enclosed themselves in the caves of the rocks. Among them is a certain Solomon, an ascetic, a man most meek and temperate, possessing the gift of patience; who said he had spent his fiftieth year in the cave, having provided for himself from the works of his hands, and having learned the whole Holy Scripture.

Chapter XLVII. Concerning Dorotheus.

Dorotheus, a presbyter dwelling in another cave, was excessively good, and he himself having lived a blameless life, was deemed worthy of the presbyterate, and served the brethren who were in the caves. To this man, who was a lover of poverty in his manner of life, Melania the Younger, the granddaughter of the great Melania, of whom I shall speak later, sent five hundred coins, begging him to distribute them to the brethren there. But he, taking three coins, sent the rest to Diocles the ascetic, a man most discerning, saying that the brother Diocles is wiser than I, and can manage them without harm, knowing better than I who are the ones rightfully deserving of help. For I am content with these.

Chapter XLVIII. Concerning Diocles.

This Diocles, having been led from the study of grammar at first, but later having given himself to philosophy, in the time of grace was drawn to the heavenly philosophy; thus, in his twenty-eighth year of age, he renounced the secular systems, and devoted himself to the heavenly teachings of Christ. And he also had spent thirty-five years in the caves. This man said to us: "The intellect, having departed from the contemplation of God as a concept, becomes either a demon or a beast." And when we asked him how he meant this, he said thus, that the intellect of a man, having departed from the contemplation of God, of necessity falls into the demon of desire, which leads to licentiousness, or falls into the wicked, irascible spirit, from which irrational impulses are born. And he said that the licentious desire is beastly, and the anger is a demonic motion. And when I objected, saying, "How is it possible for a human intellect to be with God without intermission?" he said this: "In whatever thought or deed the soul happens to be, if it is only in pious and divine reflection, it is with God."

Chapter XLIX. Concerning Capito.

Near this most noble athlete there dwelt a certain Capito, a monk who had been a brigand, and was most proven. This man, having completed fifty years in the caves, four miles from the city of Antinoopolis, never came down from his own cave, nor even to the river Nile, saying that he was not yet able to associate with the crowds, because the adversary was still at that time warring against him.

Chapter L. Concerning the Vain Ascetic.

Near these we saw another ascetic, living likewise in the caves. This man, being mocked by the goad of vainglory through dreams, himself mocked those who came to him and were deceived. Being a fool, according to what is written, he was made flippant by dreams, herding winds and chasing shadows. He possessed bodily temperance; but because of his old age and long time, and perhaps also because of his vainglory, he lost his mental faculties regarding virtue, corrupted by impure vainglory, and was shipwrecked from the religious manner of life because of it.

Chapter LI. Concerning Ephrem.

You have certainly heard the accounts of Ephrem, the deacon of the Church of the Edessenes. For this man became worthy of being remembered by the holy servants of Christ. This man, having worthily finished the path of the Holy Spirit, and having not at all turned from the straight road, was deemed worthy of the gift of natural knowledge, which is followed by theology and ultimate blessedness. Having, therefore, practiced the life of silence to the highest degree, and always building up those who came to him over many years, he later came out of his cell for the following reason: A great famine having overtaken the city of the Edessenes, and this godly man having compassion on all the common folk perishing, he approached the wealthy in the town, and says to them: "Why then do you pity the perishing human nature, yet let your wealth rot to the condemnation of your souls?" They, pretending a plausible excuse, say to the saint, "We have no one to trust in to minister bread to those who are starving. For all are trafficking in goods." This virtuous man says to them, "What do you think of me? What do you think of me?" They said, "We know you to be a man of God; but truth is a friend." He commanded great respect among all, not falsely, but truly. The servant of Christ says to them, "If you think thus of my concerns, entrust to me the care of those who are starving." The haughty ones say to him, "Would that you might be deemed worthy." Ephrem, the elect of God, answers them: "Lo, from today on, for your sake, I appoint myself a host to the needy"; and having received money from them, and having partitioned the porticos, and having set up about three hundred beds, he nursed the weaker ones, and provided for those starving. And those who were...

and tossed by various afflictions, and said: "There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, to buffet me, lest I should be exalted" (II Cor. XII); lest perhaps, when quiet and success in affairs and honor accrued to him alongside miracles, he might be cast into diabolical arrogance, puffed up with pride. A paralytic was also abandoned on account of sin, to whom the Lord said: "Behold, thou art made whole: sin no more" (John V). Judas was also abandoned, who had valued money more than the Word of Life; for which reason he was even choked (Acts I). Esau was also abandoned, and fell into intemperance, inasmuch as he preferred the dung of the bowels to the paternal blessing (Gen. XXVII); so much so that, when the blessed apostle Paul had sensed all these things, he said of some: "And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient" (Rom. I). But concerning others who seemed to have the knowledge of God with a corrupt mind and empty tumor, he says: "Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful, but God gave them up to vile affections"; so that we may know from this that it cannot happen that anyone falls into intemperance unless he has been abandoned by the providence of God, on account of the negligence and sloth of those who are abandoned and deserted to the end that these things might happen to them.

CHAPTER XCVI. The Life of Abbot Solomon.

CHAPTER XCVII. The Life of Abbot Dorotheus.

CHAPTER XCVIII. The Life of Abbot Diocles.

CHAPTER XCIX. The Life of Abbot Capito.

CHAPTER C. The Life of the Anchorite who was mocked.

CHAPTER CI. The Life of Saint Ephrem the Deacon.

servant of God. "If you have formed such an opinion of me," said the servant of Christ, "believe me hereafter. Behold, I choose you to be the receiver of my guests." And when he had received the money, and had built a wall of partition in the valley, and had set up three hundred beds, he cared for those who were more infirm, and provided for those who were being worn away by famine: burying those who failed, but caring for those who had hope of life; and, to say it once, he provided hospitality and service daily for them out of such things as were supplied because of the famine. When the year was completed, and fertility had succeeded, and all things were going well, having nothing more to do, he entered his cell; and after a month he died, since God had offered him this opportunity to obtain a crown in his final days. He also left behind writings worthy of study, which bear witness to the magnitude of the man's virtue. ^A in his own martyrdom, which he himself had built, in which the relics of John the Baptist were; and when he had prayed for him from the third hour until the ninth hour, he restored the youth sound to his mother, and on the same day he expelled both the paralysis and the demon. Such was his paralysis, that as the boy spat, he would spit upon his own back; so twisted was he. Another sign of his was this. A certain old woman who was pasturing sheep in the places near the Lazarium, and had lost a sheep, approached him weeping; he followed her and said to her, "Show me the place where you lost it." She led him to the places which are around the Lazarium. Standing there, he prayed. But those youths who had stolen it had already killed it. While he was praying, with no one confessing, the meat being hidden in a vineyard, a raven coming from elsewhere stood over the theft, and snatched a piece from it, and flew away again. When the blessed man had noticed this, he saw the slaughtered victim. And so the youths, falling at his feet, confessed that they had killed it, and the just price was exacted from them; and they were thus chastened, so that they dared not do anything of the kind again.

CHAPTER CII. Vita abbatis Juliani.

I heard from someone in those parts that there was a certain Julian, a man of the greatest exercise, who, since he had afflicted his flesh beyond measure, carried nothing but bones and skin. In the final days of his life, he was deemed worthy of the grace of healings.

Chapter CIII. Life of the blessed Innocent.

Of the blessed priest Innocent of the Olivet, you have heard from many and great ones indeed; but nonetheless you shall also hear from us, who lived with him for three years. For the things that often escaped others became known to us; nor could one or another, nor even ten, recount the virtues of this man. He was the most simple by far. When he had been illustrious in the palace under the Emperor Constantius (150) in the beginning of his reign, he renounced the world, having departed from marriage: in which he also had a son, Paulus by name, who served among the domestics (151). When he had sinned against the daughter of a priest, Innocent prayed over his own son, beseeching God and saying: "Lord, give him a spirit, so that his flesh may no longer find time for sinning," judging it better that he wrestle with a demon than with intemperance. Which also came to pass: for even now he is still on the Mount of Olives, wearing iron, and chastened by the spirit; and what is wonderful, his father, who heals others, has not had mercy on him, who is for so long a time tormented by a demon. This Innocent ^D was so merciful (perhaps, however, I shall seem to be babbling while I tell the truth), that he was often robbed by the brethren, and he gave to the needy. He was, moreover, exceedingly simple and innocent. He was deemed worthy of the gift against demons: and a youth, whom a spirit and paralysis had invaded, was one time brought to him while we were watching, so that when I had seen him, I wished to drive the mother away openly, along with those by whom he had been brought, despairing that he could be cured. But it happened that as the old man came, he saw her standing by, weeping and wailing because of the inexpressible calamity of her son. The noble old man therefore wept, and moved in his bowels, he took the youth and entered

CHAPTER CIV. Life of Abbot Adolius.

Again I knew of a certain man in Jerusalem, Adolius by name, of the race of Tarsus: who, when he had come to Jerusalem, entered a path little trodden (152), not the one which many have entered, but a new institute of life chosen for himself. For he exercised himself beyond human capacity; so that even the wicked demons themselves, fearing his austerity, did not dare even to approach him. By reason, however, of his extreme exercise and vigil, he was thought to be a specter. For in Lent he ate after five days, but in all the rest of the time, with one day intervening. But this was the great achievement of his virtue. From evening until that time when the brotherhood was gathered in the oratories, on the Olivet, on the Hill of the Ascension from whence Jesus ascended, he stood perpetually singing psalms, and praying, and fasting; and whether it rained or hailed, he remained motionless. When the accustomed time was completed, he struck the cells of all with an alarm-mallet, gathering them to the oratories, and in each oratory praying and singing with them one or two antiphons; and thus, as the day approached, he would go into his cell, and indeed, as the brethren would take his clothes off and wring them out, they would put other ones on him, for they were dripping just as if they had been washed. And when he had rested until the third hour, prompted by the psalmody, he was intent upon it until the evening. This, therefore, is the virtue of Adolius of Tarsus, who, having been perfected in Jerusalem, there slept his eternal sleep and was buried.

CHAPTER CV. De Abramio (153).

There was a certain Abramius, by race an Egyptian, who led a most harsh and very boorish life in the solitude. He, wounded in mind by untimely persuasion, coming to the church, argued with the priests, saying: "I was ordained a priest by Christ at night; receive me as a priest." When the fathers had led him away from the solitude, and had led him to a more coarse life

^A burying the dead, feeding those who had hope of life, and tending the sick, and in short providing for all who came to him due to the famine, by means of hospitality and service every day from what was provided to him. After the year had passed, and abundance had returned and everyone was going home, this man of blessed memory, having nothing left to do, returned to his own cell and went inside, and after a month fell asleep, inheriting the blessed land of the meek in addition to his other achievements. And God having granted him this service in his final days for the sake of higher crowns through his manner of gentleness. This most approved man also left behind writings, of which most are worthy of zeal, bearing witness to the great virtue of the man.

Chapter 102: Concerning Julian

Chapter 103: Concerning Innocentius

Chapter 104: Concerning Adolius

Chapter 105: Concerning Abramius

^A an Egyptian, who lived a most austere and holy life in the desert. His mind was struck by a fit of extreme pride; he came to the church and contended with the priests, saying: "I too have been ordained priest this very night by Christ, and you ought to receive me as one about to perform the priestly office." The holy Fathers, having separated him from the desert and led him to a grosser and more varied life, cured him of his pride, and having brought him to the knowledge of his own weakness, showed him that he had been mocked by the demon of pride; and by their holy prayers they restored him to the former virtue of his life.

Chapter 106: Concerning Elpidius

I also saw another man worthy of mention in the caves near Jericho, which were originally of the Amorites, which they had hewn out fleeing when they were being sacked by Joshua the son of Nun, so as to hide in them near the mountain of Lucas; Elpidius by name, a Cappadocian by birth, who was later deemed worthy of the priesthood, having become a monk there under Timothy, the chorepiscopus of Cappadocia, a man of great competence. This man came and dwelt in one of the caves, and showed such restraint in his asceticism as to eclipse all others. For having lived twenty-five years, he partook of food only on Saturdays and Sundays. All the nights he stood and sang psalms, like the king of the bees, and having dwelt in the midst of the brotherhood, he colonized that mountain, and one could see there henceforth diverse modes of the ascetic life for each one. This Elpidius, who truly rejoiced in hope and endured distress for Christ’s sake, while he was singing at night, with us singing along with him, a scorpion struck him; he stepped on it, and did not even change his posture, so much did he disregard the pain caused by the scorpion in his patience. One day, again, when a brother was holding a cutting of a vine, the blessed man took it while sitting by the bank of the mountain and planted it as if he were sowing, even though he planted it out of season. It grew so much and became a vine that it shaded the entire church.

Chapter 107: Life of Abbot Ænesius

Along with this holy athlete of Christ, there was perfected also the celebrated servant of God, Ænesius, a man of note, who excelled in asceticism.

Chapter 108: Life of Abbot Eustathius

And Eustathius, a brother of his of equal honor, also diligently completed the struggles of the life in Christ. Now the blessed Elpidius had driven out passion to such a degree, having embalmed his body, that the whole structure of his bones could be seen through. There is also reported in the accounts of his virtue by his diligent disciples, that in twenty-five whole years, he never turned toward the west—even though the door of the cave was situated facing the height of the mountain—nor did he see the sun, once it had passed over his head, ever decline toward the west, nor did he ever behold the stars rising in the west during those twenty-five years. This great ^B athlete of endurance, from the time that he entered into the cave, never descended from the mountain until he was buried. Such were the heavenly feats of the crown-bearing and invincible combatant Elpidius, who now dwells in paradise with his peers.

