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A SELECT LIBRARY

NICENE AND POST-NICENE FATHERS

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

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TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH WITH PROLEGOMENA AND EXPLANATORY NOTES.

VOLUMES I. -VII.
UNDER THE EDITORIAL SUPERVISION OF

PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D., LL.D.,

Professor of Church History in tlie
Union Tlieological Seminary, New York.

AND

HENRY WAGE, D.D.,

Principal of King's College,
London 4

IN CONNECTION WITH A NUMBER OF PATRISTIC SCHOLARS OF EUROPE

AND AMERICA.

VOLUME XI.

SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

VINCENT OF LERINS.

JOHN CASSIAN.

NEW YORK:

THE CHRISTIAN LITERATURE COMPANY.

OXFORD AND LONDON:
PARKER & COMPANY.

1894.

^S-'1(o1

Press of J. J. Little & Co.
Astor Place, New York.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XI.

SULPITIUS SEVERUS. Page
By Alexander Roberts, D.D., Professor of Humanity, St. Andrews, Scotland.

Life i

Life of St. Martin 3

Letters 18

Dialogues 24

Doubtful Letters , 55

Sacred History 71

VINCENT OF LfiRINS.

By C. a. Heurtley, D.D., Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity in the University
of Oxford and Canon of Christ Church.

Introduction 127

A Commonitory 131

Appendices 1 57-159

JOHN CASSIAN.

By Edgar C. S. Gibson, M.A. Principal of the Theological College, Wells, Somerset.

Prolegomena 183

The Twelve Books on the Institutes of the Ccenobia 201

• The Conferences, Part I. (i.-x.) 291

The Conferences, Part II. (xi.-xvii.) 411

The Conferences, Part III. (xviii.-xxiv.) 475

The Seven Books on the Incarnation of the Lord, Against Nestorius 547

THE WORKS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

TRANSLATED,

WITH PREFACE, AND NOTES,

REV. ALEXANDER ROBERTS, D. D.,

PROFESSOR OF HUMANITY, UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS, SCOTLAND.

LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

—>o>ei.cx^

SuLPiTius (or Sulpicius) Severus was born in Aquitania about a.d. 363, and died, as is gener-
ally supposed, in a.d. 420. He was thus a contemporary of the two great Fathers of the Church,
St. Jerome and St. Augustine. The former refers to him in his Commentary on the 36th chapter
of Ezekiel as "our friend Severus." St. Augustine, again, having occasion to allude to him in
his 205th letter, describes him as "a man excelling in learning and wisdom." Sulpitius belonged
to an illustrious family. He was very carefully educated, and devoted himself in his early years
to the practice of oratory. He acquired a high reputation at the bar ; but, while yet in the
prime of life, he resolved to leave it, and seek, in company with some pious friends, contentment
and peace in a life of retirement and religious exercises. The immediate occasion of this resolu-
tion was the premature death of his wife, whom he had married at an early age, and to whom he
was deeply attached. His abandonment of the pleasures and pursuits of the world took place
about A.D. 392 ; and, notwithstanding all the entreaties and expostulations of his father, he
continued, from that date to his death, to lead a life of the strictest seclusion. Becoming a
Presbyter of the Church, he attached himself to St. Martin of Tours, for whom he ever after-
wards cherished the profoundest admiration and affection, and whose extraordinary career he has
traced with a loving pen in by far the most interesting of his works.

It is stated by some ancient writers that Sulpitius ultimately incurred the charge of heresy,
having, to some extent, embraced Pelagian opinions. And there have not been wanting those in
modern times who thought they could detect traces of such errors in his works. But it seems to
us that there is no ground for any such conclusion. Sulpitius constantly presents himself to us
as a most strenuous upholder of " catholic " or " orthodox " doctrines. It is evident that his
whole heart was engaged in the love and maintenance of these doctrines : he counts as his
"friends" those only who consistently adhered to them; and, while by no means in favor of
bitterly prosecuting or severely punishing " heretics," he shrunk with abhorrence from all thought
of communion with them. Perhaps the most striking impression we receive from a perusal of
his writings is his sincerity. We may often feel that he is over-credulous in his acceptance of the
miraculous ; and we may lament his narrowness in clinging so tenaciously to mere ecclesiastical
formulae ; but we are always impressed with the genuineness of his convictions, and with his
fervent desire to bring what he believed to be truth under the attention of his readers.

The style of Sulpitius is, upon the whole, marked by a considerable degree of classical purity
and clearness. He has been called " the Christian Sallust," and there are not a few obvious
resemblances between the two writers. But some passages occur in Sulpitius which are almost,
if not entirely, unintelligible. This is owing partly to the uncertainty of the text, and partly to
the use of terms which had sprung up since classical times, and the exact import of which it is
impossible to determine. In executing our version of this author (now for the first time, we
believe, translated into English), we have had constantly before us the editions of Sigonius
(1609), of Hornius (1664), of Vorstius (1709), and of Halm (1866). We have also consulted
a very old French translation of the Historia Sacra, published at Rouen in 1580.

2 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

The order in which we have arranged the writings of Sulpitius is as follows : —

1. Life of St. Martin.

2. Letters (undoubted).

3. Dialogues.

4. Letters (doubtful).

5. Sacred History.

By far the most attractive of these works are those bearing on the life and achievements of
St. Martin. Sulpitius delights to return again and again to this wonderful man, and cannot find
language sufficiently strong in which to extol his merits. Hence, not only in the professed
Life, but also in the Letters and Dialogues, we have him brought very fully before us. The
reader will find near the beginning of the Vita as translated by us, a note bearing upon the
solemn asseverations of Sulpitius as to the reality of the miracles which Martin performed.

]\Iost of the Letters here given are deemed spurious by Halm, the latest editor of our author.
He has, nevertheless, included the whole of them in his edition, and we have thought it desirable
to follow his example in our translation.

The Sacred History of Sulpitius has for its object to present a compendious history of the
world from the Creation down to the year a.d. 400. The first and longer portion of the work is
simply an abridgment of the Scripture narrative. The latter part is more interesting and
valuable, as it deals with events lying outside of Scripture, and respecting which we are glad to
obtain information from all available sources. Unfortunately, however, Sulpitius is not always
a trustworthy authority. His inaccuracies in the first part of his work are very numerous, and will
be found pointed out in our version.

The following are some of the Estimates which have been formed of our author.

Paulinus, a contemporary of Sulpitius, and bishop of Nola, addressed to him about fifty letters,
in the fifth of which he thus writes : " It certainly would not have been given to thee to draw
up an account of Martin, unless by a pure heart thou hadst rendered thy mouth worthy of uttering
his sacred praises. Thou art blessed, therefore, of the Lord, inasmuch as thou hast been able, in
worthy style, and with proper feeling, to complete the history of so great a priest, and so
illustrious a confessor. Blessed, too, is he, in accordance with his merits, who has obtained a
historian worthy of his faith and of his life ; and who has become consecrated to the Divine
glory by his own virtues, and to human memory by thy narrative regarding him."

Gennadius (died a.d. 496), in his "Catalogue of illustrious men," says: "The Presbyter
Severus, whose cognomen was Sulpitius, belonged to the province of Aquitania. He was a man
distinguished both for his family and learning, and was remarkable for his love of poverty and
humility. He was also a great friend of some holy men, such as Martin, bishop of Tours, and
Paulinus, bishop of Nola ; and his works are by no means to be neglected."

In modern times, J. J. Sc'h.Iiger has said of Sulpitius, "He is the purest of all the ecclesiastical
writers." And Vossius, referring to some remarks of Baronius on Sulpitius, says : " I differ
from him (Baronius) in this, that, without sufficient care, he calls Gennadius the contemporary of
Severus, since Gennadius flourished seventy years, more or less, after Severus. For he dedicated
his book 'On Faith' (as he himself tells us) to Pope Gelasius, who became bishop of Rome in
A.D. 492. But he greatly extols the holiness of Sulpitius; and in the Roman martyrology his
memory (i.e. of Sulpitius) is celebrated on the 29th of January."

Archdeacon Farrar has recently remarked concerning Martin and Sulpitius, " Owing partly to
the eloquent and facile style of his (Martin's) biographer, Sulpicius Severus, his name was known
from Armenia to Egypt more widely than that of any other monk or bishop of his day." — Lives
of the Fathers, i. G28.

SULPITIUS SEVERUS ON THE LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

-1»-Oj0:j<>0-

PREFACE TO DESIDERIUS.

Severus to his dearest brother Desiderius
sendeth greeting. I had determined, my like-
minded brother, to keep private, and confine
within the walls of my own house, the little trea-
tise which I had written concerning the hfe of
St. Martin. I did so, as I am not gifted with
much talent, and shrank from the criticisms of
the world, lest (as I think will be the case) my
somewhat unpolished style should displease my
readers, and I should be deemed highly worthy
of general reprehension for having too boldly
laid hold of a subject which ought to have been
reserved for truly eloquent writers. But I have
not been able to refuse your request again and
again presented. For what could there be which
I would not grant in deference to your love, even
at the expense of my own modesty? However,
I have submitted the work to you on the sure
understanding that you will reveal it to no other,
having received your promise to that effect.
Nevertheless, I have my fears that you will be-
come the means of its pubhcation to the world ;
and I well know that, once issued, it can never ^
be recalled. If this shall happen, and you come
to know that it is read by some others, you will,
I trust, kindly ask the readers to attend to the
facts related, rather than the language in which
they are set forth. You will beg them not to
be offended if the style chances unpleasantly to
affect their ears, because the kingdom of God
consists not of eloquence, but faith. Let them
also bear in mind that salvation was preached
to the world, not by orators, but by fishermen,
although God could certainly have adopted the
other course, had it been advantageous. For
my part, indeed, when I first applied my mind
to writing what follows, because I thought it chs-
graceful that the excellences of so great a man
should remain concealed, I resolved with my-
self not to feel ashamed on account of sole-
cisms of language. This I did because I had
never attained to any great knowledge of such
things ; or, if I had formerly some taste of

* " Delere licebit

Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa revert;."

— Hor. Ari Poet. 389-90.

Studies of the kind, I had lost the whole of that,
through having neglected these matters for so
long a course of time. But, after all, that I may
not have in future to adopt such an irksome
mode of self-defense, the best way will be that
the book should be published, if you think right,
with the author's name suppressed. In order that
this may be done, kindly erase the title which
the book bears on its front, so that the page
may be silent; and (what is quite enough) let
the book proclaim its subject-matter, while it
tells nothing of the author.

CHAPTER I.

Reasons for writing the Life of St. Martin.

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

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

seek after eternal life than an eternal memorial,
and that, not by writing, or fighting, or philoso-
phizing, but by living a pious, holy, and religious
life. This erroneous conduct of mankind, being
enshrined in literature, has prevailed to such an
extent that it has found many who have been
emulous either of the vain philosophy or the
foolish excellence which has been celebrated.
For this reason, I think I will accomplish some-
thing well worth the necessary pains, if I write
the life of a most holy man, which shall serve in
future as an example to others ; by which, indeed,
the readers shall be roused to the pursuit of true
knowledge, and heavenly warfare, and divine
virtue. In so doing, we have regard also to our
own advantage, so that we may look for, not a
vain remembrance among men, but an eternal
reward from God. For, although we ourselves
have not lived in such a manner that we can
serve for an example to others, nevertheless, we
have made it our endeavor that he should not
remain unknown who was a man worthy of imi-
tation. I shall therefore set about writing the
life of St. Martin, and shall narrate both what
he did previous to his episcopate, and what he
performed as a bishop. At the same time, I
cannot hope to set forth all that he was or did.
Those excellences of which he alone was con-
scious are completely unknown, because, as he
did not seek for honor from men, he desired, as
much as he could accomphsh it, that his virtues
should be concealed. And even of those which
had become known to us, we have omitted a
great number, because we have judged it enough
if only the more striking and eminent should be
recorded. At the same time, I had in the inter-
ests of readers to see to it that, no undue amount
of instances being set before them should make
them weary of the subject. But I implore those
who are to read what follows to give full faith to
the things narrated, and to believe that I liave
written nothing of which I had not certain
knowledge and evidence. I should, in fact,
have preferred to be silent rather than to narrate
things which are false.^

' This is a remarkable asseveration in view of the many miracu-
lous accounts which follow. When we remember, on the one hand,
how intimate Sulpitius was with St. Martin, and how strongly, as
in this passage, he avouches the truth of all he narrates, it is ex-
tremely diflicult to decide as to the real value of his narrative. It
has been said (Smith's Diet. 11. 967) that Sulpitius' Life of St.
Martinus is " filled with the most puerile fables," and undoubtedly
many of the stories recorded are of that character. But whether,
considering the close relation in which the two men stood to each
other, all the miraculous accounts are to be discredited, must be
left to the judgment of the re.ider. The following valuable remarks
may be quoted on this interesting cjuestion. " Some forty years
ago," writes Dr. Cazenove, " an audience in Oxford was listening
to a professor of modern history (Dr. Arnold of Rugby), who dis-
cussed this subject. After pointing out the difference between the
Gospel miracles and those recorded by ecclesiastical historians, the
lecturer proceeded as follows: ' Some appear to be unable to con-
ceive of belief or unbelief, except as having some ulterior object:
" We believe this because we love it; wc disbelieve it because we
wish it to be disproved." There is, however, in minds more health-
fully constituted a belief and a disbelief, founded solely upon the
evidence of the case, arising neither out of partiality, nor out of
prejudice against the supposed conclusions, which may result from

CHAPTER II.

Military Service of St. Martin.

M.^RTiN, then, was born at Sabaria^ in Pan-
nonia, but was brought up at Ticinum,- which is
situated in Italy. His parents were, according
to the judgment of the world, of no mean rank,
but were heathens. His father was at first sim-
ply a soldier, but afterwards a military tribune.
He himself in his youth following military pur-
suits was enrolled in the imperial guard, first
under king Constantine, and then under Julian
Ceesar. This, however, was not done of his own
free will, for, almost from his earliest years, the
holy infancy of the illustrious boy aspired rather
to the service of God.^ For, when he was of
the age of ten years, he betook himself, against
the wish of his parents, to the Church, and
begged that he might become a catechumen.
Soon afterwards, becoming in a wonderful man-
ner completely devoted to the ser\dce of God,
when he was twelve years old, he desired to en-
ter on the life of a hermit ; and he would have
followed up that desire with the necessary vows,
had not his as yet too youthful age prevented.
His mind, however, being always engaged on
matters pertaining to the monasteries or the
Church, already meditated in his boyish years
what he afterwards, as a professed servant of

its truth or falsehood. And in such a spirit the historical student
will consider the case of Bedc's and other historians' miracles. He
will, I think, as a general rule, disbelieve them; for the immense
multitude which he finds recorded, and which, 1 suppose, no credu-
lity could believe in, shows sufficiently that on this point there was
a total want of judgment and a blindness of belief generally existing
which make the testimony wholly insufficient; and, while the ex-
ternal evidence in favor of these alleged miracles is so unsatisfactory,
there are, for the most part, strong internal evidence against them.
But with regard to some miracles, he will see that there is no strong
a />'/(;r/ improbability in their occurrence, but rather the contrary;
as, for instance, when the first missionaries of the Gospel in a bar-
barous country are said to have been assisted by a manifestation of
the spirit of power; and, if the evidence appears to warrant his
belief, he will readily and gladly yield it. And in doing so he will
have the countenance of a great man (Burke) who in his fragment
of English history has not hesitated to express the same sentiments.
Nor will he be unwilling, but most thankful, to find sufficient
grounds for believing that not only at the beginning of the Gospel,
but in ages long afterwards, believing prayer has received extraor-
dinary answers; that it has been heard even in more than it might
have dared to ask for. Yet, again, if the gift of faith — the gift as
distinguished from the grace — of the faith which removes moun-
tains, has been given to any in later times in remarkable measure,
the mighty works which such faith may have wrought cannot be
incredible in themselves to those who remember our Lord's promise,
and if it appears from satisfactory evidence that they were wrought
actually, we shall believe them, — and believe with joy. Only as it
is in most cases impossible to admit the trustworthiness of the evi-
dence, our minds must remain at the most in a state of suspense;
and I do not know why it is necessary to come to any positive decis-
ion.'"— "The Fathers for English Readers": Si. Hilary of Poi-
tiers and St. Martin of Tours, p. 191.

On this subject it has lately been said: " Most, if not all, of the
so-called miracles which were supposed to surround Martin with a
blaze of glory were either absolutely and on the face of them false;
or were gross exaggerations of natural events; or were subjective
impressions clothed in objective images; or were the distortions of
credulous rumor; or at the best cannot claim in their favor a
single particle of trustworthy evidence. They cannot be narrated
as though they were actual events. Martin was an eminent bishop,
but half of the wonderful deeds attributed to him are unworthy and
absurd." — Farrar's Li'ics of tlie Fathers, L 644.

' Sarwar. ^ Pavia.

^ The text is here corrupt and uncertain, but the general mean-
ing is plain to the above effect. Hahn has adopted " divinam ser-
vitutem," instead of the common " diviua servitute."

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

Christ, fulfilled. But when an edict was issued
by the ruling powers'* in the state, that the sons
of veterans should be enrolled for military ser-
vice, and he, on the information furnished by his
father, (who looked with an evil eye on his blessed
actions) having been seized and put in chains,
when he was fifteen years old, was compelled to
take the military oath, then showed himself con-
tent with only one servant as his attendant. And
even to him, changing places as it were, he often
acted as though, while really master, he had been
inferior ; to such a degree that, for the most
part, he drew off his [servant's] boots and cleaned
them with his own hand ; while they took their
meals together, the real master, however, gener-
ally acting the part of servant. During nearly
three years before his baptism, he was engaged
in the profession of arms, but he kept completely
free from those vices in which that class of men
become too frequently involved. He showed
exceeding kindness towards his fellow-soldiers,
and held them in wonderful affection ; while his
patience and humility surpassed what seemed
possible to human nature. There is no need to
praise the self-denial which he displayed : it was
so great that, even at that date, he was regarded
not so much as being a soldier as a monk. By
all these qualities he had so endeared himself to
the whole body of his comrades, that they es-
teemed him while they marvelously loved him.
Although not yet made a new creature ^ in Christ,
he, by his good works, acted the part of a can-
didate for baptism. This he did, for instance,
by aiding those who were in trouble, by furnish-
ing assistance to the wretched, by supporting the
needy, by clothing the naked, while he reserved
nothing for himself from his military pay except
what was necessary for his daily sustenance.
Even then, far from being a senseless hearer of
the Gospel, he so far complied with its precepts
as to take no thought about the morrow.

CHAPTER III.

Christ appears to St. Martin.

Accordingly, at a certain period, when he
had nothing except his arms and his simple
military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter
which had shown itself more severe than ordi-
nary, so that the extreme cold was proving fatal
to many, he happened to meet at the gate of

* Sulpitius uses reges instead of the more common expression
itnperatorcs.

^ Sulpitius manifestly refers to baptism in these words. How-
ever mistakenly, several others of the early Fathers held that regen-
eration does not take place before baptism, and that baptism is, in
fact, absolutely necessary to regeneration. St. Ambrose has the
following strong statement on the subject: "Credit catechumenus;
sed nisi baptizetur, remissionem peccatorum non potest obtinere."
— Libri de his, qui iniiiantur mysteriis, chap. 4.

the city of Amiens ^ a poor man destitute of
clothing. He was entreating those that passed
by to have compassion upon him, but all passed
the wretched man without notice, when Martin,
that man full of God, recognized that a being to
whom others showed no pity, was, in that re-
spect, left to him. Yet, what should he do?
He had nothing except the cloak in which he
was clad, for he had already parted with the
rest of his garments for similar purposes. Tak-
ing, therefore, his sword with which he was girt,
he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and
gave one part to the poor man, while he again
clothed himself with the remainder. Upon this,
some of the by-standers laughed, because he
was now an unsightly object, and stood out as
but partly dressed. Many, however, who were
of sounder understanding, groaned deeply be-
cause they themselves had done nothing similar.
They especially felt this, because, being pos-
sessed of more than Martin, they could have
clothed the poor man without reducing them-
selves to nakedness. In the following night,
when Martin had resigned himself to sleep, he
had a vision of Christ arrayed in that part of his
cloak with which he had clothed the poor man.
He contemplated the Lord with the greatest
attention, and was told to own as his the robe
which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus
saying with a clear voice to the multitude of
angels standing round — " Martin, who is still
but a catechumen, clothed - me with this robe."
The Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who
had said when on earth — "Inasmuch^ as ye
have done these things to one of the least of
these, ye have done them unto me), declared
that he himself had been clothed in that poor
man ; and to confirm the testimony he bore to
so good a deed, he condescended to show him
himself in that very dress which the poor man had
received. After this vision the sainted man was
not puffed up with human glory, but, acknowledg-
ing the goodness of God in what had been done,
and being now of the age of twenty years, he
hastened to receive baptism. He did not, how-
ever, all at once, retire from military service,
yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom he
admitted to be his familiar tent-companion.'* For
the tribune promised that, after the period of
his office had expired, he too would retire from
the world. Martin, kept back by the expecta-
tion of this event, continued, although but in
name, to act the part of a soldier, for nearly two
years after he had received baptism.

1 The place here called by Sulpitius " Ambianensium civitas "
was also known as " Samarobriva," and is supposed to be the modern
Amiens. ^ St. Matt. xxv. 40.

' There is a peculiar use of guamdiii in the old Latin rendering
of the passage here quoted. It is used as an equivalent for the
Greek e'i' b<Toi', no doubt with the meaning " inasmuch as."

* Comp. Tacitus, Agric. chap. 5, " electus, quern contubemio
aestimaret."

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

CHAPTER IV.

Martin retires from Military Service.

L\ the meantime, as the barbarians were
rushing within the two divisions of -Gaul, Ju-
lian Caesar/ bringing an army together at the
city- of tlie Vaugiones, began to distribute a
donative to the soldiers. As was the custom in
such a case, they were called forward, one by
one, until it came to the turn of Martin. Then,
indeed, judging it a suitable opportunity for
seeking his discharge — for he did not think it
would be proper for him, if he were not to con-
tinue in the service, to receive a donative — he
said to Caesar, " Hitherto I have served you as
a soldier : allow me now to become a soldier
to God : let the man who is to serve thee re-
ceive thy donative : I am the soldier of Christ :
it is not lawful for me to fight." Then truly the
tyrant stormed on hearing such words, declaring
that, from fear of the battle, which was to take
place on the morrow, and not from any religious
feeling, Martin withdrew from the service. But
Martin, full of courage, yea all the more reso-
lute from the danger that had been set before
him, exclaims, " If this conduct of mine is
ascribed to cowardice, and not to faith, I will
take my stand unarmed before the line of battle
to-morrow, and in the name of the Lord Jesus,
protected by the sign of the cross, and not by
shield or helmet, I will safely penetrate the
ranks of the enemy." He is ordered, therefore,
to be thrust back into prison, determined on
proving his words true by exposing himself wn-
armed to the barbarians. But, on the following
day, the enemy sent ambassadors to treat about
peace and surrendered both themselves and all
their possessions. In these circumstances who
can doubt that this victory was due to the saintly
man ? It was granted him that he should not
be sent unarmed to the fight. And although
the good Lord could have preserved his own
soldier, even amid the swords and darts of the
enemy, yet that his blessed eyes might not be
pained by witnessing the death of others, he
removed all necessity for fighting. For Christ
did not require to secure any other victory in
behalf of his own soldier, than that, the enemy
being subdued without bloodshed, no one should
suffer death.

CHAFFER V.

Martin cotiverts a Robber to the Faith.

From that time quitting military service,
Martin earnestly sought after the society of

> Commonly known as Julian the Apostate.

- This rity was called Borbetomagus, and is represented by the
modern [Vorms.

Hilarius, bishop of the city Pictava/ whose faith
in the things of God was then regarded as of
high renown, and in universal esteem. For
some time Martin made his abode with him.
Now, this same Hilarius, having instituted him
in the ofiice of the diaconate, endeavored still
more closely to attach him to himself, and to
bind him by leading him to take part in Divine
service. But when he constantly refused, cry-
ing out that he was unworthy, Hilarius, as being
a man of deep penetration, perceived that he
could only be constrained in this way, if he
should lay that sort of office upon him, in dis-
charging which there should seem to be a kind
of injury done him. He therefore appointed
him to be an exorcist. Martin did not refuse
this appointment, from the fear that he might
seem to have looked down upon it as somewhat
humble. Not long after this, he was warned in
a dream that he should visit his native land, and
more particularly his parents, who were still in-
volved in heathenism, with a regard for their
religious interests. He set forth in accordance
with the expressed wish of the holy Hilarius,
and, after being adjured by him with many
prayers and tears, that he would in due time re-
turn. According to report Martin entered on
that journey in a melancholy frame of mind,
after calling the brethren to witness that many
sufferings lay before him. The result fully
justified this prediction. For, first of all, hav-
ing followed some devious paths among the
Alps, he fell into the hands of robbers. And
when one of them lifted up his axe and poised
it above Martin's head, another of them met
with his right hand the blow as it fell ; never-
theless, having had his hands bound behind his
back, he was handed over to one of them to be
guarded and stripped. The robber, having led
him to a private place apart from the rest, began
to enquire of him who he was. Upon this,
Martin replied that he was a Christian. The
robber next asked him whether he was afraid.
Then indeed Martin most courageously replied
that he never before had felt so safe, because he
knew that the mercy of the Lord would be es-
pecially present with him in the midst of trials.
He added that he grieved rather for the man in
whose hands he was, because, by living a life of
robbery, he was showing himself unworthy of the
mercy of Christ. And then entering on a dis-
course concerning Evangelical truth, he preached
the word of God to the robber, "\^'hy should I
delay stating the result ? The robber believed ;
and, after expressing his respect for Martin, he
restored him to the way, entreating him to pray
the Lord for him. That same robber was after-

' This was a city of the Pictones (or Pictavi) who are mentioned
by Caesar. Hell Gall, iii ii. Their territory corresponded to the
I modern diocese of Poitiers.

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

wards seen leading a religious life ; so that, in
fact, the narrative I have given above is based
upon an account furnished by himself.

CHAPTER VI.
Tlie Devil throws himself in the Way of Martin.

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

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

' Comp. Ps. cxviii. 6.

- An isla^id near Albium Ingaunum — the modern AUenga, on
the Gulf of Genoa. The island was so named from abounding in
fowls in a half-tamed state. It still bears the name of Gallinaria.

to holy Hilarius, he made an effort to meet him
at Rome, and, with this view, set out for that
city.

CHAPTER VII.

Martin 7-esiores a Catechumen to Life.

As Hilarius had already gone away, so Martin
followed in his footsteps ; and having been most
joyously welcomed by him, he established for
himself a monastery not far from the town. At
this time a certain catechumen joined him, being
desirous of becoming instructed in the doctrines \
and habits of the most holy man. But, after the
lapse only of a few days, the catechumen, seized
with a languor, began to suffer from a violent
fever. It so happened that Martin had then left
home, and having remained away three days, he
found on his return that life had departed from
the catechumen ; and so suddenly had death oc-
curred, that he had left this world without re-
ceiving baptism. The body being laid out in
public was being honored by the last sad offices
on the part of the mourning brethren,, when
Martin hurries up to them with tears and lamen-
tations. But then laying hold, as it were, of the
Holy Spirit, with the whole powers of his mind,
he orders the others to quit the cell in which
the body was lying ; and bolting the door, he
stretches himself at full length on the dead limbs
of the departed brother. Having given himself
for some time to earnest prayer, and percei\«ing
by means of the Spirit of God that power was
present,- he then rose up for a little, and gazing
on the countenance of the deceased, he waited
without misgiving for the result of his prayer
and of the mercy of the Lord. And scarcely
had the space of two hours elapsed, when he saw
the dead man begin to move a little in all his
members, and to tremble with his eyes opened
for the practice of sight. Then indeed, turning
to the Lord with a loud voice and giving thanks,
he filled the cell with his ejaculations. Hearing
the noise, those who had been standing at the
door immediately rush inside. And truly a mar-
velous spectacle met them, for they beheld the
man alive whom they had formerly left dead.
Thus being restored to life, and having immedi-
ately obtained baptism, he lived for many years
afterwards ; and he was the first who offered
himself to us both as a subject that had experi-
enced the virtues ^ of Martin, and as a witness
to their existence. The same man was wont to
relate that, when he left the body, he was brought
before the tribunal of the Judge, and being as-
signed to gloomy regions and vulgar crowds, he

1 All this seems to be implied in the words " institui disciplinis."
^ " adesse virtutem."

' Or " powers " according to the use of the Greek word hvvo.y.i.'i
in St. Luke viii. 46.

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

received a severe * sentence. Then, however, he
added, it was suggested by two angels of the
Judge that he was the man for whom Martin
was praying ; and that, on this account, he was
ordered to be led back by the same angels, and
given up to Martin, and restored to his former
life. From this time forward, the name of the
sainted man became illustrious, so that, as being
reckoned holy by all, he was also deemed pow-
erful and truly apostolical.

CHAPTER VIII.

Martin restores one that had been strangled.

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

CHAPTER IX.

High Esteem in luhich Marti 71 was held.

Nearly about the same time, Martin was
called upon to undertake the episcopate of the
church at Tours ; ' but when he could not
easily be drawn forth from his monastery, a
certain Ruricius, one of the citizens, pretending
that his wife was ill, and casting himself down
at his knees, prevailed on him to go forth.
Multitudes of the citizens having previously been
posted by the road on which he traveled, he is
thus under a kind of guard escorted to the city.
An incredible number of people not only from
that town, but also from the neighboring cities,
had, in a wonderful manner, assembled to give

* Here again it is to be noted what fatal consequences were sup-
posed to flow from dying without receiving baptism.

1 The Turones occupied territory on both sides of the river
Loire. Caesar refers to them {BclL Gall. ii. 35, &c.). Their chief
town was named Caesarodunum, the modern Tours.

their votes.- There was but one wish among all,
there were the same prayers, and there was the
same fixed opinion to the effect that Martin was
most worthy of the episcopate, and that the
church would be happy with such a priest. A
few persons, however, and among these some of
the bishops, who had been summoned to appoint
a chief priest, were impiously offering resistance,
asserting forsooth that Martin's person was con-
temptible, that he was unworthy of the episco-
pate, that he was a man despicable in counte-
nance, that his clothing was mean, and his hair
disgusting. This madness of theirs was ridiculed
by the people of sounder judgment, inasmuch as
such objectors only proclaimed the illustrious
character of the man, while they sought to
slander him. Nor truly was it allowed them to
do anything else, than what the people, follow-
ing the Divine will, desired^ to be accomplished.
Among the bishops, however, who had been
present, a certain one of the name Defensor is
said to have specially offered opposition ; and
on this account it was observed that he was at
the time severely censured in the reading from
the prophets. For when it so happened that the
reader, whose duty it was to read in public
that day, being blocked out by the people,
failed to appear, the officials falling into con-
fusion, while they waited for him who never
came, one of those standing by, laying hold of
the Psalter, seized upon the first verse which
presented itself to him. Now, the Psalm ran
thus : " Out of the mouth of babes and suck-
lings thou hast perfected praise because of thine
enemies, that thou mightest destroy the enemy
and the avenger."^ On these words being read,
a shout was raised by the people, and the oppo-
site party were confounded. It was believed
that this Psalm had been chosen by Divine
ordination, that Defensor^ might hear a testi-
mony to his own work, because the praise of the
Lord was perfected out of the mouth of babes
and sucklings in the case of Martin, while the
enemy was at the same time both pointed out
and destroyed.

CHAPTER X.

Martin as Bishop of Tours.

And now having entered on the episcopal
office, it is beyond my power fully to set forth
how Martin distinguished himself in the dis-
charge of its duties. For he remained with the
utmost constancy, the same as he had been

2 It is clear from this passage that the people' at large were
accustomed in ancient times to give their votes on the appointment
of a bishop.

^ We here adopt Halm's reading " cogitabat," in preference to
the usual " cogebat." * Ps. viii. 3.

^ The word translated "avenger" in the English A. V. is " de-
fensor" in the Vulgate, and thus the man referred to would have
seemed to be expressly named.

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

before. There was the same humility in his
heart, and the same homeliness in his garments.
Full alike of dignity and courtesy, he kept .up
the position of a bishop properly, yet in such a
way as not to lay aside the objects and virtues
of a monk. Accordingly he made use, for some
time, of the cell connected with the church ;
but afterwards, when he felt it impossible to
tolerate the disturbance caused by the numbers
,' of those visiting it, he established a monastery
for himself about two miles outside the city.
This spot was so secret and retired that he en-
joyed in it the solitude of a hermit. For, on
one side, it was surrounded by a precipitous
rock of a lofty mountain, while the river Loire
had shut in the rest of the plain by a bay ex-
tending back for a little distance ; and the place
could be approached only by one, and that a
very narrow passage. Here, then, he possessed
a cell constructed of wood. Many also of the
brethren had, in the same manner, fashioned re-
treats for themselves, but most of them had
formed these out of the rock of the overhanging
mountain, hollowed into caves. There were
altogether eighty disciples, who were being dis-
ciphned after the example of the saintly master.
No one there had anything which was called his
own ; all things were possessed in common. It
was not allowed either to buy or to sell anything,
as is the custom among most monks. No art
was practiced there, except that of transcribers,
and even this was assigned to the brethren of
younger years, while the elders spent their time
in prayer. Rarely did any one of them go be-
yond the cell, unless when they assembled at
the place of prayer. They all took their food
together, after the hour of fasting was past. No
one used wine, except when illness compelled
them to do so. Most of them were clothed in
garments of camels' hair.^ Any dress approach-
ing to softness ^ was there deemed criminal, and
this must be thought the more remarkable, be-
cause many among them were such as are
deemed of noble rank. These, though far dif-
ferently brought up, had forced themselves down
to this degree of humility and patient endurance,
and we have seen numbers of these afterwards
made bishops. For what city or church would
there be that would not desire to have its priests
from among those in the monastery of Martin ?

CHAPTER XI.

Martin demolishes an Altar cotisecrated to a

Robber.

But let me proceed to a description of other

' Cf. St. Matt. iii. 4.