Chapter 109: Concerning Sisinnius

A disciple of this immortal Elpidius was Sisinnius by name, who came from a servile condition, but was free in faith, and by birth a Cappadocian. For it is necessary to indicate even races, to the glory of Christ who ennobles us, and who leads us to the blessed and true nobility towards the kingdom of heaven. So, having spent time with the blessed Elpidius—this ardent lover of the virtues of asceticism—for six or even seven years, and having learned the man’s virtues and the endurance of the toils of asceticism, he later shut himself up in a tomb. For three years he remained standing in the tomb and continued in prayers, neither by night nor by day sitting, lying down, or walking outside. He was deemed worthy of the gift against demons. Now, having returned to his homeland, he was deemed worthy of the priesthood, having gathered a fraternity of both men and women; by the testimony of his dispassion through his venerable conduct, having driven out his own masculine desire and having bridled the feminine desire of the women by restraint, so that the written word might be fulfilled: "In Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female." He is also hospitable to an extraordinary degree, even though he is without possessions, to the rebuke of the uncharitable wealthy.

Chapter 110: Concerning Gaddana

I knew a certain old man, a Palestinian, Gaddana by name, who lived a homeless life for all the time of his life in the regions around the Jordan. Once, Jews, out of zeal, set upon this blessed hermit in the regions near the Dead Sea. Having bared their swords, they approached him. And a miracle of this kind happened: at the moment they raised the sword and wished to draw it to perpetrate destruction upon Gaddana, the hand of him who held the sword withered; and it fell from him without his feeling it. This help from God became an ally to the holy Gaddana, and this remained the virtue of the blessed man until the end of his life.

Chapter 111: Concerning Elias

Elias, also by name, an excellent monk in the same regions, dwelt in a cave, being of a most venerable and lawful life, and he applied himself to restraint and prayer, hospitably receiving all who arrived. One of the days, when many ^C brothers had come to him (for there was a thoroughfare through him), the bread ran out; and he swore to us that, "I nearly fainted from the lack of food." Entering the cell very sorrowful as to how I might fulfill the measure of love for those who had come to me, I found three large fresh loaves lying there, which I took and joyfully set before them. And when twenty men had eaten their fill, one loaf was still left over. I therefore took this and used it for twenty-five days. This grace was with the hospitable Elias, whose rewards for his labors are in store with the man-loving Master.

and more indifferent, they cured him of pride, ^A leading him to the knowledge of his own weakness, for he had been deluded by the demon of pride; and by their holy prayers, they restored him to the original sanctity of his life.

CHAPTER CVI. Vita abbatis Elpidii.

In the caves of the Amorites which are in Jericho, which long ago those who were fleeing from Joshua the son of Nun had constructed—at which time he was ravaging the foreigners—there was on Mount Luca a certain Elpidius, a Cappadocian by birth who was later honored with the priesthood of the monastery that is there, having been ordained by Timothy, the chorepiscopus of Cappadocia, a most capable man. He lived in a certain cave, and showed such continence in his ascetic exercises that he eclipsed everyone. For he lived twenty-five years, eating only on Sabbaths and Sundays; and while standing, he would sing through the entire nights. As bees follow their king, so did an innumerable multitude of brothers follow him, and they built up that mountain; and one was able to see there, in each individual, diverse modes of ascetic practice. One day, while we were singing the psalms with this Elpidius—and he was truly Elpidius, for he truly rejoiced in hope and for the sake of Christ endured affliction—a scorpion stung him; but when he had crushed it while standing, he did not change his posture; with such tolerance did he take no account of the pain which the scorpion inflicted. Furthermore, when one day a certain brother was holding a piece of a vine branch, the saint took it while he was sitting on the edge of the mountain, and thrust it in as if planting it, even though it was not the season; and it grew to such a degree, and became so large a vine, that it covered the whole church.

CHAPTER CVII. Life of Abbot Aenesius.

With this holy athlete of God there also served the renowned servant of God, Ænesius, a man of great reputation and who was distinguished in ascetic exercise.

CHAPTER CVIII. Life of Abbot Eustathius.

And his brother Eustathius was his equal in honor, exerting himself in the struggles of the ascetic life with a ready and eager spirit. ^B

Chapter CIX. Vita abbatis Sisinnii.

His disciple was Sisinnius by name, who came forth indeed from a servile condition, but was free by faith, a Cappadocian by birth. For it is fitting to signify lineage also for the glory of Christ, who renders us illustrious in lineage and leads us to blessed and true nobility, namely, the kingdom of heaven. This man, having been for a long time with blessed Elpidius, a keen athlete of the exercise of virtues—as one who had learned for six or seven years the virtues of the man and the fortitude of labors in asceticism—later shut himself up in a tomb. Being established in it for three years, he persevered in prayers, neither by night nor by day sitting, nor reclining, nor going abroad. He attained grace against demons. And now, having returned to his homeland, he was deemed worthy of the priesthood; a brotherhood of men and women was gathered by him, giving testimony of dispassion through an honest manner of life, and having expelled their own masculine desire, and with their feminine softness constrained by continence, so that what is written is fulfilled: In Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female; there is neither slave nor free (Galat. III, 28). He is also notably hospitable, even though he lacks possessions, to the reproach of the rich who share nothing at all.

Chapter CX. The life of Abbot Gaddana.

I knew a certain old man, a Palestinian by birth, Gaddana by name, who lived all the time of his life without a roof; he lived, however, around the Jordan. When the Jews, moved by envy, attacked this blessed hermit in the places which are around the Dead Sea and invaded him with drawn sword, it happened that such a miracle occurred. While he was raising his sword and wished to bring about the death of Gaddana, the hand of him who held the sword withered, and it fell to him in such a way that he did not feel it. This help was brought from God to the blessed Gaddana, and this was the manner of life of the blessed man until the end of his life.

CHAPTER CXI. Life of Abbot Elias.

Again, a certain Elias, a most approved monk, lived in the same places in a cave; and since he was of a most honest life and in the first rank of the religious, he occupied himself with continence and prayer, kindly receiving all who arrived. Therefore, on a certain day when several brothers had come to him—for they had to pass through that place—their bread ran out; and swearing to us he affirmed, saying: "I am nearly dead from the lack of food." Having entered his cell, therefore, consumed by sadness of spirit because I did not know how I could fulfill, according to my strength, the measure of charity toward those who had arrived, I found three fresh loaves placed there, which I gladly took and set before them. And when twenty men had eaten to satiety, one loaf remained. But when I had taken it up, I lived on it for twenty-five days. This grace of the Lord was bestowed upon the hospitable Elias, whose rewards for his labors are prepared with the benign Lord.

CHAPTER CXII. Concerning Sabbatius.

A certain secular person named Sabbatius, by descent a Jerichuntine, who had a wife, loved the monks so much for the fear of God that he himself would go about visiting the cells and all the wilderness by night, and in every monastery he would place outside a modius of dates and as much oil as was sufficient, because those who are the ascetics in the Jordan do not eat bread. To this steward of the monks, and provider of a convenient table for the continent, when one day he had brought things necessary for the exercise of the holy men, a lion met him through the malice of the evil one, the enemy of the monks inciting the savage beast against the servant of the monks, desiring to deprive both them of their sustenance and him of his purpose. And when the beast had seized him, he pushed it away with the stone of one of the monks and threw it down with his claws. But He who taught the lions in the time of Daniel to fast, forbade the lion to devour him who kept the commandments, even though it was very hungry. Wherefore it came about that, having taken the old man's donkey, it departed; for He who had granted life to this man, stilled the hunger of the beast as well.

CHAPTER CXIII. Concerning Philoromus the presbyter.

We met the most religious and God-loving presbyter Philoromus in Galatia, and we associated with him for a long time; he was a man of great exercise. He was born indeed of a servant mother, but a free father. Yet he showed such nobility of virtues in his instruction of the Christian life that even those who are unsurpassable in birth respected his life as equal to the angels, and the effective power of his exercise. He renounced the world in the days of the execrable emperor Julian, and this generous athlete of Christ, Philoromus, spoke freely with that impious man, who ordered him to be shaved and most severely beaten by boys. He, however, bore the matter courageously and patiently, and gave thanks to him, as he himself told us. In the beginning, the war of fornication and gluttony attacked this illustrious man, as he used to say, which sickness/tyranny he so overcame, as if one were extinguishing a vast conflagration with much water: with the greatest care of continence, by wearing iron, and by shutting himself up, and by abstaining from food and leavened bread, and to say it once, from all cooked things, and in these he behaved himself courageously and persevered for eighteen years. When he had conquered this, he was able to sing the hymn of victory, saying thus: "I will exalt thee, O Lord, for thou hast lifted me up and hast not made my enemies to rejoice over me" (Ps. XXIX). Here, being attacked in various ways by the spirit of fornication, he persisted for forty years in the monastery. But he used to relate, saying: "For thirty and two years I did not touch any fruit." But when, he said, timidity had attacked me most of all, so that I was even afraid during the day, I shut myself up for six years in a tomb; and by that reason I escaped superior, waging an unbearable war with the spirit that was imposing this servitude upon me. The blessed Bishop Basil took great care of this distinguished man, for he delighted in his austerity, constancy, and diligence in work.

CHAPTER CXIV. The life of the blessed Severianus and his wife.

In Ancyra of Galatia, in that very place, it happened that I spoke with a certain Severianus, one of the courtiers, together with his wife Bosphoria, though I did not have great experience of them. They indeed were filled with much good hope, and disregarded their own children, truly looking toward the future. For they spent the revenues of their own estates on the needy, having four sons and two daughters, to whom they gave no possession, except to those who had married. But they said to their remaining children: "After our departure all things are yours; but as long as we are alive, we shall gather the fruits of our possessions, distributing them to churches, and monasteries, and hospices, and to all the needy, whose prayers will gain for you and for us and for the children eternal life in place of this temporary and labored life" (Eccli. XXI, 6). Among which this also is of their excellent virtue. When there was a great famine, which pervaded the bowels of all men, they then brought over those who were then heretics to the right opinion. For when they had opened their own barns on many estates, they offered them for the food of the poor; so that from this inexplicable kindness of theirs, those who were of heretical opinion came together into one harmony of the right faith, giving thanks to God for their simple faith and immense beneficence. Another of their exercises was admirable; their manner of dress was most venerable and frugal; and there was in them a great and unspeakable simplicity of diet; their expenses were very modest, content with such frugality of food as life required; exercising piety toward God in an admirable way; living in the fields for most of the time, always fleeing the cities and the vices that arise from them, lest they attract civil tumults from the pleasant conversation with the crowd and fall away from the purpose of God. On account of all these deeds of the right life of these blessed ones, hence now

CAPITULUM CXII. On Sabbatius.

Sabbatius, a secular by name, of the race of the Jerichoites, having a wife, became so great a lover of the monastic life out of the fear of God, that he would make the rounds of the cells and the entire desert by night. And at each monastery he would secretly leave outside a modius of dates and enough vegetables, so that the ascetics along the Jordan might not have to eat bread. Now, it happened one day that this man, who was a benefactor to the monks and a generous provider for the ascetics, while bringing the necessities of ascetic life to the holy ones, was met by a lion, the enemy of the monks having ^A stirred up the wild beast against their deacon, striving to deprive them of their rest and him of his purpose. And when the beast caught him through a sign from one of the monks, it shoved him with its own paw and knocked him down. But He who taught the lions to fast under Daniel restrained even this one too from the feast of the man-eater, hungering fiercely as the lion was. From which the elder having taken the donkey, departed. For He who granted life to him, also consoled the hunger of the beast.

CAPITULUM CXIII. On Philoromus.

We met in Galatia and passed a long time with the most God-loving priest Philoromus, a man most ascetic and most steadfast. He had set out from a bondwoman mother, but a free father. Yet so great a virtuous nobility did he show in his conduct according to Christ, that even those who were unconquered in lineage revered his angelic life and his active virtue of asceticism. This man renounced the world in the days of Julian the maledict king, and he, the brave athlete of Christ, Philoromus, spoke with boldness to this godless man; who ordered him to be shaven and to be whipped most intensely by boys. He, having endured the ordeal, gave thanks to him, as he himself told us. To this brave man there beset him at the beginning the war of fornication and of gluttony, as he said; which he drove out, having Tyrannized the passion, just as if one had extinguished an immense wildfire with violent water by the boundary of extreme self-control, and the wearing of iron, and by confinement, and by abstinence from foods and leavened bread, and in a word from all things cooked by fire, having persevered in these things for eighteen years. He who overcame these unruly passions sang the victory hymn to Christ: “I will exalt Thee, O Lord, for Thou hast taken me up, and hast not gladdened my enemies over me” (Ps. XXIX, 1). This man, having been variously warred against by the spirits of wickedness, ^B persevered in one monastery for forty years. And he related that, “For thirty-two years I did not touch any fruit. And once," he says, "when cowardice warred against me to the extreme, so that I even became fearful of the day itself, in order to overcome this, I confined myself in a tomb for six years.” And he overcame this, having fought the battle hand-to-hand against the spirit that was bringing cowardice upon him. The blessed Basil, bishop of Caesarea, cared greatly for this man of high repute, being delighted by his austerity, and his harshness, and his diligence of work; who even now, though leading about his eightieth year, does not refrain from the reed and the parchment for writing. This blessed man said that from the time he was initiated and reborn of water and Spirit, he had not eaten, down to this day, bread belonging to another gratis from anyone, but from his own labors; and he persuaded us before God that he had given two hundred and fifty nomismata from the fruit of his own hands to the crippled, having wronged no one ever. He also went on foot as far as Rome itself, to pray at the most holy monument of the blessed and holy apostles of Christ, Peter and Paul. He arrived even at Alexandria, to pray at the monument of the noble athlete Mark. "I was deemed worthy," he said, "for the sake of prayer, to go a second time to Jerusalem to honor the holy sites on foot, and having sufficed for myself with my own expenses." He himself told us this, for the sake of our being profited, saying: "I do not remember ever departing even in thought from my God." These are the struggles of the blessed Philoromus, and in these is the invincible victory; and to him has been rendered the end of the blessed labors, the amaranthine crown of glory.

CAPITULUM CXIV. On Severianus.

In Ancyra of Galatia, in that very city, we met ^C a certain Severianus, a most brilliant man from the order of counts, together with his free wife Bosporia; of whom we also had a small experience; who were filled with such good hopes, such that they regarded even their own children as strangers, viewing by deed the things to come. For they spend the revenues of their estates upon those in need, having four sons and two daughters, to whom they gave not even a property, except to those who had married; saying to the rest of the children, “After our death all things are yours, but while we remain, we shall collect the fruits of the properties, distributing them to churches, and monasteries, and hospices, and to all those in need; whose prayers will provide you and us, O children, with eternal life instead of this present and laborious one.” And this also became a virtuous thing for them: when a great famine occurred, and it was moving the bowels of all men, then they opened their storehouses of grain and provided them for the nutrition of the starving. As out of their ineffable philanthropy they came together into one harmony of the true faith, glorifying God for the simple faith and measureless generosity of these. And the other ascetic practice of theirs was wonderful, a manner most modest to the extreme, with a poverty of clothing and an unexpressiveness and humbleness among them ^D that was great. They were very sparing, content with a frugality of food as much as life requires, practicing the self-control toward God in a supernatural way; residing for the most part of their time in the fields, most gladly conversing rather with stillness, always fleeing the cities and the evils born from them, lest by the pleasant conversation with the crowd they drag some of the

^A disturbances of political life, falling short of their divine purpose. For this reason, all the virtuous achievements of these blessed ones are even now visible to the intuitive eyes as the eternal goods prepared for them by the glory of God.

CHAPTER CXV. On the merciful monk.

Likewise, in this same city, we found a monk who had not accepted the ordination of the presbytery, having been led away from military service a short time before. He was in his twentieth year of asceticism and followed this manner of life. He stayed with the bishop of the city, a most holy man. And he was so philanthropic and merciful that he would go around the cities and show mercy to those in need. He did not neglect the prison, nor the hospital, nor the poorhouse, nor the rich, nor the poor, but assisted everyone, providing to the rich words of compassion and mercy, as to those who were heartless and unmerciful; while for the needy, he cared for each one's needs, reconciling those who were quarreling, providing clothing to the naked, and remedies for healing to the sick. And as is the custom in all large cities, it was so in this one as well. For in the porch of the church, a multitude of the poor ^B lay, collecting their daily food, some of them unmarried, some married. It happened, then, one night that the wife of one of these gave birth in the porch, and this in winter. As she was crying out and being pierced by that unbearable pain, this blessed man, who was praying in the church, heard the shrieking, and leaving behind his customary prayers, he went out and looked, and finding no one there to assist in that necessity, he himself took the place of a midwife, not loathing the filth that accompanies women in labor, the insensibility being granted to him by the most profound mercy which had been done by him. The appearance of the clothes he wore was not worth an obol. But the food for his clothes was a matter of dispute; he could not endure to pore over a book, as his philanthropy drew him away from his reading. If any of the brothers gifted him a book, he would immediately sell it and distribute the proceeds to the needy, saying to those who asked him why he sold it, "How could I persuade my Teacher that I have learned His craft accurately, if I do not use it for the performance of that craft?" This immortal man, having remained in this practice up to the present, left behind a name of ever-blooming memory to all that neighborhood, while he himself enjoys eternal joy in the kingdom of heaven; receiving the worthy rewards for his blessed labors; having fed the hungry here, and having gifted coverings to the naked, he now enjoys varied delights at the hand of the Rewarder of good works.

CHAPTER CXVI. Life of Abba Besarion.

There was a certain elder, destitute and merciful, ^A Besarion by name. Having come down to a certain village, he saw a naked beggar dead in the marketplace. He himself was wearing one tunic, according to the evangelical tradition, and a small cloak; for he possessed nothing except this necessary covering. He also always kept a small Gospel under his arm, for the sake of rebuking himself to obey the Master's voice at all times, or rather for carrying with him the Word accomplished in deed. For the man had used such an excess of life that, unashamedly, as a terrestrial angel, he traversed the heavenly path in the Law. This man, then, having observed the corpse, deftly stripped off his cloak and draped it over the dead man. And having walked a little further, he met a naked man in need; and being perplexed, he stood ^B reasoning with himself thus: "How, when I have renounced the world, am I wearing a garment, while my brother is freezing to death? If, therefore, I allow him to collapse, I shall certainly be the cause of death to my neighbor. What then? Shall I undress and divide it, having cut the tunic, or shall I give the whole thing to the one who is in the image of God? But what is useful to me or to him if the part is torn?" And he reasoned and said, "Is it not some harm to us if we do more than the commandment?" Therefore, this brave man fought the struggle, readily calling the beggar to the gateway, and having sent him away clothed, he stood naked, covering himself with his hands, crouching and sitting down, having only the profit-making Word under his arm. But by divine arrangement, the governor of the peace passed by and recognized the elder, and said to the ally who was next to him, "Look, is that not the elder Abba Besarion?" And when he said, "Yes," he descended from his mount quickly and asked the holy man, "Who stripped you?" He, holding the Gospel in his right hand, said, "This one stripped me." And immediately the governor of the peace stripped off his own cloak and clothed the perfect soldier. And having impassibly worn that as small clothing of the monks, he departed from the world, invisible, having observed his way of life, avoiding praise, awaiting the honor from the Hidden One, as he hides himself. This same man, after having accomplished every gospel commandment, and no longer having anything of this world in his mind, for a more complete working of the divine decision, having seen a beggar in passing, went quickly to the marketplace, where he stood for a little while and sold a volume of the Gospel. Therefore, some days later, the disciple who was with him, named Dulas, asked the elder, saying, "What has become of the little book, Abba?" To whom with quietness the elder spoke a very solemn and most graceful word, saying thus: "Do not be sad, brother; for in order that we might have boldness there, I sold the Word itself because of the obedience to the One who always says to me: 'Sell your possessions and give to the poor.'" There are also other very many virtuous deeds of this great Father; with whom may we also be counted worthy to have a share, by the grace of Christ. Amen.

CHAPTER CXVII. On Melania.

I deemed it necessary also [to tell of] brave women...

with eyes that understand perceive the eternal goods which are prepared by the glory of God.

Chapter CXV. The Life of the Monk Eleemon.

We have seen in this city a monk who refused to accept the order of the presbyterate. He had come to such a resolve after a short period of military service. Being in the twentieth year of his discipline, he had this rule of life, that he would remain with the bishop of the city, a most holy man. He is moreover so kind and merciful that he even goes about the cities and has pity on those who are in need. He does not neglect the prison, the hospital, the poorhouse, the rich man, or the poor man; but he brings aid to everyone: to the rich indeed, as they are ungentle and unmerciful, he speaks words about mercy, while to each of the needy he provides what is necessary, pacifying those who are quarreling, supplying clothing to the naked, and bringing medicines for the healing of the sick.

Now, what is wont to happen in all great cities happens also in his: for in the portico of the church lies a multitude of the maimed and mutilated living by daily begging; some of whom have taken wives, and some have not. It happened, therefore, one day that the wife of one of these was giving birth in the portico, and in the very depth of winter; as she was crying out, being pierced by that intolerable pain, this blessed man heard the wailing while he was praying in the church; and leaving his accustomed prayers, he went out and looked, and when he found no one who was tending to her in this necessity, he himself acted in the place of a midwife, not abhorring the disgust that follows women giving birth, with the insensibility of the women granting him this most profound almsgiving.

Moreover, the value of the clothing he wore was not worth a single obol; his food, however, vied with his clothing; he does not endure to ponder over a book, for his kindness distracted him from his readings. If any of the brothers gave him a book, he immediately sold it and distributed the proceeds to the poor. But to those who asked, "Why do you sell these?" he would say: "How can I persuade my Master that I have accurately learned His art, unless I have used that very thing to practice the art correctly?" Having remained an immortal in this action until now, he left behind a name forever blooming in the memory of the region round about. He himself, enjoying eternal joy in the kingdom of the heavens, receiving worthy rewards for his blessed labors, and for one who during his life nurtured the hungry and gave clothes to the naked, he now enjoys every kind of delight at the hand of the rewarder of good works.

Chapter CXVI. The Life of Abbot Bisarion.

There was a certain old man, lacking any possessions, and merciful, named Bisarion. When he had come into a certain village, he saw a naked beggar dead in the marketplace, wearing indeed one tunic in accordance with the evangelical tradition, and a small shoulder-covering; for he possessed nothing except this necessary covering. He always carried also a small Gospel under his arm, either to make a danger for himself (to see whether he would perpetually obey the word of the Lord), or rather carrying the discourse which he had already put into action by his deed. For this man led such a life, so admirable and devoid of any disgrace, that he passed through his heavenly journey as legitimately as an earthly angel. ^A When, therefore, he saw the remains, immediately stripping himself of his own shoulder-covering, he clothed the dead man with it. And again, when he had proceeded only a little way, he met a naked man in need, and stood debating with himself, and reasoning thus: "How, indeed, since I have renounced the world, am I clothed, while my brother freezes from the cold? If then I allow him to perish of cold, I shall altogether be the cause of death to my neighbor. What then—stripping myself, should I rend it and distribute a part, or shall I give the whole to him who is made in the image of God? But what use to me or to him would the part that is rent be?" And when he had debated this with himself, he said: "Shall we suffer something harmful if we do more than is commanded?" And so this noble athlete, with a ready and eager spirit, calls the poor man into the vestibule; and when he had sent him away clothed, he stood naked, covering himself with his hands, bending his knees and crouching down; having only the word under his arm which makes men rich. ^B By his counsel and providence a certain irenarch was passing by, recognized the old man, and said to his neighbor, his companion: "Look there; is that not the old man, Abbot Bisarion?" When he had said, "Certainly," he dismounted from his horse and asked the holy man, saying: "Who stripped you?" But he, extending the Gospel with his right hand, said, "This stripped me." And immediately the irenarch, stripping himself of his own garment, clothed the perfect soldier, and straightway carrying it as a small garment for a monk, he withdrew, hiding himself from the world; declining the praise of one who had seen his rule of life, expecting instead that honor which comes from the Hidden One by concealing it. This man himself, after he had correctly carried out every evangelical commandment, having nothing more of this world in his mind, for a more perfect execution of the divine words, when in passing he had seen a poor man, he hastened into the marketplace: where, when he had stood for a little while, he sold the Gospel. A few days later, therefore, the abbot's disciple who was with him, named Dulas, asked the old man, saying: "What has happened to the little book, O abba?" To whom the old man, calmly and with a very beautiful and highly inspired word, spoke, saying: "Do not be affected with sadness, O brother; for that we may have confidence there, by reason of obedience I sold the very word which to me was always saying: 'Sell what you have, and give to the poor' (Mark x; Luke xviii). ^C There are also many other things performed by the virtue of this great Father, to whom may we too be judged worthy to have a part, by the grace of Christ. Amen.

Chapter CXVII. The Life of Blessed Melania.

I have deemed it necessary, however, to remember also in this book the virtuous and honest women, to whom God gave rewards equal to the men who… ^D

to live their lives, and He returned the crown to them who pleased Him, lest those who are soft and tender [in their faith] become more listless, seeking a pretext and excuse, as though they were too weak for the struggles of virtue and [the effort] of living an honorable life. Indeed, I have seen many pious and religious women, and for the sake of virtue I have met with many virgins and widows; among whom was the most blessed Melania the Roman (168), ^A who was the daughter of the consular Marcellus (169), and wife of a certain man who was of great authority, whose name I do not rightly remember. When she was a widow at the age of twenty-two (170), she was held worthy of divine love; and having told no one—for she was hindered in those times, while Valens held the empire—she arranged for her son to be named ward, and taking her own movable goods, embarked on a ship with some servants and maids, and sailed to Alexandria. And when she had sold her property there and converted it into small gold coins, she entered the mountain of Nitria, meeting the holy Fathers: Pambo, and Arsisius (171), and Serapion the Great, and Paphnutius the Scetiote, and Isidore the confessor, bishop of Hermopolis, and Dioscorus; and she stayed among them for about half a year, passing through the solitude and seeing all the saints. After this, however, when the Augustal Prefect of Alexandria had banished Isidore, and Pissimius, and Adelphius (172), and Paphnutius, and Pambo, and among them also Ammonius the Parotiote, or "the one who has only one ear," and twelve bishops, and presbyters and clerics, and anchorites, so that they were one hundred and twenty-six in number, ^C to Palestine near Diocæsarea, she herself followed them, supporting them in their needs from her own money and providing for all of them. But when the ministers were forbidden from visiting them, as they told me—for I had met the holy Pissimius, Isidore, Paphnutius, and Ammonius—this strong woman, dressed in a servant’s tunic (173), would bring them at evening what was needed for their use. When the consular of Palestine learned of this and wished to fill his own purse, he hoped to frighten her (174); and having detained her, he cast her into prison, ignorant of her status. She, however, declared to him, saying: "I was indeed the daughter of such a man, and the wife of another who was famous on earth by birth, but now I am the handmaid of Christ. Do not despise my vile attire, for I can exalt myself if I wish; you cannot frighten me, nor can you take anything of mine; lest you, through ignorance, fall into some crime, I have declared to you who I am." For it is necessary to deal with the stupid, like a dog, ^D and to use height of spirit to receive, and in the time of their pride to hurl it back upon them. Then, indeed, when the judge had heard these things, he excused himself, and worshipped her, and ordered her to mingle with the holy men without any hindrance.

Chapter CXVIII: The life of Rufinus the priest.