' In St. Matt. xi. 8, there is a reference to those " that wear soft
clothing," — oi TO fj-aKaKo. (j>opovvTii.

excellences which Martin displayed as a bishop.
There was, not far from the town, a place very
close to the monastery, which a false human
opinion had consecrated, on the supposition that
some martyrs had been buried together there.
For it was also believed that an altar had been
placed there by former bishops. But Martin,
not inclined to give a hasty belief to things un-
certain, often asked from those who were his
elders, whether among the presbyters or clerics,
that the name of the martvr, or the time when
he suffered, should be made known to him. He
did so, he said, because he had great scruples
on these points, inasmuch as no steady tradition
respecting them had come down from antiquity.
Having, therefore, for a time kept away from
the place, by no means wishing to lessen the
religious veneration with which it was regarded,
because he was as yet uncertain, but, at the
same time not lending his authority to the
opinion of the multitude, lest a mere supersti-
tion should obtain a firmer footing, he one day
went out to the place, taking a few brethren
with him as companions. There standing above
the very sepulchre, Martin prayed to the Lord
that he would reveal who the man in question
was, and what was his character or desert. Next
turning to the left-hand side, he sees standing
very near a shade of a mean and cruel appear-
ance. Martin commands him to tell his name
and character. Upon this, he declares his name,
and confesses his guilt. He says that he had
been a robber, and that he was beheaded on
account of his crimes ; that he had been hon-
ored simply by an error of the multitude ; that
he had nothing in common with the martyrs,
since glory was their portion, while punishment
exacted its penalties from him. Those who
stood by heard, in a wonderful way, the voice
of the speaker, but they beheld no person.
Then Martin made known what he had seen,
and ordered the altar which had been there to
be removed, and thus he delivered the people
from the error of that superstition.

CHAPTER XII.

Martin causes the Bearers of a Dead Body to

stop.

Now, it came to pass some time after the
above, that while Martin was going a journey,
he met the body of a certain heathen, which was
being carried to the tomb with superstitious fu-
neral rites. Perceiving from a distance the crowd
that was approaching, and being ignorant as to
what was going on, he stood still for a little
while. For there was a distance of nearly half
a mile between him and the crowd, so that it

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

was difficult to discover what the spectacle he
beheld really was. Nevertheless, because he
saw it was a rustic gathering, and when the linen
clothes spread over the body were blown about
by the action of the wind, he believed that some
profane rites of sacrifice were being performed.
This thought occurred to him, because it was the
custom of the Gallic rustics in their wretched
folly to carry about through the fields the im-
ages of deiTions veiled with a white covering.
Lifting up, therefore, the sign of the cross oppo-
site to them, he commanded the crowd not to
move from the place in which they were, and to
set down the burden. Upon this, the miserable
creatures might have been seen at first to be-
come stiff like rocks. Next, as they endeavored,
with every possible effort, to move forward, but
were not able to take a step farther, they began
to whirl themselves about in the most ridiculous
fashion, until, not able any longer to sustain the
weight, they set down the dead body. Thunder-
struck, and gazing in bewilderment at each other,
as not knowing what had happened to them,
they remained sunk in silent thought. But when
the saintly man discovered that they were simply
a band of peasants celebrating funeral rites, and
not sacrifices to the gods, again raising his hand,
he gave them the power of going away, and of
lifting up the body. Thus he both compelled
them to stand when he pleased, and permitted
them to depart when he thought good.

CHAPTER XIII.

Martin escapes from a Falling Pine-tree.

Again, when in a certain village he had de-
molished a very ancient temple, and had set
about cutting down a pine-tree, which stood
close to the temple, the chief priest of that place,
and a crowd of other heathens began to oppose
him. And these people, though, under the in-
fluence of the Lord, they had been quiet while
the temple was being overthrown, could not
patiently allow the tree to be cut down. Martin
carefully instructed them that there was nothing
sacred in the trunk of a tree, and urged them
rather to honor God whom he himself served.
He added that there was a moral necessity why
that tree should be cut down, because it had
been dedicated to a demon. Then one of them
who was bolder than the others says, " If you
have any trust in thy God, whom you say you
worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree,
and be it your part to receive it when falling ;
for if, as you declare, your Lord is with you,
you will escape all injury." Then Martin, cour-
ageously trusting in the Lord, promises that he
would do what had been asked. Upon this, all

that crowd of heathen agreed to the condition
named ; for they held the loss of their tree a
small matter, if only they got the enemy of their
religion buried beneath its fall. Accordingly,
since that pine-tree was hanging over in one
direction, so that there was no doubt to what
side it would fall on being cut, Martin, having
been bound, is, in accordance with the decision
of these pagans, placed in that spot where, as no
one doubted, the tree was about to fall. They
began, therefore, to cut down their own tree,
with great glee and joyfulness, while there was
at some distance a great multitude of wondering
spectators. And now the pine-tree began to
totter, and to threaten its ^ own ruin by falling.
The monks at a distance grew pale, and, terri-
fied by the danger ever coming nearer, had lost
all hope and confidence, expecting only the
death of Martin. But he, tmsting in the Lord,
and waiting courageously, when now the falling
pine had uttered its expiring crash, while it was
now falling, while it was just rushing upon him,
simply holding up his hand against it, he put in
its way the sign of salvation. Then, indeed,
after the manner of a spinning-top (one might
have thought it driven" back), it swept round
to the opposite side, to such a degree that it
almost crushed the rustics, who had taken their
places there in what was deemed a safe spot.
Then truly, a shout being raised to heaven, the
heathen were amazed by the miracle, while the
monks wept for joy ; and the name of Christ
was in common extolled by all. The well-known
result was that on that day salvation came to
that region. For there was hardly one of that
immense multitude of heathens who did not
express a desire for the imposition of hands, and
abandoning his impious errors, made a profession
of faith in the Lord Jesus. Certainly, before
the times of Martin, very few, nay, almost none,
in those regions had received the name of Christ ;
but through his virtues and example that name
has prevailed to such an extent, that now there
is no place thereabouts which is not filled either
with very crowded churches or monasteries.
For wherever he destroyed heathen temples,
there he uSed immediately to build either
churches or monasteries.

CHAFTER XIV.

Martin destroys Heathen Temples arid Altars.

Nor did he show less eminence, much about
the same time, in other transactions of a like

1 Perhaps " suam " here stands for " ejus," as in other passages
of our author. The meaning will then be, " and to threaten his
(Martin's) destruction by falling."

- It seems better to preserve the parenthesis than to translate
the words as they stand in Halm's text, "turn vero — velut tur-
binis modo retro actam putares — diversam in partem ruit."

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

1 1

kind. For, having in a certain village set fire
to a very ancient and celebrated temple, the
circle of flames was carried by the action of the
wind upon a house which was very close to, yea,
connected with, the temple. When Martin per-
ceived this, he cHmbed by rapid ascent to the
roof of the house, presenting himself in front of
the advancing flames. Then indeed might the
fire have been seen thrust back in a wonderful
manner against the force of the wind, so that
there appeared a sort of conflict of the two ele-
ments fighting together. Thus, by the influence
of Martin, the fire only acted in the place where
it was ordered to do so. But in a village which
was named Leprosum, when he too wished to
overthrow a temple which had acquired great
wealth through the superstitious ideas enter-
tained of its sanctity, a multitude of the heathen
resisted him to such a degree that he was driven
back not without bodily injury. He, therefore,
withdrew to a place in the vicinity, and there
for three days, clothed in sackcloth ^ and ashes,
fasting and praying the whole time, he besought
the Lord, that, as he had not been able to over-
throw that temple by human effort, Divine power
might be exerted to destroy it. Then two angels,
with spears and shields after the manner of heav-
enly warriors, suddenly presented themselves to
him, saying that they were sent by the Lord to
put to flight the rustic multitude, and to furnish
protection to Martin, lest, while the temple was
being destroyed, any one should offer resistance.
They told him therefore to return, and complete
the blessed work which he had begun. Accord-
ingly Martin returned to the village ; and while
the crowds of heathen looked on in perfect quiet
as he razed the pagan temple even to the foun-
dations, he also reduced all the altars and images
to dust. At this sight the rustics, when they
perceived that they had been so astounded and
terrified by an intervention of the Divine will,
that they might not be found fighting against
the bishop, almost all believed in the Lord Jesus.
They then began to cry out openly and to con-
fess that the God of Martin ought to be wor-
shiped, and that the idols should be despised,
which were not able to help them.

CHAPTER XV.

Martin offers his Neck to an Assassin.

I SHALL also relate what took place in the vil-
lage of the ^dui. When Martin was there over-
throwing a temple^ a multitude of rustic heathen
rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage. And when
one of them, bolder than the rest, made an attack

1 Literally " a covering made of Cilician goats' hair." It was
called Cilicium, and was worn by soldiers and others.

upon him with a drawn sword, Martin, throwing
back his cloak, offered his bare neck to the assas-
sin. Nor did the heathen delay to strike, but in
the very act of lifting up his right arm, he fell to
the ground on his back, and being overwhelmed
by the fear of God, he entreated for pardon.
Not unlike this was that other event which hap-
pened to Martin, that when a certain man had
resolved to wound him with a knife as he was
destroying some idols, at the very moment of
fetching the blow, the weapon was struck out of
his hands and disappeared. Very frequently, too,
when the pagans were addressing him to the
effect that he would not overthrow their temples,
he so soothed and conciliated the minds of the
heathen by his holy discourse that, the light of
truth having been revealed to them, they them-
selves overthrew their own temples.

CHAPTER XVI.

Cures effected by Si. Martin.

Moreover, the gift^ of accomplishing cures
was so largely possessed by Martin, that scarcely
any sick person came to him for assistance with-
out being at once restored to health. This will
clearly appear from the following example. A
certain girl at Treves'- was so completely pros-
trated by a terrible paralysis that for a long time
she had been quite unable to make use of her
body for any purpose, and being, as it were,
already dead, only the smallest breath of life
seemed still to remain in her. Her afflicted
relatives were standing by, expecting nothing
but her death, when it was suddenly announced
that Martin had come to that city. When the
father of the girl found that such was the case,
he ran to make a request in behalf of his all but
lifeless child. It happened that Martin had
already entered the church. There, while the
people were looking on, and in the presence of
many other bishops, the old man, uttering a cry
of grief, embraced the saint's knees and said :
" My daughter is dying of a miserable kind of
infirmity ; and, what is more dreadful than death
itself, she is now alive only in the spirit, her flesh
being already dead before the time. I beseech
thee to go to her, and give her thy blessing ; for
I believe that through you she will be restored
to health." Martin, troubled by such an address,
was bewfldered, and shrank back, saying that
this was a matter not in his own hands ; that
the old man was mistaken in the judgment he

1 The Latin vioxA gratia here corresponds to the Greek ydpio-^in.
St. Paul says much respecting the various \o.pi<iii.a.Ta. in i Cor. xii._.
and speaks, among; others, of vapiV/jiaTa ianoirwi' (v. 9).

^ The name Treveri at first denoted the people (as often ir.
Cssar, 5^//. Gnll. i. 37, &c.), and was afterwards applied to their
chief city, the modem Treves

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

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

CHAPTER XVII.
Martin casts out Several Devils.

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

About the same time, having entered the
dwelling of a certain householder in the same
town, he stopped short at the very threshold, and
said, that he perceived a horril)le demon in the
court-yard of the house. When Martin ordered
it to depart, it laid hold of a certain member of

the family, who was staying in the inner part of
the house ; and the poor wretch began at once to
rage with his teeth, and to lacerate whomsoever
he met. The house was thrown into disorder ;
the family was in confusion ; and the people
present took to flight. Martin threw himself in
the way of the frenzied creature, and first of all
commanded him to stand still. But when he
continued to gnash with his teeth, and, with
gaping mouth, was threatening to bite, Martin
inserted his fingers into his mouth, and said,
" If you possess any power, devour these." But
then, as if red-hot iron had entered his jaws,
drawing his teeth far away he took care not to
touch the fingers of the saintly man ; and when
he was compelled by punishments and tortures,
to flee out of the possessed body, while he had
no power of escaping by the mouth, he was cast
out by means of a defluxion of the belly, leaving
disgusting traces behind him.

CHAPTER XVHL
Martin performs Various Miracles.

Ix the meanwhile, as a sudden report had
troubled the city as to the movement and
inroad of the barbarians, Martin orders a pos-
sessed person to be set before him, and com-
manded him to declare whether this message
was true or not. Then he confessed that there
were sixteen demons who had spread this report
among the people, in order that by the fear thus
excited, Martin might have to flee from the city,
but that, in fact, nothing was less in the minds
of the barbarians than to make any inroad.
When the unclean spirit thus acknowledged these
things in the midst of the church, the city wxs
set free from the fear and tumult which had at
the time been felt.

At Paris, again, when Martin was entering the
gate of the city, with large crowds attending
him, he gave a kiss to a leper, of miserable ap-
pearance, while all shuddered at seeing him do
so ; and Martin blessed him, with the result
that he was instantly cleansed from all his mis-
ery. On the following day, the man appearing
in the church with a healthy skin, gave thanks
for the soundness of body which he had recov-
ered. This fact, too, ought not to be passed
over in silence, that threads from Martin's gar-
ment, or such as had been plucked from the
sackcloth which he wore, wrought frequent mir-
acles upon those who were sick. For, by either
being tied round the fingers or placed about the
neck, they very often drove away diseases from
the afflicted.

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

CHAPTER XIX.

A Letter of Martin effects a Cure, 7uith Other
Miracles.

Further, Arborius, an ex-prefect, and a man
of a very holy and faithful character, while his
daughter was in agony from the burning fever
of a quartan ague, inserted in the bosom of the
girl, at the very paroxysm of the heat, a letter
of Martin which happened to have been brought
to him, and immediately the fever was dispelled.
This event had such an influence upon Arborius,
that he at once consecrated the girl to God, and
devoted her to perpetual virginity. Then, pro-
ceeding to Martin, he presented the girl to him,
as an obvious living example of his power of
working miracles, inasmuch as she had been
cured by him though absent ; and he would not
suffer her to be consecrated by any other than
Martin, through his placing upon her the dress
characteristic of virginity.

Paulinas, too, a man who was afterwards to
furnish a striking example of the age, having be-
gun to suffer grievously in one of his eyes, and
when a pretty thick skin ^ having grown over it
had already covered up its pupil, Martin touched
his eye with a painter's brush, and, all pain
being removed, thus restored it to its former
soundness. He himself also, when, by a certain
accident, he had fallen out of an upper room,
and tumbling down a broken, uneven stair, had
received many wounds, as he lay in his cell at
the point of death, and was tortured with griev-
ous sufferings, saw in the night an angel appear
to him, who washed his wounds, and applied
healing ointment to the bruised members of his
body. As the effect of this, he found himself on
the morrow restored to soundness of health, so
that he was not thought to have suffered any
harm. But because it would be tedious to go
through everything of this kind, let these ex-
amples suffice, as a few out of a multitude ; and
let it be enough that we do not in striking cases
[of miraculous interposition] detract from the
truth, while, having so many to choose from, we
avoid exciting weariness in the reader.

CHAPTER XX.

How Martin acted towards the Emperor
Maxim us.

And here to insert some smaller matters
among things so great (although such is the
nature of our times in which all things have
fallen into decay and corruption, it is almost a
pre-eminent virtue for priestly firmness not to

have yielded to royal flattery), when a number
of bishops from various parts had assembled to
the Emperor Maximus, a man of fierce charac-
ter, and at that time elated with the victory ht
had won in the civil wars, and when the dis-
graceful flattery of all around the emperor was
generally remarked, while the priestly dignity
hadj with degenerate submissiveness, taken a
second place to the royal retinue, in Martin
alone, apostolic authority continued to assert
itself. For even if he had to make suit to the'
sovereign for some things, he commanded rather
than entreated him ; and although often invited,
he kept away from his entertainments, saying
that he could not take a place at the table of
one who, out of two emperors, had deprived
one of his kingdom, and the other of his life.
At last, when Maximus maintained that he had
not of his own accord assumed the sovereignty,
but that he had simply defended by arms the
necessary requirements ^ of the empire, regard to
which had been imposed upon him by the sol-
diers, according to the Divine appointment, and
that the favor of God did not seem wanting to
him who, by an event seemingly so incredible,
had secured the victory, adding to that the
statement that none of his adversaries had been
slain except in the open field of battle, at
length, Martin, overcome either by his reasoning
or his entreaties, came to the royal banquet.
The king was wonderfully pleased because he
had gained this point. Moreover, there were
guests present who had been invited as if to a
festival ; men of the highest and most illustrious
rank, — the prefect, who was also consul, named
Evodius, one of the most righteous men that
ever lived ; two courtiers possessed of the great-
est power, the brother and uncle of the king,
while between these two, the presbyter of Mar-
tin had taken his place ; but he himself occupied
a seat which was set quite close to the king.
About the middle of the banquet, according to
custom, one of the servants presented a goblet
to the king. He orders it rather to be given to
the very holy bishop, expecting and hoping that
he should then receive the cup from his right
hand. But Martin, when he had drunk, handed
the goblet to his own presbyter, as thinking no
one worthier to drink next to himself, and hold-
ing that it would not be right for him to prefer
either the king himself, or those who were next
the king, to the presbyter. And the emperor,
as well as all those who were then present, ad-
mired this conduct so much, that this very thing,
by which they had been undervalued, gave them
pleasure. The report then ran through the
whole palace that Martin had done, at the
king's dinner, what no bishop had dared to do

1 " Nubes," lit. " a cloud.

1 " Regni necessitatem " — an awkward expression.

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

at the banquets of the lowest judges. And
Martin predicted to the same Maximus long
before, that if he went into Italy to which he
then desired to go, waging war, against the
Emperor Valentinianus, it would come to pass
that he should know he would- indeed be victo-
rious in the first attack, but would perish a short
time afterwards. And we have seen that this
did in fact take place. For, on his first arrival,
Valentinianus had to betake himself to flight ;
but recovering his strength about a year after-
wards, Maximus was taken and slain by him
within the walls of Aquileia.

CHAPTER XXI.

Martin has to do both with Angels and Devils.

It is also well known that angels were very
often seen by him, so that they spoke in turns
with him in set speech. As to the devil, Martin
held him so visible and ever under the power of
his eyes, that whether he kept himself in his
proper form, or changed himself into different
shapes of spiritual wickedness, he was perceived
by Martin, under whatever guise he appeared.
The devil knew well that he could not escape
discovery, and therefore frequently heaped in-
sults upon Martin, being unable to beguile him
by trickery. On one occasion the devil, hold-
ing in his hand the bloody horn of an ox,
rushed into Martin's cell with great noise, and
holding out to him his bloody right hand, while
at the same time he exulted in the crime he
had committed, said : " Where, O Martin, is thy
power? I have just slain one of your people."
Then Martin assembled the brethren, and related
to them what the devil had disclosed, while he
ordered them carefully to search the several
cells in order to discover who had been visited
with this calamity. They report that no one of
the monks was missing, but that one peasant,
hired by them, had gone to the forest to bring
home wood in his wagon. Upon hearing this,
Martin instructs some of them to go and meet
him. On their doing so, the man was found
almost dead at no great distance from the mon-
astery. Nevertheless, although just drawing his
last breath, he made known to the brethren the
cause of his wound and death. He said that,
while he was drawing tighter the thongs which
had got loose on the oxen yoked together, one
of the oxen, throwing his head free, had wounded
him with his horn in the groin. And not long
after the man expired. You ' see with what
judgment of the Lord this power was given to
the devil. This was a marvelous feature in

- There is considerable confusion in this sentence.
1 Halm reads the imperative " videris," " consider."

Martin that not only on this occasion to wliich
I have specially referred, but on many occasions
of the same kind, in fact as often as such things
occurred, he perceived them long beforehand,
and ^ disclosed the things which had been re-
vealed to him to the brethren.

CHAPTER XXIL

Martin preaches Repentance even to the Devil.

Now, the devil, while he tried to impose upon
the holy man by a thousand injurious arts, often
thrust himself upon him in a visible form, but in
very various shapes. For sometimes he pre-
sented himself to his view changed into the per-
son of Jupiter, often into that of Mercury and
Minerva. Often, too, were heard words of re-
proach, in which the crowd of demons assailed
Martin with scurrilous expressions. But know-
ing that all were false and groundless, he was
not affected by the charges brought against him.
Moreover, some of the brethren bore witness
that they had heard a demon reproaching Mar-
tin in abusive terms, and asking why he had
taken back, on their subsequent repentance,
certain of the brethren who had, some time
previously, lost their baptism by falling into
various errors. The demon set forth the crimes
of each of them ; but they added that Martin,
resisting the devil firmly, answered him, that
by-past sins are cleansed away by the leading
of a better life, and that through the mercy of
God, those are to be absolved from their sins
who have given up their evil ways. The devil
saying in opposition to this that such guilty men
as those referred to did not come within the
pale of pardon, and that no mercy was extended
by the Lord to those who had once fallen away,
Martin is said to have cried out in words to the
following effect : " If thou, thyself, wretched
being, wouldst but desist from attacking mankind,
and even, at this period, when the day of judg-
ment is at hand, wouldst only repent of your
deeds, I, with a true confidence in the Lord,
would promise you the mercy of Christ." ' O
what a holy boldness with respect to the loving-
kindness of the Lord, in which, although he
could not assert authority, he nevertheless showed
the feelings dwelling within him ! And since
our discourse has here sprung up concerning
the devil and his devices, it does not seem away
from the point, although the matter does not

* Halm reads "aut sibi nuntiata fratribus indicabat."
' This is a truly noteworthy passage. It anticipates a well-
known sentiment of Burns, the national bard of Scotland. In his
AJdrt'ss to the Dci!, Burns has said that if the great enemy would
only " tak a thocht an' men'," he might still have a chance of safety,
.Tnd this idea .seems very much in accordance with the opinion of
St. Martin as expressed above. Hornius, hiwevcr, is ver>' indig-
nant on account of it, and e.\claims: " Intolerabilis hie Martini
error. Nee .Sulpicius e.xcusatione sua demit, sed auget. Orig<"nes
primus ejus erroris author."

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

bear immediately upon Martin, to relate what
took place ; both because the virtues of Martin
do, to some extent, appear in the transaction,
and the incident, wliich was worthy of a miracle,
will properly be put on record, with the view of
furnishing a caution, should anything of a similar
character subsequently occur.

CHAPTER XXIII.

A Case of Diabolic Deception.

There was a certain man, Clarus by name, a
most noble youth, who afterwards became a
presbyter, and who is now, through his happy
departure from this world, numbered among the
saints. He, leaving all others, betook himself
to Martin, and in a short time became distin-
guished for the most exalted faith, and for all
sorts of excellence. Now, it came to pass that,
when he had erected an abode for himself not
far from the monastery of the bishop, and many
brethren were staying with him, a certain youth,
Anatolius by name, having, under the profession
of a monk, falsely assumed every appearance of
humility and innocence, came to him, and lived
for some time on the common store along with
the rest. Then, as time went or\, he began to
afifirm that angels were in the habit of talking
with him. As no one gave any credit to his
words, he urged a number of the brethren to
believe by certain signs. At length he went to
such a length as to declare that angels passed
between him and God ; and now he wished that
he should be regarded as one of the prophets.
Clarus, however, could by no means be induced
to beUeve. He then began to threaten Clarus
with the anger of God and present afflictions,
because he did not believe one of the saints.
At the last, he is related to have burst forth with
the following declaration : " Behold, the Lord
will this night give me a white robe out of
heaven, clothed in which, I will dwell in the
midst of you ; and that will be to you a sign
that I am the Power of God, inasmuch as I
have been presented with the garment of God."
Then truly the expectation of all was highly
raised by this profession. Accordingly, about the
middle of the night, it was seen, by the noise of
people moving eagerly about, that the whole
monastery in the place was excited. It might
be seen, too, that the cell in which the young
man referred to lived was glittering with numer-
ous lights ; and the whisperings of those moving
about in it, as well as a kind of murmur of many
voices, could be heard. Then, on silence being
secured, the youth coming forth calls one of the
brethren, Sabatius by name, to himself, and shows
him the robe in which he had been clothed. He

again, filled with amazement, gathers the rest
together, and Clarus himself also runs up ; and
a light being obtained, they all carefully inspect
the garment. Now, it was of the utmost soft-
ness, of marvelous brightness, and of glittering
purple, and yet no one could discover what was
its nature, or of what sort of fleece it had been
formed. However, when it was more minutely
examined by the eyes or fingers, it seemed nothing
else than a garment. In the meantime, Clarus
urges upon the brethren to be earnest in prayer,
that the Lord would show them more clearly
what it really was. Accordingly, the rest of the
night was spent in singing hymns and psalms.
But when day broke, Clarus wished to take the
young man by the hand, and bring him to Mar-
tin, being well aware that he could not be de-
ceived by any arts of the devil. Then, indeed,
the miserable man began to resist and refuse,
and affirmed that he had been forbidden to show
himself to Martin. And when they compelled
him to go against his will, the garment vanished
from among the hands of those who were con-
ducting him. Wherefore, who can doubt that
this, too, was an illustration of the power of
Martin, so that the devil could no longer dis-
semble or conceal his own deception, when it
was to be submitted to the eyes of Martin?

CHAPTER XXIV.

Martin is tempted by the Wiles of the Devil.

It was found, again, that about the same time
there was a young man in Spain, who, having by
many signs obtained for himself authority among
the people, was puffed up to such a pitch that
he gave himself out as being Elias. And when
multitudes had too readily believed this, he went
on to say that he was actually Christ ; and he
succeeded so well even in this delusion that a
certain bishop named Rufus worshiped him as
being the Lord. For so doing, we have seen
this bishop at a later date deprived of his office.
Many of the brethren have also informed me
that at the same time one arose in the East, who
boasted that he was John. We may infer from
this, since false prophets of such a kind have
appeared, that the coming of Antichrist is at
hand ; for he is already practicing in these per-
sons the mystery of iniquity. And truly I think
this point should not be passed over, with what
arts the devil about this very time tempted Mar-
tin. For, on a certain day, prayer^ having been
previously offered, and the fiend himself being
surrounded by a purple light, in order that he
might the more easily deceive people by the
brilliance of the splendor assumed, clothed also

^ " Prcce " for the usual reading " prae se."

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

in a royal robe, and with a crown of precious
stones and gold encircling his head, his shoes
too being inlaid with gold, while he presented a
tranquil countenance, and a generally rejoicing
aspect, so that no such thought as that he was
the devil might be entertained — he stood by
the side of Martin as he was praying in his cell.
The saint being dazzled by his first appearance,
both preserved a long and deep silence. This
was first broken by the devil, who said : " Ac-
knowledge, Martin, who it is that you behold.
I am Christ ; and being just about to descend
to earth, I wished first to manifest myself to
thee." When Martin kept silence on hearing
these words, and gave no answer whatever, the
devil dared to repeat his audacious declaration :
" Martin, why do you hesitate to believe, when
you see? I am Christ." Then Martin, the
Spirit revealing the truth to him, that he might
understand it was the devil, and not God, re-
plied as follows : " The Lord Jesus did not pre-
dict that he would come clothed in purple, and
with a glittering crown upon his head. I will
not believe that Christ has come, unless he ap-
pears with that appearance and form in which
he suffered, and openly displaying the marks of
his wounds upon the cross." On hearing these
words, the devil vanished like smoke, and filled
the cell with such a disgusting smell, that he left
unmistakable evidences of his real character.
This event, as I have just related, took place in
the way which I have stated, and my informa-
tion regarding it was derived from the lips of
Martin himself; therefore let no one regard it
as fabulous.^

CHAPTER XXV.

Intercourse of Sitlpiiius with Martin.

For since I, having long heard accounts of
his faith, life and virtues, burned with a desire
of knowing him, I undertook what was to me a
pleasant journey for the purpose of seeing him.
At the same time, because already my mind was
inflamed with the desire of writing his life, I
obtained my information partly from himself, in
so far as I could venture to question him, and
partly from those who had lived with him, or
well knew the facts of the case. And at this
time it is scarcely credible with what humility
and with what kindness he received me ; while
he cordially wished me joy, and rejoiced in the
Lord that he had been held in such high estima-
tion by me that I had undertaken a journey
owing to my desire of seeing him. Unworthy
me ! (in fact, I hardly dare acknowledge it), that

* In spite of the combined testimony of Martin and Sulpitius
here referred to, few will have any doubt as to the real character of
this narrative.

he should have deigned to admit me to fellow-
ship with him ! He went so far as in person to
present me with water to wash my hands, and
at eventide he himself washed my feet ; nor had
I sufficient courage to resist or oppose his doing
so. Li fact, I felt so overcome by the authority
he unconsciously exerted, that I deemed it un-
lawful to do anything but acquiesce in his ar-
rangements. His conversation with me was all
directed to such points as the following : that the
allurements of this world and secular burdens
were to be abandoned in order that we micrht
be free and unencumbered in following the Lord
Jesus ; and he pressed upon me as an admirable
example in present circumstances the conduct
of that distinguished man Paulinus, of whom I
have made mention above. Martin declared of
him that, by parting with his great possessions
and following Christ, as he did, he showed him-
self almost the only one who in these times had
fully obeyed the precepts of the Gospel. He
insisted strongly that that was the man who
should be made the object of our imitation,
adding that the present age was fortunate in
possessing such a model of faith and virtue.
For Paulinus, being rich and having many pos-
sessions, by selling them all and giving them to
the poor according to the expressed will of the
Lord, had, he said, made possible by actual
proof what appeared impossible of accomplish-
ment. What power and dignity there were in
Martin's words and conversation ! How active
he was, how practical, and how prompt and
ready in solving questions connected with
Scripture ! And because I know that many are
incredulous on this point, — for indeed I have met
with persons who did not believe me when I re-
lated such things, — I call to witness Jesus, and
our common hope as Christians, that I never
heard from any other lips than those of Martin
such exhibitions of knowledge and genius, or
such specimens of good and pure speech. But
yet, how insignificant is all such praise when
compared with the virtues which he possessed !
Still, it is remarkable that in a man who had no
claim to be called learned, even this attribute
[of high intelligence] was not wanting.

CHAPTER XXVL

Wo7-ds cannot describe the Excellences of Martin.

But now my book must be brought to an end,
and my discourse finished. This is not because
all that was worthy of being said concerning
Martin is now exhausted, but because \, just as
sluggish poets grow less careful towards the end
of their work, give over, being baffled by the
immensity of the matter. For, although his

LIFE OF ST. MARTIN.

outward deeds could in some sort of way be set
forth in words, no language, I truly own, can
ever be capable of describing his inner life and
daily conduct, and his mind always bent upon
the things of heaven. No one can adequately
make known his perseverance and self-mastery
in abstinence and fastings, or his power in
watchings and prayers, along with the nights, as
well as days, which were spent by him, while not
a moment was separated from the service of
God, either for indulging in ease, or engaging in
business. But, in fact, he did not indulge either
in food or sleep, except in so far as the necessi-
ties of nature required. I freely confess that,
if, as the saying is. Homer himself were to as-
cend from the shades below, he could not do
justice to this subject in words ; to such an ex-
tent did all excellences surpass in Martin the
possibility of being embodied in language. Never
did a single hour or moment pass in which he
was not either actually engaged in prayer ; or,
if it happened that he was occupied with some-
thing else, still he never let his mind loose from
prayer. In truth, just as it is the custom of
blacksmiths, in the midst of their work to beat
their own anvil as a sort of relief to the laborer,
so Martin even when he appeared to be doing
something else, was still engaged in prayer. O
truly blessed man in whom there was no guile —
judging no man, condemning no man, returning
evil for evil to no man ! He displayed indeed
such marvelous patience in the endurance of
injuries, that even when he was chief priest, he
allowed himself to be wronged by the lowest
clerics with impunity ; nor did he either remove
them from the office on account of such con-
duct, or, as far as in him lay, repel them from a
place in his affection.

CHAPTER XXVII.

lVo7iderfiil Piety of Martin.

No one ever saw him enraged, or excited, or
lamenting, or laughing ; he was always one and
the same : displaying a kind of heavenly happi-
ness in his countenance, he seemed to have
passed the ordinary limits of human nature.
Never was there any word on his lips but Christ,

' " Summus sacerdos " : " that is," remarks Homius, " bishop.
They were also in those ages styled Popes (Papa;). This is clear
from Cyprian, Jerome, and others of a much later age."

and never was there a feeling in his heart except
piety, peace, and tender mercy. Frequently, too,
he used to weep for the sins of those who showed
themselves his revilers — those who, as he led
his retired and tranquil life, slandered him with
poisoned tongue and a viper's mouth. And truly
we have had experience of some who were envi-
ous of his virtues and his life — who really hated
in him what they did not see in themselves,
and what they had not power to imitate. And
— O wickedness worthy of deepest grief and
groans ! — some of his calumniators, although
very few, some of his maligners, I say, were re-
ported to be no others than bishops ! Here,
however, it is not necessary to name any one,
although a good many of these people are still
venting^ their spleen against myself I shall
deem it sufficient that, if any one of them reads
this account, and perceives that he is himself
pointed at, he may have the grace to blush. But
if, on the other hand, he sho\vs anger, he will,
by that very fact, own that he is among those
spoken of, though all the time perhaps I have
been thinking of some other person. I shall,
however, by no means feel ashamed if any peo-
ple of that sort include myself in their hatred'
along with such a man as Martin. I am quite
persuaded of this, that the present little work
will give pleasure to all truly good men. And I
shall only say further that, if any one read this
narrative in an unbelieving spirit, he himself will
fall into sin. I am conscious' to myself that I
have been induced by belief in the facts, and by
the love of Christ, to write these things ; and
that, in doing so, I have set forth Avhat is well
known, and recorded what is true ; and, as I
trust, that man will have a reward prepared by
God, not who shall read these things, but who
shall believe them,^

1 Lit. " are barking round about."

2 It seems extremely difficult (to recur to the point once more),
after reading this account of St. Martin by Sulpitius, to form any
certain conclusion regarding it. The writer so frequently and sol-
emnly assures us of his good faith, and there is such a verisimilitude
about the style, that it appears impossible to accept the theory of
willful deception on the part of the writer. And then, he was so
intimately acquainted with the subject of his narrative, that he
could hardly have accepted fictions for facts, or failed in his estimate
of the friend he so much admired and loved. Altogether, this Life
of St. Martin seems to bring before us one of the puzzles of history.
The saint himself must evidently have been a very extraordinary
man, to impress one of the talents and learning of Sulpitius so
remarkably as he did; but it is extremely hard to say how far the
miraculous narratives, which enter so largely into the account before
us, were due to pure invention, or unconscious hallucination. Milner
remarks {Church History, II. 193), " I should be ashamed, as well
as think the labor ill spent, to recite the stories at length which
Sulpitius gives us." See, on the other side. Cardinal Newman's
Essays on Miracles, p. 127, 209, &c.

THE LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

-»oJ»io°-

LETTER I.

TO EUSEBIUS.

Against Sonie Envious Assailants of Martin.

Yesterday a number of monks having come
to me, it happened that amid endless fables, and
much tiresome discourse, mention was made of
the little work which I published concerning the
life of that saintly man Martin, and I was most
happy to hear that it was being eagerly and care-
fully read by multitudes. In the meantime, how-
ever, I was told that a certain person, under the
influence of an evil spirit, had asked why Martin,
who was said to have raised the dead and to
have rescued houses from the flames, had him-
self recently become subject to the power of fire,
and thus been exposed to suffering of a danger-
ous character. Wretched man, whoever he is,
that expressed himself thus ! We recognize his
perfidious talk in the words of the Jews of old,
who reviled the Lord, when hanging upon the
cross, in the following terms : " He saved others ;
himself he cannot save." ^ Truly it is clear that,
whoever be the person referred to, if he had
lived in those times, he would have been quite
prepared to speak against the Lord in these
terms, inasmuch as he blasphemes a saint of the
Lord, after a like fashion. How then, I ask
thee, whosoever thou art, how does the case
stand? Was Martin really not possessed of
power, and not a partaker of holiness, because
he became exposed to danger from fire ? O
thou blessed man, and in all things like to the
Apostles, even in the reproaches which are thus
heaped upon thee ! Assuredly those Gentiles
are reported to have entertained the same sort
of thought respecting Paul also, when the viper
had bitten him, for they said, " This man must
be a murderer, whom, although saved from the
sea, the fates do not permit to live." - But he,
shaking off the viper into the fire, suffered no
harm. They, however, imagined that he would
suddenly fall down, and s])eedily die ; but when
they saw that no harm befell him, changing their
minds, they said that he was a God. But, O

' St. Malt, xxvii. ^2.

' Acts xxviii. 4.

thou most miserable of men, you ought, even
from that example to have yourself been con-
vinced of your falsity ; so that, if it had proved
a stumbling-block to thee that Martin appeared
touched by the flame of fire, you should, on
the other hand, have ascribed his being merely
touched to his merits and power, because, though
surrounded by flames, he did not perish. For
acknowledge, thou miserable man, acknowledge
what you seem ignorant of, that almost all the
saints have been more remarkable for" the dangers
they encountered, than even for the virtues they
displayed. I see, indeed, Peter strong in faith,
walking over the waves of the sea, in opposition
to the nature of things, and that he pressed the
unstable waters with his footprints. But not
on that account does the preacher of the Gen-
tiles^ seem to me a smaller man, whom the
waves swallowed up ; and, after three days ^ and
three nights, the water restored him emerging
from the deep. Nay, I am almost inchned to
think that it was a greater thing to have lived in
the deep, than to have walked along the depths of
the sea. But, thou foolish man, you had not, as
I suppose, read these things ; or, having read
them, had not understood them. For the
blessed Evangelist would not have recorded in
holy writ an incident of that kind — under divine
guidance — (except that, from such cases, the
human mind might be instructed as to the dan-
gers connected with shipwrecks and serpents 1)
and, as the Apostle relates, who gloried in his
nakedness, and hunger, and perils from robbers,
all these things are indeed to be endured in
common by holy men, but that it has always
been the chief excellence of the righteous in
enduring and conquering such things, while amid
all their trials, being patient and ever uncon-
querable, they overcame them all the more
courageously, the heavier was the burden which
they had to bear. Hence this event which is
ascribed to the infirmity of Martin is, in reality,
full of dignity and glory, since indeed, being tried

^ " magis insignes periculorum suorum " : such is the construc-
tion of insigiiis with later writers.

■" This refers to St. Paul, being an echo of the Apostle's own
words in Rom. xi. 13 — iyio kQvMV aTocrToAo?.

'' The writer here supposes that St. Paul was sunk for three days
and three nights in the sea — a mistaken inference from 2 Cor. xi. 25.
The construction of the very long sentence which soon follows is
very confused, and has not been rigidly followed in our translation.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted).

by a most dangerous calamity, he came fortli a
conqueror. But let no one wonder that the
incident referred to was omitted by me in that
treatise which I wrote concerning his life, since
in that very work I openly acknowledged that I
had not embraced all his acts ; and that for the
good reason that, if I had been minded to nar-
rate them all, I must have presented an enor-
mous volume to my readers. And indeed, his
achievments were not of so limited a number
that they could all be comprehended in a book.
Nevertheless, I shall not leave this incident,
about which a question has arisen, to remain in
obscurity, but shall relate the whole affair as it
occurred, lest I should appear perchance to have
intentionally passed over that which might be
put forward in calumniation of the saintly man.
Martin having, about the middle of winter,
come to a certain parish,^ according to the usual
custom for the bishops to visit the churches in
the diocese, the clerics had prepared an abode
for him in the private '^ part of the church, and
had kindled a large fire beneath the floor which
was decayed and very thin.'^ They also erected
for him a couch consisting of a large amount of
straw. Then, when Martin betook himself to
rest, he was annoyed with the softness of the too
luxurious bed, inasmuch as he had been accus-
tomed to lie on the bare ground with only a piece
of sackcloth stretched over him. Accordingly,
influenced by the injury which had, as it were,
been done him, he threw aside the whole of the
straw. Now, it so happened that part of the straw
which he had thus removed fell upon the stove.
He himself, in the meantime, rested, as was his
wont, upon the bare ground, tired out by his
long journey. About midnight, the fire bursting
up through the stove which, as I have said, was
far from sound, laid hold of the dry straw.
Mardn, being wakened out of sleep by this
unexpected occurrence, and being prevented by
the pressing danger, but chiefly, as he afterwards
related, by the snares and urgency of the devil,
was longer than he ought to have been in having
recourse to the aid of prayer. For, desiring to
get outside, he struggled long and laboriously
with the bolt by which he had secured the door.
Ere long he perceived that he was surrounded
by a fearful conflagration ; and the fire had even
laid hold of the garment with which he was
clothed. At length recovering his habitual con-
viction that his safety lay not in flight, but in the
Lord, and seizing the shield of faith and prayer,

^ "ad dioecesim quandam": it seems certain that diocesis has
here the meaning of " parish."

' "in secretario ecclesiae": it is very difficult tcf sav what is
here meant by " secretarium." It appears from Dial. II. i, that
there might be two or more secreiaria in one church.

* " pavimento": this word usually means " a floor," or " pave-
ment," but some take it here to be the same as foriiax. This,
however, can hardly be the case; and the meaning probably is that
the church was heated, as the baths were, by means of a hypo-
caustum, or flue running below the pavement.

committing himself entirely to the Lord, he lay
down in the midst of the flames. Then truly,
the fire having been removed by divine interpo-
sition, he continued to pray amid a circle of
flames that did him no harm. But the monks,
who were before the door, hearing the sound of
the crackling and struggling fire, broke open the
barred door ; and, the fire being extinguished,
they brought forth Martin from the midst of the
flames, all the time supposing that he must ere
then have been burnt to ashes by a fire of so
long continuance. Now, as the Lord is my
witness, he himself related to me, and not with-
out groans, confessed that he was in this matter
beguiled by the arts of the devil ; in that, when
roused from sleep, he did not take the wise
course of repelling the danger by means of faith
and prayer. He also added that the flames
raged around him all the time that, with a dis-
tempered mind, he strove to throw open the
door. But he declared that as soon as he again
sought assistance from the cross, and tried the
weapons of prayer, the central flames gave way,
and that he then felt them shedding a dewy
refreshment over him, after having just experi-
enced how cruelly they burned him. Consider-
ing all which, let every one who reads this letter
understand that Martin was indeed tried by
that danger, but passed through it with true
acceptance.''

LETTER IL

TO THE DEACON AURELIUS.

Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin.

SuLPiTius Severus to Aurelius the Deacon
sendeth greeting, — ^

After you had departed from me in the room-
ing, I was sitting alone in my cell ; and there
occurred to. me, as often happens, that hope of
the future which I cherish, along with a weari-
ness of the present world, a terror of judgment,
a fear of punishment, and, as a consequence, in-
deed as the source from which the whole train of
thought had flowed, a remembrance of my sins,
which had rendered me worn and miserable.
Then, after I had placed on my couch my limbs
fatigued with the anguish of my mind, sleep crept
upon me, as frequently happens from melan-
choly ; and such sleep, as it is always somewhat
light and uncertain in the morning hours, so it
pervaded my members only in a hovering and
doubtful manner. Thus it happens, what does
not occur in a different kind of slumber, that
one can feel he is dreaming while almost awake.
In these circumstances, I seemed suddenly to
see St. Martin appear to me in the character of

" Halm here inserts " vere."

1 This salutation is omitted by Halm.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted).

a bishop, clothed in a white robe, with a coun-
tenance as of fire, \vith eyes like stars, and with
purple hair.- He thus appeared to me with
that aspect and form of body which I had
known, so that I find it almost difficult to say
what I mean — he could not be steadfastly be-
held, though he could be clearly recognized.
Well, directing a gentle smile towards me, he
held out in his right hand the small treatise
which I had written concerning his life. I, for
my part, embraced his sacred knees, and begged
for his blessing according to custom. Upon
this, I felt his hand placed on my head with the
sweetest touch, while, amid the solemn words of
benediction, he repeated again and again the
name of the cross so famihar to his lips. Ere
long, while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon
him, and when I could not satisfy myself with
gazing upon his countenance, he was suddenly
taken away from me and raised on high. At
last, having passed through the vast expanse of
the air, while my straining eyes followed him
ascending in a rapidly moving cloud, he could
no longer be seen by me gazing after him. And
not long after, I saw the holy presbyter Clarus,
a disciple of Martin's who had lately died, as-
cend in the same way as I had seen his master.
I, impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at
and strive after such lofty ste])s, suddenly wake
up ; and, being roused from sleep, I had begun
to rejoice over the vision, when a boy, a servant
in the familv, enters to me with a countenance
sadder than is usual with one who gives utter-
ance to his grief in words. "What," I enquire
of him, " do you wish to tell me with so melan-
choly an aspect? " "Two monks," he replied,
" have just been here from Tours, and they have
brought word that Martin is dead." I confess
that I was cut to the heart ; and bursting into
tears, I wept most abundantly. Nay, even now,
as I write these things to you, brother, my tears
are flowing, and I find no consolation for my all
but unbearable sorrow. And I should wish you,
when this news reaches you, to be a partaker in my
grief, as you were a sharer with me in his love.
Come then, I beg of you, to me without delay,
that we may mourn in common him whom in
common we love. And yet I am well aware
that such a man ought not to be mourned over,
to whom, after his victory and triumph over the
world, there has now at last been given the
crown of righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot
so command myself as to keep from grieving.
I have, no doubt, sent on before me one who
will plead my cause in heaven, but I have, at
the same time, lost my great source of con-
solation in this present life ; yet if grief would
yield to the influence of reason, I certainly ought

' " crine piirpureo " : it is impossible to tell the exact color
which is intended.

to rejoice. For he is now mingling among the
Apostles and Prophets, and (with all respect for
the saints on high be it said) he is second to
no one in that assembly of the righteous as I
firmly hope, believe, and trust, being joined es-
pecially to those who washed their robes in the
blood of the" Lamb. He now follows the Lamb
as his guide, free from all spot of defilement.
For although the character'* of our times could
not ensure him the honor of martyrdom, yet he
will not remain destitute of the glory of a martyr,
because both by vow and virtues he was alike
able and willing to be a martyr. But if he had
been permitted, in the times of Nero and of
Decius,^ to take part in the struggle which then
went on, I take to witness the God of heaven
and earth that he would freely have submitted®
to the rack of torture, and readily surrendered
himself to the flames : yea, worthy of being com-
pared to the illustrious Hebrew youths, amid the
circling flames, and though in the very midst of
the furnace, he would have sung a hymn of the
Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the per-
secutor to inflict upon him the punishment which
Isaiah endured, he would never have shown
himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have
shrunk from having his members torn in pieces
by saws and swords. And if impious fury had
preferred to drive the blessed man over precip-
itous rocks or steep mountains, I maintain that,
clinging^ to the testimony of truth he would
willingly have fallen. But if, after the example
of the teacher of the Gentiles,* as indeed often
happened, he had been included among other
victims who were condemned® to die by the
sword, he would have been foremost to urge on
the executioner to his work that he might obtain
the crown ^" of blood. And, in truth, far from
shrinking from a confession of the Lord, in the
face of all those penalties and punishments,
which frequently prove too much for human in-
firmity, he would have stood so immovable as to
have smiled with joy and gladness over the suf-
ferings and torments he endured, whatever
might have been the tortures inflicted upon
him. But although he did in fact suffer none
of these things, yet he fully attained to the
honor of martyrdom without shedding his blood.
For what agonies of human sufferings did he not
endure in behalf of the hope of eternal fife, in
hunger, in watchings, in nakedness, in fastings,

' Compare Rev. vii. 14.

* As being peaceful, the imperial power having now passed into
the hands of Christians.

'' Roman emperor, a.d. 249-251 ; his full name was C. Messius
Quinlus Trajanus Decius.

" " equilwum ascendisset " : lit. "would have mounted the
wooden horse," an instrument of torture.

' Some read " perhibeo confisiis testimonium veritati," and
others " veritatis"; in either case, the construction is confused and
irregular.

" St. Paul is referred to: tradition bears that he was beheaded.

* A late use of the verb depuinre.

'0 i.e. martyrdom, " palmam sanguinis."

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted).

in reproachings of the malignant, in persecutions
of the wicked, in care for the weak, in anxiety for
those in danger? For who ever suffered but Mar-
tin suffered along with him? Who was made to
stumble and he burnt not ? Who perished, and he
did not mourn deeply ? Besides those daily strug-
gles which he carried on against the various con-
flicts with human and spiritual wickedness, while
invariably, as he was assailed with divers temp-
tations, there prevailed in his case fortitude in
conquering, patience in waiting, and placidity in
enduring. O man, truly indescribable in piety,
mercy, love, which daily grows cold even in
holy men through the coldness of the world, but
which in his case increased onwards to the end,
an:l endured from day to day ! I, for my part,
had the happiness of enjoying this grace in him
even in an eminent degree, for he loved me in a
special manner, though I was far from meriting
such affection. And, on the remembrance, yet
again my tears burst forth, while groans issue
from the bottom of my heart. In what man
shall I for the future find such repose for my
spirit as I did in him ? and in whose love shall
I enjoy like consolation? Wretched being that
I am, sunk in affliction, can I ever, if life be
spared me, cease to lament that I have sur-
vived Martin ? Shall there in future be to me
any pleasure in life, or any day or hour free
from tears ; or can I ever, my dearest brother,
make mention of him to you without lamenta-
tion? And yet, in conversing with you, can I
ever talk of any other subject than him? But
why do I stir you up to tears and lamentations?
Sd I now desire you to be comforted, although
I am unable to console myself. He will not be
absent from us ; believe me, he will never, never
forsake us, but will be present with us as we
discourse regarding him, and will be near to us
as we pray ; and the happiness which he has
even to-day deigned to bestow, even that of
seeing him in his glory, he will frequently in
future afford ; and he will protect us, as he did
but a little while ago, with his unceasing bene-
diction. Then again, according to the arrange-
ment of the vision, he showed that heaven was
open to those following him, and taught us to
what we ought to follow him ; he instructed us
to what objects our hope should be directed,
and to what attainment our mind should be
turned. Yet, my brother, what is to be done ?
For, as I am myself well aware, I shall never be
able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate
into those blessed regions. To such a degree
does a miserable burden press me down ; and
while I cannot, through the load of sin which
overwhelms me, secure an ascent to heaven, the
cruel pressure rather sinks me in my misery to
the place of despair." Nevertheless, hope re-

' ^1 '■ in tartara."

mains, one last and solitary hope, that, what I
cannot obtain of myself, I may, at any rate, be
thought worthy of, through the prayers of Martin
in my behalf. But why, brother, should I longer
occupy your time with a letter which has turned
out so garrulous, and thus delay you from coming
to me ? At the same time, my page being now
filled, can admit no more. This, however, was
my object in prolonging my discourse to a some-
what undue extent, that, since this letter con-
veys to you a message of sorrow, it might also
furnish you with consolation, through my sort of
friendly conversation with you.

LETTER in.

TO BASSULA, HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW.

How St. Martin passed from this Life to Life
Eternal.

SuLPiTius Severus to Bassula, his venerable
parent, sendeth greeting.

If it were lawful that parents should be sum-
moned to court by their children, clearly I might
drag you with a righteous thong ^ before the tri-
bunal of the praetor, on a charge of robbery and
plunder. For why should I not complain of the
injury which I have suffered at your hands?
You have left me no little bit of writing at home,
no book, not even a letter — to such a degree
do you play the thief with all such things and
publish them to the world. If I write anything
in familiar style to a friend ; if, as I amuse my-
self I dictate anything with the wish at the same
time that it should be kept private, all such things
seem to reach you almost before they have been
written or spoken. Surely you have my secre-
taries" in your'^ debt, since through them any
trifles I compose are made known to you. And
yet I cannot be moved with anger against them
if they really obey you, and have invaded my
rights under the special influence of your gener-
osity to them, and ever bear in mind that they
belong to you rather than to me. Yes, thou
alone art the culprit — thou alone art to blame — •
inasmuch as you both lay your snares for me,
and cajole them with your trickery, so that with-
out making any^ selection, pieces written famil-
iarly, or let out of hand without care, are sent
to thee quite unelaborated and unpolished. For,
to say nothing about other writings, I beg to ask
how that letter could reach you so speedily, which
I recently wrote to Aurelius the Deacon. For,

' Instead of " justo loro," Halm reads, " jiisto dolore," i.e. " with
just resentment."

^ " notaries ": shorthand writers, who wrote from dictation.

^ Halm here reads " oharratos," wiih what sense I know not:
the reading " objeratos," followed in the text seems to yield a very
good meaning.

•* The reading " sine dilectu uUo," adopted by Halm, seems pref-
erable to the old reading, " sine delicto uUo."

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted).

as I was situated at Toulouse/ while you were
dwelling at Treves, and were so far distant from
your native land, owing to the anxiety felt on
account of your son, what opportunity, I should
like to know, did you avail yourself of, to get
hold of that familiar^ epistle? For I have re-
ceived your letter in which you write that I
ought in the same epistle in which I made men-
tion of the death of our master, Martin, to have
described the manner in which that saintly man
left this world. As if, indeed, I had either given
forth that epistle with the view of its being read
by any other except him to whom it purported
to be sent ; or as if I were fated to undertake
so great a work as that all things which should
be known respecting Martin are to be made
public through me particularly as the writer.
Therefore, if you desire to learn anything con-
cerning the end of the saintly bishop, you should
direct your enquiries rather to those who were
present when his death occurred. I for my part
have resolved to write nothing to you lest you
publish me'^ everywhere. Nevertheless if you
pledge your word that you will read to no one
what I send you, I shall satisfy your desire in a
{qw words. Accordingly I shall communicate^
to you the following particulars which are com-
prised within my own knowledge.

I have to state, then, that Martin was aware
of the period of his own death long before it
occurred, and told the brethren that his depart-
ure from the body was at hand. In the mean-
time, a reason sprang up which led him to visit
the church at Condate.'-* For, as the clerics of
that church were at variance among themselves,
Martin, wishing to restore peace, although he
well knew that the end of his own days was at
hand, yet he did not shrink from undertaking
the journey, with such an object in view. He
did, in fact, think that this would be an excellent
crown to set upon his virtues, if he should leave
behind him peace restored to a church. Thus,
then, having set out with that very numerous
and holy crowd of disciples who usually accom-
panied him, he perceives in a river a number of
water-fowl busy in capturing fishes, and notices
that a voracious appetite was urging them on to
frequent seizures of their prey. " This," ex-
claimed he, " is a picture of how the demons
act : they lie in wait for the unwary and capture

^ The identity of Tolosa, mentioned in the text with the modern
Toulouse, is uncertain.

* Of course, this is all jocular, and shows the best relations as
existing between Sulpitius and his mother-in-law.

' There is clearly some affectation in the horror which Sulpitius
expresses in this and other passages at the thought of his writings
being published. It is obvious that he derived gratification from the
fact of their being widely read.

' " prsstabo his participem " : the construction is peculiar, but
the meaning is obvious.

" There were several towns of this name in Gaul. The one
probably here referred to was on the road from Augustodunum
(Autun) to Paris. It corresponds to the modern Cosne, at the junc-
tion of the stream Nonain with the river Loire.

them before they know it : they devour their
victims when taken, and they can never be satis-
fied with what they have devoured." Then
Martin, with a miraculous ^" power in his words,
commands the birds to leave the pool in which
they were swimming, and to betake themselves
to dry and desert regions ; using with respect to
those birds that very same authority with which
he had been accustomed to put demons to
flight, x^ccordingly, gathering themselves to-
gether, all those birds formed a single body, and
leaving the river, they made for the mountains
and woods, to no small wonder of many who
perceived such power in Martin that he could
even rule the birds. Having then delayed some
time in that village or church to which he had
gone, and peace having been restored among
the clerics, when he was now meditating a re-
turn to his monastery, he began suddenly to
fail in bodily strength, and, assembling the
brethren, he told them that he was on the point
of dissolution. Then indeed, sorrow and grief
took possession of all, and there was but one
voice of them lamenting, and saying : " ^^'hy,
dear father, will you leave us? Or to whom
can you commit us in our desolation? Fierce
wolves will speedily attack thy flock, and who,
when the shepherd has been smitten, will save
us " from their bites ? We know, indeed, that
you desire to be with Christ ; but thy reward
above is safe, and will not be diminished by
being delayed ; rather have pity upon us, whom
you are leaving desolate." Then Martin, affected
by these lamentations, as he was always, in truth,
full ^" of compassion, is said to have burst into
tears ; and, turning to the Lord, he replied to
those weeping round him only in the following
words, " O Lord, if I am still necessary to
thy people, I do not shrink from toil : thy will
be done." Thus hovering as he did between ^^
desire and love, he almost doubted which he
preferred ; for he neither wished to leave us,
nor to be longer separated from Christ. How-
ever, he placed no weight upon his own wishes,
nor reserved anything to his own will, but com-
mitted himself wholly to the will and power of
the Lord, Do you not think you hear him
speaking in the following few words which I re-
peat ? " Terrible, indeed, Lord, is the struggle
of bodily warfare, and surely it is now enough
that I have continued the fight till now; but, if
thou dost command me still to persevere in the
same toil for the defense ^* of thy flock, I do not
refuse, nor do I plead against such an appoint-

'" " potenti virtute verborum": Halm reads simply " potenli
verbo."

'' A singular and obviously corrupt reading is " quis cos a
morsibus nostris prohibebit ?" Halm's reading has been followed
in the text.

'- Lit. " as he always flowed with bowels of mercy in the Lord."

" " spes " seems here to mean " longing of heart."

'* " pro castris tuorum."

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted).

ment my declining years. Wholly given to
thee, I will fulfill whatever duties thou dost as-
sign me, and I will serve under thy standard as
long as thou shalt prescribe. Yea, although re-
lease is sweet to an old man after lengthened
toil, yet my mind is a conqueror over my years,
and I have no desire ^ to yield to old age. But
if now thou art merciful to my many years,
good, O Lord, is thy will to me ; and thou thy-
self wilt guard over those for whose safety I fear."
O man, whom no language can describe, uncon-
quered by toil, and unconquerable even by
death, who didst show no personal preference
for either alternative, and who didst neither fear
to die nor refuse to live ! Accordingly, though
he was for some days under the influence of a
strong fever, he nevertheless did not abandon
the work of God. Continuing in supplications
and watchings through whole nights, he com-
pelled his worn-out limbs to do serv^ice to his
spirit as he lay on his glorious '" couch upon
sackcloth and ashes. And when his disciples
begged of him that at least he should allow
some common straw to be placed beneath him,
he replied : " It is not fitting that a Christian
should die except among ashes ; and I have
sinned if I leave you a different example."
However, with his hands and eyes steadfastly
directed towards heaven, he never released his
unconquerable spirit from prayer. And on
being asked by the presbyters who had then
gathered round him, to relieve his body a little
by a change of side, he exclaimed : " Allow me,
dear brother, to fix my looks rather on heaven
than on earth, so that my spirit which is just
about to depart on its own journey may be di-
rected towards the Lord." Having spoken
these words, he saw the devil standing close at
hand, and exclaimed : " Why do you stand here,
thou bloodv monster? Thou shalt find nothing
in me, thou deadly one : Abraham's bosom is
about to receive me."

As he uttered these words, his spirit fled ; and
those who were there present have testified to
us that they saw his face as if it had been the
face '' of an angel. His limbs too appeared white
as snow, so that people exclaimed, " Who would
ever believe that man to be clothed in sackcloth,
or who would imagine that he was enveloped
with ashes?" For even then he presented such
an appearance, as if he had been manifested in

15 Or, " I am not one to yield," nesci»s cedere.

i" " nobili illo strato suo"; tiobilis in one sense, though so
humble in another.

" There is a great variety of readings here; Halm has been
followed in the text.

the glory of the future resurrection, and with
the nature of a body which had been changed.
But it is hardly credible what a multitude of
human beings assembled at the performance of
his funeral rites : the whole city poured forth
to meet his body ; all the inhabitants of the dis-
trict and villages, along with many also from the
neighboring cities, attended. O how great was
the grief of all ! how deep the lamentations in
particular of the sorrowing monks ! They are
said to have assembled on that day almost to
the number of two thousand, — a special glory
of Martin, — through his example so numerous
plants had sprung up for the service of the Lord.
Undoubtedly the shepherd was then driving his
own flocks before him — the pale crowds of that
saintly multitude — bands arrayed in cloaks,
either old men whose life-labor was finished, or
young soldiers who had just taken the oath of
allegiance to Christ. Then, too, there was the
choir of virgins, abstaining out of modesty from
weeping ; and with what holy joy did they con-
ceal the fact of their affliction ! No doubt faith
would prevent the shedding of tears, yet affec-
tion forced out groans. For there was as sacred
an exultation over the glory to which he had
attained, as there was a pious sorrow on account
of his death. One would have been inclined to
pardon those who wept, as well as to congratu-
late those who rejoiced, while each single per-
son preferred that he himself should grieve, but
that another should rejoice. Thus then this
multitude, singing hymns of heaven, attended
the body of the sainted man onwards to the
place of sepulture. Let there be compared with
this spectacle, I will not say the worldly ^^ pomp
of a funeral, but even of a triumph ; and what
can be reckoned similar to the obsequies of
Martin ? Let your worldly great men lead before
their chariots captives with their hands bound
behind their backs. Those accompanied the body
of Martin who, under his guidance, had overcome
the world. Let madness honor these earthly
warriors with the united praises of nations.
Martin is praised with the divine psalms, Martin
is honored in heavenly hymns. Those worldly
men, after their triumphs here are over, shall be
thrust into cruel Tartarus, while Martin is joy-
fully received into the bosom of Abraham. Mar-
tin, poor and insignificant on earth, has a rich
entrance granted him into heaven. From that
blessed region, as I trust, he looks upon me, as
my guardian, while I am writing these things,
and upon you while you read them.^^

"* Or, " the pomp of a worldly funeral."

1^ Halm inserts this last sentence in brackets.

THE DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

-o-Oj^OO-

DIALOGUE I.

CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF THE MONKS OF THE

EAST.

CHAPTER I.

When I and a Gallic friend had assembled in
one place, this Gaul being a man very dear to
me, both on account of his remembrance of
Martin (for he had been one of his disciples),
and on account of his own merits, my friend
Postumianus joined us. He had just, on my
account, returned from the East, to which, leav-
ing his native country, he had gone three years
before. Having embraced this most affection-
ate friend, and kissed both his knees and his
feet, we were for a moment or two, as it were,
astounded ; and, shedding mutual tears of joy,
we walked about a good deal. But by and by
we sat down on our garments of sackcloth laid
upon the ground. Then Postumianus, directing
his looks towards me is the first to speak, and
says, —

" When I was in the remote parts of Egypt, I
felt a desire to go on as far as the sea. I there
met with a merchant vessel, which was ready to
set sail with the view of making for Narbonne.^
The same night you seemed in a dream to stand
beside me, and laying hold of me with your
hand, to lead me away that I should go on
board that ship. Ere long, when the dawn
dispersed the darkness, and when I rose up in
the place in which I had been resting, as I
revolved my dream in my mind, I was suddenly
seized with such a longing after you, that with-
out delay I went on board the ship. Landing
on the thirtieth day at Marseilles, I came on
from that and arrived here on the tenth day —
so prosperous a voyage was granted to my duti-
ful desire of seeing you. Do thou only, for
whose sake I have sailed over so many seas, and
have traversed such an extent of land, yield
yourself over to me to be embraced and enjoyed
apart from all others."

" I truly," said I, " while you were still stay-

1 Narbona, more commonly called Narbo Martius; the modern
Narbonne.

ing in Egypt, was ever holding fellowship with
you in my mind and thoughts, and affection for
you had full possession of me as I meditated
upon you day and night. Surely then, you can-
not imagine that I will now fail for a single
moment to gaze with delight upon you, as I
hang upon your lips. I will listen to you, I will
converse with you, while no one at all is admitted
to our retirement, which this remote cell of
mine furnishes to us. For, as I suppose, you
will not take amiss the presence of this friend
of ours, the Gaul, who, as you perceive, rejoices
with his whole heart over this arrival of yours,
even as I do myself."

"Quite right," said Postumianus, "that Gaul
will certainly be retained in our company ; who,
although I am but little acquainted with him,
yet for this very reason that he is greatly beloved
by you, cannot fail also to be dear to me. This
must especially be the case, since he is of the
school of Martin ; nor will I grudge, as you
desire, to talk with you in connected discourse,
since I came hither for this very purpose, that
I should, even at the risk of being tedious,
respond to the desire of my dear Sulpitius " —
and in so speaking he affectionately took hold
of me with both his hands.

CHAPTER n.

" Trulv," said I, " you have clearly proved
how much a sincere love can accomj)lish, inas-
much as, for my sake, you have traveled over so
many seas, and such an extent of land, journey-
ing, so to speak, from the rising of the sun in
the East to where he sets in the West. Come,
then, because we are here in a retired spot by
ourselves, and not being otherwise occupied,
feel it our duty to attend to your discourse,
corne, I pray thee, relate to us the whole history
of your wanderings. Tell us, if you please, how
the faith of Christ is flourishing in the East ;
what peace the saints enjoy ; what are the cus-
toms of the monks ; and with what signs and
miracles Christ is working in his servants. For
assuredly, because in this region of ours and
amid the circumstances in which we are placed.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

life itself has become a weariness to us, we shall
gladly hear from you, if life is permitted to
Christians even in the desert."

In reply to these words, Postumianus declares,
" I shall do as I see you desire. But I beg you
first to tell me, whether all those persons whom
I left here as priests, continue the same as I
knew them before taking my departure."

Then I exclaim, " Forbear, I beseech thee,
to make any enquiry on such points, which you
either, I think, know as well as I do, or if you
are ignorant of them, it is better that you should
hear nothing regarding them. I cannot, how-
ever, help sa}ing, that not only are those, of
whom you enquire, no better than they were
when you knew them, but even that one man,
who was formerly a great friend of mine, and in
whose affection I was wont to find some conso-
lation from the persecutions of the rest, has
shown himself more unkind towards me than he
ought to have been. However, I shall not say
anything harsher regarding him, both because I
once esteemed him as a friend, and loved him
even when he was deemed my enemy. I shall
only add that while I was silently meditating on
these things in my thoughts, this source of grief
deeply afflicted me, that I had almost lost the
friendship of one who was both a wise and a
religious man. But let us turn away from these
topics which are full of sorrow, and let us rather
listen to you, according to the promise which
you gave some time ago."

" Let it be so," exclaimed Postumianus. And
on his saying this, we all kept silence, while,
moving his robe of sackcloth, on which he had
sat down, a little nearer me, he thus began.

CHAPTER III.

"Three years ago, Sulpitius, at which time,
leaving this neighborhood, I bade thee farewell,
after setting sail from Narbonne, on the fifth day
we entered a port of Africa : so prosperous, by
the will of God, had been the voyage. I had
in my mind a great desire to go to Carthage, to
visit those localities connected with the saints,
and, above all, to worship at the tomb ^ of the
martyr Cyprian. On the fifth day we returned
to the harbor, and launched forth into the deep.
Our destination was Alexandria ; but as the
south wind was against us, we were almost driven
upon the Syrtis ; ^ the cautious sailors, however,
guarding against this, stopped the sh'ip by cast-
ing anchor. The continent of Africa then lay

^ " Ad sepulchnim Cypriani martyris adorare."
- This was probably the Syrtis Minor, a dangerous sandbank in
the sea on the northern coast of Africa; it is now known as the Gulf
of Cabes. The Syrtis Major lay farther to the east, and now bears
the lame of the Gulf of Sidra.

before our eyes ; and, landing on it in boats,
when we perceived that the whole country round
was destitute of human cultivation, I penetrated
farther inland, for the purpose of more carefully
exploring the locality. About three miles from
the sea-coast, I beheld a small hut in the midst
of the sand, the roof of which, to use the ex-
pression ^ of Sallust, was like the keel of a ship.
It was close to'* the earth, and was floored with
good strong boards, not because any very heavy
rains are there feared (for, in fact, such a thing
as rain has there never even been heard of), but
because, such is the strength of the winds in that
district, that, if at any time only a little breath of
air begins there to be felt, even when the weather
is pretty mild, a greater wreckage takes place in
those lands than on any sea. No plants are
there, and no seeds ever spring up, since, in such
shifting soil, the dry sand is swept along with
every motion of the winds. But where some
promontories, back from the sea, act as a check
to the winds, the soil, being somewhat more
firm, produces here and there some prickly grass,
and that furnishes fair pasturage for sheep. The
inhabitants live on milk, while those of them that
are more skillful, or, so to speak, more wealthy,
make use of barley bread. That is the only kind
of grain which flourishes there, for barley, by
the quickness of its growth in that sort of soil,
generally escapes the destruction caused by the
fierce winds. So rapid is its growth that we are
told it is ripe on the thirtieth day after the sow-
ing of the seed. But there is no reason why
men should settle there, except that all are free
from the payment of taxes. The sea-coast of
the Cyrenians is indeed the most remote, border-
ing upon that desert which lies between Egypt
and Africa,^ and through which Cato formerly,
when fleeing from Caesar, led an army.^

CHAPTER IV.

1 THEREFORE bent my steps toward the hut
which I had beheld from a distance. There I
find an old man, in a garment made of skins,
turning a mill with his hand. He saluted and
received us kindly. We explain to him that we
had been forced to land on that coast, and were
prevented by the continued raging of the sea^
from being able at once to pursue our voyage ;
that, having made our way on shore, we had
desired, as is in keeping with ordinary human

2 " jEdificia Numidarum agrestium, quae mapalia illi vocant,
oblonga, incurvis lateribus tecta, quasi navium carinas sunt." —
Sail. Jug. XVni. 8.

* The hut was perhaps built on piles rising slightly above the
ground.

° The term Africa is here used in its more restricted sense to
denote the territory of Carthage.

" This took place in the spring of the year B.C. 47.

1 " maris moUitie.-"

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

nature, to become acquainted with the character
of the locaUty, and the manners of the inhabi-
tants. We added that we were Christians, and
that the principal object of our enquiry was
whether there were any Christians amid these
soHtudes. Then, indeed, he, weeping for joy,
throws himself at our feet ; and, kissing us over
and over again, invites us to prayer, while,
spreading on the ground the skins of sheep, he
makes us sit down upon them. He then serves
up a breakfast truly luxurious,^ consisting of the
half of a barley cake. Now, we were four, while
he himself constituted the fifth. He also brought
in a bundle of herbs, of which I forget the name,
but they were like mint, were rich in leaves, and
yielded a taste like honey. We were delighted
with the exceedingly sweet taste of this plant,
and our hunger was fully satisfied."