The, after these were recalled, having built a monastery in Jerusalem, [Melania] spent twenty-seven years in Jerusalem, possessing a convent of fifty virgins. With her also lived the most noble and in character most similar and most strong Ruffinus, from the city of Aquileia in Italy, who was later held worthy of the presbyterate, a man than whom no one among men was more learned or more mild. For twenty-seven years, they received those who came to Jerusalem for the sake of a vow, and bishops, and monks, and virgins, and those joined in matrimony, and those of illustrious and private condition, and all who arrived, they supported with their own expenses. They also helped the schism (176) which followed Paulinus, [a community] of about four hundred men living the monastic life; and every heretic from among the Pneumatomachi—that is, from those who wage war against the Holy Spirit—they brought to a change of heart and into the Church; and they honored the clergy who were in that place with gifts and food, and thus passed their lives, offending no one, but practically helping the whole world.

Regarding that admirable and holy woman Melania, I have written above, touching upon her lightly; nonetheless, I shall add in this account the rest of what I hold in memory concerning her virtues—namely, the ineffable beneficence of this most religious woman, through which, when she had woven the blessed garment of incorruption by her own labors, and had fashioned and put on her own head the crown of glory that cannot wither, she departed from here to the Lord with great confidence. But if I wish to tell the beginning of the clear deeds of this blessed woman, for all that I know, time would fail me. As to how great a mass of wealth she consumed upon the needy, seized by heavenly desire, I do not believe the flame of fire could consume as much if it fell upon a massive pile of fuel. Nor is this for me alone to tell, but also for those who inhabit Persia and Britain, and all the islands. For of the benefits and largesse of this immortal woman, neither the West, nor the East, nor the North was destitute, nor the South. For thirty-seven years, receiving guests, she provided those things that were of use to them from her own expenses, and to churches and monasteries and hospices and prisons; and to say it once, there is no one among those who met her who did not obtain some portion of her wealth, with her kinsmen, and her own son, and her stewards providing her with money every year, and ministering to her like the oil of a brilliant lamp, so that with a shining light, kindling the flame of almsgiving, she might illuminate all. But though she persevered so greatly in hospitality, she possessed not even a palm’s breadth of land; she was not drawn away by the greed of her son, nor by the love of solitude, nor was she divided by the longing for her only-begotten son (177) from her love for Christ. But through her prayers, the youth arrived at the highest learning, was most adorned in character, was joined in a clear and illustrious marriage, and obtained worldly honors; he also had two sons (178) who would attest to a just marriage.

^A And it is fitting to make mention in this book of those whom God has rewarded with crowns equal to those who have lived a virtuous life for His sake, so that those who are more sluggish might not be discouraged, but rather be spurred on, as being weaker, toward the struggles of virtue and the attainment of a holy life. I have seen many of the pious, and I have met a great many noble women—both virgins and widows—who are distinguished in virtue. The thrice-blessed Melania was of Spanish stock, or rather, Roman. She was the daughter of Marcellinus, who had been consul, and the wife of a man of high standing, whose name I do not well remember. Having become a widow in her twenty-second year, after the passing of her husband, she was deemed worthy of divine love and was joined to the eternal Bridegroom, having loved Him to the end, and having spoken to no one of anything, for she was hindered by the times. While Valens was emperor, she caused her son’s agent to be appointed, and taking all her movable property and boarding a ship with renowned servants and maids, she sailed swiftly to Alexandria. Having reached this place, she sold all her possessions, converted them into gold, and went into the Desert of Nitria, meeting the holy Fathers—those around the blessed Pambo, and the servant of Christ Arsisius, and the great Serapion, and the holy Paphnutius, and the renowned Isidore the Confessor, then Bishop of Hermopolis, and the most approved Dioscorus. She remained among them for about half a year, traveling around the desert and meeting all the holy men. After these things, when the Augustalian had exiled the holy Fathers—Isidore, Pissimius, Adelphius, Paphnutius, Pambo, Ammonius of Parotis, and some others, one hundred and twenty-six persons in all, including twelve bishops, as well as priests, other clergy, and anchorites—to Palestine, near Diospolis, she also arrived there to serve them from her own resources. ^B When those who were serving them were hindered, as they recounted (for I met with holy Pissimius, Paphnutius, Isidore, and Ammonius), this noble woman would take the cape of a young boy each evening and bring them their necessities. When the proconsul of Palestine learned of this, wishing to fill his own coffers from her wealth, he expected to intimidate her. He seized her and threw her into prison, not knowing of her freedom. Once shut up there, the God-loving daughter, who was indeed a wife of an illustrious lineage, declared to the proconsul, saying: "I was the daughter of such a man, and the wife of another of glorious lineage, but now I am a servant of Christ. And do not pay attention to the humility of my habit and treat me with contempt. For I have the power, if I so wish, to exalt and defend myself, and you have no way to intimidate me with this, nor can you take any of my belongings. So, I have declared this to you so that you might not, through ignorance, fall into charges. For," she said, "one must use pride against the unfeeling like a dog or a hawk, and at a time of their haughtiness unleash such things against them." Having heard these things, the judge came to his senses, apologized, begged her pardon, and ordered that she be allowed to meet with the holy men without hindrance. ^C I have touched briefly upon the wondrous and holy Melania above, but I do not for that reason omit the rest; rather, I gather the memory of her virtues into the variegated tunic of this account, retelling her ineffable acts of charity toward God. Through these, she wove for herself with her own labors the blessed garment of incorruption, and with her own money fashioned the amaranthine crown of glory for her noble head, and having exchanged her garments with great boldness, she departed to God. Even if I wished to tell of all the accomplishments of this blessed woman that I know of, time would fail me. For I do not think that a flame of fire falling upon a superabundance of fuel could have burned it as greatly as the amount of material wealth she consumed for the needy when it was seized by heavenly zeal.2 ^D And it is not for me alone to tell of this, but for all those who live in Persia, and Britain, and all the islands. For as to the acts of charity and the gifts of this immortal soul, neither the West, nor the East, nor the North, nor the South missed out on them. For during the thirty-seven years she spent in exile, she provided from her own resources for churches, monasteries, and strangers; and, in short, none of those who passed by left without her aid, as those who were of her family, including her own son and her stewards, provided her with money each year, as if they were supplying oil to a bright lamp. She, by the bright light of mercy, ignited the flame and illuminated everyone with her cheerful giving. Yet, though she persevered in exile for so long, she did not acquire a span of earth. She was not drawn away from the longing for the desert by the desire of her son; nor did the love of her only-begotten Son divide her from the love of Christ. But by the prayers of this holy woman, her son also attained a pinnacle of education and character. He reached a station of marriage that was illustrious according to the standards of this world, and he rose within the ranks of worldly honors. He also had two children.

^A Having heard after many years—for she was a woman of sixty, perhaps the most venerable and prudent of all the matrons—about the situation of her granddaughter, that she had married and had intended to renounce the world, she was afraid lest they might eventually be broken by evil teaching, or by heresy, or by lukewarmness. She cast herself onto a ship, and having sailed from Caesarea, in twenty days she arrived in Rome. And having met those there, she catechized the most blessed and respectable man, the illustrious Apronianus, who was a Greek, and made him a Christian. She persuaded him also to practice continence with his wife, who was the niece of this blessed woman and was named Avita. She also strengthened her own granddaughter, Melania the Younger, along with her husband Pinianus. She also catechized Albina, her own daughter-in-law, the wife of her son. And having prepared all these to sell their possessions, she led them out of Rome and brought them to a chaste and tranquil harbor of life. And thus she fought against ^B all the senators in Rome, and against their wives, who were hindering her regarding the renunciation of the remaining relatives. But the handmaid of Christ was saying to them, "Children, it was written four hundred years ago that it is the last hour. Why, then, do you linger in the vanity of life, lest the days of the Antichrist arrive, and you may not be able to enjoy your wealth and your ancestral goods?" And through these words, having freed them all, she led them to the monastic life. She also catechized the younger son, Poplicola, and led him to Sicily, having sold all that was left of her own things. And having received the prices, she came again to Jerusalem, and having distributed the assets within forty days, she fell asleep in a good old age and honorable memory, abounding in alms, and heavy with the fruit of good works, having also left behind a monastery in Jerusalem and the expenses of the monastery.

Now as all these who had been catechized by the blessed Melania departed from Rome, a barbarian storm—which had also been foretold long ago in the prophecies—fell upon Rome, and it did not spare even the bronze statues in the marketplace, but having pillaged everything with barbarian madness, it delivered them to destruction, so that Rome, which had been beautified for one thousand two hundred years, according to the saying of the Sibyl, was ruined. Then those who had been catechized rejoiced that they had not fallen together with the irreparable evils of the sacking, glorifying God for the excellent change of affairs and for their paradoxical salvation, He who had persuaded the unbelievers by their own deeds that, while all the others were taken captive, their houses alone were saved, having been rendered a whole burnt offering to the Lord through the zeal of Melania of blessed and immortal memory, while those who had opposed them repented in vain, when it was too late.

CHAPTER CXIX. Concerning Melania the Younger.

Since I promised above to narrate the story of the child Melania, it is necessary for me to fulfill the debt now. For it is not right that, having ignored the one who is younger in age, I should leave such virtue unrecorded, ^D and one who differs from them by far in excellence. So, as for the young woman in age, but an elder in the mind of piety, her parents led her by force into marriage, binding her to the first man of Rome. And she, being pricked by the stories of her own grandmother, was so spurred on that she could not even bring herself to serve the marriage. For two male children having been born to her, and both having died, she was driven to such a hatred of the marriage that she said to her own husband Pinianus, the son of Severus the ex-prefect: "If you should choose to live with me according to the rule of temperance, I acknowledge you as master and will confess you as lord of my life. But if this seems a burden to you as a younger man, take all my possessions, and only set my body free, so that I may fulfill my desire according to God, having become an heir of the virtue according to God of my grandmother, whose name I also bear. For if God wished us to live in this world and enjoy its things, He would not have taken my children from me before their time." And after they had struggled as in a yoke for a long time, at last God, having pity on the young man, instilled into him as well a zeal for piety, so that he renounced all the substance of the world, that the prophecy of the Apostle might be fulfilled: "For what do you know, O wife, whether you will save your husband? or what do you know, O husband, whether you will save your wife?" She was married therefore at thirteen years of age, and having lived with her husband for seven years, in the twentieth year she renounced the world. And first, she donated all of her silk garments to the altars. The most venerable Olympias also did this. And having cut up the remaining silk garments, she made various ecclesiastical furnishings. She entrusted the silver and the gold to a certain presbyter, Paul, a Dalmatian monk, and sent it by sea to the East, to Egypt, and the Thebaid, ten thousand *nomismata*. To Antioch and its parts, ten thousand *nomismata*. To Palestine, fifteen thousand *nomismata*. To the churches in the islands, and those in the places of exile, ten thousand *nomismata*. To the churches in the West, and monasteries, and hospices, and to all who were in need, having distributed by her own hand and continuing to distribute four times as much, as one having snatched them from the mouth of the lion Alaric by her own faith in God. She set free the slaves who wished it, to whom she made concession. But those who preferred rather to serve her brother, she handed over. But from the value of three *nomismata*, she sold all her estates in the Spains, and Aquitania, and Tarraconensis, and the Gauls, and those in Sicily, and Campania, and Africa, she kept for herself for the support of the monasteries and all those in need. This is the wisdom of the most God-beloved, who had taken upon herself a presbyteral mind inspired by God, regarding the material weight of money, Melania the Younger. Her asceticism is such as this: to eat every other day; and in the beginning, having set herself even above five in the daily office of her own handmaids, whom she fashioned as fellow ascetics. And she, too, guiding many of her own relatives into divine zeal, made them, perhaps, to be pious. This is the life of the young Melania through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Many years later, when she heard about her granddaughter's circumstances—that she had married and desired to renounce the world—the old woman, then sixty years of age, ^A fearing that she might perchance be carried off into some evil doctrine, or heresy, or a wicked life, boarded a boat and, navigating from Caesarea, arrived in Rome in twenty days. And being there, she instructed in the faith the most blessed man of greatest reputation, the most illustrious Apronianus, who was a pagan, and made him a Christian; and she persuaded him to observe continence even with his wife, who was the daughter of her own sister, named Avita. When she had also confirmed her own granddaughter Melania in the faith, together with her husband Pinianus, and had instructed in the faith Albina, her daughter-in-law, the wife of her son, and had persuaded all these to sell what they possessed, she brought them out of Rome and led them to a noble and tranquil port of life. And thus she fought against the beasts—namely, those who were of the senatorial order, and their wives—who were preventing her from renouncing the rest of her estates. But the handmaid of Christ said to them: "Children, more than four hundred years ago it was written: 'It is the last hour' (I John ii). Why, then, do you willingly and gladly linger in the vanity of life? Lest, perchance, the days of the Antichrist should come, and you might not be able to enjoy your wealth and the goods of your ancestors?" And when she had freed them all by these words, she led them to the monastic life, and after she had instructed her younger son, Publicola, she took him to Sicily; and when she had sold all her other possessions and received the price, she led him to Jerusalem; and when she had divided her resources, within forty days she fell asleep in a good old age and with the greatest gentleness, of venerable memory and overflowing with almsgivings, leaving behind also a monastery in Jerusalem and the expenses for the monastery.

After all these whom she had instructed in the faith had left Rome, a certain barbarian storm, which had already been predicted long ago in the prophets, ^B burst upon Rome, and it did not even leave the bronze statues in the forum, but, plundering everything with barbarian insolence, it corrupted them; so that Rome, which for twelve hundred years had been most beautiful and most populous, was destroyed, and became a desert, and, as the Sibyl says, *pū,on*, that is, a village, not Rome. Then those who had been instructed in the faith, and had not resisted her, praised God who, by the mutation of affairs, had persuaded the unbelieving; for while all others were reduced to servitude, only those families were saved which had been offered as a whole burnt offering to the Lord, by the zeal of the blessed Melania; while the rest, who were hostile to their salvation, were detained in their useless repentance.

CAPUT CXIX. The Life of the Younger Melania

Since I promised that I would report about the daughter of Melania, it is necessary that I now pay the debt. For it is not just that we should despise the life of the younger Melania in the flesh, and pass over in silence the great virtue of the granddaughter of the elder Melania, which perhaps far surpasses those of prudent and studious old women. Her parents, therefore, though she was young in age, yet old in the sentiment of piety, gave her against her will in marriage, joining her to a leading man of the city of Rome. She, always goaded by the narratives of her grandmother, was so wounded that she could not perform the duties of marriage. When, however, two male children had been born to her, and they had passed away, such a hatred of matrimony seized her that she said to her husband Pinianus, son of Severus, who was one of the prefects: "If you are willing to live with me as the reason of temperance dictates, I both acknowledge you as lord and profess that my life is in your power; but if this seems burdensome to you, being as you are a young man, keep all my goods for yourself, and only leave me free in body, so that I may satisfy my desire which is from God, having become the heir of the virtue of my grandmother who is with God, whose name I also bear. For if God had wanted us to dwell in this world and to enjoy worldly things, he would not have taken away the children born to me before their time." When, however, they had contended between themselves for a long time, God, later taking pity on the young man, sent into him also a zeal for religion, so that he himself also renounced all worldly material, to such an extent that what was written by the Apostle was fulfilled: "For how do you know, O wife, whether you will save your husband?" (I Cor. vii). Therefore, when she had married at thirteen years of age, and had lived with him for seven years, in the twentieth year of her age she renounced the world; and first indeed she gave all her silk superhumerals to the altars (which the venerable Olympias also did), and the remaining silk garments, having cut them up, she made into various ecclesiastical furnishings. And when she had entrusted the gold and silver to a certain Paul, a presbyter and monk of Dalmatia, she sent it by sea to the East; and she distributed ten thousand solidi to Egypt and the Thebaid, ten thousand solidi to Antioch and the regions around it, and fifteen thousand solidi to Palestine. And she provided to the churches which are in the West, and to monasteries, and to xenodochia, and to all the needy, by her own hand, and continues to provide four times as much, as God knows, rescuing them from the mouth of the lion, Alaric, by her faith (II Timoth. iv, 17). She also freed eight thousand of her servants who wanted to be freed; for the rest did not want to be, but preferred to remain with her brother. And all the possessions which she had in Spain, in Aquitania, in Tarraconesis and the Gauls, and in other cities, when she had sold them, she distributed them down to the last three solidi; but she left for herself what she had in Sicily, Campania, and Africa, so that she could provide for monasteries and the needy. This is the wisdom of one who is in the first place religious, and who had taken on a senile mind regarding the material of money, [the wisdom of] Melania the younger.

^D This was her exercise: she ate after one day; in the beginning, however, after five days, serving her handmaids in various ways; whom she also rendered exercisers along with herself. Indeed, she herself also, leading many of her own relatives to divine zeal, made them worship God religiously just as she did. This is the life of the young Melania through our Lord Jesus Christ.

CHAPTER CXX. On Albina.

CHAPTER CXXI. On Pinianus.

CHAPTER CXXII. On Pammachius.

CHAPTER CXXIII. On Macarius.

CHAPTER CXXIV. On Constantius.

CHAPTER CXXV. On Paula the Roman.

CHAPTER CXXVI. On Eustochium.

CHAPTER CXXVII. On Venerea.

CHAPTER CXXVIII. On Theodora.

CHAPTER CXXIX. On Usia.

CHAPTER CXXX. On Adolia.

CHAPTER CXXXI. On Basianilla.

CHAPTER CXXXII. On Photina.

CHAPTER CXXXIII. On Asella.

CHAPTER CXXXIV. On Avita.

CHAPTER CXXXV. On Magna.

Chapter CXX: On Albina

Chapter CXXI: On Pinianus

Chapter CXXII: On Pammachius

Chapter CXXIII: On Macarius

Chapter CXXIV: On Constantine

Chapter CXXV: On Paulina

Chapter CXXVI: On Eustochium

Chapter CXXVII: On Venerea

Chapter CXXVIII: On Theodora

Chapter CXXIX: On Ousia

Chapter CXXX: On Adolia

Chapter CXXXI: On Vasianilla

Chapter CXXXII: On Photina

Chapter CXXXIII: On Asella

Chapter CXXXIV: On Avita

Chapter CXXXV: On Magna

^A in the fire of poverty, while assigning her surplus needs to the service of monasteries, the poor, hospices, churches, the needy, travelers, bishops, orphans, and widows. She never ceased to provide assistance joyfully to all those in need, practicing piety secretly, both through herself and through her most faithful servants; she was never absent from the church, especially at night, working in all things the virtue of asceticism, in the hope of eternal life.

CHAPTER CXXXVI. Concerning the virgin who received the blessed Athanasius.

I know of a virgin in Alexandria whom I encountered when she was about seventy years old; the entire clergy bore witness to her, that even when she was in her youth—about twenty years of age, and possessed of extreme beauty—she was avoided by the virtuous on account of her beauty, so that she might not give anyone cause for suspicion. When, therefore, it came to pass that the Arians conspired against the blessed Athanasius, the bishop of Alexandria, through the agency of Eusebius, who was the praepositus at that time under the Emperor Constantius, they slandered him by accusing him of unlawful deeds. Fleeing then, and fearing to be judged by a corrupt tribunal, the blessed man did not entrust himself to anyone—not to a relative, nor a friend, nor a cleric, nor any other of his acquaintances; but when the imperial officials entered the bishop’s residence all of a sudden and were searching for him, he took his tunic and his book in the dead of the night and fled to this virgin. She was startled by the event and was struck with terror. The bishop said to her: "Because I am sought by the Arians, being slandered by them with unlawful charges, I have conceived the plan to flee, so that I might not bring upon myself a foolish reputation, and cast those who wish to punish me into sin. For this reason, God revealed to me this night that 'you cannot be saved by any other person, except by her.'" From great joy, she cast aside every calculation and became entirely of the Lord; and she eagerly hid the most holy bishop for six years, until the death of the Emperor Constantius. She herself washed his feet, ministered to his bodily needs, and arranged all his other requirements, and provided him with books. And not one person in all of Alexandria knew where the blessed Bishop Athanasius was staying. When the death of the Emperor Constantius was announced and reached his ears, he dressed himself with dignity and decorum, and in the night he was found back in the church. ^D When everyone saw him, they were beside themselves as if they had received him back alive from the dead, and at the same time his friends complained of his hiding place, which had been undiscoverable even to them. The blessed man apologized to his true friends and acquaintances, that it was not for your sake that I did not take refuge with you, for I would have put you under oath, and besides, there was the danger of the investigation. But I took refuge with her, toward whom no one could have any suspicion, as she was beautiful and a young woman; I made secure two good things: her salvation and my own honor and safety.

CHAPTER CXXXVII. Concerning Amma Talida.

In this city of Antinoö, there are twelve monasteries for women leading an excellent life of conduct. In one of these I encountered a handmaid of God named Talida, an old woman of eighty years who had been in asceticism—as both she and her neighbors recounted—with whom sixty young virgins were living, purely completing the path of asceticism under this elder’s instruction. They all loved her so much that there was not even a lock on that monastery, as there was in the others, but they were all held together by this measureless love and by the divine instruction, being transformed into incorruptibility. The old woman had advanced to such a degree of freedom from passion ^C that when I entered and sat down, she came and sat beside me, and placed her hands upon my shoulders, with an abundance of boldness in Christ.

CHAPTER CXXXVIII. Concerning the virgin Taor.

In this monastery there was a virgin, a disciple of hers named Taor, who had spent thirty years in the monastery. She would never accept a new garment, or a maphorion, or footwear, saying: "I have no need, so that I shall not be compelled to go out." For all the others would go out every Sunday to the church for the sake of communion; but she, wearing rags, would sit continuously in the monastery at her work. She had such a beautiful face that it was near to causing even the most steadfast to be deceived by her beauty, had she not possessed a guard that surpassed her modesty, bringing to shame and fear—by the decorum of her character—even the most lustful eye.

CHAPTER CXXXIX. Concerning a certain virgin and Colluthus.

There was another virgin, in truth, who was intently focused on the work of asceticism and was my neighbor, whose face I never saw. For she never went out, as those who knew her said, from the moment she renounced the world, having completed sixty years in asceticism with her own mother. Later, when she was about to depart this life for the life that is undefiled, the holy martyr Colluthus, who was of that place, stood by the brave woman and said to her: "Today you are going to journey to your Master, and to see all the saints. Come, therefore, and dine with us in the monastery." The blessed one arose at dawn and dressed herself, and taking bread, olives, and small greens in her basket, she went out and departed to the martyrium, even though she had not gone out for so many years. And having prayed, she sat down and watched for a convenient time to eat throughout the day. When the ninth hour arrived and the time for eating was upon her, there being nothing inside, she placed the food and called upon the martyr, saying: "Bless my food, Saint Colluthus, and let your prayers accompany me." And she sat and ate. And having prayed again, she came back toward sunset to the house; and she gave to her mother a book of Clement of Alexandria, the *Stromateis* on the prophet Amos, and said to her: "Give this to the bishop who is in exile, and say to him: 'Pray for me, for I am journeying to my Lord.'" And she passed away in that same night, without fever, without headache, but having prepared herself for burial, she entrusted her spirit into the hands of God.

always remains, commanding his servants honestly, and acting ^A toward the younger: procuring two goods, and her salvation; for I have profited, both for my estimation and for my security.

CHAPTER CXXXVII. Life of Amma Talida.

In the city of Antinoöpolis there are twelve monasteries of women; in which I also met Amma Talida, who had been in discipline for eighty years, as she and her neighbors related. Sixty young women lived together with her. They loved her so much that there was not even a key for the monastery courtyard, as there was in others, but they were all held back by love for her. The old woman had reached such an intimacy that when I had entered and sat down, she also entered, and sat down with me, and with great freedom and confidence in Christ placed her hand upon my shoulders.

Chapter CXXXVIII. Life of Amma Taor.

In this monastery was a virgin, a disciple of hers, by the name of Taor, who had spent thirty years in the monastery, as those who knew her related. She would not accept a new garment or a cowl or a shoe, saying: "I have no need, lest I also be compelled to go out." For while all the others go out to the church on the Lord’s Day for the sake of communion, she remained in the monastery, clothed in rags, constantly engaged in work. She was of such elegant appearance that it lacked little but that even very steadfast men might be deceived by her beauty, had she not possessed the signal protection of temperance, which brought shameless eyes to fear and modesty through her uprightness.

CHAPTER CXXXIX. Concerning the virgin who had renounced.

There was another virgin, vigorously intent upon the works of a religious life, a neighbor of mine, though I never saw her face: for they say she never went out from the time she renounced the world. When, however, she had completed sixty years in discipline with her own mother, she was thereafter to depart this life. The martyr by the name of Colluthus, who was venerated in those places, stood before her in a vision, saying this to her: "Today you are to go to the Lord, and to see all the saints; come, therefore, and dine with us at the martyry." When, therefore, she had risen in the morning and dressed, and had taken bread, olives, and small greens in a basket, after so many years she went out; and when she had come to the martyry, she prayed. And when she had observed throughout the day the time in which no one was inside, and the hour had now ^D arrived, and she had sat down, she asked the martyr, saying: "Bless my food, holy Colluthus, and accompany me on my way with your prayers." When, therefore, she had eaten and prayed again, she came home about the setting of the sun. And when she had given to her mother a work of Clement the Stromatist on the prophet Amos, she said to her: "Give this to the exiled bishop." And she said to her: "Pray for me; for I am going to my Lord." She departed that very night. And although she had suffered neither from fever nor from a headache, but had composed herself for burial, she commended her spirit into the hands of God.

CHAPTER CXL.

Of a virgin who fell and did penance.

A certain virgin, an ascetic living with two other virgins, practiced asceticism for nine or ten years. But she was ensnared by a certain singer and had the habit of lewdness with him; and when she had conceived in her womb, she gave birth. But when she broke out into the deepest hatred of him who had deceived her, she was pricked in the depths of her soul, and arrived at such a measure of repentance that, persevering therein, she wished to kill herself by starvation, praying this with tears, and beseeching God, saying: "Great God, who bearest the sins of us all and the immense wrongdoing of the whole world; who dost not will the death of sinners and the destruction of those who fall, but hast mercy on every creature; for it is thy will that all be saved (Ezech. xxxiii). If therefore thou willest also that I, who am perishing, should be saved, in this show me thy goodness, and now let thy wonders reach unto me; and command that the fruit of my iniquity, which was conceived in wantonness and born in sin, be taken away from here and gathered; for if this does not happen, because of this cause I shall either strangle myself with a noose or cast myself down a precipice." When she prayed thus, she was heard; for the infant that had been born died not long after. From that day on, she did not again meet with him who had brought her into servitude; but giving herself wholly and remarkably to continence, serving the sick and the maimed and the mutilated for thirty years, she so appeased God and rendered him propitious that it was revealed to a certain holy presbyter that she had pleased God more in repentance than in virginity. I write this, moreover, so that we may not despise those who sin much and do penance from the heart and sincerely: just as this blessed one, who crushed her heart and in humility melted away her life, was not despised by the Lord of those who are led to repentance. ^B

CHAPTER CXLI.

Of the daughter of a presbyter who had slandered a reader, and of Eustathius the reader.