Upon this I smiled, and said to my friend the
Gaul, "What, Gaul, do you think of this? Are
you pleased with a bumlle of herbs and half a
barley cake as a breakfast for five men?"

Then he, being an exceedingly modest person,
and blushing somewhat, while he takes my ^ joke
in good part, says, " You act, Sulpitius, in a way
like yourself, for you never miss any opportunity
which is offered you of joking us on the subject of
our fondness for eating. But it is unkind of you
to try to force us Gauls to live after the fashion
of angels ; and yet, through my own liking for
eating, I could believe that even the angels are in
the habit of eating ; for such is my appetite that
I would be afraid even singly to attack that half
barley cake. However, let that man of Cyrene
be satisfied with it, to whom it is either a matter
of necessity or nature always to feel hungry ; or,
again, let those be content with it from whom, I
suppose, their tossing at sea had taken away all
desire for food. We, on the other hand, are at
a distance from the sea ; and, as I have often
testified to you, we are, in one word, Gauls. But
instead of wasting time over such matters, let
our friend here rather go on to complete his
account of the Cyrenian."

CHAPTER V.

" Assuredly," continues Postumianus, " I
shall take care in future not to mention the
abstinence of any one, in case the difficult ex-
ample should quite offend our friends the Gauls.
I had intended, however, to give an account
also of the dinner of that man of Cyrene — for
we were seven days with him — or some of the
subsequent feasts ; but these things had better
be passed over, lest the Gaul should think that

* " Prandium sane locupletissimum " :
friendly irony in the words.

3 " fatigationein," a late sense of the word,

of course, there is a

he was jeered at. However, on the following
day, when some of the natives had come to-
getlier to visit us, we discovered that that host
of ours was a Presbyter — a fact which he had
concealed from us with the greatest care. We
then went with him to the church, which was
about two miles distant, and was concealed from
our view by an intervening mountain. We
found that it was constructed of common and
worthless trees, and was not much more impos-
ing than the hut of our host, in which one could
not stand without stooping. On enquiring into
the customs of the men of the district, we found
that they were not in the habit of either buying
or selling anything. They knew not the mean-
ing of either fraud or theft. As to gold and
silver, which mankind generally deem the most
desirable of all things, they neither possess them,
nor do they desire to possess them. For when
I offered that Presbyter ten gold coins, he
refused them, declaring, with profound wisdom,
that the church was not benefited but rather ^
injured by gold. We presented him, however,
with some pieces of clothing.

CHAPTER VL

" After he had kindly accepted our gifts, on
the sailors calling us back to the sea, we
departed ; and after a favorable passage, we
arrived at Alexandria on the seventh day.
There we found a disgraceful strife raging be-
tween the bishops and monks, the cause or
occasion of which was that the priests were
known when assembled together often to have
passed decrees in crowded synods to the effect
that no one should read or possess the books of
Origen. He was, no doubt, regarded as a most
able disputant on the sacred Scriptures. But
the bishops maintained that there were certain
things in his books of an unsound character ;
and his supporters, not being bold enough to
defend these, rather took the line of declaring
that they had been inserted by the heretics.
They affirmed, therefore, that the other portions
of his writings were not to be condemned on
account of those things which justly fell under
censure, since the faith of readers could easily
make a distinction, so that they should not
follow what had been forged, and yet should
keep hold of those points which were handled
in accordance with the Catholic faith. They
remarked that there was nothing wonderful if,
in modern and recent writings, heretical guile
had been at work ; since it had not feared in
certain places to attack even Gospel truth.
The bishops, struggling against these positions

' " non instrui, sed potius destrui."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

,27

to the utmost extent of their power, insisted that
wliat was quite correct in the writings of Origen
should, along with the author himself, and even
his whole works, be condemned, because those
books were more than sufficient which the
church had received. They also said that the
reading was to be avoided of such works as
would do more harm to the unwise than they
would benefit the wise. For my part, on being led
by curiosity to investigate some portions of these^
writings, I found very many things which pleased
me, but some that were to be blamed. I think
it is clear that the author himself really enter-
tained these impious opinions,' though his de-
fenders maintain that the passages have been
forged. I truly wonder that one and the same
man could have been so different from himself
as that, in the portion which is approved, he
has no equal since the times of the Apostles,
while in that which is justly condemned, no one
can be shown to have erred more egregiously.

CHAPTER VII.

For while many things in his books which were
extracted from them by the bishops were read
to show that they were written in opposition to
the Catholic faith, that passage especially ex-
cited bad feeling against him, in which we read
in his published works that the Lord Jesus, as
he had come in the flesh for the redemption
of mankind, and suffering upon the cross for the
salvation of man, had tasted death to procure
eternal life for the human race, so he was, by
the same course of suffering, even to render the
devil a partaker of redemption. He maintained
this on the ground that such a thing would be
in harmony with his goodness and beneficence,
inasmuch as he who had restored fallen and
ruined man, would thus also set free an angel
who had previously fallen. When these and
other things of a like nature were brought
forward by the bishops, a tumult arose owing
to the zeal of the different parties ; and when
this could not be quelled by the authority of
the priests, the governor of the city was called
upon to regulate the discipline of the church by
a perverse precedent; and through the terror
which he inspired, the brethren were dispersed,
while the monks took to flight in different direc-
tions ; so that, on the decrees being published,
they were not permitted to find lasting accept-
ance' in any place. This fact influenced me
greatly, that Hieronymus, a man truly Catholic
and most skillful in the holy law, was thought at
first to have been a follower of Origen, yet now,
above most others, went the length of condemn-
ing the whole of his writings. Assuredly, I am

' " in nulla consistere sede sinerentur."

not inclined to judge rashly in regard to any
one ; but even the most learned men were said
to hold different opinions in this controversy.
However, whether that opinion of Origen was
simply an error, as I think, or whether it was a
heresy, as is generally supposed, it not only
could not be suppressed by multitudes of cen-
sures on the part of the priests, but it never
could have spread itself so far and wide, had it
not gathered strength from their contentions.
Accordingly, when I came to Alexandria, I
found that city in a ferment from disturbances
connected with the matter in question. The
Bishop, indeed, of that place received me very
kindly, and in a better spirit than I expected,
and even endeavored to retain me with him.
But I was not at all inclined to settle there,
where a recent outbreak of ill-will had resulted
in a destruction of the brethren. For, although
perhaps it may seem that they ought to have
obeyed the bishops, yet such a multitude of
persons, all living in an open confession of
Christ, ought not for that reason to have been
persecuted, especially by bishops.

CHAPTER VHI.

Accordingly, setting out from that place, I
made for the town of Bethlehem, which is six
miles distant from Jerusalem, but requires six-
teen stoppages^ on the part of one journeying
from Alexandria. The presbyter Jerome" mles
the church of this place ; for it is a parish of the
bishop who has possession of Jerusalem. Hav-
ing already in my former journey become ac-
quainted with Hieronymus, he had easily brought
it about that I with good reason deemed no one
more worthy of my regard and love. For, be-
sides the merit due to him on account of his
faith, and the possession of many virtues, he is
a man learned not only in Latin and Greek, but
also Hebrew, to such a degree that no one dare
venture to compare himself with him in all
knowledge. I shall indeed be surprised if he
is not well known to you also through means of
the works which he has written, since he is, in
fact, read the whole world over."

" Well," says the Gaul at this point, " he is, in
truth, but too well known to us. For, some five
years ago, I read a certain book of his, in which
the whole tribe of our monks is most vehemently
assaulted and reviled by him. For this reason,
our Belgian friend is accustomed to be very
angry, because he has said that we are in the
habit of cramming ourselves even to repletion.
But I, for my part, pardon the eminent man ;
and am of opinion that he had made the remark
rather about Eastern than Western monks. For

1 " mansionibus.'

2 Otherwise, " Hieronymus.''

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

the love of eating is gluttony in the case of the
Greeks, whereas among the Gauls it is owing to
the nature they possess."

Then exclaimed I, " You defend your nation,
my Gallic friend, by means of rhetoric ; but I
beg to ask whether that book condemns only
this vice in the case of the monks?"

"No indeed," replies he; "the writer passed
nothing over, which he did not blame, scourge,
and expose : in particular, he inveighed against
avarice and no less against arrogance. He dis-
coursed much respecting pride, and not a little
about superstition ; and I will freely own that
he seemed to me to draw a true picture of the
vices of multitudes."

CHAPTER IX.

" But as to familiarities which take place
between virgins and monks, or even clerics, how
true and how courageous were his words ! And,
on account of these, he is said not to stand high
in favor with certain people whom I am un-
willing to name. For, as our Belgian friend is
angry that we were accused of too great fond-
ness for eating, so those people, again, are said
to express their rage when they find it written in
that little work, — 'The virgin despises her true
unmarried brother, and seeks a stranger.' "

Upon this I exclaim, "You are going too far,
my Gallic friend : take heed lest some one who
perhaps owns to these things, hear what you are
saying, and begin to hold you, along widi Hie-
ronymus, in no great affection. For, since you
are a learned' man, not unreasonably will I ad-
monish you in the verse of that comic poet
who says, — ' Submission procures friends, while
truth gives rise to hatred.' Let rather, Postu-
mianus, your discourse to us about the East, so
well begun, now be resumed."

" Well," says he, " as I had commenced to
relate, I stayed with Hieronyraus six months,
who carried on an unceasing warfare against the
wicked, and a perpetual struggle in opposition
to the deadly hatred of ungodly men. The
heretics hate him, because he never desists from
attacking them ; the clerics hate him, because
he assails their life and crimes. But beyond
doubt, all the good admire and love him ; for
those people are out of their senses, who sup-
pose that he is a heretic. Let me tell the truth
on this point, which is that the knowledge of
the man is Catholic, and that his doctrine is
sound. He is always occupied in reading, al-
ways at his books with his whole heart : he takes
no rest day or night ; he is perpetually either
reading or writing something. In fact, had I
not been resolved in mind, and had promised

* " scholasticus."

to God first to visit- the desert previously referred
to, I should have grudged to depart even for the
shortest time from so -great a man. Handing
over, then, and entrusting to him all my pos-
sessions and my whole family, which having fol-
lowed me against my own inclination, kept me
in a state of embarrassment, and thus- being in
a sort of way delivered from a heavy burden,
and restored to freedom of action, I returned to
•Alexandria, and having visited the brethren
there I set out from the place for upper Thebais,
that is for the farthest off confines of Egypt.
For a great multitude of monks were said to
inhabit the widely extending solitudes of that
wilderness. But here it would be tedious, were
I to seek to narrate all the things which I wit-
nessed : I shall only touch lightly on a few
points,

CHAPTER X.

" Not far from the desert, and close to the
Nile, there are numerous monasteries. For the
most part, the monks there dwell together in
companies of a hundred ; and their highest rule is
to live under the orders of their Abbot, to do
nothing by their own inclination, but to depend
in all things on his will and authority. If it so
happens that any of them form in their minds
a lofty ideal of virtue, so as to wish to betake
themselves to the desert to live a solitary life,
they do not venture to act on this desire except
with the permission of the Abbot. In fact, this
is the first of virtues in their estimation, — to
live in obedience to the will of another. To
those who betake themselves to the desert, bread
or some other kind of food is furnished by the
command of that Abbot. Now, it so happened
that, in those days during which I had come
thither, the Abbot had sent bread to a certain
person who had withdrawn to the desert, and
hatl erected a tent for himself not more than six
miles from the monastery. This bread was sent
by the hands of two boys, the elder of whom
was fifteen, and the younger twelve years of age.
As these boys were returning home, an asp of
remarkable size encountered them, but they
were not the least afraid on meeting it ; and
moving up to their very feet, as if charmed by
some melody, it laid down its dark-green neck
before them. The younger of the boys laid hold
of it with his hand, and, wrapping it in his dress,
went on his way with it. Then, entering the
monastery with the air of a conqueror, and
meeting with the brethren, while all looked on,
he opened out his dress, and set down the im-
prisoned beast, not without some appearance of
boastfulness. But while the rest of the spec-
tators extolled the faith and virtue of the chil-

" propositam eremum."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

dren, the Abbot, with deeper insight, and to pre-
vent them at such a tender age from being puffed
up with pride, subjected both to punishment.
This he did after blaming them much for having
p.ul)hcly revealed what the Lord had wrought
through their instrumentality. He declared that
that was not to be attributed to their faith, but to
the Divine power ; and added that they should
rather learn to serve God in humility, and not
to glory in signs and wonders ; for that a sense
of their own weakness was better than any vain-
glorious exhibition of power.

CHAPTER XL

" When the monk whom I have mentioned
heard of this, — when he learned both that the
children had encountered danger through meet-
ing the snake, and that moreover, having got the
better of the serpent, they had received a sound
beating, — he implored the Abbot that henceforth
no bread or food of any kind should be sent to
him. And now the eighth day had passed since
that man of Christ had exposed himself to the
danger of perishing from hunger ; his limbs were
growing dry with fasting, but his mind fixed
upon heaven could not fail ; his body was wear-
ing away with abstinence, but his faith remained
firm. In the meantime, the Abbot was admon-
ished by the Spirit to visit that disciple. Under
the influence of a pious solicitude, he was eager
to learn by what means of preserving life that
faithful man was supported, since he had de-
clined any human aid in ministering to his ne-
cessities. Accordingly, he sets out in person to
satisfy himself on the subject. When the recluse
saw from a distance the old man coming to him,
he ran to meet him : he thanks him for the
visit, and conducts him to his cell. As they
enter the cell together, they behold a basket of
palm branches, full of hot bread, hanging fixed
at the door-post. And first the smell of the hot
bread is perceived ; but on touching it, it ap-
pears as if just a litde before it had been taken
from the oven. At the same time, they do not
recognize the bread as being of the shape com-
mon in Egypt. Both are filled with amazement,
and acknowledge the gift as being from heaven.
On the one side, the recluse declared that this
event was due to the arrival of the Abbot ;
while, on the other side, the Abbot ascribed it
rather to the faith and virtue of the recluse ; but
both broke the heaven-sent bread with exceed-
ing joy. And when, on his return to the mon-
astery, the old man reported to the brethren
what had occurred, such enthusiasm seized the
minds of all of them, that they vied with each
other in their haste to betake themselves to the
desert, and its sacred seclusion ; while they

declared themselves miserable in having made
their abode only too long amid a multitude,
where human fellowship had to be carried on
and endured.

CHAPTER XH.

" In this monastery I saw two old men who
were said to have already lived there for forty
years, and in fact never to have departed from
it. . I do not think that I should pass by all
mention of these men, since, indeed, I heard the
following statement made regarding their vir-
tues on the testimony of the Abbot himself, and
all the brethren, that in the case of one of
them, the sun never beheld him feasting, and in
the case of the other, the sun never saw him
angry."

Upon this, the Gaul looking at me exclaims :
" Would that a friend of yours — I do not wish
to mention his name — were now present; I
should greatly like him to hear of that example,
since we have had too much experience of his
bitter anger in the persons of a great many peo-
ple. Nevertheless, as I hear, he has lately for-
given his enemies ; and, in these circumstances,
were he to hear of the conduct of that man, he
would be more and more strengthened in his
forgiving course by the example thus set before
him, and would feel that it is an admirable vir-
tue not to fall under the influence of anger. I
will not indeed deny that he had just reasons
for his wrath ; but where the battle is hard, the
crown of victory is all the more glorious. For
this reason, I think, if you will allow me to say
so, that a certain man was justly to be praised,
because when an ungrateful freedman abandoned
him he rather pitied than inveighed against the
fugitive. And, indeed, he was not even angry
with the man by whom he seems to have been
carried off." '

Upon this I remarked : " Unless Postumianus
had given us that example of overcoming anger,
I would have been very angry on account of the
departure of the fugitive ; but since it is not
lawful to be angry, all remembrance of such
things, as it annoys us, ought to be blotted from
our minds. Let us rather, Postumianus, listen to
what you have got to say."

"I will do," says he, " Sulpitius, what you
request, as I see you are all so desirous of hear-
ing me. But remember that I do not address
my speech to you without hope of a larger
recompense ; I shall gladly perform what you
require, provided that, when ere long my turn
comes, you do not refuse what I ask."

"We indeed," said I, "have nothing by

' It appears impossible to give a certain rendering of these
words — "a quo videtur abductus."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

means of which we can return the obHgation we
shall lie under to you even without a larger
return.^ However, command us as to anything
vou have thought about, provided you satisfy
our desires, as you have already begun to do,
for your speech conveys to us true delight."

"■ I will stint nothing," said Postumianus, " of
your desires ; and inasmuch as you have recog-
nized the virtue of one recluse, I shall go on to
relate to you some few things about more such
persons.

CHAPTER Xni.

" Well then, when I entered upon the near-
est parts of the desert, about twelve miles from
the Nile, having as my guide one of the brethren
who was well acquainted with the localities, we
arrived at the residence of a certain old monk
who dwelt at the foot of a mountain. In that
place there was a well, which is a very rare thing
in these regions. The monk had one ox, the
whole labor of which consisted in drawing
water by moving a machine worked with a
wheel. This was the only way of getting at the
water, for the well was said to be a thousand or
more feet deep. There was also a garden there
full of a variety of vegetables. This, too, was
contrary to what might have been expected in
the desert where, all things being dry and burnt
up by the fierce rays of the sun produce not
even the slenderest root of any plant. But the
labor which in common with his ox, the monk
performed, as well as his own special industry,
produced such a happy state of things to the
holy man ; for the frequent irrigation in which
he engaged imparted such a fertility to the sand
that we saw the vegetables in his garden flour-
ishing and coming to maturity in a wonderful
manner. On these, then, the ox lived as well as
its master ; and from the abundance thus sup-
plied, the holy man provided us also with a din-
ner. There I saw what ye Gauls, perchance,
may not believe — a pot boiling without fire '
with the vegetables which were being got ready
for our dinner : such is the power of the sun in
that place that it is sufficient for any cooks, even
for preparing the -dainties of the Gauls. Then
after dinner, when the evening was coming on, our
host invites us to a palm-tree, the fruit of which
he was accustomed to use, and which was at a
distance of about two miles. For that is the
only kind of tree found in the desert, and even
these are rare, though they do occur. I am not
sure whether this is owing to the wise foresight
of former ages, or whether the soil naturally

2 " vel sine fa;nore."

1 Hornius strangely remarks on this, " Frequens id in Africa.
Quin et ferrum nimio solis ardore mollesccre scribunt qui interiorem
Libyain perlustrarunt."

produces them. It may indeed be that God,
knowing beforehand that the desert was one day
to be inhabited by the saints, prepared tliese
things for his servants. For those who settle
within these solitudes live for the most part on
the fruit of such trees, since no other kinds of
plants thrive in these quarters. Well, when we
came up to that tree to which the kindness of
our host conducted us, we there met with a lion ;
and on seeing it, both my guide and myself
began to tremble ; but the holy man went up
to it without delay, while we, though in great
terror, followed him. As if commanded by
God, the beast modestly withdrew and stood
gazing at us, while our friend, the monk, plucked
some fruit hanging within easy reach on the
lower branches. And, on his holding out his
hand filled with dates, the monster ran up to
him and received them as readily as any domes-
tic animal could have done ; and having eaten
them, it departed. We, beholding these things,
and being still under the influence of fear, could
not but perceive how great was the power of
faith in his case, and how weak it was in our-
selves.

CHAPTER XIV.

" We found another equally remarkable man
living in a small hut, capable only of containing
a single person. Concerning him we were told
that a she-wolf was accustomed to stand near
him at dinner ; and that the beast could by no
means be easily deceived so as to fail to be with
him at the regular hour when he took refresh-
ment. It was also said that the wolf waited at
the door until he offered her the bread which
remained over his own humble dinner ; that
she was accustomed to lick his hand, and then,
her duty being, as it were, fulfilled, and her re-
spects paid to him, she took her departure.
But it so happened that that holy man, while he
escorted a brother wiio had paid him a visit, on
his way home, was a pretty long time away, and
only returned under night. ^ In the meanwhile,
the beast made its appearance at the usual din-
ner time. Having entered the vacant cell and
perceived that its benefactor was absent, it be-
san to search round tlie hut with some curiositv
to discover, if possible, the inhabitant. Now
it so happened that a basket of palm-twigs was
hanging close at hand with five loaves of bread
in it. Taking one of these, the beast devoured
it, and then, having committed this evil deed,
went its way. The recluse on his return found
the basket in a state of disorder, and the num-
ber of loaves less than it should have been,

' " sub nocte " : this may be used for the usual classical form
" sub noctem," towards evening.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

He is aware of the loss of his household goods,
and observes near the threshold some fragments
of the loaf which had been stolen. Consider-
ing all this, he had little doubt as to the author
of the theft. Accordingly, when on the follow-
ing days the beast did not, in its usual way,
make its appearance (undoubtedly hesitating
from a consciousness of its audacious deed to
come to him on whom it had inflicted injury),
the recluse was deeply grieved at being deprived
of the happiness he had enjoyed in its society.
At last, being brought back through his prayers,
it appeared to him as usual at dinner time, after
the lapse of seven days. But to make clear to
every one the shame it felt, through regret for
what had been done, not daring to draw very
near, and with its eyes, from profound self-
abasement, cast upon the earth, it seemed, as
was plain to the intelligence of every one, to beg
in a sort of way, for pardon. The recluse, pity-
ing its confusion, bade it come close to him, and
then, with a kindly hand, stroked its head ;
while, by giving it two loaves instead of the
usual one, he restored the guilty creature to its
former position ; and, laying aside its misery on
thus having obtained forgiveness, it betook it-
self anew to its former habits. Behold, I beg of
you, even in this case, the power of Christ, to
whom all is wise that is irrational, and to whom
all is mild that is by nature savage. A wolf dis-
charges duty ; a wolf acknowledges the crime
of theft ; a wolf is confounded with a sense of
shame : when called for, it presents itself; it
offers its head to be stroked ; and it has a per-
ception of the pardon granted to it, just as if it
had a feeling of shame on account of its mis-
conduct, — this is thy power, O Christ — these,
O Christ, are thy marvelous works. For in
truth, whatever things thy servants do in thy
name are thy doings ; and in this only we find
cause for deepest grief that, while wild beasts
acknowledge thy majesty, intelligent beings fail
to do thee reverence.

CHAPTER XV.

" But lest this should perchance seem incred-
ible to any one, I shall mention still greater
things. I call Christ^ to witness that I invent
nothing, nor will I relate things published by
uncertain authors, but will set forth facts which
have been vouched for to me by trustworthy
men.

" Numbers of those persons live in the desert
without any roofs over their heads, whom people
call anchorites.- They subsist on the roots of

' " Fides Christi adest " : lit. " the faith of Christ is present."
2 Also spelt " anchoret": it means "one who has retired from
the world " (dva^wpeu)).

plants ; they settle nowhere in any fixed place,
lest they should frequently have men visiting
them ; wherever night compels them they choose
their abode. Well, two monks from Nitria
directed their steps towards a certain man living
in this stvle, and under these conditions. Thev
did so, although they were from a very different
quarter, because they had heard of his virtues,
and because he had formerly been their dear
and intimate friend, while a member of the same
monastery. They sought after him long and
much ; and at length, in the seventh month,
they found him staying in that far-distant wilder-
ness which borders upon Memphis. He was
said already to have dwelt in these solitudes for
twelve years ; but although he shunned inter-
course with all men, yet he did not shrink from
meeting these friends ; on the contrary, he
yielded himself to their affection for a period
of three days. On the fourth day, when he had
gone some distance escorting them in their
return journey, they beheld a lioness of remark-
able size coming towards them. The animal,
although meeting with three persons, showed no
uncertainty as to the one she made for, but
threw herself down at the feet of the anchorite :
and, lying there with a kind of weeping and
lamentation, she manifested mingled feelings of
sorrow and supplication. The sight affected all,
and especially him who perceived that he was
sought for : he therefore sets out, and the others
follow him. For the beast stopping from time
to time, and, from time to time looking back,
clearly wished it to be understood that the an-
chorite should follow wherever she led. What
need is there of many words? We arrived at
the den of the animal, where she, the unfortu-
nate mother, was nourishing five whelps already
grown up, which, as they had come forth with
closed eyes from the womb of their dam, so
they had continued in persistent blindness.
Bringing them out, one by one, from the hollow
of the rock, she laid them down at the feet of
the anchorite. Then at length the holy man
perceived what the creature desired ; and having
called upon the name of God, he touched with
his hand the closed eyes of the whelps ; and
immediately their blinclness ceased, while light,
so long denied them, streamed upon the open
eyes of the animals. Thus, those brethren,
having visited the anchorite whom they were
desirous of seeing, returned with a very precious
reward for their labor, inasmuch as, having been
permitted to be eye-witnesses of such power,
they had beheld the faith of the saint, and the
glory of Christ, to which they will in future
bear testimony. But I have still more mar\'els
to tell : the lioness, after five days, returned to
the man who had done her so great a kindness,
and brought him, as a gift, the skin of an un-

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

common animal. Frequently clad in this, as if
it were a cloak, that holy man did not disdain to
receive that gift through the instrumentality of
the beast ; while, all the time, he rather regarded

Another as being the giver

CHAPTER XVL

" There was also an illustrious name of an-
other anchorite in those regions, a man who
dwelt in that part of the desert which is about
Syene. This man, when first he betook himself
to the wilderness, intended to live on the roots
of plants which the sand here and there pro-
duces, of a very sweet and delicious flavor ; but
being ignorant of the nature of the herbs, he
often gathered those which were of a deadly
character. And, indeed, it was not easy to dis-
criminate between the kind of the roots by the
mere taste, since all were equally sweet, but
many of them, of a less known nature, contained
within them a deadly poison. When, therefore,
the poison within tormented him on eating
these, and all his vitals were tortured with ter-
rific pains, while frequent vomitings, attended
by excruciating agonies, were shattering the
very citadel of life, his stomach being completely
exhausted, he was in utter terror of all that had
to be eaten for sustaining existence. Having
thus fasted for seven days, he was almost at the
point of death, when a wild animal called an
Ibex came up to him. To this creature stand-
ing by him, he offered a bundle of plants which
he had collected on the previous day, yet had
not ventured to touch ; but the beast, casting
aside with its mouth those which were poisonous,
picked out such as it knew to be harmless. In
this way, that holy man, taught by its conduct
what he ought to eat, and what to reject, both
escaped the danger of dying of hunger and of
being poisoned by the plants. But it would be
tedious to relate all the facts which we have
either had personal knowledge of, or have heard
from others, respecting those who inhabit the
desert. I spent a whole year, and nearly seven
months more, of set purpose, within these soli-
tudes, being, however, rather an admirer of the
virtues of others, than myself making any at-
tempt to manifest the extraordinary endurance
which they displayed. For the greater part of
the time I lived with the old man whom I have
mentioned, who possessed the well and the ox.

CHAPTER XVII.

" I VISITED two monasteries of St. Anthony,
which are at the present day occupied by his
disciples. I also went to that place in which

the most blessed Paul, the first of the eremites,
had his abode. I saw the Red Sea and the
ridges of Mount Sinai, the top of which almost
touches heaven, and cannot, by any human
effort, be reached. An anchorite was said to
live somewhere within its recesses : and I sought
long and much to see him, but was unable to do
so. He had for nearly fifty years been removed
from all human fellowship, and used no clothes,
but was covered with bristles growing on his
own body, while, by Divine gift, he knew not of
his own nakedness. As often as any pious men
desired to visit him, making hastily for the path-
less wilderness, he shunned all meeting with his
kind. To one man only, about five years before
my visit, he was said to have granted an inter-
view ; and I beUeve that man obtained the
favor through the power of his faith. Amid
much talk which the two had together, the
recluse is said to have replied to the question
why he shunned so assiduously all human beings,
that the man who was frequently visited by
mortals like himself, could not often be visited
by angels. From this, not without reason, the
report had spread, and was accepted by multi-
tudes, that that holy man enjoyed angelic fellow-
ship. Be this as it may, I, for my part, departed
from Mount Sinai, and returned to the river Nile,
the banks of which, on both sides, I beheld
dotted over with numerous monasteries. I saw
that, for the most part, as I have already said,
the monks resided together in companies of a
hundred ; but it was well known that so many
as two or three thousand sometimes had their
abode in the same villages. Nor indeed would
one have any reason to think that the virtue of
the monks there dwelling together in great num-
bers, was less than that of those was known to
be, who kept themselves apart from human
fellowship. The chief and foremost virtue in
these places, as I have already said, is obedience.
In fact, any one applying for admission is not
received by the Abbot of the monastery on any
other condition than that he be first tried
and proved ; it being understood that he will
never afterwards decline to submit to any in-
junction of the Abbot, however arduous and
difficult, and though it may seem something
unworthy to be endured.

CHAPTER XVIII.

" I WILL relate two wonderful examples of
almost incredible obedience, and two only,
although many i)resent themselves to my recol-
lection ; but if, in any case, a few instances do
not suffice to rouse readers to an imitation of
the like virtues, many would be of no advantage.
Well then, when a certain man having laid aside

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

all worldly business, and having entered a mon-
astery of very ' strict discipline, begged that he
might be accepted as a member, the Abbot be-
gan to place many considerations before him, —
that the toils of that order were severe ; that his
own requirements were heavy, and such as no
one's endurance could easily comply with ; that
he should rather enquire after another monas-
tery where life was carried on under easier con-
ditions ; and that he should not try to attempt
that .which he was unable to accomplish. But
he was in no degree moved by these terrors ;
on the contrary, he all the more promised
obedience, saying that if the Abbot should
order him to walk into the fire, he would not
refuse to enter it. The Master then, having
accepted that profession of his, did not delay
putting it to the test. It so happened that an
iron vessel was close at hand, very hot, as it was
being got ready by a powerful fire for cooking
some loaves of bread : the flames were bursting
forth from the oven broken open, and fire raged
without restraint within the hollows of that fur-
nace. The Master, at this stage of affairs,
ordered the stranger to enter it, nor did he
hesitate to obey the command. Without a
moment's delay he entered into the midst of the
flames, which, conquered at once by so bold a
display of faith, subsided at his approach, as
happened of old to the well-known Hebrew
children. Nature was overcome, and the fire
gave way ; so that he, of whom it was thought
that he would be burned to death, had reason to
marvel at himself, besprinkled, as it were, with
a cooling dew. But what wonder is it, O Christ,
that that fire did not touch thy youthful soldier ?
The result was that, neither did the Abbot
regret having issued such harsh commands, nor
did the disciple repent having obeyed the
orders received. He, indeed, on the very day
on which he came, being tried in his weakness,
was found perfect ; deservedly happy, deservedly
glorious, having been tested in obedience, he
was glorified through suffering.

CHAPTER XIX.

" In the same monastery, the fact which I am
about to narrate was said to have occurred
within recent memory. A certain man had
come to the same Abbot in like manner with
the former, in order to obtain admission. When
the first law of obedience was placed before
him, and he promised an unfailing patience for
the endurance of all things however extreme, it
so happened that the Abbot was holding in his
hand a twig of storax already withered. This

^ " monasterium magnae dispositionis."

the Abbot fixed in the ground, and imposed this
work upon the visitor, that he should continue
to water the twig, until (what was against every
natural result) that dry piece of wood should
grow green in the sandy soil. Well, the stranger,
being placed under the authority of unbending
law, conveyed water every clay on his own
shoulders — water which had to be taken from
the river Nile, at almost two miles' distance.
And now, after a year had run its course, the
labor of that workman had not yet ceased, but
there could be no hope of the good success of
his undertaking. However, the grace of obedi-
ence continued to be shown in his labor. The
following year also mocked the vain labor of the
(by this time) weakened brother. At length,
as the third annual circle was gliding by, while
the workman ceased not, night or day, his
labor in watering, the twig began to show signs
of life. I have myself seen a small tree sprung
from that little rod, which, standing at the
present day with green branches in the court
of the monastery, as if for a witness of what has
been stated, shows what a reward obedience
received, and what a power faith can exert.
But the day would fail me before I could fully
enumerate the many different miracles which
have become known to me in connection with
the virtues of the saints.

CHAPTER XX.

" I WILL, however, still further give you an
account of two extraordinary marvels. The one
of these wiU be a notable warning against the
inflation of wretched vanity, and the other will
serve as no mean guard against the display of a
spurious righteousness.

"A certain saint, then, endowed with almost
incredible power in casting out demons from
the bodies of those possessed by them, was, day
by day, performing unheard-of miracles. For,
not only when present, and not merely by his
word, but while absent also, he, from time to
time, cured possessed bodies, by some threads
taken from his garment, or by letters which he
sent. He, therefore, was to a wonderful degree
visited by people who came to him from every
part of the world, I say nothing about those
of humbler rank ; but prefects, courtiers, and
judges of various ranks often lay at his doors.
Most holy bishops also, laying aside their priestly
dignity, and humbly imploring him to touch and
bless them, believed with good reason that they
were sanctified, and illumined with a divine
gift, as often as they touched his hand and gar-
ment. He was reported to abstain always and
utterly from every kind of drink, and for food
(I will whisper, this, Sulpitius, into your ear lest

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

our friend the Gaul hear it), to subsist upon
only six dried figs. But in the meantime, just
as honor accrued to the holy man from his
excellence,^ so vanity began to steal upon him
from the honor which was paid him. When
first he perceived that this evil was growing upon
him, he struggled long and earnestly to shake it
off, but it could not be thoroughly got rid of by
all his efforts, since he still had a secret con-
sciousness of being under the influence of vanity.
Everywhere did the demons acknowledge his
name, while he was not able to exclude? from
his presence the number of people who flocked
to him. The hidden poison was, in the mean-
time, working in his breast, and he, at whose
beck demons were expelled from the bodies of
others, was quite unable to cleanse himself from
the hidden thoughts of vanity. Betaking him-
self, therefore, with fervent supplication to God,
he is said to have prayed that, power being
given to the devil over him for five months, he
might become like to those whom he himself
had cured. Why should I delay with many
words ? That most powerful man, — he, re-
nowned for his miracles and virtues through all
the East, he, to whose threshold multitudes had
gathered) and at whose door the highest digni-
taries of that age had prostrated themselves —
laid hold of by a demon, was kept fast in
chains. It was only after having suffered all
those things which the possessed are wont to
endure, that at length in the fifth month he was
delivered, not only from the demon, but (what
was to him more useful and desirable) from the
vanity which had dwelt within him.