The daughter of a certain presbyter, a virgin in Caesarea of Palestine, having fallen, had been taught by the one who had brought the vice upon her to slander a certain reader of the city, and to lay the blame upon him for her corruption. And when she bore a child in her womb, being examined by her father, she named the reader. When the presbyter heard this, he was troubled and reported it to the bishop. When the bishop heard this, he convened a council of priests ^C and had the reader called and held an inquiry concerning him, examining the matter. But when asked by the bishop, the reader did not confess the matter; for how could that be stated which had not been done by him? The bishop, therefore, bearing it ill, said to him in a most severe voice: "Will you not confess your fall and do penance, O wretched and fully unclean one?" The reader answered: "I beseech you; I have said what is the truth, that this matter pertains to me not at all. For I am plainly free of fault, as one who did not even think of her; if, however, you wish to hear that which is not so, I will say: I did it." When he had said this, the bishop deposed him from the office of reader. After this accident, he threw himself at the feet of the bishop, ^D and asked, saying: "If this seems good to you, my lord bishop, since I have said, 'Nay, I have fallen,' let me be cast out of the ecclesiastical rank, and since I am not worthy to be a cleric of your holiness, command that she be given to me in marriage from this time; for neither am I a cleric any longer, nor she a virgin." When the bishop and the presbyter heard this, her father handed her over to the reader, hoping that the young man might be well-disposed toward her, and otherwise believing that he could not be drawn away from the custom. But when the young man had taken her into his hands from the bishop and her father, and had consoled her, he led her away and placed her in a monastery of women, asking the one who was the first minister of the sisterhood there that they should tolerate her there until her delivery. She then being left in the monastery, the reader left and shut himself up in a sordid cell, taking upon himself the height of the austerity of life, approaching Christ in a contrite heart with many tears and groans, saying: "Thou, Lord, knowest my actions, who knowest all things; nothing lies hidden from thee, nor is there any hidden place in which one may hide himself from thy power that sees all things; who seest all things before they come to pass. Thou alone seest the depths of thoughts, and every conception of the mind is discerned by thee, just as if it were looked upon by human eyes. Thou, since thou art a keen examiner of thoughts, judgest perfectly. Thou who bringest help to those who are afflicted by injury, who cannot be deceived, while thou avengest those who are attacked by slanders; to whom nothing unjust is pleasing, but every movement of the balance of justice is from thee always; for there stands before thee perpetually the light to which there is no access, and every work of man is before thee. It is therefore of thy just and immutable judgment to announce my right as well." While the young man was praying effectively, and diligently persevering in fasting, within a short time the pains of her labor were present. And when the hour had arrived, the just judgment of God also was present, bringing a vehement and intolerable pain to her who had been slandered: an immense multitude of groans, labors of birth ineffable, visions of the torments of hell terrible, besieging this miserable woman strongly, and the infant did not come forth from the womb because of the greatness of the labor. The first day passed, and the second, and the pains were more intolerable; the third and fourth arrived, and a pain followed heavier than many births; the fifth and sixth and seventh followed in darkness, and the unhappy woman was writhing in the pains of hell. In all these days she remained, taking neither food at all, nor seeing the slightest sleep; but with wailing and the most grievous torments of pains following, after all these things, the inflexible heart of the corrupted and false accuser, conquered by the power of God which falls not under sight, added to the intolerable pains even a confession, exclaiming with a mournful voice: "Woe to me, wretched one! I come into danger that I should perish, as one who has fallen into two evils, namely into slander and fornication, and having lost my virginity I was surrendered to detraction; and although the vice was brought upon me by another, I accused the reader." When the virgins of the monastery had heard these things, in the presence of her father all—

^A without the holy dignity, and that I am not worthy to be a cleric of your holiness, command that from now on she be given to me as a wife. For neither am I any longer a cleric, nor is she a virgin." Hearing these things, the bishop and the priest, her father, gave her over to the reader, expecting that the young man would be disposed toward her, and that otherwise he would not be able to be cut off from the habit. The young man, having taken her into his hands, and with the approval of both the bishop and her father, and having entreated her, led her away and placed her in a women’s monastery, requesting the deaconess of the sisterhood there to bear with her until the days of her childbirth. And the reader, having left her in the monastery, went away and shut himself up in a squalid cell, having undertaken a life of the most extreme austerity, approaching Christ with a contrite heart, with many tears and groanings, saying: "You know, O Lord, my deeds, You who know all things, from whom nothing is hidden. Nor is there any secret place in which anyone can hide from Your all-seeing power. You who know all things before they come to pass, You alone behold the depths of thoughts, and every intention is seen clearly by You; You examine the spirit and judge accurately; You are a helper to those who are wronged; You are the unimpeachable avenger of those who are falsely accused, to whom none of the deeds of the unjust are pleasing. ^B And every inclination of the scales of justice is with You. For the unapproachable light is always present to You, and every work of men is before You. It is therefore within Your just and impartial judgment to settle my case as well." While the young man was praying fervently and persevering diligently in fasting, within a short time the days of her childbirth arrived. And when the hour came, the just judgment of God also arrived, bringing sharp pain and unbearable agony to the one who had falsely accused him; and with a multitude of immeasurable groanings, and indescribable throes of pain, and φοβεραὶ visions of infernal torments, these strongly besieged this wretched woman; and the infant in her womb would not come forth due to the pressure. The first day passed, and the second, and the throes were more unbearable; the third arrived, and the fourth, and the pain was many times more severe; the fifth followed, and the sixth, together with a dark seventh, and the wretched woman, from great anguish, was communing with Hades; having taken neither food of any kind in all these days, nor having shared in even the slightest bit of sleep; but with wailing, pains of torture succeeded one another. After all these things, through the prayers of the young man, the heart of the corrupted and false-speaking woman was rendered relentless toward her unbearable pains, and her confession burst forth with lamentable cries, shouting: "Woe to me, the wretched one, I am in danger of perishing, having fallen into two evils, slander and fornication; I have lost my virginity, I was handed over to discord; having been corrupted by another, I accused the reader." Having heard these things, the virgins of the monastery reported everything to her father. Her father, feeling ashamed before everyone not to be convicted of the slander, not believing these things which were said, remained silent about the whole matter. But as the just judgment of God, which is present and judges all things, again brought consecutive throes upon this wretched woman, so that she was finally no longer able to either live or die, and not escaping the childbirth, the eighth day appeared, and again the ninth, in the deepest darkness of the wretched one, and those who slandered—

by the turnings of their relentless torments—to darken her. ^A Since therefore the company could not bear the great lamentations of this woman, they went off in haste and announced to the bishop that it is the ninth day today that this woman confesses that she was made pregnant by this reader, and I am not able to give birth; for she slandered him. The bishop, having heard from the virgins all that had been said, sent two deacons to the reader, declaring everything to him, and that he should pray that the wretched woman be delivered from the necessity. But this brave young man did not even give them an answer, nor did he open the door; but from the day he entered his cell, he stood fulfilling the customary rule of fasting, and beseeching God with prayers. But her father, having been moved toward pity for his own daughter, came to the bishop and begged him earnestly that a prayer for her might be made in the church; and although prayer was made by all to the Master, not even so was the wretch delivered from the necessity. For the prayers of the one slandered, importuning the Master, walled off the prayers of these others so that they might not be accepted. These things having happened in this way, the bishop arose and went to the cell in which the reader was; and though he knocked at the door, he did not wish to open it. But after the bishop had stood outside for a long time, while he was inside, the bishop commanded the door to be forced open. And having entered, they found the young man persevering in prayer, stretched out upon the floor; and after having exhorted him much, he raised him, saying: "Brother Eustathius, lector, the slander having been revealed—by God’s dispensation, your prayers having been heard, and having had compassion on her who sinned against you, having been much tormented by the scourges of the agony—release her sins; for by your prayers she suffers such things." And say to the Master that He might deliver her from the labor of her womb. The illustrious reader, having prayed fervently along with the bishop, the wretch was immediately delivered from the necessity, giving birth to a child, and begging everyone to be forgiven her iniquity by the intercessions of the just man; whom, from then on, everyone held, the brave one, in the rank of the martyrs. For having freed himself from every anxiety, he ascended to the highest walk of virtue, so as to be deemed worthy even of spiritual charism. We have written these things so that no one, having slandered, may be entangled in the nets of the enemy, and fall into unbearable pains even as of the flesh, just as the aforementioned false-birther did; and after the departure of the body from here, she was handed over to eternal and unending punishments. For he who slanders provokes God. But he who is slandered and bears it piously, and commits the revelation to prayers, awaiting the just judgment of God—just as this crowned one of Christ, who was also glorified here by force, and deemed worthy of eternal crowns. Let us know, therefore, accurately the invincible power of prayer, which both strengthens those in faith, and has mercy on those in sins, and helps those who accomplish virtue, and controls all creation, and importunes the Creator of all, ^B and crowns those who accomplish the most excellent life, and reveals the slanderers, and bestows the kingdom of heaven upon those persevering in it.

CHAPTER CXLII

Regarding Salvia

CHAPTER CXLIII

Regarding Jubinus

CHAPTER CXLIV

Regarding Olympias

they reported. The father, however, fearing that he might be condemned ^A as a slanderer, since he did not put faith in what was said, remained silent for two days. But again, the wretched woman was tormented by bitter pains, and could neither live nor die. And when this had passed, the eighth day arose, and again the ninth, with the darkest shadows of perpetual vertigo shrouding her. When, therefore, the assembly could no longer endure her great wailing, they hastened to the bishop at once to report that it was now the ninth day since she had confessed that she had slandered the lector, and that she was unable to give birth, because she had falsely accused him. The bishop, when he had heard these things from the virgins, sent two deacons to the lector, signifying everything to him, and asking him to pray for her, that the wretched woman might be delivered from these distresses. The noble young man, however, neither gave them an answer nor opened ^B the door; but from the day he entered his cell, he did not come out, fulfilling the customary rule of fasting and pouring out prayers to God. The father, having been humbled, and taking pity on his daughter, came to the bishop and begged him earnestly that prayers should be offered for her in the church. And when prayers had been poured out for her by all to the Lord, not even then was the wretched woman delivered from necessity. For the prayers of him who had been falsely accused, appealing to the Lord, prevented theirs from being heard. Matters being thus, the bishop arose and went to the cell in which the lector was; and when he had knocked at the door, he would not open. But when the bishop had been outside for a long time, and the other inside, the bishop ordered the door to be removed. And having entered, they found the young man persisting in prayer ^C and prostrate upon the ground. The bishop, entreating him much, says: "Brother Eustathius the lector, now that the slander has been brought into the open by the providence of God, and your prayers have been heard, have mercy on her who sinned against you, who has been tortured by the lashes of torments. Have mercy now on the wretched woman, and rising up, loose what you have bound, for it is by your prayers that she suffers this, and tell the Lord that He may deliver her from the labor of the womb." When the renowned lector prayed intensely together with the bishop, the wretched woman was immediately delivered from necessity, giving birth to the infant; she entreated everyone that her iniquity might be remitted through the intercession of the just man, and everyone henceforth held that excellent man in the place of a martyr. For as he had henceforth freed himself from all anxiety, he attained to the height of the life which is lived according to virtue, so that he was deemed worthy of spiritual grace. We have written these things ^D lest any who is slandered be caught in the nets of the enemy, and fall into intolerable pains of the flesh, as this woman previously wrote as a false accuser; but after she had been liberated from the body, she was handed over to eternal and intolerable torments, which shall never cease. For he who slanders provokes God to anger: but he who is falsely accused, and bears it with pious and equitable mind, and allows his defense to rest in prayers, awaiting the just judgment of God, as this one was crowned by Christ—he is praised, though he might be silent about it, and is held in honor, and obtains the eternal crown. Let us learn, therefore, diligently how insurmountable are the powers of prayer, which both confirms the faithful and has mercy on sinners, and moves the Creator of all, and crowns those who carry themselves rightly according to virtue, and grants the kingdom of heaven to those who persevere in it.

Chapter CXLII. Vita sanctae Silvaniae

At that time it happened that we were sailing together from Aelia to Egypt, escorting the blessed Silvania, a virgin, sister of Ruffinus, who was among the prefects.

Chapter CXLIII. De Jubino

Among them was also with us Jubinus, at that time a deacon, but now bishop of the church of Ascalon, a pious and learned man. When a most vehement heat had overcome us, and we had reached Pelusium, it happened that Jubinus, taking a basin, washed his feet and hands with very cold water; and after he had washed, he rested upon a skin spread on the ground. When she observed this, she, like a wise mother toward her own son, rebuked his softness, saying: "How do you bring your soul, conducting yourself at such an age, while your own blood is still alive, to pamper your little flesh to such an extent, not feeling the harm that arises from it? Take heart, take heart: behold, I have reached my sixtieth year, and except for the extremities of my hands (and this for the sake of communion), my foot has never touched water, nor my face, nor any of my limbs, even though various illnesses have attacked me; and when I was forced by doctors to use a bath, I did not bring my mind to render the debt to the flesh, never resting in a bed, nor entering a litter carried anywhere."

Since she was most learned, and had embraced learning with love, she transformed the nights, illuminated by herself with rich oil, into days, perusing all the writings of the ancients who published commentaries, the three hundred thousand lines of Origen, and those of Gregory and Stephen and Pierius, and Basil, and certain other men of outstanding virtue—one million two hundred and fifty thousand of them—not lightly nor rashly perusing these things, but elaborately reading each book seven or eight times, that for the sake of these words she might be raised on high, making herself, by good hope, a spiritual bird, and flying up to Christ, to receive from Him immortal rewards.