CHAPTER XXL

" But to me reflecting on these things, there
occurs the thought of our own unhappiness and
our own infirmity. For who is there of us,
whom if one despicable creature of a man has
humbly saluted, or one woman has praised with
foolish and flattering words, is not at once elated
with pride and puffed up with vanity? This
will bring it about that even though one does
not possess a consciousness of sanctity, yet, be-
cause through the flattery, or, it may be, the
mistake of fools, he is said to be a holy man,
he will, in fact, deem himself most holy ! And
then, if frequent gifts are sent to him, he will
maintain that he is so honored by the munifi-
cence of God, inasmuch as all necessary things
are bestowed upon him when sleeping and at
rest. But further, if some signs of any kind
of power fall to him even in a low degree, he

' " virtute," perhaps power, as in many other places.

will think himself no less than an angel. And
even if he is not marked out from others either
by acts or excellence, but is simply made a
cleric, he instantly enlarges the fringes of his
dress, delights in salutations, is puffed up by
people visiting him, and himself gads about
everywhere. Nay, the man who had been pre-
viously accustomed to travel on foot, or at most
to ride on the back of an ass, must needs now
ride proudly on frothing steeds ; formerly con-
tent to dwell in a small and humble cell, he
now builds a lofty fretted ceiling ; he constructs
many rooms ; he cuts and carves doors ; he
paints wardrobes ; he rejects the coarser kind
of clothing, and demands soft garments ; and he
gives such orders as the following to dear wid-
ows and friendly virgins, that the one class weave
for him an embroidered cloak, and the other a
flowing robe. But let us leave all these things
to be described more pungently by that blessed
man Hieronymus ; and let us return to the ob-
ject more immediately in view."

" Well," says our Gallic friend upon this, " I
know not indeed what you have left to be said
by Hieronymus ; you have within such brief
compass comprehended all our practices, that I
think these few words of yours, if they are taken
in good part, and patiently considered, will
greatly benefit those in question, so that they
will not require in future to be kept in order by
the books of Hieronymus. But do thou rather
go on with what you had begun, and bring for-
ward an example, as you said you would do,
against spurious righteousness ; for to tell you
the truth, we are subject to no more destructive
evil than this within the wide boundaries of
Gaul."

'• I will do so," replied Postumianus, " nor
will I any longer keep you in a state of expec-
tation.

CHAPTER XXn.

" A CERTAIN young man from Asia, exceed-
ingly wealthy, of distinguished family, and hav-
ing a wife and little son, happening to have been
a tribune in Egypt, and in frequent campaigns
against the Blembi to have touched on some
parts of the desert, and having also seen several
tents of the saints, heard the word of salvation
from the blessed John. And he did not "then
delay to show his contempt for an unprofitable
military life with its vain honor. Bravely enter-
ing into the wilderness, he in a short time be-
came distinguished as being perfect in every
kind of virtue. Capable of lengthened fasting,
conspicuous for humility, and steadfast in faith,
he had easily obtained a reputation in the pur-

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

suit of virtue equal to that of the monks of old.
But by and by, the thought (proceeding from
the devil) entered his mind that it would be
more proper for him to return to his native land
and be the means of saving his only son and his
family along with his wife ; which surely would
be more acceptable to God than if he, content
with only rescuing himself from the world,
should, not without impiety, neglect the salva-
tion of his friends. Overcome by the plausible
appearance of that kind of spurious righteous-
ness, the recluse, after a period of nearly four
years, forsook his cell and the end to which he
had devoted his life. But on arriving at the
nearest monastery, which was inhabited by
many brethren, he made known to them, in
reply to their questionings, the reason of his de-
parture and the object he had in view. All of
them, and especially the Abbot of that place,
sought to keep him back ; but the intention he
had unfortunately formed could not be rooted
out of his mind. Accordingly with an unhappy
obstinacy he went forth, and, to the grief of all,
departed from the brethren. But scarcely had
he vanished from their sight, when he was taken
possession of by a demon, and vomiting bloody
froth from his mouth, he began to lacerate him-
self with his own teeth. Then, having been
carried back to the same monastery on the
shoulders of the brethren, when the unclean
spirit could not be restrained within its walls, he
was, from dire necessity, loaded with iron fet-
ters, being bound both in hands and feet — a
punishment not undeserved by a fugitive, in-
asmuch as chains now restrained him whom
faith had not restrained. At length, after two
years, having been set free from the unclean
spirit by the prayers of the saints, he immedi-
ately returned to the desert from which he had
departed. In this way he was both himself cor-
rected and was rendered a warning to others,
that the shadow of a spurious righteousness
might neither delude any one, nor a shifting
fickleness of character induce any one, with un-
profitable inconstancy, to forsake the course on
which he has once entered. And now let it
suffice for you to learn these things respecting
the various operations of the Lord which he
has carried on in the persons of his servants ;
with the view either of stimulating others to a
like kind of conduct, or of deterring them
from particular actions. But since I have by
this time fully satisfied your ears — have, in fact,
been more lengthy than I ought to have been —
do you now (upon this he addressed himself to
me) — pay me the recompense you owe, by
letting us hear you, after your usual fashion,
discoursing about your friend Martin, for my
longings after this have already for a long time
been strongly excited."

CHAPTER XXIIL

"What," replied I, "is there not enough
about my friend Martin in that book of mine
which you know that I published respecting his
life and virtues? "

"I own it," said Postumianus, "and that
book of yours is never far from my right hand.
For if you recognize it, look here — (and so
saying he displayed the book which was con-
cealed in his dress) — here it is. This book,"
added he, " is my companion both by land and
sea : it has been my friend and comforter in all
my wanderings. But I will relate to you to what
places that book has penetrated, and how there
is almost no spot upon earth in which the sub-
ject of so happy a history is not possessed as a
well-known narrative. Paulinus, a man who has
the strongest regard for you, was the first to
bring it to the city of Rome ; and then, as it
was greedily laid hold of by the whole city, I
saw the booksellers rejoicing over it, inasmuch
as nothing was a source of greater gain to them,
for nothing commanded a readier sale, or fetched
a higher price. This same book, having got a
long way before me in the course of my travel-
ing, was already generally read through all
Carthage, when I came into Africa. Only that
presbyter of Cyrene whom I mentioned did not
possess it ; but he wrote down its contents from
my description. And why should I speak about
Alexandria? for there it is almost better known
to all than it is to yourself. It has passed
through Egypt, Nitria, the Thebaid, and the
whole of the regions of Memphis. I found it
being read by a certain old man in the desert ;
and, after I told him that I was your intimate
friend, this commission was given me both by
him and many other brethren, that, if I should
ever again visit this country, and find you well,
I should constrain you to supply those particu-
lars which you stated in your book you had
passed over respecting the virtues of the sainted
man. Come then, as I do not desire you to
repeat to me those things which are already
sufficiently known from what you have written,
let those other points, at my request and that of
many others, be fully set forth, which at the
time of your writing you passed over, to pre-
vent, as I beheve, any feeling of weariness on
the part of your readers."

CHAPTER XXIV.

"Indeed, Postumianus," replied I, "while I
was listening attentively, all this time, to you
talking about the excellences of the saints, in
my secret thoughts I had my mind turned to my
friend Martin, observing on the best of grounds

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

that all those things which different individuals
had done separately, were easily and entirely ac-
complished by that one man alone. For, although
you certainly related lofty deeds, I really heard
nothing from your lips (may I say it, without of-
fence to these holy men), in which Martin was
inferior to any one of them. And while I hold
that the excellence of no one of these is ever to
be compared with the merits of that man, still
this point ought to be attended to, that it is un-
fair he should be compared, on the same terms,
with the recluses of the desert, or even with the
anchorites. For they, at freedom from every
hindrance, with heaven only and the angels as
witnesses, were clearly instructed to perform ad-
mirable deeds ; he, on the other hand, in the
midst of crowds and intercourse with human
beings — among quarrelsome clerics, and among
furious bishops, while he was harassed with al-
most daily scandals on all sides, nevertheless
stood absolutely firm with unconquerable virtue
against all these things, and performed such won-
ders as not even those accomplished of whom
we have heard that they are, or at one time were,
in the wilderness. But even had they done
things equal to his, what judge would be so un-
just as not, on good grounds, to decide that he
was the more powerful? For put the case that
he was a soldier who fought on unfavorable
ground, and yet turned out a conqueror, and
compare them, in like manner, to soldiers, who,
however, contended on equal terms, or even on
favorable terms, with the enemy. What then?
Although the victory of all is one and the same,
the glory of all certainly cannot be equal. And
even though you have narrated marvelous things,
still you have not stated that a dead man was
recalled to life by any one. In this one particu-
lar undoubtedly, it must be owned that no one
is to be compared with Martin.

CHAPTER XXV.

"For, if it is worthy of admiration that the
flames did not touch that Egyptian of whom
you have spoken, Martin also not infrequently
proved his power over fire. If you remind us
that the savagery of wild beasts was conquered
by, send yielded to, the anchorites, Martin, for
his part, was accustomed to keep in check both
the fury of wild beasts and the poison of ser-
pents. But, if you bring forward for compari-
son him who cured those possessed of unclean
spirits, by the authority of his word, or even
through the instrumentality of threads from his
dress, there are many proofs that Martin was
not, even in this respect, inferior. Nay, should
you have recourse to him, who, covered with his
own hair instead of a garment, was thought to

be visited by angels, with Martin angels were
wont to hold daily discourse. Moreover, he
bore so unconquerable a spirit against vanity and
boastfulness, that no one more determinedly dis-
dained these vices, and that, although he often,
while absent, cured those who were filled with
unclean spirits, and issued his commands not
only to courtiers or prefects, but also to kings
themselves. This was indeed a very small
thing amid his other virtues, but I should wish
you to believe that no one ever contended more
earnestly than he did against not only vanity,
but also the causes and the occasions of vanity.
I shall also mention what is indeed a small
point, but should not be passed over, because it
is to the credit of a man who, being possessed
of the highest power, manifested such a pious
desire to show his regard for the blessed Martin.
I remember, then, that Vincentius the prefect,
an illustrious man, and one of the most eminent
in all Gaul for every kind of virtue, when he had
occasion to be in the vicinity of Tours, often
begged of Martin that he would allow him to
stay with him in the monastery. In making
this request, he brought forward the example of
Saint Ambrose, the bishop, who was generally
spoken of at that time as being in the habit of
entertaining both consuls and prefects. But
Martin, with deeper judgment, refused so to act,
lest by so doing some vanity and inflation of
spirit might steal upon him. You, therefore,
must acknowledge that there existed in Martin
the virtues of all those men whom you have
mentioned, but there were not found in all of
them the virtues by which Martin was distin-
guished."

CHAPTER XXVI.

" Why do you," here exclaimed Postumianus,
" speak to me in such a manner? As if I did
not hold the same opinion as yourself, and had
not always been of the same mind. I, indeed,
as long as I live, and retain my senses, will ever
celebrate the monks of Egypt : I will praise the
anchorites ; I will admire the eremites ; but I
will place Martin in a position of his own : I do
not venture to compare to him any one of the
monks, far less any of the bishops. Egypt owns
this : Syria and ^'lithiopia have discovered this :
India has heard this ; Parthia and Persia have
known this ; not even Armenia is ignorant of it ;
the remote Bosphorus is aware of it ; and in a
word, those are acquainted with it who visit
the P'ortunate Islands or the Arctic Ocean. All
the more wretched on this account is this coun-
try of ours, which has not been found worthy to
be acquainted with so great a man, although he
was in its immediate vicinity. However, I will

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

not include the people at large in this censure :
only the clerics, only the priests know nothing
of him ; and not without reason were they, in
their ill-will, disinclined to know him, inasmuch
as, had they become acquainted with his virtues,
they must have recognized their own vices. I
shudder to state what I have lately heard, that
a miserable man (I know him not), has said
that you have told many lies in that book of
yours. This is not the voice of a man, but of
the devil ; and it is not Martin who is, in this
way, injured, but faith is taken from the Gospels
themselves. For, since the Lord himself testi-
fied of works of the kind which Martin accom-
plished, that they were to be performed by all
the faithful, he who does not believe that Martin
accomplished such deeds, simply does not be-
lieve that Christ uttered such words. But the
miserable, the degenerate, the somnolent, are
put to shame, that the things which they them-
selves cannot do, were done by him, and prefer
rather to deny his virtues than to confess their
own inertness. But let us, as we hasten on to
other matters, let go all remembrance of such
persons : and do you rather, as I have for a long
time desired, proceed to narrate the still untold
deeds of Martin."

" Well," said I, " I think that your request
would more properly be directed to our friend
the Gaul, since he is acquainted with more of
Martin's doings than I am — for a disciple could
not be ignorant of the deeds of his master — and
who certainly owes a return of kindness, not
only to Martin, but to both of us, inasmuch as
I have already published my book, and you have,
so far, related to us the doings of our brethren
in the East. Let then, our friend the Gaul
commence that detailed account which is due
from him : because, as I have said, he both
owes us a return in the way of speaking, and
will, I believe, do this much for his friend Mar-
tin— that he shall, not unwillingly, give a nar-
rative of his deeds."

CHAPTER XXVII.

"Well," said the Gaul, "I, for my part,
though I am unequal to so great a task, feel
constrained by those examples of obedience
which have been related above by Postumianus,
not to refuse that duty which you impose upon
me. But when I reflect that I, a man of Gaul,'
am about to speak in the presence of natives of
Aquitania, I fear lest my somewhat rude form
of speech should offend your too delicate ears.

1 The word Caw/ must here be taken in its more limited sense
as denoting only the country- of the Celtae. See the well-known
first sentence of Csesar's Gallic War.

However, you will listen to me as a foolish sort^
of man, who says nothing in an affected or stilted
foshion. For if you have conceded to me that
I was a disciple of Martin, grant me this also
that I be allowed, under the shelter of his ex-
ample, to despise the vain trappings of speech
and ornaments of words."

"Certainly," replied Postumianus, "speak either
in Celtic, or in Gaulish, if you prefer it, provided
only you speak of Martin. But for my part, I
believe, that, even though you were dumb,
words would not be wanting to you, in which
you might speak of Martin with eloquent lips,
just as the tongue of Zacharias was loosed at the
naming of John. But as you are, in fact, an
orator,^ you craftily, like an orator, begin by
begging us to excuse your unskillfulness, because
you really excel in eloquence. But it is not
fitting either that a monk should show such cun-
ning, or that a Gaul should be so artful. But to
work rather, and set forth what you have still
got to say, for we have wasted too much time
already in dealing with other matters ; and the
lengthening shadow of the declining sun warns
us that no long portion of day remains till night
be upon us. Then, after we had all kept silence
for a little, the Gaul thus begins — "I think I
must take care in the first place not to repeat
those particulars about the virtues of Martin,
which our friend Sulpitius there has related in
his book. For this reason, I shall pass over his
early achievements, when he was a soldier ; nor
will I touch on those things which he did as a
layman and a monk. At the same time, I shall
relate nothing which I simply heard from others,
but only events of which I myself was an eye-
witness."

DIALOGUE II.

CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF ST. MARTIN.

CHAPTER I.

" Well then, when first, having left the schools,
I attached myself to the blessed man, a few
days after doing so, we followed him on his way
to the church. In the way, a poor man, half-
naked in these winter-months, met him, and
begged that some clothing might be given him.
Then Martin, calling for the chief-deacon, gave
orders that the shivering creature should be
clothed without delay. After that, entering a
private apartment, and sitting down by himself,
as his custom was — for he secured for himself
this retirement even in the church, liberty being

^ " Gurdonicus ": a word said to have been derived from the name
of a people in Spain noted for their stolidity.
3 " Scholasticus."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

granted to the clerics, since indeed the pres-
byters were seated in another apartment, either
spending their time in mutual ^ courtesies, or
occupied in listening to affairs of business. But
Martin kept himself in his own seclusion up to
the hour at which custom required that the
sacred rites should be dispensed to the people.
And I will not pass by this point that, when
sitting in his retirement, he never used a chair ;
and, as to the church, no one ever saw him
sitting there, as I recently saw a certain man
(God is my witness), not without a feeling of
shame at the spectacle, seated on a lofty throne,
yea, in its elevation, a kind of royal tribunal ;
but Martin might be seen sitting on a rude little
stool, such as tliose in use by the lowest of
servants, which we Gallic country-peojDle call
tripets^ and which you men of learning, or those
at least who are from Greece, call tripods. Well,
that poor man who had been chanced upon, as
the chief-deacon delayed to give him the gar-
ment, rushed into this private apartment of the
blessed man, complaining that he had not been
attended to by the cleric, and bitterly mourning
over the cold he suffered. No delay took place :
the holy man, while the other did not obsen-e,
secretly drew off his tunic which was below his
outer ^ garment, and clothing the poor man with
this, told him to go on his way. Then, a little
after, the chief-deacon coming in informs him,
according to custom, that the people were wait-
ing in the church, and that it was incumbent on
him to proceed to the performance of the sacred
rites. Martin said to him in reply that it was
necessary that the poor man — referring to him-
self— should be clothed, and that he could not
possibly proceed to the church, unless the poor
man received a garment. But the deacon, not
understanding the true state of the case — that
Martin, while outwardly clad with a cloak, was
not seen by him to be naked underneath, at
last begins to complain that the poor man does
not make his appearance. ' Let the garment
which has been got ready,' said Martin, 'be
brought to me ; there will not be wanting the
poor man requiring to . be clothed.' Then, at
length, the cleric, constrained by necessity, and
now in not the sweetest temper, hurriedly pro-
cures a rough ^ garment out of the nearest shop,
short and shaggy, and costing only five pieces
of silver, and lays it, in wrath, at the feet of
Martin. ' See,' cries he, ' there is the garment,
but the poor man is not here.' Martin, nothing
moved, bids him go to the door for a litde, thus

' " salutationibus vacantes ": this is, in the origitial, a very
confused and obscure sentence.

- Halm edits " tripeccias," which may have been the local
fatois for " tripetias " (ter-pes) , corresponding to the Greek TpiTrou?,
and meaning " a three-legged stool."

^ " Amphibalum": a late Latin word corresponding to the more
classical toga.

* " bigerricam vestcm."

obtaining secrecy, while, in his nakedness, he
clothes himself with the garment, striving with
all his might to keep secret what he had done.
But when do such things remain concealed in
the case of the saints desirina; that thev should
be so ? "Whether they will or not, all are brought
to light.

CHAPTER IL

" Martin, then, clothed in this garment, pro-
ceeds to offer the sacrifice ' to God. And then
on that very day — I am about to narrate some-
thing wonderful — when he was engaged in
blessing the altar, as is usual, we beheld a globe
of fire dart from his head, so that, as it rose on
high, the flame produced a hair of extraordinary
length. And, although we saw this take place
on a very famous day in the midst of a great
multitude of people, only one of the virgins, one
of the presbyters, and only three of the monks,
witnessed the sight : but why the others did not
behold it is a matter not to be decided by our
judgment.

" About the same time, when my uncle Evan-
thius, a highly Christian man, although occupied
in the affairs of this world, had begun to be
afflicted with a very serious illness, to the ex-
treme danger of his life, he sent for ^Lartin.
And, without any delay, ^Martin hastened towards
him ; but, before the blessed man had com-
pleted the half of the distance between them,
the sick man experienced the power of him that
was coming ; and, being immediately restored
to health, he himself met us as we were ap-
proaching. With many entreaties, he detained
Martin, who wished to return home on the fol-
lowing day ; for, in the meantime, a serpent had
struck with a deadly blow a boy belonging to
my uncle's family ; and Evanthius himself, on
his own shoulders, carried him all but lifeless
through the force of the poison, and laid him at
the feet of the holy man, believing that nothing
was impossible to him. By this time, the ser-
pent had diffused its poison through all the
.members of the boy : one could see his skin
swollen in all his veins, and his vitals strung up
like a leather-bottle. Martin stretched forth
his hand, felt all the limbs of the boy, and
placed his finger close to the little wound, at
which the animal had instilled the poison.
Then in truth — I am going to tell things won-
derful— we saw the whole poison, drawn from
every part of the body, gather quickly together
to Martin's finger ; and next, we beheld the
poison mixed with blood press through the
small puncture of the wound, just as a long line

^ " oblaturus sacrificium."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

of abundant milk is wont to flow forth from the
teats of goats or sheep, when these are squeezed
by the hand of shepherds. The boy rose up quite
welL We were amazed by so striking a miracle ;
and we acknowledged — as, indeed, truth com-
pelled us to do — that there was no one imder
heaven who could equal the deeds of Martin.

CHAPTER III.

" In the same way, some time afterAvards, we
made a journey with him while he visited the
various parishes in his diocese. He had gone
forward a little by himself, some necessity or
other, I know not what, compelling us to keep
behind. In the meantime, a state-conveyance,
full of military men, was coming along the pub-
lic highwav. But when the animals near the
side beheld IMartin in his shaggy garment, with
a long black cloak over it, being alarmed, they
swerved a little in the opposite direction. Then,
the reins getting entangled, they threw into con-
fusion those extended lines in which, as you
have often seen, those wretched creatures are
held together ; and as they were with difficulty
rearranged, delay, of course, was caused to those
people hastening forward. Enraged by this in-
jury, the soldiers, with hasty leaps, made for the
ground. And then they began to belabor Mar-
tin with whips and staves ; and as he, in silence
and with incredible patience, submitted his back
to them smiting him, this roused the greater
fury in these wretches, for they became all the
more violent from the fact, that he, as if he did
not feel the blows showered upon him, seemed
to despise them. He fell almost lifeless to the
earth ; and we, ere long, found him covered
with blood, and wounded in every part of his
body. Lifting him up without delay, and plac-
ing him upon his own ass, while we execrated
the place of that cruel bloodshed, we hastened
off as speedily as possible. In the meantime,
the soldiers having returned to their conveyance,
after their fury was satisfied, urge the beasts to
proceed in the direction in which they had been
going. But they all remained fixed to the spot,
as stiiT as if they had been brazen statues, and
although their masters shouted at them, and the
sound of their whips echoed on every side, still
the animals never moved. These men next all
fall to \vith lashes; in fact, while punishing the
mules, they waste all the Gallic whips they had.
The whole of the neighboring wood is laid hold
of, and the beasts are beaten with enormous
cudgels ; but these cruel hands still effected
nothing : the animals continued to stand in one
and the same place hke fixed effigies. The
wretched men knew not what to do, and they
could no longer conceal from themselves that.

in some way or other, there was a higher power
at work in the bosoms of these brutes, so that
they were, in fact, restrained by the interposition
of a deity. At length, therefore, returning to
themselves, they began to enquire who he was
whom but a little before they had scourged at
the same place ; and when, on pursuing the
investigation, they ascertained from those on
the way that it was Martin who had been so
cruelly beaten by them, then, indeed, the cause
of their misfortune appeared manifest to all ;
and they could no longer doubt that they were
kept back on account of the injury done to that
man. Accordingly, they all rush after us at full
speed, and, conscious of what they had done
and deserved, overwhelmed with shame, weep-
ing, and having their heads and faces smeared*
with the dust with which they themselves had
besprinkled their bodies, they cast themselves
at Martin's feet, imploring his pardon, and
begging that he would allow them to proceed.
They added that they had been sufficiently pun-
ished by their conscience alone, and that they
deeply felt that the earth might swallow them
alive in that very spot, or that rather, they, losing
all sense, might justly be stiffened into immov-
able rocks, just as they had seen their beasts of
burden fixed to the places in which they stood ;
but they begged and entreated him to extend
to them pardon for their crime, and to allow
them to go on their way. The blessed man had
been aware, before they came up to us, that they
were in a state of detention, and had already
informed us of the fact ; however, he kindly
granted them forgiveness ; and, restoring their
animals, permitted them to pursue their journey.

CHAPTER IV.

" I HAVE often noticed this, Sulpitius, that
Martin was accustomed to say to you, that such
an abundance ^ of power was by no means
granted him while he was a bishop, as he re-
membered to have possessed before he obtained
that office. Now, if this be true, or rather since
it is true, we may imagine how great those
things were which, while still a monk, he ac-
complished, and which, without any witness, he
effected apart by himself; since we have seen
that, while a bishop, he performed so great won-
ders' before the eyes of all. Many, no doubt, of
his former achievements were known to the
world, and could not be hid, but those are said
to have been innumerable which, while he
avoided boastfulness, he kept concealed and
did not allow to come to the knowledge of man-
kind ; for, inasmuch as he transcended the capa-

1 " earn virtutum gratiam."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

bilities of mere man, in a consciousness of his
own eminence, and trampling upon worldly
glory, he was content simply to have heaven as
a witness of his deeds. That this is true we
can judge even from these things which are well
known to us, and could not be hid ; since e.g.
before he became a bishop he restored two dead
men to life, facts of which your book has treated
pretty fully, but, while he was bishop, he raised
up only one, a point which I am surprised you
have not noticed. I myself am a witness to this
latter occurrence ; but, probably, you have no
doubts about the matter being duly testified.
At any rate, I will set before you the affair as it
happened. For some reason, I know not what,
we were on our way to the town of the Carnutes.-
In the meantime, as we pass by a certain village
most populous in inhabitants, an enormous crowd
went forth to meet us, consisting entirely of
heathen ; for no one in that village was ac-
quainted with a Christian. Nevertheless, owing
to the report of the approach of so great a man,
a multitude of those streaming to one point had
filled all the widely spreading plains. Martin
felt that some work was to be performed ; and
as the spirit within him was thus moving him,
he was deeply excited. He at once began to
preach to the heathen the word of God, so
utterly different from that of man, often groaning
that so great a crowd should be ignorant of the
Lord the Saviour. Li the meantime, while an
incredible multitude had surrounded us, a cer-
tain woman, whose son had recently died, began
to present, with outstretched hands, the lifeless
body to the blessed man, saying, "We know
that you are a friend of God : restore me my
son, who is my only one." The rest of the mul-
titude joined her, and added their entreaties to
those of the mother. Martin perceiving, as he
afterwards told us, that he could manifest power,
in order to the salvation of those waiting for its
display, received the body of the deceased into
his own hands ; and when, in the sight of all, he
had fallen on his knees, and then arose, after
his prayer was finished, he restored to its mother
the child brought back to fife. Then, truly, the
whole multitude, raising a shout to heaven, ac-
knowletlged Christ as God, and finally began to
rush in crowds to the knees of the blessed man,
sincerely imploring that he would make them
Christians. Nor did he delay to do so. As
they were in the middle of the plain, he made
them all catechumens, by placing his hand upon
the whole of them ; while, at the same time,
turning to us, he said that, not without reason,
were these made catechumens in that plain
where the martyrs were wont to be consecrated."

- The Carnutes dwelt on both sides of the Loire, and their chief
town, here referred to, was Autricum, now Chartres.

CHAPTER V.

"You have conquered, O Gaul," said Postu-
mianus, " you have conquered, although cer-
tainly not me, who am, on the contrary, an
upholder of Martin, and who have always known
and believed all these things about that man ;
but you have conquered all the eremites and
anchorites. For no one of them, like your
friend, or rather our friend, Martin, ruled over
deaths of alP kinds. And Sulpitius there justly
compared him to the apostles and prophets,
inasmuch as the power of his faith, and the
works accomplished by his power, bear witness
that he was, in all points, like them. But go
on, I beg of you, although we can hear nothing
more striking than we have heard — still, go on,
O Gaul, to set forth what still remains of what
you have to say concerning Martin. For the
mind is eager to know even the least and com-
monest of his doings, since there is no doubt
that the least of his actions surpass the greatest
deeds of others."

" I will do so," replies the Gaul, " but I did
not myself witness what I am about to relate,
for it took place before I became an associate
of Martin's ; still, the fact is well known, having
been spread through the world by the accounts
given by faithful brethren, who were present on
the occasion. Well, just about the time when
he first became a bishop, a necessity arose for
his visiting the imperial" court. Valentinian,
the elder, then was at the head of affairs.
When he came to know that Martin was asking
for things which he did not incline to grant, he
ordered him to be kept from entering the doors
of the palace. Besides his own unkind and
haughty temper, his wife Arriana had urged
him to this course, and had wholly alienated
him from the holy man, so that he should not
show him the regard which was due to him.
Martin, accordingly, when he had once and
again endeavored to procure an interview with
the haughty prince, had recourse to his well-
known weapons — he clothes himself in sack-
cloth, scatters ashes upon his person, abstains
from food and drink, and gives himself, night
and day, to continuous prayer. On the seventh
day, an angel appeared to him, and tells him to
go with confidence to the palace, for that the
royal doors, although closed against him, would
open of their own accord, and that the haughty
spirit of the emperor would be softened. Mar-
tin, therefore, being encouraged by the address
of the angel who thus appeared to him, and
trusting to his assistance, went to the palace.
The doors stood open, and no one opposed his

« " mortibus."

- " adire comitatum": this is a common meaning oi comztatus
in writers of the period.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUa

entrance ; so that, going in, he came at last into
the presence of the king, without any one seek-
ing to hinder him. The king, however, seeing
him at a distance as he approached, and gnash-
ing his teeth that he had been admitted, did not,
by any means, condescend to rise up as Martin
advanced, until fire covered the royal seat, and
until the flames seized on a part of the royal
person. In this way the haughty monarch is
driven from his throne, and, much against his
will, rises up to receive Martin. He even gave
many embraces to the man whom he had
formerly determined to despise, and, coming to
a better frame of mind, he confessed that he
perceived the exercise of Divine power ; without
waiting even to listen to the requests of Martin,
he granted all he desired before being asked.
Afterwards the king often invited the holy man
both to conferences and entertainments ; and,
in the end, when he was about to depart, offered
him many presents, which, however, the blessed
man, jealously maintaining his own poverty,
totally refused, as he did on all similar occa-
sions.

CHAPTER VI.

" And as we have, once for all, entered the
palace, I shall string together events which there
took place, although they happened at different
times. And, indeed, it does not seem to me
right that I should pass unmentioned the ex-
ample of admiration for Martin which was
shown by a faithful queen. Maximus then ruled
the state, a man worthy of being extolled in^ his
whole life, if only he had been permitted to re-
ject a crown thrust upon him by the soldiery in
an illegal tumult, or had been able to keep out of
civil war. But the fact is, that a great empire
can neither be refused without danger, nor can
be preserved without war. He frequently sent
for Martin, received him into the palace, and
treated him with honor ; his whole speech with
him was concerning things present, things to
come, the glory of the faithful, and the immor-
taUty of the saints ; while, in the meantime, the
queen hung upon the lips of Martin, and not
inferior to her mentioned in the Gospel, washed
the feet of the holy man with tears and wiped
them with the hairs of her head. Martin,
though no woman had hitherto touched him,
could not escape her assiduity, or rather her
servile attentions. She did not think of the
wealth of the kingdom, the dignity of the em-
pire, the crown, or the purple ; only stretched
upon the ground, she could not be torn away
from the feet of Martin. At last she begs of

^ Halm's text is here followed. The older texts, which read " vir
Omni vitae merito praedicandus," seem hardly intelligible.

her husband (saying that both of them should
constrain Martin to agree) that all other attend-
ants should be removed from the holy man, and
that she alone should wait upon him at meals.
Nor could the blessed man refuse too obsti-
nately. His modest entertainment is got up by
the hands of the queen ; she herself arranges
his seat for him ; places his table ; furnishes
him with water for his hands ; and serves up the
food which she had herself cooked. While he
was eating, she, with her eyes fixed on the
gro.und, stood motionless at a distance, after
the fashion of servants, displaying in all points
the modesty and hamility of a ministering ser-
vant. She herself mixed for him his drink and
presented it. When the meal was over, she
collected the fragments and crumbs of the
bread that had been used, preferring with true
faithfulness these remains to imperial banquets.
Blessed woman ! worthy, by the display of so
great piety, of being compared to her who came
from the ends of the earth to hear Solomon, if
we merely regard the plain letter of the history.
But the faith of the two queens is to be com-
pared (and let it be granted me to say this,
setting aside the majesty of the secret^ truth
implied): the one obtained her desire to hear
a wise man ; the other was thought worthy not
only to hear a wise man, but to wait upon
him."

CHAPTER VII.

To these sayings Postumianus replies : " While
listening to you, O Gaul, I have for a long time
been admiring the faith of the queen ; but to
what does that statement of yours lead, that no
woman was ever said to have stood more close
to Martin? For let us consider that that queen
not only stood near him, but even ministered
unto him. I really fear lest those persons who
freely mingle among women should to some ex-
tent defend themselves by that example."

Then said the Gaul : " Why do you not notice,
as grammarians are wont to teach us, the place,
the time, and the person? For only set before
)'our eyes the picture of one kept in the palace
of the emperor importuned by prayers, con-
strained by the faith of the queen, and bound
by the necessities of the time, to do his utmost
that he might set free those shut up in prison,
might restore those who had been sent into
exile, and might recover goods that had been
taken away, — of how much importance do you
think that these things should have appeared to
a bishop, so as to lead him, in order to the
accomplishment of them all, to abate not a lit-
tle of the rigor of his general scheme of life?

^ " Quod mihi liceat separata mysterii majestate dixisse."

JDIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

However, as you think that some will make a
bad use of the example thus furnished them, I
shall only say that those will be truly happy if
they do not fall short of the excellence of the
example in question. For let them consider
that the facts of the case are these : once in
his life only, and that when in his seventieth
year, was Martin served and waited upon at his
meals, not by a free sort of widow, nor by a
wanton virgin, but by a queen, who lived under
the authority of a husband, and who was sup-
ported in her conduct by the entreaties of .her
husband, that she might be allowed so to act.
It is further to be observed that she did not re-
cline with Martin at the entertainment, nor did
she venture even to partake in the feast, but
simply gave her services in waiting upon him.
Learn, therefore, the proper course ; let a ma-
tron serve thee, and not rule thee ; and let
her serve, but not recline along with thee ; just
as Martha, of whom we read, waited upon the
Lord without being called to partake in the
feast : nay, she who chose rather simply to hear
the word was preferred to her that served. But
in the case of Martin, the queen spoken of ful-
filled both parts : she both served like Martha,
and listened like Mary. If any one, then, de-
sires to make use of this example, let him keep
to it in all particulars ; let the cause be the
same, the person the same, the service the
same, and the entertainment the same, — and
let the thing occur once only in one's whole life."

CHAPITER VIII.

"ADMIR.A.BLY," exclaimed Postumianus, "does
your speech bind those friends of ours from
going beyond the example of Martin ; but I own
to you my belief that these remarks of yours will
fall upon deaf ears. For if we were to follow the
ways of Martin, we should never need to defend
ourselves in the case of kissing, and we should be
free from all the reproaches of sinister opinion.
But as you are wont to say, when you are ac-
cused of being too fond of eating, ' We are
Gauls,' so we, for our part, who dwell in this
district, will never be reformed either by the ex-
ample of Martin, or by your dissertations. But
while we have been discussing these points at so
great length, why do you, Sulpitius, preserve such
an obstinate silence?"