CHAPTER CXLIV. Concerning Olympias

The venerable and honorable Olympias followed in her footsteps, and every virtue of the divine spiritual life, and she was captivated with the highest zeal for the ways that lead to heaven, following the judgment of the divine Scriptures in everything. She was, according to the flesh, the daughter of Seleucus of the comites, but in truth a daughter of God according to the spirit; the granddaughter of Ablavius, who was among the prefects, and for some days the bride of Nebridius, who was one of the prefects of the city of Constantinople; yet she herself was in truth the wife of no man. It is said, however, that she died a virgin incorrupt, having become a companion of the divine word, a spouse, however, of all true humility, communicating with and ministering to all the needy. She herself, when

spread all those infinite and immense riches, she extended aid to all, absolutely and indiscriminately. For no city, no countryside, no wilderness remained devoid of the bounties of this illustrious virgin; rather, ^A she provided for churches for the offerings appointed for the sacrifice, and for monasteries, and for coenobia, and for hospitals, and for those in prison, and for exiles; and, to speak once for all, she scattered alms throughout the whole world. This blessed one proceeded to the ultimate extremity of humility, beyond which nothing further can be found. A life without any vain glory, a character by no means feigned, sincere behavior, a countenance not beautified by artifice, a flourishing body, a mind not boastful, a soul alien to arrogance, a heart not at all turbulent, a wakefulness void of slumber, a spirit not curious, an immense charity, a communication which cannot be comprehended, vile and despised clothing, infinite continence, ^B upright thought, eternal hope in God, along with alms which cannot be described—the ornament of all the humble, upon whom are kindled many temptations from the operation of him who is evil of his own will and devoid of every good, namely the devil: she who for the sake of truth underwent no small struggles, who also lived for a long time abundantly in immense tears, subject to all human nature for the Lord’s sake; with all piety subject to holy bishops, venerating the priesthood, honoring the clergy, reverencing exercise, embracing virginity, bringing aid to widowhood, caring for orphanage, protecting old age, visiting the sick, pitying sinners, leading the erring into the way, using mercy towards all, but profusely towards the poor, and having instructed many wives of the infidels in the catechism, ^C even bringing them help for their sustenance. She left behind a name for kindness, memorable forever throughout her whole life. Restoring from servitude to liberty countless numbers of slaves, she rendered them equal in honor to her own nobility, or rather—if one ought to speak the truth—they became more noble by the habits of this saint. For there could not be found anything more vile among her garments; for even to those who were greatly covered in rags, the coverings of this saint were unworthy. But her meekness was so great that it even far surpassed the simplicity of children themselves. She was never found by a neighbor to be under any rebuke, this woman who bore Christ; but her whole life, not living for itself, was in compunction and a frequent ^D torrent of tears; and it would rather have been possible to see the fountains of the earth fail in their flow than for the tears to cease from the eyes of this woman, which were on high and ever beholding Christ. And why do I linger on these things? For the more my mind will be occupied in narrating the struggles and virtues of a soul like solid rock, the more will words be found to be removed from the deeds. And let no one think that I am collecting these things brilliantly and magnificently about this most suffering woman, and searching out the relics of the most chaste Olympias, who was entirely a precious vessel of the Holy Spirit; but because I have seen with these eyes the life and angelic discipline of this blessed one, as one who was her spiritual brother and friend, and most familiar with her kinsfolk, to such an extent that much of her money was by me from her sentence distributed. These things, therefore, are no longer of those who are wise in the flesh, subject to principalities, obedient to powers, venerating the priesthood, honoring the entire clergy; she is also held worthy of a confession for the sake of the truth, having received many storms of importunate refusals. Those who live piously in Constantinople recount her life, as one who was recently in danger alongside her mother in those things which are of the struggles from God; and in these she received a blessed glory having finished her course, and in the infinite age, crowned, she celebrates a procession, dwelling forever in mansions subject to no destruction, with the saints and those like her, and receiving with confidence the remuneration for good works from Christ the Lord.

CAPUT CXLV. Of Candida.

After her, living in the same way in the Lord, the blessed Candida, wife of Trajan the master of soldiers, when she had arrived at the height of honor, and had adorned churches conveniently for reason, and had venerated bishops for the dignity of the sacraments of Christ, and had openly honored all the clergy of Christ, and had established her own daughter in the lot of virginity, she sent her ahead to Christ, a gift of her own bowels: but later she herself also, by temperance and chastity and the distribution of money, followed her daughter. I saw this excellent woman working and grinding the whole night, and making the bread of the oblation with her own hands, in order to subdue the strength of the body, and saying: Since fasting does not suffice, I give to it a laborious vigil as a companion, so that I may dissolve and weaken the lasciviousness of Esau. She abstained altogether from those things which are endowed with blood and animated; except that she took fish and oil and vegetables, and that only on a feast day: but at all other times she was content with oxycrat and dry bread. In this rigor of life, when this illustrious woman had fallen asleep with a blessed rest, she now enjoys eternal goods, which are prepared for those who have loved the life which is lived out of virtue.

CAPUT CXLVI. Of Gelasia.

Consequently, by the zeal of this good woman, the first to enter the way of truth, pieously drawing the yoke of virginity, was the venerable Gelasia, daughter of a certain tribune. This is reported to be the virtue of this excellent woman, that the sun never set upon her grief, not against a servant, not against a handmaid, not against anyone else. This blessed woman, having fled the way of those who are mindful of an accepted injury, which leads to eternal death, escaped this evil sting of the devil, namely of hatred and malevolence; and since she desired the eternal remission of sins, she remitted small offenses, that she herself also might find the remission of greater ones.

CAPUT CXLVII. Of Juliana.

A certain woman named Juliana, a virgin in Caesarea of Cappadocia, is said to have been both most learned and most faithful, who received the writer Origen who was fleeing from the insurrection of the gentiles, hiding him for two years, to her own

^A expense, and through her own ^B arrangement, distributed the goods of the latter to many of those according to her will. This woman, then, no longer mindful of the things of the flesh, being subject to authorities, yielding to powers, and submitting to bishops, speaking reverently to the presbytery, and honoring the entire clergy, was judged worthy of confession for the sake of the truth, having received many storms of untimely accusations. Those of the pious who dwell in Constantinople judge her life to be that of a confessor; she who was in danger of death in the struggles for God; and having finished her life in these things, she obtained blessed glory, wearing the crown in the endless age and rejoicing, dwelling forever in the undefiled abodes with divine souls and those like her own, and asking with boldness for the rewards of her good works from the Master God.

CAP. CXLV. On Candida.

Following her, and living and acting in a manner worthy of the Lord, was the blessed Candida, the daughter of the general Trajan. Having reached the highest point of reverence, she adorned the churches worthily, and reverenced the bishops as worthy of the mysteries of Christ, and honored the entire clergy of Christ appropriately. Having instructed her own daughter, she sent her forth to Christ as a gift of her own womb, to the lot of virginity. Later, she herself also followed her own daughter in temperance, in purity, and in the distribution of her wealth. I know this noble woman to have toiled through the entire night, grinding with her own hands, making the bread for the offering, for the subduing of the power of the body, explaining that when fasting was not sufficient, I give to it as an ally also the laborious vigil, that I might break the insolence of Esau. She abstained to the extreme from blood and living things, but would take fish and oil and vegetables; and these only on a feast day. For all other time, she continued, contenting herself with diluted vinegar and dry bread within herself. The praiseworthy one, having put the blessed rest to sleep by her harsh discipline, now enjoys the eternal goods prepared for those who have loved the virtuous life.

CAP. CXLVI. On Gelasia.

Following the zeal of this virtuous woman, the most reverend Gelasia, daughter of a certain tribune, piously traveled the road of immortality, having drawn the yoke of virginity. This is the virtue reported of this excellent woman, that the sun never set upon her sadness, neither against a servant, nor against a handmaid, nor against any other. Having thus avoided the path of those who hold grudges, which leads to eternal death, this blessed woman took hold of that which leads to eternal life.

CAP. CXLVII. On Juliana.

A certain virgin again by the name of Juliana in Caesarea of Cappadocia was said to be most learned and most faithful, who received the writer Origen who was fleeing from the insurrection of the gentiles, hiding him for two years, at her own

expense and through her own service nourishing the man. I found these things written in a very ancient book of lines, which had been written by the hand of Origen. This book I found with the virgin Juliana in Caesarea, while I myself was also hiding with her. She said she had received it from Symmachus the translator of the Jews himself.

I have not set down these virtues of these celebrated women merely as an aside, but so that we might learn that it is possible to gain merit in many ways, if we wish, through various pretexts.

CAPUT CXLVIII. Narrative of Hippolytus, the acquaintance of the apostles.

In another small book inscribed with the name of Hippolytus, the acquaintance of the apostles, I found a narrative such as this: A certain most noble and most beautiful virgin lived in the city of Corinth, exercising herself in a virtuous life. At that time, those who were then judging—being gentiles during the period of the persecutors—denounced her, as if she were blaspheming the times, the kings, and the idols. The traders in such things, being woman-mad, tempted the godless judge with her beauty. ^B He gladly received the accusation with his horselike ears and woman-mad thoughts. When she was brought before this bloodthirsty man, he raged all the more with licentiousness. But because the profane man, having employed every device against her, could not persuade the handmaiden of God, he subjected this noble woman to various tortures. When he failed in these things as well, being unable to force her to renounce her confession of Christ, the savage man became mad against her, and then surrendered her to such a punishment: having placed the chaste woman in a brothel, he commanded the one who managed these women, saying, "Take her, and bring to me daily three nomismata from her." The man collecting the gold from the shameful act placed her as available to those who wished, in the workshop of filth. When, therefore, the woman-monsters who dealt with such things knew of it, they waited by the illicit workshop, giving the wages of the shameful occupation and wishing to consort with her for ruin. But this most dignified woman, warding off their words with deception, pleaded with them and exhorted them, saying that she had a sore in a hidden place which recently smelled bad, and that she feared they might come to hate her because of the stench of the sore. "Give me, therefore, a few days, and you have authority over me and to have me for free." By these words the blessed woman persuaded the profligate men and sent them away for the time being. With most seemly prayers she entreated God, and with contrite supplications she bent Him toward mercy. God, therefore, having paid attention—He who knows the thoughts of how the chaste woman cared from the heart for her purity—in those days the guardian of the salvation of all men ordained such a thing as this.

CAPUT CXLIX. Concerning a certain Magisterianus.

A certain young man, a Magisterianus, beautiful in appearance and pious in mind, into whom God had instilled a spiritual, fire-burning zeal, even to the point of despising death, went off in the guise of profligacy. He entered late in the evening to the one who was feeding these women, and gave him five nomismata, saying to him, "For this girl." Having entered, therefore, with her into the secret chamber, he said to her, "Rise, save yourself." And having stripped her of her garments and clothed her in his own attire, with the tunics, and the chlamys, and all the male clothing, he said to her, "Cover yourself with the edge of the chlamys and go out." She did so, and having sealed her whole self with the mystery of the cross, she went out from that place incorrupt and undefiled; she was saved entirely by the grace of Christ, and by the cause of the young man, who by his own blood had delivered her from this shameful ruin. On the following day, the matter was made known, and the Magisterianus was brought before the most beastly judge. But the savage one, having examined the noble athlete of Christ and having learned everything, commanded that he be thrown to the beasts, in order that in this too the hater of good might be put to shame. For thinking he was inflicting an unlawful punishment upon the brave man, he rendered him a double martyr of Christ: one who had struggled nobly for his own immortal soul, and one who had endured the labors like an athlete for that celebrated and blessed woman. Therefore, he was deemed worthy of double honor from Christ, and of crowns celebrated and blessed by His philanthropy.

CAPUT CL. Concerning Magnentius and the wife of the senator.

I remembered also another story, and it is good not to pass this by. It is said regarding Magnentius the rebel, that he used to consort with many gentile women and threw himself upon Christian ones, wishing to consort with them; and they preferred to die rather than betray their chastity. Coming, therefore, to one city, he fell in love with a certain woman, the wife of a senator of the rank of ex-prefect; and her husband, being afraid, said to him, "Send and take her." And when the soldiers came for her, the woman said to them, "Wait a little until I adorn myself in the manner in which I am accustomed." And having entered into her bedchamber, taking a sword, she plunged it into her own bowels. Let the virgins hear, and let them be ashamed—those who profess to have Christ as their Bridegroom and yet betray Him for a little sensual pleasure. But may God grant each of us to save our virginity; and rejoicing with the psalmist, let us cry out: "Pierce my flesh with the fear of thee; for I was afraid of thy judgments." And: "I live, yet no longer I, but Christ lives in me." And may it be granted to us also to say this while being sober: "I to my beloved, and my beloved to me." At one time a bridegroom, at another a brother, so that nothing carnal is conceived. For if you hear "bride and bridegroom," it signifies the spiritual union with the Father. We also saw other Fathers and monks throughout all Egypt performing many powers and signs, whom, because of their multitude, we have not mentioned; but we have narrated a few instead of the many. For what could one say concerning the Upper Thebaid, that around Syene, in which are most admirable men, and a boundless multitude of monks? Whose ways of life no one would believe, as they exist beyond human life; who even to this day raise the dead, and walk upon the waters just as Peter did, and everything that the Savior did through the saints...

and feeding him out of his own resources. I have found these things in a very ancient book written in verses, which indeed was written by the hand of Origen. This book I found myself with the virgin Juliana in Caesarea, with whom I myself had taken refuge (215). She said, however, that she had received it from Symmachus, the translator of the Jews.

It was not foreign to the intended work to have set forth the virtues of these women; for we should know that one may profit on various occasions, if we wish.

CHAPTER CXLVIII. Regarding a very noble woman (216) who was always a virgin.

In another very ancient book, written by Hippolytus, who was familiar with the apostles, I found such a narrative:

There was a certain most noble and beautiful virgin, who in life was accustomed to practicing virtue in Corinth. At that time, they brought her before a judge who was a pagan during the time of the persecutors, as one who incessantly maligned the times, the emperors, and the idols. The keepers of such establishments proposed her beauty to the wicked judge, who was madly in love with women; he, having the ears of an ass ^B and thoughts crazed by love for women, accepted the accusation. Being brought before that wicked man, she was captured by his much greater frenzied intemperance. But after he had applied all manner of devices against her and could not persuade this handmaiden of God, he subjected the strong woman to various tortures. But after he had not achieved what he wanted—as one who could not lead her away from the confession of Christ—the insane and cruel man did not hand her over to the torments of the rack, but placing the chaste and temperate woman in a brothel, he ordered the one who possessed them, saying: "Take her for me, and bring me three solidi from her daily." He, however, demanding gold from the shameful act, handed her over to those who were willing in the workshop of abominable sin. When those who were held by an insane love of women learned this, they sat at the den of the wicked workshop, paying the fee for their unhonest operation. But that most honest and highly venerable virgin, deflecting her words toward deception, said to them suppliantly, asking: "I have an ulcer in a private place, which smells bad in a way that is to be marveled at, and I fear that loathing for me will take you on account of the repulsive ulcer; grant me, therefore, a few days, and then it will be permitted you to have me for free." The intemperate men were persuaded by these words, and the blessed woman sent them away; but by constant prayers appeaseing God, and with compunctious supplications, she bent Him toward mercy. God, therefore, who knows hearts, attending to how she carried the care of chaste purity in her soul, in those days contrived such a thing for the salvation of all.