" Well, for my part," replied I, " I not only
keep silence, but for a long time past I have
determined to be silent upon such points. For,
because I rebuked a certain spruce gadding-
about widow, who dressed expensively, and
lived in a somewhat loose manner, and also a
virgin, who was following somewhat indecently
a certain young man who was dear to me, — al-

though, to be sure, I had often heard her blam-
ing others who acted in such a manner, — I
raised up against me such a degree of hatred on
the part of all the women and all the monks,
that both bands entered upon sworn war against
me. Wherefore, be quiet, I beg of you, lest
even what we are saying should tend to increase
their animosity towards me. Let us entirely blot
out these people from our memory, and let us
rather return to Martin. Do thou, friend Gaul,
as you have begun, carry out the work you have
taken in hand.."

Then says he : "I have really related al-
ready so many things to you, that my speech
ought to have satisfied your desires ; but, because
I am not at liberty to refuse compliance with
your wishes, I shall continue to speak as long as
the day lasts. For, in truth, when I glance at
that straw, which is being prepared for our beds,
there comes into my mind a recollection re-
specting the straw on which Martin had lain,
that a miracle was wrought in connection with
it. The affair took place as follows. Claudio-
raagus is a village on the confines of the Bituri-
ges and the Turoni. The church there is cele-
brated for the piety of the saints, and is not less
illustrious for the multitude of the holy virgins.
Well, Martin, being in the habit of passing that
way, had an apartment in the private part of the
church. After he left, all the virgins used to
rush into that retirement : they kiss^ every place
where the blessed man had either sat or stood,
and distribute among themselves the very straw
on which he had lain. One of them, a few days
afterwards, took a part of the straw which she
had collected for a blessing to herself, and hung
it from the neck of a possessed person, whom a
spirit of error was troubling. There was no
delay ; but sooner than one could speak the
demon was cast out, and the person was cured.

CHAPTER IX.

" About the same time, a cow which a demon
harassed met Martin as he was returning from
Treves. That cow, leaving its proper herd, was
accustomed to attack human beings, and had
already seriously gored many with its horns.
Now, when she was coming near us, those who
followed her from a distance began to warn us,
with a loud voice, to beware of her. But after
she hati in great fury come pretty near to us,
with rage in her eyes, Martin, lifting up his
hand, ordered the animal to halt, and she im-
mediately stood stock-still at his word. Upon
this, Martin perceived a demon sitting upon her
back, and reproving it, he exclaimed, ' Begone,

1 "adlambuut"; perhaps only " touch."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

thou deadly being ; leave the innocent beast, and
cease any longer to torment it.' The evil spirit
obeyed and departed. And the heifer had sense
enough to understand that she was set free ; for,
peace being restored to her, she fell at the feet
of the holy man ; and on Martin directing her,
she made for her own herd, and, quieter than
any sheep, she joined the rest of the band.
This also was the time at which he had no sen-
sation of being burnt, although placed in the
midst of the flames ; but I do not think it nec-
essarv for me to give an account of this, because
Sulpitius there, though passing over it in his
book, has nevertheless pretty fully narrated it in
the epistle which he sent to Eusebius, who was
then a presbyter, and is now a bishop. I believe,
Postumianus, you have either read this letter, or,
if it is still unknown to you, you may easily ob-
tain it, when you please, from the bookcase.
I shall simply narrate particulars which he has
omitted.

" Well, on a certain occasion, when he was
going round the various parishes, we came upon
a band of huntsmen. The dogs were pursuing
a hare, and the little animal was already much
exhausted by the long run it had had. When
it perceived no means of escape in the plains
spreading for on every side, and was several
times just on the point of being captured, it tried
to delay the threatened death by frequent doub-
lings. Now the blessed man pitied the danger
of the creature with pious feelings, and com-
manded the dogs to give up following it, and to
permit it to get safe away. Instantly, at the
first command they heard, they stood quite
still : one might have thought them bound, or
rather arrested, so as to stand immovable in
their own footprints. In this way, through her
pursuers being stopped as if tied together, the
hare got safe away.

CHAPTER X.

" Moreover, it will be worth while to relate
also some of his familiar sayings, since they
were all salted with spiritual instruction. He
happened to see a sheep ^ that had recently
been sheared ; and, ' See,' says he, ' she has
fulfilled the precept of the Gospel : she had two
coats, and one of them she has given to him
who had none : thus, therefore, ye ought also to
do.' Also, when he perceived a swineherd in
a garment of skin, cold and, in flict, all but
naked, he exclaimed : ' Look at Adam, cast out
of Paradise, how he feeds his swine in a gar-
ment of skin ; but let us, laying aside that old
Adam, who still remains in that man, rather put

' Halm has here an unintelligible repding, probably a misprint
— " quem recens tonsara forte conspexerat."

on the new Adam.' Oxen had, in one part,
eaten up the grass of the meadows ; \ngs also
had dug up some portions of them with their
snouts ; while the remaining portion, which
continued uninjured, flourished, as if painted
with variously tinted flowers. ' That part,' said
he, ' which has been eaten down by cattle, al-
though it has not altogether lost the beauty of
grass, yet retains no grandeur of flowers, con-
veys to us a representation of marriage ; that
part, again, which the pigs, unclean animals, had
dug up, presents a loathsome picture of fornica-
tion ; while the remaining portion, which had
sustained no injury, sets forth the glory of vir-
ginity ; — it flourishes with abundance of grass ;
the fruits of the field abound in it ; and, decked
with flowers to the very extreme of beauty, it
shines as if adorned with glittering gems.
Blessed is such beauty and worthy of God ; for
nothing is to be compared with virginity. Thus,
then, those who set marriage side by side with
fornication grievously err ; and those who think
that marriage is to be placed on an equal foot-
ing with virginity are utterly wretched and
foolish. But this distinction must be maintained
by wise people, that marriage belongs to those
things which may be excused, while virginity
points to glory, and fornication must incur pun-
ishment unless its guilt is purged away through
atonement.'

CHAPTER XL

" A CERTAIN soldier had renounced the mili-
tary ^ life in the Church, having professed him-
self a monk, and had erected a cell for himself
at a distance in the desert, as if with the pur-
pose of leading the life of an eremite. But
in course of time the crafty adversary harassed
his unspiritual- nature with various thoughts, to
the effect that, changing his mind, he should
express a desire that his wife, whom ^Martin had
ordered to have a place in the nunnery ^ of the
young women, should rather dwell along with
him. The courageous eremite, therefore, visits
Martin, and makes known to him what he had
in his mind. But Martin denied very strongly
that a woman could, in inconsistent fashion, be
joined again to a man who was now a monk,
and not a husband. At last, when the soldier
was insisting on the point in question ; asserting
that no evil would follow from carrying out his
purpose ; that he simply desired to possess the
solace of his wife's company ; and that there
was no fear of his again returning to his own

1 "cingulum": lit. a girdle, or sword-belt., and then put for
military service.

2 " brutum pectus": the words seem to refer to the man as
»//v;^tKb?, in opposition to Tri'eujaaTt/cb?.

2 " monasterio."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

pursuits ; adding that he was a soldier of Christ,
and that she also had taken the oath of alle-
giance in the same service; and that the bishop
therefore should allow to serve as soldiers to-
gether people who were saints, and who, in vir-
tue of their faith, totally ignored the question of
sex, — then Martin (I am going to repeat his
Very words to you) exclaimed : ' Tell me if you
have ever been in war, and if you have ever
stood in the line of battle?' In answer he
said, ' Frequently ; I have often stood in line of
battle, and been present in war.' On this
Martin replies : ' Well, then, tell me, did you
ever in a line which was prepared with arms
for battle, or, having already advanced near,
was fighting against a hostile army with drawn
sword — did you ever see any woman standing
there, or fighting ? ' Then at length the soldier
became confused and blushed, while he gave
thanks that he had not been permitted to fol-
low his own evil counsel, and at the same time
had not been put right by the use of any harsh
language, but by a true and rational analogy,
connected with the person of a soldier. Mar-
tin, for his part, turning to us (for a great
crowd of brethren had surrounded him), said :
' Let not a woman enter the camp of men, but
let the line of soldiers remain separate, and let
the females, dwelling in their own tent, be re-
mote from that of men. For this renders an
army ridiculous, if a female crowd is mixed with
the regiments of men. Let the soldier occupy
the line, let the soldier fight in the plain, but
let the woman keep herself within the protection
of the walls. She, too, certainly has her own
glory, if, when her husband is absent, she main-
tains her chastity ; and the first excellence, as
well as completed victory of that, is, that she
should not be seen.'

CHAPTER XIL

" I RELIEVE, my dear Sulpitius, that you re-
member with what emphasis he extolled to us
(when you too were present) that virgin who
had so completely withdrawn herself from the
eyes of all men, that she did not admit to her
presence Martin himself, when he wished to visit
her in the discharge of duty. For when he was
passing by the little property, within which for
several years she had chastely confined herself,
having heard of her faith and excellence, he
turned out of his way that, as a bishop, he might
honor, with pious respect, a girl of such eminent
merit. We who journeyed with him thought
that that virgin would rejoice, inasmuch as she
was to obtain such a testimony to her virtue,
while a priest of so great reputation, departing
from his usual rigor of conduct, paid her a visit.

But she did not relax those bonds of a most
severe method of life, which she had imposed
upon herself, even by allowing herself to see
Martin. And thus the blessed man, having
received, through another woman, her praise-
worthy apology, joyfully departed from the
doors of her who had not permitted herself to
be seen or saluted. O glorious virgin, who did
not allow herself to be looked upon even by
Martin ! O blessed Martin, who did not regard
that repulse as being any insult to himself, but,
extolling with exultant heart her excellence,
rejoiced in an example only too rare in that
locality ! Well, when approaching night had
compelled us to stay at no great distance from
her humble dwelling, that same virgin sent a
present to the blessed man ; and Martin did
what he had never done before (for he accepted
a present or gift from nobody), he refused none
of those things which the estimable virgin had
sent him, declaring that her blessing was by no
means to be rejected by a priest, since she was
indeed to be placed before many priests. Let,
I beg; virgins listen to that example, so that they
shall, if they desire to close their doors to the
wicked, even shut them against the good ; and
that the ill-disposed may have no free access to
them, they shall not fear even to exclude priests
from their society. Let the whole world listen
attentively to this : a virgin did not permit her-
self to be looked upon by Martin. And it was
no common ^ priest whom she repulsed, but the
girl refused to come under the eyes of a man
whom it was the salvation of onlookers to be-
hold. But what priest, besides Martin, would
not have regarded this as doing an injury to
him? What irritation and fury would he have
conceived in his mind against that virgin ? He
would have deemed her a heretic ; and would
have resolved that she should be laid under an
anathema. And how surely would such a man
have preferred to that blessed soul those virgins
who are always throwing themselves in the way
of the priest, who get up sumptuous entertain-
ments, and who recline at table with the rest !
But whither is my speech carrying me ? That
somewhat too free manner of speaking must be
checked, lest perchance it may give offense to
some ; for words of reproach will not profit the
unfiiithfiil, while the example quoted will be
enough for the foithful. At the same time, I
wish so to extol the virtue of this virgin, as
nevertheless to think that no deduction is to be
made from the excellence of those others, who
often came from remote regions for the purpose
of seeing Martin, since indeed, with the same
object in view, even angels ofttimes visited the
blessed man.

1 " qucmcumque," in the sense of qualetncumgiie, which is, in
fact, found in some of the MSS.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER XIII.

" But in what I am now about to narrate, I
possess you, Sulpitius " (here he looked at me)
" as a fellow-witness. One clay, I and Sulpitius
there were watching before Martin's door, and
had already sat in silence for several hours. We
did so with deep reverence and awe, as if we
were carrying out a watch prescribed to us
before the tent of an angel ; while, all the time,
the door of his cell being closed, he did not
know that we w^ere there. Meanwhile, we heard
the sound of people conversing, and by and by
we were filled witli a kind of awe and amaze-
ment, for we could not help perceiving that
something divine was going on. After nearly
two hours, Martin comes out to us ; and then
our friend Sulpitius (for no one w-as accustomed
to speak to him more familiarly) began to en-
treat him to make known to us, piously enquiring
on the subject, what meant that sort of Divine
awe which we confessed we had both felt, and
with whom he had been conversing in his cell.
We added that, as we stood before the door, we
had undoubtedly heard a feeble sound of people
talking, but had scarcely understood it. Then
he after a long delay (but there was really noth-
ing which Sulpitius could not extort from him
even against his will : I am about to relate things
somewhat difficult of belief, but, as Christ is my
witness, I lie not, unless any one is so impious
as to think that Martin himself lied) said : * I
will tell yoii, but I beg you will not speak of it to
any one else. Agnes, Thecla, and Mary were
there with me.' He proceeded to describe to
us the face and general aspect of each. And
he acknowledged that, not merely on that day,
but frequently, he received visits from them.
Nor did he deny that Peter also and Paul, the
Apostles, were pretty frequently seen by him.
Moreover, he was in the habit of rebuking the
demons by their special names, according as they
severally came to him. Pie found Mercury a
cause of special annoyance, while he said that
Jupiter was stupid and doltish. I am aware
that these things seemed incredible even to
many who dwelt in the same monastery ; and
far less can I expect that all who simply hear of
them will believe them. For unless Martin had
lived such an inestimable life, and displayed
such excellence, he would by no means be re-
garded among us as having been endowed with so
great glory. And yet it is not at all wonderful
that human infirmity doubted concerning the
works of Martin, when we see that many at the
present day do not even believe the Gospels.
But w^e have ourselves had personal knowledge
and experience, that angels often appeared and
spoke familiarly with Martin. As bearing upon

this, I am to narrate a matter, of small impor-
tance indeed, but still I will state it. A synod,
composed of bishops, was held at Nemausus,
and while he had refused to attend it, he waif
nevertheless desirous of knowing what was done
at it. It so happenetl that our friend Sulpitiuj.:
was then on board ship with him, but, as was
his custom, he kept his place at a distance from
the rest, in a retired part of the vessel. There
an angel announced to him what had taken
place in the synod. And when, afterwards, we
carefully enquired into the time at which the
council was held, we found, beyond all doubt,
that that was the very day of the council, and
that those things were there decreed by the
bishops which the angel had announced to
Martin.

CHAPTER XIV.

"But when we questioned him concerning the
end of the world, he said to us that Nero and
Antichrist have first to come ; that Nero will
rule in the Western portion of the world, after
having subdued ten kings ; and that a persecu-
tion will be carried on by him, with the view of
compelling men to worship the idols of the
Gentiles. He also said that Antichrist, on the
other hand, would first seize upon the empire of
the East, having his seat and the capital of his
kingdom at Jerusalem ; while both the city and
the temple would be restored by him. He
added that his persecution would have for its
object to compel men to deny Christ as God,
while he maintained rather that he himself was
Christ, and ordered all men to be circumcised,
according to the law. He further said that
Nero was to be destroyed by Antichrist, and
that the whole world, and all nations, were to
be reduced under the power of Antichrist, until
that impious one should be overthrown by the
coming of Christ. He told us, too, that there
was no doubt but that Antichrist, having been
conceived by an evil spirit, was already born,
and had, by this time, reached the years of boy-
hood, while he would assume power as soon as
he reached the proper age. Now, this is the
eighth year since we heard these words from his
lips : you may conjecture, then, how nearly
about to happen are those things which are
feared in the future."

As our friend the Gaul was emphatically
speaking thus, and had not yet finished what he
intended to relate, a boy of the fiimily entered
with the announcement that the presbyter Re-
frigerius was standing at the 'door. We began
to doubt whether it would be better to hear the
Gaul further, or to go and welcome that man
whom we so greatly loved, and who had come

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

to pay his respects to us, when our friend the
Gaul remarked : " Even aUhough this most holy
priest had not arrived, this talk of ours would
have had to be cut short, for the approach of
night was itself urging us to finish the discourse
which has been so far continued. But inas-
much as all things bearing upon the excellences
of Martin have by no means yet been men-
tioned, let what you have heard suffice for
to-day : to-morrow we shall proceed to what re-
mains." This promise of our GalHc friend
being equally acceptable to us all, we rose up.

DIALOGUE III.

THE VIRTUES OF MARTIN CONTINUED.

CHAPTER L

" It is daylight, our Gallic friend, and you
must get up. For, as you see, both Postumi-
anus is urgent, and this presbyter, who was yes-
terday admitted to hear what was going on, ex-
pects that what you put off narrating with regard
to our beloved Martin till to-day, you should
now, in fulfillment of your promise, proceed to
tell. He is not, indeed, ignorant of all the
things which are to be related, but knowledge is
sweet and pleasant even to one who goes over
again things already known to ^lim ; since, in-
deed, it has been so arranged by nature that
one rejoices with a better conscience in his
knowledge of things which he is sure, through
the testimony borne to them by many, are not
in any degree uncertain. For this man, too,
having been a follower of Martin from his early
youth, has indeed been acquainted with all his
doings ; but he gladly hears over again things
already known. And I will confess to thee, O
Gaul, that the virtues of Martin have often been
heard of by me, since, in fact, I have committed
to writing many things regarding him ; but
through the admiration I feel for his deeds,
those things are always new to me which, al-
though I have already heard them, are, over and
over again, repeated concerning him. Where-
fore, we congratulate you that Refrigerius has
been added to us as a hearer, all the ' more
earnestly that Postumianus is manifesting such
eagerness, because he hastens, as it were, to con-
vey a knowledge of these things to the East,
and is now to hear the trntli from you confirmed,
so to speak, by witnesses."

As I was saying these words, and as the Gaul
was now ready to resume his narrative, there
rushes in upon us a crowd of monks, Evagrius
the presbyter, Aper, Sabbatius, Agricola ; and, a

' The original is here very obscure.

little after, there enters the presbyter yEtherius,
with Calupio the deacon, and Amator the sub-
deacon ; lastly, Aurelius the presbyter, a very
dear friend of mine, who came from a longer
distance, rushes up out of "breath. " Why," I
enquire, " do you so suddenly and unexpectedly
run together to us from so many different quar-
ters, and at so early an hour in the morning? "
" We," they reply, " heard yesterday that your
friend the Gaul spent the whole day in narrating
the virtues of Martin, and, as night overtook
him, put off the rest until to-day : wherefore, we
have made haste to furnish him with a Crowded
audience, as he speaks about such interesting
matters." In the meantime, we are informed
that a multitude of lay people are standing at
the door, not venturing to enter, but begging,
nevertheless, that they might be admitted.
Then Aper declares, " It is by no means proper
that these people should be mixed up with us,
for they have come to hear, rather from curi-
osity than piety." I was grieved for the sake
of those who ought not, as he thought, to be
admitted, but all that I could obtain, and with
difficulty, was that they should admit Eucher-
ius from among the lieutenants," and Celsus, a
man of consular rank, while the rest were kept
back. We then place the Gaul in the middle
seat ; and he, after long keeping silence, in har-
mony with his well-known modesty, at length
began as follows.

CHAPTER II.

" You have assembled, my pious and eloquent
friends, to hear me ; but, as I presume, you
have brought to the task religious rather than
learned ears ; for you are to listen to me simply
as a witness to the faith, and not as speaking
with the fluency of an orator. Now, I shall not
repeat the things which were spoken yesterday :
those who did not hear them can become ac-
quainted with them by means of the written
records. Postumianus expects something new,
intending to make known what he hears to the
East, that it may not, when Martin is brought
into comparison, esteem itself above the West.
And first, my mind inclines to set forth an inci-
dent respecting which Refrigerius has just whis-
pered in my ear : the affair took place in the
city of Carnutes. A certain fother of a fomily
ventured to bring to INIartin his daughter of
twelve years old, who had been dumb from her
birth, begging that the blessed man would loose,
by his pious merits, her tongue, which was thus
tied. He, giving way to the bishops Valentinus
and Victricius, who then happened to be by his

- " ex vicariis."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

side, declared that he was unequal to so great
an undertaking, but that nothing was impossible
to them, as if holier than himself. But they,
adding their pious entreaties, with suppliant
voices, to those of the father, begged Martin to
accomplish what was hoped for. He made no
further delay, — being admirable in both re-
spects, in the display, first of all, of humihty,
and then in not putting off a pious duty, — but
orders the crowd of people standing round to
be removed ; and while the bishops only, and
the father of the girl, were present, he pros-
trates himself in prayer, after his usual fashion.
He then blesses a little oil, while he utters the
formula of exorcism ; and holding the tongue
of the girl with his fingers, he thus pours the
consecrated liquid into her mouth. Nor did
the result of the power thus exerted disappoint
the holy man. He asks her the name of her
father, and she instantly replied. The father
cries out, embracing the knees of Martin, with
a mixture of joy and tears ; and while all
around are amazed, he confesses that then for
the first time he listened to the voice of his
daughter. And that this may not appear in-
credible to any one, let Evagrius, who is here,
furnish you with a testimony of its truth ; for
the thing took place in his very presence.

CHAPTER III.

" The following is a small matter which I
learned lately from the narration of Arpa^ius
the presbyter, but I do not think it ought to be
passed over. The wife of the courtier Avitianus
had sent some oil to Martin, that he might bless
it (such is the custom) so as to be ready when
needful to meet different causes of disease. It
was contained in a glass jar of a shape which,
round throughout, gradually bulges ^ out towards
the middle, with a long neck ; but the hol-
low of the extended neck was not filled, be-
cause it is the custom to fill vessels of the kind
in such a way that the top may be left free
for the knobs which stop up the jar. The pres-
byter testified that he saw the oil increase under
the blessing of Martin, so much that, the abun-
dance of it overflowing the jar, it ran down from
the top in every direction. He added that it
bubbled up with the same- effect, while the vessel
was being carried back to the mistress of the
household ; for the oil so steadily flowed over in
the hands of the boy carrying it, that the abun-
dance of the liquid, thus pouring down, covered
all his garment. He said, moreover, that the
lady received the vessel so full even to the brim,

' The text of this sentence is very uncertain, and the meaning
somewhat obscure.

^ Here, again, the text is in confusion.

that (as the same presbyter tells ^ us at the pres-
ent day) there was no room in that jar for insert-
ing the stopper by which people are accustomed
to close those vessels, the contents of which are
to be preserved with special car'e. That, too,
was a remarkable thing that happened to this
man." Here he looked at me. " He had set down
a glass vessel containing oil blessed by Martin in
a pretty high window ; and a boy of the family,
not knowing that a jar was there, drew towards
him the cloth covering it, with rather much vio-
lence. The vessel, in consequence, fell down
on the marble pavement. Upon this, all were
filled with dread lest the blessing of God, be-
stowed on the vessel by Martin, had been lost ;
but the jar was found as safe as ever, just as if
it had follen on the softest feathers. Now, this
result should be ascribed, not so much to chance,
as to the power of Martin, whose blessing could
not possibly perish.

" There is this, too, which was effected by a
certain person, whose name, because he is pres-
ent, and has forbidden it to be mentioned, shall
be suppressed : Saturninus too, who is now with
us, was present on the occasion referred to. A
dog was barking at us in a somewhat disagree-
able manner. ' I command thee,' said the per-
son in question, ' in the name of Martin, to be
quiet.' The dog — his barking seemed to stick
in his throat, and one might have thought that
his tongue had been cut out — was silent.
Thus it is really a small matter that Martin him-
self performed miracles : believe me that other
people also have accomplished many things in
his name.

CHAPTER IV.

" You knew the too barbarous and, beyond
measure, bloody ferocity of Avitianus, a former
courtier. He enters the city of the Turones
with a furious spirit, while rows of people, laden
with chains, followed him with melancholy looks,
orders various kinds of punishments to be got
ready for slaying them ; and to the grave amaze-
ment of the city, he arranges them for the sad
work on the following day. When this became
known to Martin, he set out all alone, a little
before midnight, for the palace of that beast.
But when, in the silence of the depths of the
night, and as all were at rest, no entrance was
possible through the bolted doors, he lays him-
self down before that cruel threshold. In the
meantime, Avitianus, buried in deep sleep, is
smitten by an assailing angel, who says to him,
' Does the servant of God lie at your threshold,
and do you continue sleeping?' He, on listen-
ing to these words, rises, in much disturbance,
from his bed ; and calling his servants, he ex-

2 Text and meaning both very obscure.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

claims in terror, ' Martin is at the door : go
immediately, and undo the bolts, that the ser-
vant of God may suffer no harm.' But they, in
accordance with the tendency of all servants,
having scarcely stepped beyond the first thresh-
old, and laughing at their master as having
been mocked by a dream, affirm that there was
no one at the door. This they did as simply
inferring from their own disposition, that no one
could be keeping watch through the night, while
far less did they believe that a priest was lying
at the threshold of another man during the
horror of that night. Well, they easily per-
suaded Avitianus of the truth of their story.
He again sinks into sleep ; but, being ere long
struck with greater violence than before, he ex-
claimed that Martin 7(jas standing at the door,
and that, therefore, no rest either of mind or
body was allowed him. As the servants delayed,
he himself went forward to the outer threshold ;
and there he found Martin, as he had thought
he would. The wretched man, struck by the
display of so great excellence, exclaimed, ' Why,
sir, have you done this to me ? There is no
need for you to speak : I know what you wish :
I see what you require : depart as quickly as
possible, lest the anger of heaven consume me
on account of the injury done you : I have
already suffered sufficient punishment. Believe
me, that I have firmly determined in my own
mind how I should now proceed.' So then,
after the departure of the holy man, he calls for
his officials and orders all the prisoners to be
set free, while presently he himself went his way.
Thus Avitianus being put to flight, the city
rejoiced, and felt at liberty.

CHAPTER V.

"While these are certain facts, since Avitianus
related them to many persons, they are further
confirmed on this ground that Refrigerius the
presbyter, whom you see here present, lately had
them narrated to him, under an appeal to the
Divine majesty, by Dagridus, a faithful man
among the tribunes, who swore that the account
was given him by Avitianus himself. But I do
not wish you to wonder that I do to-day what
I did not do yesterday ; viz. that I subjoin to the
mention of every individual wonder the names
of witnesses, and mention persons to whom, if
any one is inclined to disbelieve, he may have
recourse, because they are still in the body.
The unbelief of very many has compelled that ;
for they are said to hesitate about some things
which were related yesterday. Let these people,
then, accept as witnesses persons who are still
alive and well, and let them give more credit to
such, inasmuch as they doubt our good faith.

But really, if they are so unbelieving, I give it
as my oi^inion that they will not believe even
the witnesses named. And yet I am surprised
that any one, who has even the least sense of
religion, can venture on such wickedness as to
think that any one could tell lies concerning
Martin. Be that far from every one who lives
in obedience to God ; for, indeed, Martin does
not require to be defended by falsehoods. But,
O Christ, we lay the truth of our whole discourse
before thee, to the effect that we neither have
said, nor will say, anything else than what either
we ourselves have witnessed, or have learned
from undoubted authorities, and, indeed, very
frequently from Martin himself. But although
we have adopted the form of a dialogue, in
order that the style might be varied to prevent
weariness, still we affirm that we are really set-
ting forth ' a true history in a dutiful spirit. The
unbelief of some has compelled me, to my great
regret, to insert in my narrative these remarks
which are apart from the subject in hand. But
let the discourse now return to our assembly ;
in which since I saw that I was listened to so
eagerly, I found it necessary to acknowledge that
Aper acted properly in keeping back the un-
believing, under the Conviction he had that those
only ought to be allowed to hear who were of a
believing spirit.

CHAPTER VI.

" I AM enraged in heart, believe me, and,
through vexation, I seem to lose my senses : do
Christian men not believe in the miraculous
powers of Martin, which the demons acknowl-
edged ?

" The monastery of the blessed man was at
two miles' distance from the city ; but if, as
often as he was to come to the church, he only
had set his foot outside the threshold of his
cell, one could perceive the possessed roaring
through the whole church, and the bands of
guilty ^ ones trembling as if their judge were
coming, so that the groanings of the demons
announced the approach of the bishop to the
clerics, who were not previously aware that he
was coming. I saw a certain man snatched up
into the air on the approach of Martin, and
suspended there with his hands stretched up-
wards, so tliat he could in no way touch the
ground with his feet. But if at any time Mar-
tin undertook the duty of exorcising the de-
mons, he touched no one with his hands, and
reproached no one in words, as a multitude of
expressions is generally rolled forth by the
clerics ; but the possessed, being brought up to

' " nos pie praestruere profitemur historiae veritatem."
• " agmina damnanda."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

him, he ordered all others to depart, and the
doors being bolted, clothed in sackcloth and
sprinkled with ashes, he stretched himself on the
ground in the midst of the church, and turned
to prayer. Then truly might one behold the
wretched beings tortured with various results —
some hanging, as it were, from a cloud, with
their feet turned upwards, and yet their gar-
ment? did not fall down over their faces, lest
the part of their body which was exposed
should give rise to shame ; while in another part
of the church one could see them tortured with-
out any question being addressed to them, and
confessing their crimes. They revealed their
names, too, of their own accord ; one acknowl-
edged that he was Jupiter, and another that he
was Mercury. Finally, one could see all the
ser\'ants of the devil suffering agony, along with
their master, so that we could not help acknowl-
edains that in Martin there was fulfilled that
which is written that * the saints shall judge
angels.'

CHAPTER VII.

" There was a certain village in the country
of the Senones which was every year annoyed
with hail. The inhabitants, constrained by an
extreme of suffering, sought help from Martin.
A highly respectable embassy was sent to him
by Auspicius, a man of the rank of prefect,
whose fields the storm had been wont to smite
more severely than it did those of others. But
Martin, having there offered up prayer, so com-
pletely freed the whole district from the pre-
vaiUng plague, that for twenty years, in which
he afterwards remained in the body, no one in
those places suffered from hail. And that this
may not be thought to be accidental, but rather
effected by Martin, the tempest, returning afresh,
once more fell upon the district in the year in
which he died. The world thus felt the de-
parture of a believing man to such a degree,
that, as it justly rejoiced in his life, so it also
bewailed his death. But if any hearer, weak in
faith, demands also witnesses to prove those
things which we have said, I will bring forward,
not one man, but many thousands, and will even
summon the whole region of the Senones to
bear witness to the power which was experi-
enced. But not to speak of this, you, presby-
ter Refrigerius, remember, I believe, that we
lately had a conversation, concerning the matter
referred to, with Romulus, the son of that
Auspicius I mentioned, an honored and religious
man. He related the points in question to us,
as if they had not been previously known ; and
as he was afraid of constant losses in future har-
vests, he did, as you yourself beheld, regret,

with much lamentation, that Martin was not
preserved up to this time.

CHAPTER VHI.

" But to return to Avitianus : while at every
other place, and in all other cities, he displayed
marks of horrible cruelty, at Tours alone he did
no harm. Yes, that beast, which was nourished
by human blood, and by the slaughter of un-
fortunate creatures, showed himself meek and
peaceable in the presence of the blessed man.
I remember that Martin one day came to him,
and having entered his private apartment, he
saw a demon of marvelous size sitting behind
his back. Blowing upon him from a distance
(if I may, as a matter of necessity, make use
of a word which is hardly Latin'), Avitianus
thought that he was blowing at him, and ex-
claimed, ' Why, thou holy man, dost thou
treat me thus ? ' But then Martin said, ' It is
not at you, but at him who, in all his terrible-
ness, leans over your neck.' The devil gave
way, and left his familiar seat ; and it is well
known that, ever after that day, Avitianus was
milder, whether because he now understood that
he had always been doing the will of the devil
sitting by him, or because the unclean spirit,
driven from his seat by Martin, was deprived of
the power of attacking him ; while the servant
was ashamed of his master, and the master did
not force on his servant.

" In a village of the Ambatienses, that is in
an old stronghold, which is now largely inhabited
by brethren, you know there is a great idol-
temple built up with labor. The building had
been constructed of the most pohshed stones
and furnished with turrets ; and, rising on high
in the form of a cone, it preserved the super-
stition of the place by the majesty of the work.
The blessed man had often enjoined its de-
struction on Marcellus, who was there settled as
presbyter. Returning after the lapse of some
time, he reproved the presbyter, because the
edifice of the idol-temple was still standing.
He pleaded in excuse that such an immense
structure could with difficulty be thrown down
by a band of soldiers, or by the strength of a
large body of the public, and far less should Mar-
tin think it easy for that to be effected by means
of weak clerics or helpless monks. Then Martin,
having recourse to his well-known auxiliaries,
spent the whole night in watching and prayer —
with the result that, in the morning, a storm
arose, and cast down even to its foundations the
idol-temple. Now let this narrative rest on the
testimony of Marcellus.

1 " exsufflans."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER IX.

" I WILL make use of another not dissimilar
marvel in a like kind of work, having the con-
currence of Refrigerius in doing so. Martin
was prepared to throw down a pillar of immense
size, on the top of which an idol stood, but
there was no means by which effect could be
given to his design. Well, according to his
usual practice, he betakes himself to prayer. It
is undoubted that then a column, to a certain
degree like the other, rushed down from heaven,
and falling upon the idol, it crushed to powder
the whole of the seemingly indestructible mass :
this would have been a small matter, had he
only in an invisible way made use of the
powers of heaven, but these very powers were
beheld by human eyes serving Martin in a
visible manner.

" Again, the same Refrigerius is my witness
that a woman, suffering from an issue of blood,
when she had touched the garment of Martin,
after the example of the woman mentioned in
the Gospel, was cured in a moment of time.

"A serpent, cutting its way through a river,
was swimming towards the bank on which we
had taken our stand. ' In the name of the
Lord,* said Martin, ' I command thee to return.'
Instantly, at the word of the holy man, the
venomous beast turned round, and while we
looked on, swam across to the farther bank.
As we all perceived that this had not happened
without a miracle, he groaned deeply, and ex-
claimed, ' Serpents hear me, but men will not
hear.'

CHAPTER X.

" Being accustomed to eat fish at the time of
Easter, he enquired a little before the hour for
refreshment, whether it was in readiness. Then
Cato, the deacon, to whom the outward man-
agement of the monastery belonged, and who
was himself a skillful fisher, tells him that no
capture had fallen to his lot the whole day, and
that other fishers, who used to sell what they
caught, had also been able to do nothing.
' Go,' said he, ' let down your line, and a cap-
ture will follow.' As Sulpitius there has already
described, we had our dwelling close to the
river. AVe all went, then, as these were holidays,
to see our friend' fishing, with the hopes of all
on the stretch, that the efforts would not be in
vain by which, under the advice of Martin him-
self, it was sought to obtain fish for his use. At
the first throw the deacon drew out, in a very
small net, an enormous pike, and ran joyfully
back to the monastery, with the feeling un-

doubtedly to which some poet gave utterance
(for we use a learned verse, inasmuch as we are
conversing with learned people) —

' And brought his captive boar ^ to wondering Argos.'

" Truly that disciple of Christ, imitating the
miracles performed by the Saviour, and which
he, by way of example, set before the view of
his saints, showed Christ also working in- him,
who, glorifying his own holy follower everywhere,
conferred upon that one man the gifts of vari-
ous graces. Arborius, of the imperial body-
guard, testifies that he saw the hand of Martin
as he was offering sacrifice, clothed, as it seemed,
with the noblest gems, while it glittered with a
purple light ; and that, when his right hand was
moved, he heard the clash of the gems, as they
struck together.