CHAPTER CXLIX. Regarding Magistrianus (217).

A certain young man, Magistrianus, beautiful in appearance and pious in mind, into whom God had instilled a spiritual zeal so ardent that he even contemned death: he, having approached there under the pretext of intemperance, in the evening enters to him who was feeding them, and gives him ^A five solidi; and says to him: "Grant me to stay this night with this girl." Having entered into a hidden place with her, he says to her: "Rise, save yourself." And when he had clothed her in his own garments—tunic, shirt (218), and cloak, and all men's clothing—he says to her: "Go out, covering yourself with the upper part of the cloak." When she had done so, and had fortified herself entirely with the sign of the cross, having gone out from that place completely incorrupt and undefiled, she was saved by the grace of Christ, and by the cause of the youth who freed her from vile vice with his own blood. On the following day, the matter was known, and Magistrianus was produced before the most savage judge. But when the impious one had examined the strenuous athlete of Christ, and had learned everything, he ordered him to be thrown to the beasts, so that even the demon infested with evils might be afflicted with ignominy in him. For when he had thought to cast the strong man into a nefarious execution, he made him a martyr of Christ twice over, in that he fought excellently for his own soul and persevered strenuously in labors for hers. Wherefore he was held worthy by Christ’s kindness of double honor and two crowns of distinction.

CHAPTER CL. Regarding the wife of a senator (219).

I remember another history, and it is good not to pass it by. It is said of the tyrant Magnentius that he had held the custom of illicit intercourse with many pagans, and had set his heart to have affairs with Christians, too; but they preferred to die rather than betray their chastity. When, therefore, he had come to ^C a certain city, he loved a certain wife of a man of the senatorial class, one of the prefects. Filled with fear, her husband said to her: "Send her away, take her." But when the soldiers had come to her, the woman said to them: "Wait a little while until I arrange my world to which I am accustomed." Having entered her bedchamber, taking a sword, she planted it in her own vitals. Let virgins hear and blush, who profess that they have Christ as their bridegroom, and betray Him with wayward lust. But may God grant to each of us to keep our virginity, and as we exult, to cry out with the psalm-writer: "Pierce my flesh with thy fear: for I have feared thy judgments" (Ps. cxviii). And: "And I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me" (Galat. ii). However, may it be granted that you also may say soberly: "My cousin, and my cousin is to me, sometimes indeed a bridegroom, sometimes truly a brother, so that nothing carnal is thought" (Cant. vi). For if you hear "bridegroom and bride," it signifies the spiritual union with the Father.

We have seen others also, Fathers and monks ^D throughout all Egypt, performing many virtues and signs, whom we do not remember on account of their multitude, but we have recounted a few in place of many (Ruff., bk. ii, in the epilogue). For what might one say of the upper Thebaid which is near Syene, in which there are men truly admirable, and an infinite multitude of monks, the institutions of whose life someone might not believe, as they surpass human life: who even unto this day raise the dead, and walk upon the waters, like Peter; and whatever the Savior did through his saints…

walk, just as Peter did; and whatever the Savior accomplished through the holy apostles, He accomplishes now as well. But because a great danger loomed if we were to cross beyond Lycopolis, on account of the incursion of brigands, we did not dare to see those holy ones. For we neither saw the aforementioned Fathers without danger, nor did we behold these holy women without labor; but having suffered many things beforehand and having been near to peril, we attained with difficulty the sight of them. For seven times we fell into mortal danger; in the eighth, however, no evil touched us, since God preserved us entirely. Once, for five days and nights walking through the desert, we were near to expiring from hunger and thirst. Other times, falling into sharp and rugged marshes, and with our feet pierced, and the pains being intolerable, we were nearly frozen to death. A third time we were stuck in mire up to our loins, and there was no one to rescue us; and we cried out these words of blessed David: "Save me, O Lord God, for the waters have reached even to my soul. I am stuck in the deep mire, and there is no substance" (Ps. LXVIII); and, "Save me from the mire, lest I be stuck." The fourth was the host of water which flowed in from the rise of the Nile, when for four days we walked through the waters and were nearly overwhelmed at its outlets. Then we cried out, saying: "Let not the storm of water drown me, nor the deep swallow me" (Ps. LXVIII). Fifth, we fell into the hands of brigands on the seashore, while traveling to Diolcos, who pursued us even that far, desiring to capture us, until only a little breath remained in us, as they had pursued us for ten thousand paces. Sixth, ^C traveling by the Nile, we were nearly capsized and drowned. The seventh was when, in the Mareotic marsh, where papyrus grows, we were cast out onto a small deserted island; and for three nights and days we remained under the open sky, with great cold and rains threatening us, for it was the time of the Epiphany. The eighth is indeed superfluous to relate, yet it is useful; for when we had come through a certain place in Nitria, there was in that region a large hollow in which many crocodiles had remained, when the water had receded from the fields. So, when three crocodiles stretched out on the edge of the pit, we approached to see the beasts, thinking that they were dead, but they immediately rushed upon us. But as we called upon the Lord with a great voice, "Christ, help us," the beasts, as if turned away by an angel, ^D threw themselves into the water. We, for our part, pressed on to Nitria at a great pace, meditating on that word of Job, where he says: "Seven times He shall deliver thee from necessities; in the eighth, evil shall not touch thee" (Job V). Therefore, we give thanks to God, who delivered us from so many dangers and showed us great spectacles.

Chapter CLI: The life of the brother who lived with him.

Since, therefore, I have said a little about the brother who has been with me from my youth until this day, I will here bring my discourse to an end. I have known him for a long time, as he ate, having ^A been free from all affection of gluttony, and in the same way, when he fasted, having no such feeling, as one who, I believe, had conquered the passion, far removed from avarice, always content with present things, not adorning himself with garments, giving thanks for the contempt shown him, facing dangers for his true friends, and having experienced demons more than a thousand times, so much so that one day a demon made a pact with him and said: "Make a pact with me that you will sin even once, and whoever in this life you name, whether nobleman or rich man, I will bring them to you." And again, when he had fought with him for fourteen nights, as he told me, and had dragged him by the foot at night, he spoke to him, saying: "Do not adore Christ, and I will not approach you." But he, answering, said: "For that reason I adore Him, and I will praise Him even more, in countless ways, and I will pray more often, since His worship troubles you." He came to a hundred and six cities, and in most of them he also spent some time. He had no experience of women, not even in dreams, unless he dreamt that he was being assailed by a demon of fornication. Three times I know of his receiving food from an angel when he was in need. One day, when in extreme solitude he did not have even a crumb, he found in a sheepskin three warm loaves of paximadia; at another time, wine and bread; at another time, again, a voice came to him, saying: "I know that food is lacking to you; go and receive from N., that man, grain and oil." So when he had come to the person to whom he had been sent, he said to him: "Are you that monk?" Then he said: "Yes, I am the one of whom you speak." The other replied: "The father of the family has indeed commanded you to receive thirty modii of grain and twelve sextarii of oil." Of him I could boast and preach what manner of person he was; whom I have known often to have wept for those who labored in poverty out of necessity; he offered, therefore, whatever he had, except for his own body. I know also that he wept for one who had fallen into sins, and that he had led back to repentance by his tears him who had fallen. He told me this once: "I prayed to God that He would not compel anyone, especially among the rich and wicked, to give me something that was necessary for use."

But for me, it suffices that I have been thought worthy to have remembered all these things which I have committed to writing. For it was not without the will of God that this was done, that your mind should be moved to command me to write this book, to commit to writing, I say, the life of these holy and blessed Fathers.

But you, most faithful servant of Christ and venerable Lausus, and a head most dear and most true to me, reading this book willingly, will provide great utility to your immortal soul, embracing in your mind, at the resurrection of the just, the institutes of these illustrious athletes of the righteous life, their labors, and such great endurance and patience in a life lived in hardship. Wherefore follow these things with a ready and eager spirit, nourished by good and incorrupt hope, always looking back at the days that are before you as shorter; and pray for me, keeping yourself free from reproach and remaining whole: such as I knew you and had you, from the consulship of Tatianus until the

^A present day, having performed the works which the Lord accomplished through the holy apostles, these same things remain even now. But because the danger was very great for us to go further to Lyco, on account of the incursion of robbers, we did not dare to see those holy men. For we did not see those Fathers who have been mentioned without danger, nor have we looked upon these sacred things without distress and toil; but having suffered many things, and having come near to danger, we were with difficulty deemed worthy to behold them. For we fell into death seven times, but in the eighth, no evil touched us, the Lord always saving us. Once, for five days and nights, walking through the desert in hunger and thirst, we almost grew faint. At another time, having fallen into sharp and thick marshes, and having pierced our own feet, so that the pains became unbearable, we almost perished. A third time, we were stuck in the mud up to our waist, and there was no one to rescue us; and we cried out the words of the blessed David: “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my soul; I have stuck in the mire of the deep, and there is no standing.” And: “Save me from the mire, that I may not be stuck.” The fourth was the multitude of waters flowing from the rising of the Nile, for three days walking through the waters, and at the channels we almost drowned. Then we cried, saying: “Let not the tempest of water drown me, nor the deep swallow me up.” And the fifth, we fell among robbers along the sea-shore, having arrived at the Diolcus, who pursued us until they wished to catch us, until our breath was left small, as we were chased for ten miles. ^B Sixth, sailing the Nile, we were slightly shipwrecked and capsized. The seventh was when we were cast out onto a small, desert island near the Mareotic lake, where the papyrus grows, and we remained for three days and nights in the open, with great cold and rain upon us; for it was the season of the Epiphany. In the eighth, the story is superfluous, yet profitable. For as we were passing through a certain place towards Nitria, there was a great hollow in the country full of water, in which many crocodiles remained, the water having receded from the fields. Three crocodiles, therefore, being stretched out on the edge of the pit, we approached, thinking the beasts to be dead; but they immediately rushed at us. And as we called upon the Lord with a loud voice, “Christ, help us,” the beasts, as if turned away by an angel, cast themselves into the water; and we went with frequent speed to Nitria, pondering the voice of Job, where he says: “Seven times he shall deliver you out of distress, yet in the eighth no evil shall touch you.” We give thanks, therefore, to God, who has delivered us from so many dangers and shown us great visions.

Chapter LI. Of the brother who lived with me.

I will speak, therefore, a few things concerning the brother who has been with me from my youth until this day, and here I shall end my discourse. I have known this man well, having from long years accomplished the most excellent life, and mastering the passions. And I know this man precisely, not to have appeared in passion, not having fasted or conquered—as I think—the passion of avarice; ^C almost escaping vainglory, always being content with what he had, not adorning himself with clothes, being despised by some or humiliated, he gave thanks, over-endangering himself for his true friends, having taken the test of demons up to a thousand times and more; as even on one of the days a demon had met him, and said only: “Join with me just once to sin, and whichever noble and rich woman you choose, I will easily bring to you.” And at another time, the demon of blasphemy having fought him for fourteen days, as he himself told me, and at night having dragged him by the foot, he spoke with a man’s voice, saying: “Do not worship Christ, and I will not approach you.” But he, answering, said to him: “For this very reason, because you are annoyed by Him, I will worship and glorify Him.” And again, “And I shall pray many times more abundantly, and as long as the Spirit is in me, I shall beseech Him, because you oppose the worship of God.” Having trodden one hundred and six cities, and having spent time in most of them, he had no experience of a woman, by the mercy of Christ, not even in a dream, except for the war of the demon of fornication. A third time, I knew him to have need of food, receiving it from the hand of holy angels. In one of the days, being found in the utmost desert, and carrying no food at all, he found three warm loaves in his sheepskin. Another time, again, biscuits; and at the third, wine with bread. I knew him, again, when he lacked provisions, to hear from an angel: “Go and take oil and grain from such-and-such a person.” And he, questioning nothing, went to the one indicated to him. ^D The one who saw him says to him: “Are you the so-and-so who is fasting?” He answers and says: “Yes, I am he whom I knew.” The other says: “The master of the house ordered that there be given to you thirty modii of wheat and twelve sextarii of oil.” I will boast of such a man as he was. I know him to have wept over men who were in need and in poverty, having provided whatever he had, except his own flesh. I know him to have wept even over one who had fallen into sins; who by his tears brought the fallen one to repentance. He once swore to me that he had besought God not to touch anyone, especially the base rich, for the sake of giving me some of my lacking debts. And to me, it suffices that I have been deemed worthy by divine grace to have a memory of all these things and to be able to commit them to writing. For no longer, as I think, has your good mind been moved without the energy of God, for the ordering of the composition of this book and for committing to writing the lives of the holy and blessed Fathers. But you, most faithful servant of Christ, honored Lausus, and to me a dear and most genuine head, reading this book with pleasure, you will provide sufficient benefit to your immortal soul on the resurrection of the just, taking into your mind the virtuous lives of the famous athletes, and their lives, and their labors, and such great patience, and the endurance of hardship. Follow these willingly, nourished by a good and pure hope, always seeing the days before you as shorter; and pray for me, keeping yourself free from reproach and remaining whole: such as I knew you and had you, from the consulship of Tatianus until the