CHAPTER XL

" I WILL now come to an event which he al-
ways concealed, owing to the character of the
times, but which he could not conceal from us.
In the matter referred to, there is this of a
miraculous nature, that an angel conversed, face
to face, with him. The Emperor Maximus,
while in other respects doubtless a good man,
was led astray by the advices of some priests
after Priscillian had been put to death. He,
therefore, protected by his royal power Ithacius
the bishop, who had been the accuser of Pris-
cillian, and others of his confederates, whom it
is not necessary to name. The emperor thus
prevented every one from bringing it as a charge
against Ithacius, that, by his instrumentality, a
man of any sort had been condemned to death.
Now Martin, constrained to go to the court by
many serious causes of people involved in suf-
fering, incurred the whole force of the storm
which was there raging. The bishops who had
assembled at Treves were retained in that city,
and daily communicating with Ithacius, they had
made common cause with him. When it was
announced to them expecting no such informa-
tion, that Martin was coming, completely losing
courage, they began to mutter and tremble
among themselves. And it so happened that
already, under their influence, the emperor had
determined to send some tribunes armed with
absolute power into the two Spains, to search
out heretics, and, when found, to deprive them
of their life or goods. Now there was no doubt
that that tempest would also make havoc of
multitudes of the real saints, little distinction
being made between the various classes of in-

• " captivum suem." Probably there is here an allusion to the
capture of the Erymanthian boar by Hercules, with a punning
reference to a secondary meaning o( sits as a kind of fish.

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

dividuals. For in such circumstances, a judg-
ment was formed simply by appearances, so that
one was deemed a heretic rather on his turning
pale from fear, or wearing a particular garment,
than by the fliith which he professed. And the
bishops were well aware that such proceedings
would by no means please Martin ; but, con-
scious of evil as they were, this was a subject
of deep anxiety to them, lest when he came, he
should keep from communion with them ; know-
ing well as they did, that others would not be
wanting who, with his example to guide them,
would follow the bold course adopted by so
great a man. They therefore form a plan with
the emperor, to this effect, that, officials of the
court being sent on to meet him, Martin should
be forbidden to come any nearer to that city,
unless he should declare that he would maintain
peace with the bishops who were living there.
But he skillfully frustrated their object, by declar-
ing that he would come among them with the
peace of Christ. And at last, having entered
during the night, he went to the church, simply
for the purpose of prayer. On the following
day he betakes himself to the palace. Besides
many other petitions which he had to present,
and which it would be tedious to describe, the
following were the principal : entreaties in be-
half of the courtier Narses, and the president
Leucadius, both of whom had belonged to the
party of Gratianus, and that, with more than
ordinary zeal, upon which this is not the time to
dilate, and who had thus incurred the anger of
the conqueror ; but his chief request was, that
tribunes, with the power of life and death,
should not be sent into the Spains. For Martin
felt a pious solicitude not only to save from
danger the true Christians in these regions, who
were to be persecuted in connection with that
expedition, but to protect even heretics them-
selves. But on the first and second day the
wily emperor kept the holy man in suspense,
whether that he might impress on him the
importance of the affair, or because, being ob-
noxious to the bishops, he could not be recon-
ciled to them, or because, as most people
thought at the time, the emperor opposed his
wishes from avarice, having cast a longing eye
on the property of the persons in question.
For we are told that he was really a man dis-
tinguished by many excellent actions, but that
he was not successful in contending against
avarice. This may, however, have been due to
the necessities of the empire at the time, for
the treasury of the state had been exhausted by
former rulers ; and he, being almost constantly
in the expectation of civil wars, or in a state of
preparation for them, may easily be excused for
having, by all sorts of expedients, sought re-
sources for the defense of the empire.

CHAPTER XII.

" In the meantime, those bishops with whom
Martin would not hold communion went in ter-
ror to the king, complaining that they had been
condemned beforehand ; that it was all over
with them as respected the status of every one
of them, if the authority of Martin was now to
uphold the pertinacity of Theognitus, who alone
had as yet condemned them by a sentence pub-
licly pronounced ; that the man ought not to
have been received wathin the walls ; that he
was now not. merely the defender of heretics,
but their vindicator ; and that nothing had
really been accomplished by the death of Pris-
cillian, if ISIartin were to act the part of his
avenger. Finally, prostrating themselves with
weeping and lamentation, they implored the
emperor ^ to put forth his power against this one
man. And the emperor was not far from being
compelled to assign to Martin, too, the doom
of heretics. But after all, although he was dis-
posed to look upon the bishops with too great
favor, he was not ignorant that Martin excelled
all other mortals in faith, sanctity, and excel-
lence : he therefore tries another way of get-
ting the better of the holy man. And first he
sends for him privately, and addresses him in
the kindest fashion, assuring him that the here-
tics were condemned in the regular course of
public trials, rather than by the persecutions of
the priests ; and that there was no reason why
he should think that communion with Ithacius
and the rest of that party was a thing to be
condemned. He added that Theognitus had
created disunion, rather by personal hatred, than
by the cause he supported ; and that, in fact, he
was the only person who, in the meantime, had
separated himself from communion : while no
innovation had been made by the rest. He
remarked fiirther that a synod, held a few days
previously, had decreed that Ithacius was not
chargeable with any fault. When Martin was
but little impressed by these statements, the
king then became inflamed with anger, and hur-
ried out of his presence ; while, without delay,
executioners are appointed for those in whose
behalf Martin had made supplication.

CHAPTER XIII.

"When this became known to Martin, he
rushed to the palace, though it was now night.
He pledges himself that, if these people were
spared, he would communicate ; only let the
tribunes, who had already been sent to the
Spains for the destruction of the churches,^ be

1 " potestatem regiam."

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

recalled. There is no delay : Maximus grants
all his requests. On the following day, the or-
dination of f'elix as bishop was being arranged,
a man undoubtedly of great sanctity, and truly
worthy of being made a priest in happier times.
Martin took part in the communion of that day,
judging it better to yield for the moment, than
to disregard the safety of those over whose
heads a sword was hanging. Nevertheless, al-
though the bishops strove to the uttermost to
get him to confirm the fact of his communi-
cating by signing his name, he could not be
induced to do so. On the following day, hur-
rying away from that jjlace, as he was on the
way returning, he was filled with mourning and
lamentation that he had even for an hour been
mixed up with the evil communion, and, not far
from a village named Andethanna, where remote
woods stretch ^ far and wide with profound soli-
tude, he sat down while his companions went
on a little before him. There he became in-
volved in deep thought, alternately accusing and
defending the cause of his grief and conduct.
Suddenly, an angel stood by him and said,
* Justly, O Martin, do you feel compunction, but
you could not otherwise get out of your diflfi-
culty. Renew your virtue, resume your courage,
lest you not only now expose your fame, but
your very salvation, to danger.' Therefore, from
that time forward, he carefully guarded against
being mixed up in communion with the party
of Ithacius. But when it happened that he
cured some of the possessed more slowly and
with less grace than usual, he at once confessed
to us with tears that he felt a diminution of his
power on account of the evil of that commun-
ion in which he had taken part for a moment,
through necessity, and not with a cordial spirit.
He lived sixteen years after this, but never again
did he attend a synod, and kept carefully aloof
from all assembUes of bishops.

CHAPTER XIV.

" But very clearly, as we experienced, he re-
paired, with manifold interest, his grace, which
had been diminished for a time. I saw after-
wards a possessed person brought to him at the
gate ^ of the monastery ; and that, before the
man touched the threshold, he was cured.

" I lately heard one testifying that, when he
was sailing on the Tuscan vSea, following that
course which leads to Rome, whirlwinds having
suddenly arisen, all on board were in extreme

' The text is here very corrupt: we have followed a conjecture
of Halm's.

' " Pseudothyrum ": Halm prefers the form " pseudoforum," but
the meaning is the same.

peril of their lives. In these circumstances, a
certain Egyptian merchant, who was not yet a
Christian, cried out, ' Save us, O God of Mar-
tin,' upon which the tempest was immediately
stilled, and they held their desired course,
while the pacified ocean continued in perfect
tranquillity.

" Lycontius, a believing man belonging to the
lieutenants, when a violent disease was afflicting
his family, and sick bodies were lying all through
his house in sad proof of unheard-of calamity,
implored the help of Martin by a letter. At
this time the blessed man declared that the
thing asked was difficult to be obtained, for he
knew in his spirit that that house was then being
scourged by Divine appointment. Yet he did
not give up an unbroken course of prayer and
fasting for seven whole days and as many nights,
so that he at last obtained that which he aimed
at in his supplications. Speedily, Lycontius,
having experienced the Divine kindness, flew
to him, at once reporting the fact and giving
thanks, that his house had been delivered from
all danger. He also offered a hundred pounds
of silver, which the blessed man neither rejected
nor accepted ; but before the amount of money
touched the threshold of the monastery, he had,
without hesitation, destined it for the redemp-
tion of captives. And when it was suggested to
him by the brethren, that some portion of it
should be reserved for the expenses of the
monasterv, since it was difficult for all of them
to obtain necessary food, while many of them
were sorely in need of clothing, he replied, ' Let
the church both feed and clothe us, as long as
we do not appear to have provided, in any way,
for our own wants.'

" There occur to my mind at this point many
miracles of that illustrious man, which it is more
easy for us to admire than to narrate. You all
doubtless recognize the truth of what I say :
there are many doings of his which cannot be
set forth in words. For instance, there is the
following, which I rather think cannot be re-
lated by us just as it took place. A certain one
of the brethren (you are not ignorant of his
name, but his person must be concealed, lest
we should cause shame to a godly man), — a
certain one, I say, having found abundance of
coals for his stove, drew a stool to himself, and
was sitting, with outspread legs and exposed
person, beside that fire, when Martin at once
perceived that an improper thing was done
under the sacred roof, and cried out with a loud
voice, ' Who, by exposing his person, is dis-
honoring our habitation?' When our brother
heard this, and felt from his own conscience,
that it was he who was rebuked, he immediately
ran to us almost in a fainting condition, and
acknowledged his shame ; which was done, how-

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

ever, only through the forth-putting of the power
of Martin.

CHAPTER XV.

" Again, on a certain day, after he had sat
down on that wooden seat of his (which you
all know), placed in the small open court
which surrounded his abode, he perceived two
demons sitting on the lofty rock which over-
hangs the monastery. He then heard them, in
eager and gladsome tones, utter the following
invitation, ' Come hither, Brictio, come hither,
Brictio.' I believe they perceived the miser-
able man approaching from a distance, being
conscious how great frenzy of spirit they had
excited within him. Nor is there any delay :
Brictio rushes in in absolute fury ; and there,
full of madness, he vomits forth a thousand re-
proaches against Martin. For he had been
reproved by him on the previous day, because
he who had possessed nothing before he entered
the clerical office, having, in fact, been brought
up in the monastery by Martin himself, was now
keeping horses and purchasing slaves. For at
that time, he was accused by many of not only
having bought boys belonging to barbarous
nations, but girls also of a comely appearance.
The miserable man, moved with bitter rage on
account of these things, and, as I believe, chiefly
instigated by the impulse received from those
demons, made such an onset upon Martin as
scarcely to refrain from laying hands upon him.
The holy man, on his part, with a placid coun-
tenance and a tranquil mind, endeavored by
gentle words to restrain the madness of the un-
happy wretch. But the spirit of wickedness so
prevailed within him, that not even his own
mind, at best a very vain one, was under his
control. With trembling Ups, and a changing
countenance, pale with rage, he rolled forth the
words of sin, asserting that he was a holier man
than Martin who had brought him up, inasmuch
as from his earliest years he had grown up in
the monastery amid the sacred institutions of
the Church, while Martin had at first, as he could
not deny, been tarnished with the life of a sol-
dier, and had now entirely sunk into dotage by
means of his baseless superstitions, and ridiculous
fancies about visions. After he had uttered
many things like these, and others of a still more
bitter nature, which it is better not to mention,
going out, at length, when his rage was satisfied,
he seemed to feel as if he had completely vin-
dicated his conduct. But with rapid steps he
rushed back by the way he had gone out, the
demons having, I believe, been, in the mean-
time, driven from his heart by the prayers of
Martin, and he was now brought back to re-

pentance. Speedily, then, he returns, and throws
himself at the feet of Martin, begging for pardon
and confessing his error, while, at length restored
to a better mind, he acknowledges that he had
been under the influence of a demon. It was
no difficult business for Martin to forgive the
suppliant. And then the holy man explained
both to him and to us all, how he had seen him
driuen on by demons, and declared that he was
not moved by the reproaches which had been
heaped upon him ; for they had, in fact, rather
injured the man who uttered them. And sub-
sequently, when this same Brictio was often
accused before him of many and great crimes,
Martin could not be induced to remove him
from the presbyterate, lest he should be sus-
pected of revenging the injury done to himself,
while he often repeated this saying : ' If Christ
bore with Judas, why should not I bear with
Brictio?'"

CHAPTER XVI.

Upon this, Postumianus exclaims, " Let that
well-known man in our immediate neighborhood,
listen to that example, who, when he is wise,
takes no notice either of things present or future,
but if he has been offended, falls into utter fury,
having no control over himself. He then rages
against the clerics, and makes bitter attacks
upon the laity, while he stirs up the whole world
for his own revenge. He will continue in this
state of contention for three years without inter-
mission, and refuse to be mollified either by
time or reason. The condition of the man is to
be lamented and pitied, even if this were the
only incurable evil by which he is afflicted. But
you ought, my Gallic friend, to have frequently
recalled to his mind such examples of patience
and tranquillity, that he might know both how to
be angry and how to forgive. And if he hap-
pens to hear of this speech of mine which has
been briefly interpolated into our discourse, and
directed against himself, let him know that I
spoke, not more with the lips of an enemy than
the mind of a friend ; because I should wish, if
the thing were possible, that he should be spoken
of rather as being like the bishop Martin, than
the tyrant Phalaris. But let us pass away from
him, since the mention of him is far from pleas-
ant, and let us return, O Gaul, to our friend
Martin."

CHAPTER XVII.

Then said I, since I perceived by the setting
sun that evening was at hand : " The day is
gone, Postumianus ; we must rise up ; and at
the same time some refreshment is due to these

DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

so zealous listeners. And as to Martin, you
ought not to expect that there is any limit to
one talking about him : he extends too far to be
comprised fully in any conversation. In the
meantime, you will convey to the East the
things you have now heard about that famous
man ; and as you retrace your steps to your
former haunts, and pass along by various coasts,
places, harbors, islands, and seas, see that «you
spread among the peoples the name and glory of
Martin. Especially remember that you do not
omit Campania ; and although your route will
take you for off the beaten track, still any ex-
penditure from delay will not be to you of so
much importance as to keep you from visiting
in that quarter Paulinus, a man renowned and
praised throughout the whole world. I beg you
first to unroll to him the volume of discourse
which we either completed yesterday, or have
said to-day. You will relate all to him ; you
will repeat all to him ; that in due time, by
his means, Rome may learn the sacred merits
of this man, just as he spread that first little
book of ours not only through Italy, but even
through the whole of Illyria. He, not jealous
of the glories of Martin, and being a most pious
admirer of his saintly excellences in Christ, will
not refuse to compare our leading man with his
own friend Felix. Next, if you happen to cross
over to Africa, you will relate what you have
heard to Carthage ; and, although, as you
yourself have said, it already knows the man,
yet now pre-eminently it will learn more respect-
ing him, that it may not admire its own martyr
Cyprian alone, although consecrated by his sa-
cred blood. And then, if carried down a little
to the left, you enter the gulf of Achaia, let
Corinth know, and let Athens know, that Plato
in the academy was not wiser, and that Socrates
in the prison was not braver, than Martin. You
will say to them that Greece was indeed happy
which was thought worthy to listen to an apostle
pleading, but that Christ has by no means for-
saken Gaul, since he has granted it to possess

such a man as Martin. But when you have
come as far as Egypt, although it is justly proud
of the numbers and virtues of its own saints,
yet let it not disdain to hear how Europe will
not yield to it, or to all Asia, in having only
Martin.

CHAPTER XVIII.

" But when you have again set sail from that
place with the view of making for Jerusalem, I
enjoin upon you a duty connected with our
grief, that, if you ever come to the shore of re-
nowned Ptolemais, you enquire most carefully
where Pomponius, that friend of ours, is buried,
and that you do not refuse to visit his remains
on that foreign soil. There shed many tears, as
much from the working of your own feelings, as
from our tender affection ; and although it is
but a worthless gift, scatter the ground there
with purple flowers and sweet-smelling grass.
And you will say to him, but not roughly, and
not harshly, — with the address of one who sym-
pathizes, and not with the tone of one who re-
proaches, — that if he had only been willing to
listen to you at one time, or to me constantly,
and if he had invited Martin rather than that
man whom I am unwilling to name, he would
never have been so cruelly separated from me,
or covered by a heap of unknown dust, having
suffered death in the midst of the sea with the
lot of a ship-wrecked pirate, and with difficulty
securing burial on a far-distant shore. Let those
behold this as their own work, who, in seeking
to revenge him, have wished to injure me, let
them behold their own glory, and being avenged,
let them henceforth cease to make any attacks
upon me."

Having uttered these sad words in a very
mournful voice, and while the tears of all the
others were drawn forth by our laments, we at
length departed, certainly with a profound ad-
miration for Martin, but with no less sorrow from
our own lamentations.

THE DOUBTFUL LETTERS OF SULPITIUS

SEVERUS.

-00)^00-

LETTER I.

A LETTER OF THE HOLY PRESBYTER SEVERUS TO
HIS SISTER CLAUDIA CONCERNING THE LAST
JUDGMENT.

CHAPTER I.

On reading your letters, my feelings were,
in many ways, deeply moved, and I could not
refrain from tears. For I both wept for joy
because I could perceive from the very language
of your letters, that you were living according
to the precepts of the Lord God, and out of
my exceeding desire after you, I could not help
lamenting that, without any fault on my part, I
was parted from you ; and I would have felt
this still more strongly had you not sent me a
letter. Should I not, then, enjoy the company
of such a sister? But I call your salvation to
witness, that I have very often wished to come
to you, but have up till now been prevented,
through the opposition of him ^ who is accus-
tomed to hinder us. For, in my eager desire,
I was both urgent to satisfy my wishes by seeing
you ; and we seemed, if we should meet, likely
to accomplish more effectually the work of the
Lord, since by comforting one another we should
live with the heavy load of this world trodden
under our feet. But I do not now fix the day
or time of visiting you, because, as often as I
have done so, I have not been able to fulfil my
purpose. I shall wait on the will of the Lord,
and hope that, by my supplications and your
prayers, he may bring it about that we reap
some advantage from our perseverance."

CHAPTER IL

But because you have desired from me in all
my letters which I had sent to you precepts to
nourish your life and faith, it has come to pass

■ It is obvious that, in this whole passage, Sulpitius has in his
mind the language of St. Paul, Rom. i. 9-12.

^ Halm reads prceseiitia, instead of the old reading perseve-
raniia, but apparently without good grounds.

that, through the frequency of my writings to
you, I have now exhausted language of that
kind ; and I can really write nothing new to you,
so as to avoid what I have written before. And
in truth, through the goodness of God, you do
not now need to be exhorted, inasmuch as, per-
fecting your faith at the very beginning of your
saintly life, you display a devoted love in Christ.
One thing, however, I do press upon you, that
you do not go back on things you have already
passed away from, that you do not long again
for things you have already scorned, and that,
having put your hand to the plow, you do not
look back' again, retracing your steps; for, un-
doubtedly, by falling into this fault, your furrow
will lose its straightness, and the cultivator will
not receive his own proper reward. Moreover,
he does not secure even a measure of the
reward, if he has, in a measure, failed. For, as
we must flee from sin to righteousness, so he
who has entered on the practice of righteousness
must beware lest he lay himself open to sin.
For it is written that " his righteousness shall
not profit the righteous on the day on which he
has gone astray." - For this, then, we must take
our stand, for this we must labor, that we, who
have escaped from sins, do not lose the pre-
pared rewards. For the enemy stands ready
against us, that he may at once strike the man
who has been stripped of the shield of faith.
Our shield, therefore, is not to be cast aside, lest
our side be exposed to attack ; and our sword
is not to be put away, lest the enemy then begin
to give up all fear : moreover, we know that if
he sees a man fully armed, he will retreat. Nor
are we ignorant that it is a hard and difficult
thing daily to fight against the flesh and the
world. But if you reflect upon eternity, and if
you consider the kingdom of heaven, which un-
doubtedly the Lord will condescend to bestow
upon us although we are sinners, what suffering,
I ask, is sufficiently great, by which we may
merit such things? And besides, our struggle
in this world is but for a short time ; for al-
though death do not speedily overtake us, old

' Luke ix. 62.
- Ezek. xviii. 24.

LETTERS OE SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).'

age will come. The years flow on, and time
glides by ; while, as I hope, the Lord Jesus will
speedily call us to himself, as being dear to his
heart.

CHAPTER III.

O HOW happy shall be that departure of ours,
when Christ shall receiv'e us into his own abode
after we have been purged ^ from the stains of
sin through the experience- of a better life!
INIartyrs and prophets will meet with us, apostles
will join themselves to us, angels will be glad,
archangels will rejoice, and Satan, being con-
quered, will look pale, though still retaining his
cruel countenance, inasmuch as he will lose all ^
advantage from our sins which he had secured
for himself in us. He will see glory granted us
through mercy, and merits honored by means of
glory. We shall triumph over our conquered
foe. Where shall now the wise men of the world
appear ? Where shall the covetous man, where
shall the adulterer, where shall the irreligious,
where shall the drunkard, where shall the evil-
speaker be recognized? What shall these
wretched beings say in their own defense? "We
did not know thee, Lord ; we did not see that
thou wast in the world : thou didst not send the
prophets : thou didst not give the law to the
world : we did not see. the patriarchs : we did
not read the lives of the saints. Thy Christ
never was upon the earth : Peter was silent :
Paul refused to preach : no Evangelist taught.
There were no martyrs whose example we should
follow : no one predicted thy future judgment :
no one commanded us to clothe the poor : no
one enjoined us to restrain lust : no one per-
suaded us to fight against covetousness : we fell
through ignorance, not knowing what we did."

CHAPTER IV.

Against these, from among the company of
the saints, righteous Noah shall first proclaim,
" I, Lord, predicted that a deluge was about to
come on account of the sins of men, and after
the deluge I set an example to the good in my
own person ; since I did not perish with the
wicked who perished, that they might know both
what was the salvation of the innocent, and what
the punishment of sinners." After him, faithfiil
Abraham will say in opposition to them, " I,

1 Clericus here remarks that " these words clearly teach us that
Severus knew of no other purgation than that by which we are
cleansed in this life from sin by a change of character, and which
change if we steadily maintain, then, when life is ended, we are
received into the abode of Christ, witliout any dread of the fire of
purgatory."

^ " conversatione."

' Having led us into sin that we might be condemned along with
himself. The meaning, however, is obscure.

Lord, about the mid-time^ of the age of the
world, laid the foundation of the faith by which
the human race should believe in thee ; I was
chosen as the father of the nations, that they
might follow my example ; I did not hesitate,
Lord, to offer Isaac, while yet a youth, as a sac-
rifice to thee, that they might understand that
there is nothing which ought not to be presented
to the Lord, when they perceived that I did not
spare even my only son : I left. Lord, my coun-
try, and my family, at thy command, that they
also might have an example teaching them to
leave the wickedness of the world and the age :
I, Lord, was the first to recognize thee, though
under a corporeal" form, nor did I hesitate to
believe who it was that I beheld, although thou
didst appear to me in a different form from
thine own, that these might learn to judge, not ac-
cording to the flesh, but according to the spirit."
Him the blessed Moses will support in his plead-
ings, saying : " I Lord, delivered the law to all
these, at thy command, that those whom a free '^
faith did not influence, the spoken law at least
might restrain: I said, 'Thou shalt not ^ com-
mit adultery,' in order that I might prevent the
licentiousness of fornication : I said, ' Thou shalt
love^ thy neighbor,' that affection might abound ;
I said, ' Thou shalt worship the Lord alone,' ^
in order that these might not sacrifice to idols,
or allow temples to exist; I commanded that
false witness should not be spoken, that I might
shut the lips of these people against all falsehood.
I set forth the things which had been done and
said from the beginning of the world, through
the working within me of the spirit of thy
power, that a knowledge of things past might
convey to these people instruction about things
to come. I predicted, O Lord Jesus, thy com-
ing, that it might not be an unexpected thing to
these people, when they were called to acknowl-
edge him whom I had before announced as
about to come."

CHAPTER V.

After him, there will stand up David worthy
of his descendant the Lord, and declare : " I,
Lord, proclaimed thee by every means ; I set
forth that only thy name was to be worshiped ;
I said, ' Blessed is the man ^ who fears .the
I,ord ' ; I said too, 'The saints shall "be joyful
in glory ' ; and I said, ' The desire of the

' Abraham lived (in round numbers) about 2000 years B.C., and
assuming the beginning of the world to have been about 4000 years
B.C., he may thus be said to have lived aboiit " the mid-time." The
note of Clericus which refers the words to the cnd^ci the world
seems quite mistaken.

- The reference is to Gen. xviii.

■> A faith having no regard to either rewards or punishments.

* Ex. .\x. 14. " Kx. XX. 3, &c.

'' Lev. xix. 18. ' Ps. cxi. i.

" Deut. vi. 13. ' Ps. cxlix. 5.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

wicked^ shall perish,' that these people might
acknowledge thee and cease to sin. I, when
I had become possessed of royal power, clothed
in sackcloth, with dust spread beneath me, and
with the emblems of my greatness laid aside, lay
down in my clothes, that an example might be
given to these people of gentleness and humility.
I spared my enemies who desired to slay me,
that these people might approve of my merciful-
ness, as worthy of being imitated." After him,
Isaiah, who was worthy of the Spirit of God,
will not be silent ; but will say : '' I, Lord,
whilst thou wast speaking through my mouth,
gave this warning, — 'Woe to those'' who join
house to house,' that I might set a limit to
covetousness. I bore witness that thine anger
came upon the wicked, that at any rate fear of
punishment, if not hope of reward, might keep
back these people from their evil deeds."

CHAPTER VI.

After these, and several others who have
discharged for us the duties of instruction, the
Son of God himself will speak thus : " I, cer-
tainly, exalted on a lofty seat, holding heaven
in my hand, and the earth in my fist, extended
within and without, in the inside of all things
which are produced, and on the outside of all '
things that move, inconceivable, infinite in the
power - of nature, invisible to sight, inaccessible
to touch, in order that I might exist as the least
of you (for the purpose of subduing the hard-
ness of your heart and for softening your faith-
lessness by sound doctrines), condescended to
be born in flesh, and, having laid aside the glory
of God, I assumed the form of a servant, so that,
sharing with you in bodily infirmity, I might in
turn bring you to a participation in iny glory,
through obedience to the precept of salvation.
I restored health to the sick and infirm, hearing
to the deaf, sight to the blind, the power of
speech to the dumb, and the use of their feet
to the lame ; that I might influence you, by
heavenly signs, all the more easily to believe in
me, and in those things which I had announced,
I promised you the kingdom of heaven ; I also,
in order that you might have an example of
escape from punishment, placed in Paradise the
robber who acknowledged me almost at the
moment of his death, that ye might follow even
the faith of him who had been thought worthy
of having his sins forgiven him. And that by
my example in your behalf, ye yourselves also
might be able to suffer ; I suffered for you, that

3 Ps. cxii. lo. < Isa. v. 8.

' The divine omnipresence is here denoted.
. ^ P"".' according to another punctuation, " inconceivable in nature,
unnite in power."

no man might hesitate to suffer for himself what
God^ had endured for man. I showed myself
after my resurrection, in order that your faith
might not be overthrown. I admonished the
Jews in the person of Peter ; I preached to the
Gentiles in the person of Paul ; and I do
not regret doing so, for good results followed.
The good have understood my work ; the faith-
ful have perfected it ; the righteous have com-
pleted it ; the merciful have consummated it :
there have been a large number of martyrs, and
a large number of saints. Those to whom I
thus refer were undoubtedly in the same body
and in the same world as you. Why, then, do
I find no good work in you, ye descendants of
vipers ? Ye have shown no repentance for your
wicked deeds, even at the very end of your
earthly course. And what does it profit that ye
honor me with your lips, when you deny me \sy
your deeds and works? Where are now your
riches, where your honors, where your powers,
and where your pleasures? I pronounce no
new sentence over you : you simply incur the
judgment which I formerly predicted."

CHAPTER VII.

Then will the Evangelist repeat this to the
wretched beings, " Go ye ^ into outer dark-
ness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of
teeth." O ye miserable men, whom these words
do not now impress ! They shall then see their
own punishment, and the glory of others. Let
them use this present world, provided they do
not enjoy that eternity which is prepared for the
saints. Let them abound in riches : let them
rest on gold ; provided that there they be found
needy and destitute. Let them be wealthy in
this world, provided they be poor in eternity,
for it is written regarding them, "The rich were
in- want, and suffered hunger." But the Scrip-
ture has added what follows respecting the good,
— " but those who seek the Lord shall not want
any good thing."

Therefore, my sister, although those people
mock at us, and although they call us foolish
and unhappy, let us all the more joyfiilly exult
in such reproaches, by which glory is heaped up
for us, and punishment for them. And do not
let us laugh at their folly, but rather grieve over
their unhappiness ; because there is among
them a large number of our own people, whom
if we win over, our glory shall be increased.
But howevefthey may conduct themselves, let

* Cleritiis thinks this expression unscriptural, and fitted to sup-
port heresy. But it may be justified by such a passage as Acts xx.
28, if fleoO be accepted as the correct reading, which is now generally
agreed upon.

1 St. Matt. xxii. 13.

2 Ps. xxxiv. 10: the above rendering entirely departs from the
Hebrew text.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

them be to us as Gentiles and publicans ; but
let us keep ourselves safe and sound. If they
rejoice now over us lamenting, it will be our
turn afterwards to rejoice over their suffering.
Farewell, dearest sister, and tenderly beloved in
Christ.

LETTER II.

A LETTER OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS TO HIS SISTER
CLAUDIA CONCERNING VIRGINITY.

CHAPTER I.

How great blessedness, among heavenly gifts,
belongs to holy virginity, besides the testimonies
of the Scriptures, we learn also from the prac-
tice of the Church, by which we are taught that
a peculiar merit belongs to those who have de-
voted themselves to it by special consecration.
For while the whole multitude of those that
believe receive equal gifts of grace, and all re-
joice in the same blessings of the sacraments,
those who are virgins possess something above
the rest, since, out of the holy and unstained
company of the Church, they are chosen by the
Holy Spirit, and are presented by the bishop ^
at the altar of God, as if being more holy and
pure sacrifices, on account of the merits of their
voluntary dedication. This is truly a sacrifice
worthy of God, inasmuch as it is the offering of
so precious a being, and none will please him
more than the sacrifice of his own image. For
I think that the Apostle especially referred to a
sacrifice of this kind, when he said, " Now, 1
beseech you, brethren, by the mercy cf God,
that you present your bodies a living sacrifice,
holy and acceptable - to God." Virginity, there-
fore, possesses both that which others have, and
that which others have not ; while it obtains
both common and special grace, and rejoices
(so to speak) in its own peculiar privilege of
consecration. For ecclesiastical authority per-
mits us to style virgins also the brides of Christ ;
while, after the manner of brides, it veils those
whom it consecrates to the Lord, openly exhib-
iting those as very especially about to possess
spiritual marriage who have fled away from car-
nal fellowship. And those are worthily united,
after a spiritual manner, to God, in accordance
with the analogy of marriage, who, from love to
him, have set at nought human alliances. In
their case, that saying of the aposde finds its
fullest possible fulfillment, " He who is joined
to the Lord,^ is one spirit."

' " per siimmum sacerdotem."
' Rom. xii. i.
' I Cor. vi. !■;.

CHAPTER II.

For it is a great and a divine thing, almost
beyond a corporeal nature, to lay aside ' luxury,
and to extinguish, by strength of mind, the
flame of concupiscence, kindled by the torch of
youth ; to put down by spiritual effort the force
of natural delight ; to live in opposition to the
practice of the human race ; to despise the
comforts of wedlock ; to disdain the sweet en-
joyments derived from children ; and to regard
as nothing, in the hope of future blessedness,
everything that is reckoned among the advan-
tages of this present life. This is, as I have
said, a great and admirable virtue, and is not
undeservedly destined to a vast reward, in pro-
portion to the greatness of its labor. The
Scripture says, " I will give to the eunuchs, saith
the Lord, a place in my house and within my
walls, a place counted better than- sons and
daughters ; I will give them an eternal name,
and it shaU not^ fail." The Lord again speaks
concerning such enunchs in the Gospel, saying,
" For there are eunuchs who have made them-
selves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's
sake."^ Great, indeed, is the struggle con-
nected with chastity, but greater is the reward ;
the restraint is temporal, but the reward will
be eternal. For the blessed Apostle John also
speaks concerning these, saying that '' they fol-
low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth."^ This,
I think, is to be understood to the following
effect, that there will be no place in the court of
heaven closed against them, but that all the
habitations of the divine mansions will be thrown
open before them.

CHAPTER III.

But that the merit of virginity may shine
forth more clearly, and that there may be a
better understanding as to how worthy it is of
God, let this be considered, that the Lord God,
our Saviour, when, for the salvation of the human
race, he condescended to assume mankind, chose
no other than a virgin's womb, that he might
show how virtue of this kind especially pleased
him ; and that he might point out the blessed-
ness of chastity to both sexes, he had a virgin
mother, while he himself was ever to remain in
a like condition. He thus furnished in his own
person to men, and in the person of his mother
to women, an example of virginity, by which it
might be proved, with respect to both sexes,
that the blessed state of purity possessed the

' " sopire hixuriam," lit. to put to sleep.

2 "a filiis ct fillabus": a mistaken rendering of the Hebrew

text.

3 Isa. Ivi. 5.

* Matt. xix. 12.

o Rev. xiv. 4.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

xuUness of divinity/ for whatever dwelt in the Son
was also wholly in the mother. But why should
I take pains to make known the excellent and
surpassing merit of chastity, and to set forth the
glorious good of virginity, when I am not igno-
rant thatmany have discoursed on this subject,
and have proved its blessedness by most con-
clusive reasons, and since it can never be a mat-
ter of doubt to any reflecting mind, that a thing
has all the more merit, the more difficult it is of
accomplishment? For if any one judges chas-
tity to be of no moment or only of small con-
sequence, it is certain that he is either ignorant
of the matter, or is not willing to incur the
trouble it implies. Hence it comes to pass
that those always derogate from the importance
of chastity, who either do not possess it, or who
are unwillingly compelled to maintain it.

CHAPTER IV.

Now, therefore, since we have set forth, al-
though in few words, both the difficulty and the
merit of purity, great care must be taken lest a
matter which in itself implies great virtue, and
is also destined to a vast reward, should fail to
produce its proper fruits. For the more pre-
cious every sort of thing is, the more it is
guarded with anxious solicitude. And since
there are many things which fail to secure their
proper excellence, unless they are assisted by
the aid of other things, as is, for instance, the
case with honey, which, unless it is preserved by
the protection of Avax, and by the cells of the
honeycombs, and is indeed, to state the matter
more truly, sustained by these, loses its delicious-
ness and cannot exist apart by itself; and
again as it is with wine, which, unless it be kept
in vessels of a pleasant odor, and with the i)itch
frequently renewed, loses the power of its
natural sweetness ; so, great care must be taken
lest perchance some things may be necessary
also to virginity, without which it can by no
means produce its proper fruits, and thus a
matter of so great difficulty may be of no advan-
tage (while all the time it is believed to be of
advantage), because it is possessed without the
other necessary adjuncts. For unless I am
mistaken, chastity is preserved in its entirety, for
the sake of the reward to be obtained in the
kingdom of heaven, which it is perfectly certain
no one can obtain who does ^ not deserve eternal
life. But that eternal life cannot be merited
except by the keeping of all the divine com-
mandments, the Scripture testifies, saying, " If
thou wilt enter into life, keep the command-

1 The text is here most uncertain; that adopted by Halm seems
unintelligible.

1 " quod sine aternae vitae merito nerainem consequi posse satis
certum est."

ments."" Therefore no one has that life, except
the man who has kept all the precepts of the
law, and he who has not such life cannot be a
possessor of the kingdom of heaven, in which it
is not the dead, but the living who shall reign.
Therefore virginity, which hopes for the glory of
the kingdom of heaven, will profit nothing by
itself, unless it also possess that to which eternal
life is promised, by means of which the leward
of the kingdom of heaven is possessed. Above
all things, therefore, the commandments which
have been enjoined upon us must be kept by
those who preserve chastity in its entireness, and
who are hoping for its reward from the justice of
God, lest otherwise the pains taken to maintain
a glorious chastity and continence come to
nothing. No one acquainted with the law does
not know that virginity is above ^ the command-
ment or precept, as the Apostle says, " Now,
as to virgins, I have no precept of the Lord, but
I give my advice." ■* When, therefore, he simply
gives advice about maintaining virginity, and
lays down no precept, he acknowledges that it
is above the commandment. Those, therefore,
who preserve virginity, do more than the com-
mandment requires. But it will then Oidy profit
you to have done more than was commanded, if
you also do that which is commanded. For
how can you boast that you have done more, if,
in respect to some point, you do less ? Desiring
to fulfill the Divine counsel, see that, above all
things, you keep the commandment : wishing to
attain to the reward of virginity, see that you
keep fast hold of what is necessary to merit life,
that your chastity may be such as can receive
a recompense. For as the observance of the
commandments ensures life, so, on the other
hand, does the violation give rise to death.
And he who through disobedience has been
doomed to death cannot hope for the crown
pertaining to virginity ; nor, when really handed
over to punishment, can he expect the reward
promised to chastity.

CHAPTER V.

Now, there are three kinds of virtue, by
means of which the possession of the kingdom
of heaven is secured. The first is chastity, the
second, contempt of the world, and the third,
righteousness, which, as when joined together,
they very greatly benefit their possessors, so,
when separated, they can hardly be of any
advantage, since every one of them is required,
not for its own sake only, but for the sake of
another. First of all, then, chastity is demanded.

- Matt. xi.v. 17.

3 " supra mandatum": Clericus remarks on this, " Non supra,
SGdprceter, nam ea de re nihil praecepit Christus."
* I Cor. vii. 25.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

that contempt of the world may more easily
follow, because the world can be more easily
despised by those who are not held fast in the
bonds of matrimony. Contempt of the world,
again, is required, in order that righteousness
may be maintained, which those can with diffi-
culty fully preserve who are involved in desires
after worldly advantages, and in the pursuit of
mundane pleasures. Whosoever, therefore, pos-
sesses the first kind of virtue, chastity, but does
not, at the same time, have the second, which
is contempt of the world, possesses the first
almost to no purpose, since he does not have
the second, for the sake of which the first was
required. And if any one possesses the first
and second, but is destitute of the third which
is righteousness, he labors in vain, since the
former two are principally required for the sake
of the third. For what profits it to possess
chastity in order to contempt of the world, and
yet not to have that on account of which you
have the other? Or why should you despise
the things of the world, if you do not observe
righteousness, for the sake of which it is fitting
that you should possess chastity, as well as con-
tempt for the world? For as the first kind of
virtue is on account of the second, and the sec-
ond on account of the third, so the first and the
second are on account of the third ; and if it
does not exist, neither the first nor the second
will prove of any advantage.

CHAPTER VI.

But you perhaps say here, ''•' Teach me,
then, what righteousness is, so that knowing it,
I may be able more easily to fully practice it."
Well, I shall briefly explain it to you, as I am
able, and shall use the simplicity of common
words, seeing that the subject of which we treat
is such as ought by no means to be obscured by
attemy)ts at elocjuent description, but should be
opened up by the simplest forms of expression.
For a matter which is necessary to all in common
ought to be set forth in a common sort of speech.
Righteousness, then, is nothing else than not to
commit sin ; and not to commit sin is just to
keep the precepts of the law. Now, the ob-
servance of these precepts is maintained in a
two-fold way — thus, that one do none of those
things which are forbidden, and that he strive to
fulfill the things whicji are commanded. This is
the meaning of the following statement : " De-
part from evil, and do ^ good." For I do not
wish you to think that righteousness consists
simply in not doing evil, since not to do good is
also evil, and a transgression of the law takes
place in both, since he who said, " Depart from
evil " said also, " and do good." If you depart

1 Ps. xxxiv. 14.

from evil, and do not do good, you are a trans-
gressor of the law, which is fulfilled, not simply
by abhorring all evil deeds, but also by the
performance of good works. For, indeed, you
have not merely received this commandment,
that you should not deprive one who is clothed
of his garments, but that you should cover with
your own the man who has been deprived of
his ; nor that you should not take away bread
of his own from one who has it, but that you
shou'd willingly impart of your bread to him
who has none ; nor that you should not simply
not drive away a poor man from a shelter of his
own, but that you should receive him when he
has been driven out, and has no shelter, into
your own. For the precept which has been
given us is " to weep with them that ^ weep."
But how can we weep with them, if we share in
none of their necessities, and afi'ord no help to
them in those matters on account of which they
lament? For God does not call for the fruit-
less moisture of our tears; but, because tears
are an indication of grief, he wishes you to feel
the distresses of another as if they were your
own. And just as you would wish aid to be
given you if you were in such tribulation, so
should you help another in accordance with the
statement, " Whatsoever ye would that men
should do unto you, do ye even so ^ to them."
For to weep with one that weeps, and at the
same time to refuse to help, when you can, him
that weeps, is a proof of mockery, and not of
piety. In short, our Saviour wept with INIary
and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, and proved
the feeling of infinite compassion within him by
the witness of hi^ tears. But works, as the
proofs of true affection soon followed, when
Lazarus, for whose sake the tears were shed, was
raised up and restored to his sisters. This was
sincerely to weep with those who wept, v>i\en the
occasion of the weeping was removed. But he
did it, you will say, as having the power. Well,
nothing is demanded of you which it is impos-
sible for you to perform : he has fulfilled his
entire duty who has done what he could.

CHAPTER VII.

But (as we hatl begun to remark) it is not
sufficient for a Christian to keep himself from
wickedness, unless he also has fiilfilled the duties
implied in good works, as is very distinctly
proved by that statement in which the Lord
threatened that those will be doomed to eternal
fire, who, although they have done no evil, have
not done all that is good, declaring " Then
will the king' say to those who are on his right
hand : depart from me, ye cursed, into eternal

2 Rom. xii. 15.

5 JMatt. vii. 12.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

fire, which my Father has prepared for the devil
and his angels ; for I was hungry, and ye gave
me not to eat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me
no ' drink," with what follows. He did not say,
"Depart from me, ye cursed, because ye have
committed murder, or adultery, or theft " ; for
it is not because they had done evil, but because
they had not done good, that they are con-
demned, and doomed to the punishments of
the eternal Gehenna ; nor because they had
committed things which were forbidden, but
because they had not been willing to do those
things which had been commanded. And from
this it is to be observed what hope those can
have, who, in addition, do some of those things
which are forbidden, when even such are doomed
to eternal fire as have simply not done the things
which are commanded. For I do not wish you
to flatter yourself in this way, — if you have not
done certain things, because you have done cer-
tain other things, since it is written, " Whoso-
ever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in
one point, has become guilty of all."- For
Adam sinned once, and died ; and do you think
that you can live, when you are often doing that
which killed another person, when he had only
done it once? Or do you imagine that he com-
mitted a great crime, and was therefore justly
condemned to a severer punishment? Let us
consider, then, what it was he really did. He
ate of the fruit of the tree, contrary to the com-
mandment. What then? Did Ciod punish man
with death for the sake of the fruit of a tree ?
No : not on account of the fruit of the tree, but
on account of the contempt of the command-
ment. The question, therefore, is not about the
nature of the offense, but about the trans-
gression of the commandment. And the same
being who told Adam not to eat of the fruit of
the tree, has commanded you not to speak evil,
not to lie, not to detract, not to listen to a de-
tractor, to swear not at all, not to covet, not to
envy, not to be drunken, not to be greedy, not
to render evil for evil to any one, to love your
enemies, to bless them that curse you, to pray
for them that malign and persecute you-, to turn
the other cheek to one smiting you, and not to
go to law before a worldly tribunal, so that, if
any one seeks to take away your goods, you
should joyfully lose them, to flee from the charge
of avarice, to beware of the sin of all pride and
boastfulness, and live, humble and meek, after
the example of Christ, avoiding fellowship with
the wicked so completely that you will not even
eat with fornicators, or covetous persons, or
those that speak evil of others, or the envious,
or detractors, or the drunken, or the rapacious.
Now, if you despise him in any such matter.

1 Matt. XXV. 41.

* James ii. lo-

then, if he spared Adam, he will also spare you.
Yea, he might have been spared with better
reason than you, inasmuch as he was still igno-
rant and inexperienced, and was restrained by
the example of no one who had previously
sinned, and who had died on account of his sin.
But after such examples as you possess, after
the law, after the prophets, after the gospels, and
after the apostles, if you still set your mind on
transgressing, I see not in what way pardon can
be extended to you.

CHAPTER VHL

Do you flatter yourself on account of the at-
tribute of virginity? Remember Adam and
Eve fell when they were virgins, and that the
perfect purity of their bodies did not profit them
when they sinned. The virgin who sins is to be
compared to Eve, and not to Mary. We do not
deny that, in the present life, there is the rem-
edy of repentance, but we remind you rather to
hope for reward, than to look for pardon. For
it is disgraceful that those should ask for indul-
gence who are expecting' the crown of virginity,
and that those should commit anything unlawful
who have even cut themselves off from things
lawful ; for it must be remembered that it is law-
ful to contract an alliance by marriage. And
as those are to be praised who, from love to
Christ, and for the glory of the kingdom of
heaven, have despised the tie of wedlock, so
those are to be condemned who, through the
pleasure of incontinence, after they have vowed
themselves to God, have recourse to the Apostolic
remedy. Therefore, as we have said, those who
decline marriage despise not things unlawful,
but things lawful. And if that class of people
swear, if they speak evil of others, if they are
detractors, or if they patiently listen to detract-
ors, if they return evil for evil, if they incur the
charge of covetousness with respect to other
people's property, or of avarice in regard to
their own, if they cherish the poison of revenge
or envy, if they either say or think anything
unbefitting against the institutions of the law or
the Apostles, if with a desire of pleasing in the
flesh, they exhibit themselves dressed up and
adorned, if they do any other unlawful things,
as is only too common, what will it profit them
to have spurned what is lawful, while they prac-
tice what is not lawful ? If you wish it to be of
advantage to you, that you have despised things
lawful, take care that you do not any of those
things which are not lawful. For, it is foolish
to have dreaded that which is in its nature less,
and not to dread that which is intrinsically more
[or not to avoid those things ' which are inter-

' The genuineness of this clause is very doubtful, and the text
is, at best, exceedingly corrupt.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

dieted, while such things as are permitted meet
with contempt]. For the Apostle says, "She
that is unmarried careth for the things of the
Lord, how she may please God, that she may
be holy both in body and spirit ; but she v/ho is
married careth for the things of this world, how
she may please^ her husband." He thus affirms
that the married woman pleases her husband by
thinking of worldly things, while the unmarried
woman pleases God, inasmuch as she has no
anxiety about the things of the world. Let him
tell me, then, whom she desires to please, who
has no husband, and yet cares for the things of
the world? Shall not the married woman, in
such a case, be preferred to her? Yes, since
she by caring for the things of the world pleases
at least her husband, but the other neither
pleases her husband, since she does not have
one, nor can she please God.^ But it is not
fitting that we should pass over in silence that
which he said : " The unmarried woman careth
for the things of the Lord, how she may please
God, that she may be holy both in body and
spirit " [she careth, he.says, for the things of the
Lord ; she does not care for the things of the
world, or of men, but for the things of God].
What, then, are the things of the Lord? Let
the Apostle tell : "Whatsoever'* things are holy,
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if
there be any virtue, and if there be any praise of
doctrine " : these are the things of the Lord,
which holy and truly apostolic virgins meditate
upon, and think of, day and night, without any
interval of time. Of the Lord is the resurrec-
tion of the dead, of the Lord is immortality, of
the Lord is incorruption, of the Lord is that
splendor of the sun which is promised to the
saints, as it is written in the Gospel, " Then
shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the
kingdom of their Father" :^ of the Lord are the
many mansions of the righteous in the heavens,
of the Lord is the fruit which is produced,
whether thirty fold, or sixty fold, or an hundred
fold. Those virgins who think on these things,
and by what works they may be able to merit
them, think of the things of the Lord. Of the
Lord, too, is the law of the new and old tes-
tament, in which shine forth the holy utterances
of his lips ; and if any virgins meditate without
intermission on these things, they think of the
things of the Lord. In that case, there is ful-
filled in them the saying of the prophet : " The
eternal" foundations are upon a solid rock, and
the commands of God are in the heart of the
holy woman."

^ I Cor. vii. 34.

' The text is here very uncertain; we have followed that of
Halm, but with hesitation.

* Phil. iv. 8, with the addition of eTriar^iotr)?.

o Matt. xiii. 43. '^ Eccl. xxvi. 24.

CHAPTER IX.

There follows the clause " how she may
please God," — God, I say, not men, — " that she
may be holy both in body and spirit." He does
not say that she may be holy only in a member
or in the body, but that she may be holy in
body and spirit. For a member is only one
part of the body, but the body is a union of all
the members. Wlien, therefore, he says that
she may be holy in the body, he testifies that
she ought to be sanctified in all her members,
because the sanctification of the other members
will not avail, if corruption be found remaining
in one. Also, she will not be holy in body
(which consists of all the members), who is de-
filed by the pollution of even one of them.
But in order that what I say may be made more
obvious and clear, suppose the case of a woman
who is purified by the sanctification of all her
other members, and sins only with her tongue,
inasmuch as she either speaks evil -^ of people or
bears false testimony, will all her other members
secure the acquittal of one, or will all the rest
be judged on account of the one? If, there-
fore, the sanctification of the other members
will not avail, even when one only is at fault,
how much more, if all are corrupted by the
guilt of various sins, will the perfection of one
be of no avail ?

CHAPTER X.

Wherefore, I beseech you, O virgin, do not
flatter yourself on the ground of your purity
alone, and do not trust in the perfection of one
member ; but according to the Apostle, main-
tain the sanctity of }'Our body throughout.
Cleanse thy head from all defilement, because
it is a disgrace that it, after the sanctifying oil
has been applied to it, should be polluted with
the juice or powder of either crocus, or any
other pigment, or should be adorned with gold
or gems or any other earthly ornament, because
it already shines with the radiance of heavenly
adornment. It is undoubtedly a grave insult to
Divine grace to prefer to it any mundane and
worldly ornament. And next, cleanse thy fore-
head, that it may blush at human, and not at
Divine works, and may display that shame which
gives rise not to sin, but to the favor of (iod,
as the sacred Scripture declares, "There is a
shame that causes sin, and there is a shame that
brings with it the favor ^ of God." Cleanse,
too, thy neck, that it may not carry thy - locks
in a golden net and necklaces hung round it.

^ " Blasphemet."
' Eccl. iv. 21.

- The text is here most uncertain; Halm's " ut non aurea reti-
cula capillus portet " is " that thy hair may not carry golden nets."

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

but may rather bear about it those ornaments
of which the Scripture says, "Let not^ mercy
and faith depart from thee," and hang them
upon thy heart as upon thy neck. Cleanse thine
eyes, whilst thou dost withdraw them from all
concupiscence, and dost never turn them away
from the sight of the j^oor, and dost keep them
from all dyes, in that purity in which they were
made by God. Cleanse thy tongue from false-
hood, because " a mouth * which tells lies de-
stroys the soul " : cleanse it from detraction, from
swearing, and from perjury. I beg you not to
think it is an inverted order that I have said the
tongue should be cleansed from swearing be-
fore perjury, for one will then the more easily
escape perjury, if he swears not at all, so that
there may _ be fulfilled in him that statement,
" Keep ' thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from
speaking guile." And be mindful of the Apostle
who says, "Bless, and ^ curse not." But often
call to mind the following words, " See that
no one render evil for evil to any man, or curs-
ing for cursing, but on the contrary, do ye bless
them, because to this ye have been called, that
ye should possess a blessing 'by inheritance";
and this other passage, " If any * one offend
not in tongue, he is a perfect man." For it is
shameful that those lips, by which you confess
God, pray to him, bless him, and praise him,
should be defiled by the pollution of any sin.
I know not with what conscience any one can
pray to God with that tongue with which he
either speaks falsehood, or calumniates, or de-
tracts. God listens to holy lips, and speedily
answers those prayers which an unpolluted
tongue pours forth. Cleanse also thine ears, so
that they may not listen except to holy and true
discourse, that they never admit into them ob-
scene, or infamous, or worldly words, or tolerate
any one detracting from another, on account of
that which is written, " Hedge up ^ thine ears
with thorns, and do not listen to a wicked
tongue, that you may have your part with him,
of whom it is said, that he was ^" righteous in
hearing and seeing ; i.e. he sinned neither with
his eyes nor his ears. Cleanse, too, thy hands,
" that they ^^ be not stretched out to receive, but
shut against giving," and that they be not prompt
to strike, but ever ready for all the works of
mercy and piety. In fine, cleanse thy feet, that
they follow not the broad and ample way which
leads to grand and costly worldly banquets, but
that they tread rather the difficult and narrow
path, which guides to heaven, for it is written,
"Make a^^ straight path for your feet." Ac-
knowledge that your members were formed for

' ProY. iii. 3.

* Wisd. i. II.

'' Ps. xxxiv. 13.

^ Rom. xii. 14.

' I Thess. V. 15; I Pet.

111. 9.

' James iii. 2.

* Eccl. xxviii. 24.
" 2 Pet. ii. 8.
^' Eccles. iv. 31.
^- Prov. iv. 26.

you by God the Maker, not for vices, but for
virtues ; and, when you have cleansed the whole
of your limbs from every stain of sin, and they
have become sanctified throughout your whole
body, then understand that this purity will profit
you, and look forward with all confidence to the
prize of virginity.

CHAPTER XL

I EELTEVE that I have now set forth, briefly
indeed, but, at the same time, fully, what is im-
pUed in a woman's purity of body : it remains
that we should learn what it is to be pure also
in spirit ; i.e. that what it is unlawful for one to
do in act, it is also unlawful for one even to
imagine in thought. For she is holy, alike in
body and in spirit, who sins neither in mind nor
heart, knowing that God is one who examines
also the heart ; and, therefore, she takes every
pains to possess a mind as well . as a body free
from sin. Such a person is aware that it is
written, "Keep thy^ heart with all diligence";
and again, " God loveth - holy hearts, and all
the undefiled are acceptable to him " ; and else-
where, " Blessed ^ are those of a pure heart ; for
they shall see God." I think that this last
statement is made regarding those whom con-
science accuses of the guilt of no sin ; concern-
ing whom I think that John also spoke in his
Epistle when he said, " If our heart * condemn
us not, then have we confidence towards God,
and whatsoever we ask we shall receive from
him." I do not wish you to think that you have
escaped the accusation of sin, although act does
not follow desire, since it is written, " Whoso-
ever^ looketh on a woman to lust after her,
hath already committed adultery with her in his
heart." And do not say, " I had the thought,
indeed, but I did not carry it out in act " ; for
it is unlawful even to desire that which it is
unlawful to do. Wherefore also blessed Peter
issues a precept to this effect : " purify your "
souls " ; and if he had not been aware of such
a thing as defilement of the soul, he would not
have expressed a desire that it should be puri-
fied. But we should also very carefully con-
sider that passage which says, " These '' are
they who did not defile themselves with women,
for they remained virgins, and they follow the
Lamb whithersoever he goeth " ; and should re-
flect whether, if these are joined to the Divine
retinue, and traverse all the regions of the
heavens, through the merit of chastity and
purity alone, there may be also other means by
which virginity being assisted may attain to the

' Prov. iv. 23.

- Prov. xvii. 3; xi. 20.

3 Matt. V. 8.

•• I John iii, 21.

6 Matt. V. 28.
8 I Pet. i. 22.
' Rev. xiv. 4.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

glory of so great blessedness. But whence
shall we be able to know this ? From the fol-
lowing passages (if I mistake not) in which it is
written, "These were^ purchased from among
men as the first fruits to God and the Lamb,
and in their mouth there was found no false-
hood, for they are without spot before the throne
of God." You see, then, that they are spoken
of as closely following in the footsteps of the
Lord, not in virtue of one member only, but
those are said to do so, who, besides virginity,
had passed a life freed from all the pollution of
sin. Wherefore, let the virgin especially despise
marriage' on this account, that, while she is safer
than others, she may the more easily accomplish
what is also required from those who are mar-
ried ; viz. keep herself from all sin, and obey
all the commandments of the law. For if she
does not marry, and nevertheless indulges in
those things from which even married women
are enjoined to keep themselves free, what will
it profit her not to have married? For although
it is not allowed to any Christian to commit sin,
and it befits all without exception who are puri-
fied through the sanctification of the spiritual
bath, to lead an unstained life, that they may be
thoroughly identified^ with the Church, which
is described as being " without ^'^ spot, or wrinkle,
or any such thing," much more is it requisite
that a virgin should reach this standard, whom
neither the existence of a husband, nor of sons,
nor of any other necessity, prevents from fully
carrying out the demands of holy Scripture ; nor
shall she be able, if she fail, to defend herself
by any sort of excuse.

CHAPTER XIL

O VIRGIN, maintain thy purpose which is des-
tined for a great reward. Eminent with the
Lord is the virtue of virginity and purity, if it
be not disfigured by other kinds of lapses into
sins and wickedness. Realize your state, realize
your position, realize your purpose. You are
called the bride of Christ ; see that you commit
no act which is unworthy of him to whom you
profess to be betrothed. He will quickly write
a bill of divorcement, if he perceive in you even
one act of unfaithfulness. Accordingly, whoso-
ever receives those gifts which, as an earnest,
are bestowed in the case of human betrothals,
immediately begins earnestly and diligently to
enquire of domestics, intimates, and friends,
what is the character of the young man, what
he especially loves, what he receives, in what
style he lives, what habits he practices, what lux-
uries he indulges in, and in what pursuits he

' Rev. xiv. 4 ff.

• " visceribus intiraari.'

10 Eph. V. 27.

finds his chief pleasure and delight. And when
she has learned these things, she so conducts
herself, in all respects, that her service, her
cheerfulness, her diligence, and her whole mode
of life, may be in harmony with the char-
acter of her betrothed. And do thou, who
hast Christ as thy bridegroom, enquire from
the domestics and intimates of that bridegroom
of thine what is his character ; yes, do thou
zealously and skillfully enquire in what things he
specially delights, what sort of arrangement he
loves in thy dress, and what kind of adornment
he desires. Let his most intimate associate
Peter tell thee, who does not allow personal
adorning even to married women, as he has
written in his epistle, " Let wives,^ in like
manner, be subject to their own hysbands. so
that, if any believe not the word, they may,
without the word, be won over by the conduct
of their wives, contemplating their chaste be-
havior in the fear of God ; and let theirs not be
an outward adornment of the hair, or the put-
ting on of gold, or elegance in the apparel which
is adopted, but let there be the hidden man of
the heart in the stainlessness- of a peaceful
and modest spirit, wliich is in the sight of God
of great price." Let another apostle also tell
thee, the blessed Paul, who, writing to Timothy,
gives his approval to the same things in regard
to the conduct of believing women : " Let
wives " in like manner adorn themselves with the
ornament of a habit of modesty and sobriety,
not with curled hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly
array, but as becomes women that profess
chastity, with good and upright behavior."

CHAPTER Xni.

But perhaps you say, "Why did not the
Apostles enjoin these things on virgins ? " Be-
cause they did not think that necessary, lest such
an exhortation, if given to them, might rather
seem an insult than a means of edification. Nor,
in fact, would they have believed that virgins
could ever proceed to such an extreme of har-
dihood, as to claim for themselves carnal and
worldly ornaments, not permitted even to mar-
ried women. Undoubtedly, the virgin ought to
adorn and array herself; for how can she be
able to please her betrothed, if she does not
come forth in a neat and ornamental form?
Let her be adorned by all means, but let her
ornaments be of an internal and spiritual kind,
and not of a carnal nature ; for God desires in
her a beauty not of the body, but of the soul.
Do thou, therefore, who desirest that thy soul

' I Pet. iii. I fi'.
- " incorruptibilitate."

•' I Tim. ii. 9, 10; chastity is here unwarrantably read in place
oi godliness.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

6 =

should be loved and dwelt in by (lod, array it
with all diligence, and adorn it with spiritual
garments. Let nothing unbecoming, nothing
repulsive, be seen in it. Let it shine with the
gold of righteousness, and gleam with the gems
of holiness, and glitter with the most precious
pearl of purity ; instead of line linen and silk, let
it be arrayecl in the robe of mercifulness and
piety, according to what is written, " Put ye ^ on,
therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved,
bowels of mercy, kindness, humility," and so
forth. And let the virgin not ask for the beauty
due to ceruse,' or any other pigment, but let her
have the brightness of innocence and simplicity,
the rosy hue of modesty, and the purple glow of
honorable shamefacedness. Let her be washed
with the nitre of heavenly doctrine, and purified
by all spiritual lavements.^ Let no stain of
malice or sin be left in her. And lest, at any
time, she should give forth the evil odor of sin,
let her be imbued, through and through, with
the most pleasant ointment of wisdom and
knowledge.

CHAPTER XIV.

God seeks for adornment of this kind, and
desires a soul arrayed in such a manner. Re-
member that you are called the daughter of
God, according to what he says, " Hearken,^ O
daughter, and consider." But you yourself also,
as often as you call God your Father, bear wit-
ness that you are the daughter of God. Where-
fore, if you are the daughter of God, take care
that you do none of those things which are un-
worthy of God, your Father ; but do all things
as being the daughter of God. Reflect how the
daughters of nobles in this world conduct them-
selves, to what habits they are accustomed and
by what exercises they train themselves. Li
some of them, there is so great modesty, so great
dignity, so great self-restraint, that they excel
the habits of other human beings in regard to
human nobleness, and, lest they should attach
any mark of disgrace on their honorable parents
by their failure, they strive to acquire another -
nature for themselves by the mode of their
acting in the world. And do you, therefore,
have regard to your origin, consider your de-
scent, attend to the glory of your nobility.
Acknowledge that you are not merely the
daughter of man, but of God, and adorned with
the nobility of a divine birth. So present your-
self to the world that your heavenly birth be

* Col. iii. 12.

* "ceiussae": white lead, used by women to whiten their
skins.

^ " lomentis ": a mixture of bean-meal and rice, used as a
lotion to preserve the smoothness of the skin.

1 Ps. xlv. lO.

^ Only a guess can here be made at the meaning; the text is in
utter confusion.

seen in you, and your divine nobleness shine
clearly forth. Let there be in you a new dignity,
an admirable virtue, a notable modesty, a mar-
velous patience, a gait becoming a virgin with a
bearing of true shamefacedness, speech always
modest, and such as is uttered only at the
proper time, so that whosoever beholds you may
admiringly exclaim : " What is this exhibition of
new dignity among men? Wliat is this striking
modesty, what this well-balanced excellence,
what this ripeness of wisdom ? This is not the
outcome of human training or of mere human
discipline. Something heavenly sheds its fra-
grance on me in that earthly body. 'I really
believe that God does reside in some human
beings." And when he comes to know that you
are a handmaid of Christ, he will be seized with
the greater amazement, and will reflect how
marvelous must be the Master, when his hand-
maid manifests such excellence.

CHAPTER XV.

If you wish, then, to be with Christ, you must
live according to the example of Christ, who was
so far removed from all evil and wickedness,
that he did not render a recompense even to
his enemies, but rather even prayed for them.
For I do not wish you to reckon those souls
Christian, who (I do not' say) hate either their
brothers or sisters, but who do not, before God
as a witness, love their neighbors with their
whole heart and conscience, since it is a bounden
duty for Christians, after the example of Christ
himself, even to love their enemies. If you
desire to possess fellowship with the saints,
cleanse your heart from the thought of malice
and sin. Let no one circumvent you ; let no
one delude you by beguiling speech. The court
of heaven will admit none except the holy, and
righteous, and simple, and innocent, and pure.
Evil has no place in the presence of God. It is
necessary that he who desires to reign with
Christ should be free from all wickedness and
guile. Nothing is so ofl'ensive, and nothing so
detestable to God, as to hate any one, to wish
to harm any one ; while nothing is so acceptable
to him as to love all men. The prophet know-
ing this bears witness to it when he teaches,
"Ye who^ love the Lord, hate evil."

CHAPTER XVI.

Take heed that ye love not human glory in
any respect, lest your portion also be reckoned
among those to whom it was said, " How ^ can
ye believe, who seek glory, one from another? "

' Ps. xcvii. lo.

' John V. 44.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

and of whom it is said through the prophet,
" Increase - evils to them ; increase evils to the
boastful of the earth " ; and elsewhere, " Ye are
confounded ^ from your boasting, from your re-
proaching in the sight of the Lord." For I do
not wish you to have regard to those, who are
virgins of the world, and not of Christ ; who un-
mindful of their purpose and profession, rejoice
in delicacies, are delighted with riches, and boast
of their descent from a merely carnal nobility ;
who, if they assuredly believed themselves to be
the daughters of God, would never, after their
divine ancestry, admire mere human nobility,
nor glory in any honored earthly father : if they
felt that they had God as their Father, they
would not love any nobility connected with the
flesh. ^Vhy, thou foolish woman, dost thou
flatter thyself about the nobleness of thy descent,
and take delight in it? God, at the beginning,
created two human beings, from whom the whole
multitude of the human race has descended ;
and thus it is not the equity of nature, but the
ambition of evil desire, which has given rise to
worldly nobility. Unquestionably, we are all
rendered equal by the grace of the divine * bath,
and there can be no difference among those,
whom the second birth has generated, by means
of which alike the rich man and the poor man,
the free man and the slave, the nobly born and
the lowly born, is rendered a son of God. Thus
mere earthly rank is overshadowed by the bril-
liance of heavenly glory, and henceforth is taken
no account of, while those who formerly had
been unequal in worldly honors are now equally
arrayed in the glory of a heavenly and divine
nobility. There is now among such no place
for lowness of birth ; nor is any one inferior to
another whom the majesty of the divine birth
adorns ; except in the estimation of those who
do not think that the things of heaven are to be
preferred to those of earth. There can be no
worldly boasting among them, if they reflect how
vain a thing it is that they should, in smaller mat-
ters, prefer themselves to those whom they know
to be equal to themselves in greater matters, and
should regard, as placed below themselves on
earth, those whom they believe to be equal to
themselves in what relates to heaven. But do
thou, who art a virgin of Christ, and not of the
world, flee from all the glory of this present life,
that thou mayest attain to the glory which is
promised in the world to come.

CHAPTER XVII.

Avoid words of contention and causes of ani-
mosity : flee also from all occasions of discord

^ Isa. xxvi. 15, after the LXX.

3 Jer. xii. 13, after the LXX.

* divini lavacri " : referring to baptism.

and strife. For if, according to the doctrine of
the Apostle " the servant ^ of the Lord must not
strive," how much more does this become the
handmaid of the Lord, whose mind ought to be
more gentle, as her sex is more bashful and
retiring. Restrain thy tongue from evil speak-
ing, and put the bridle of the law upon thy
mouth ; so that you shall speak, if you speak at
all, only when it would be a sin to be silent.
Beware lest you utter anything which might be
justly found fault with. A word once spoken is
like a stone which has been thrown : wherefore
it should be long thought over before it is
uttered. Blessed, assuredly, are the lips, which
never utter what they would wish to recall.
The talk of a chaste mind ought itself also to be
chaste, such as may always rather edify than
injure the hearers, according to that command-
ment of the Apostle when he says, " Let no ^
corrupt communications proceed out of your
mouth, but that which is good for the edification
of faith, that it may convey grace to them that
hear." Precious to God is that tongue which
knows not to form words except about divine
things, and holy is that mouth from which
heavenly utterances continually flow forth. Put
down by the authority of Scripture calumniators
of those who are absent, as being evil-minded
persons, because the prophet mentions this also
as among the virtues of a perfect man, if, in the
presence of the righteous an evil-minded man,
who brings forward things against his neighbor
which cannot be proved, is brought down to
nothing. For it is not lawful for you patiently
to listen to evil-speaking against another, inas-
much as you would not wish that to be done by
others when directed against yourself. Certainly,
everything is unrighteous which goes against the
Gospel of Christ, and that is the case, if you
quietly permit anything to be done to another,
which you would feel painful, if done by any
one to yourself. Accustom your tongue always
to speak about those who are good, and lend
your ears rather to listen to the praises of good
men than to the condemnation of such as are
wicked. Take heed that all the good actions
you perform are done for the sake of God,
knowing that for every such deed you will only
receive a reward, so far as you have done it out
of regard to his fear and love. Study rather to
be holy than to appear so, because it is of no
avail to be reckoned what you are not ; and the
guilt of a twofold sin is contracted when you do
not have what you are credited with having, and
wlien you pretend to possess what you do not
possess.

1 2 Tim. ii. 24.

- Eph. iv. 29.

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

CHAPTER XVIII.

Delight thyself rather in fastings than in
feastings, mindful of that widow who did not
depart from the temple, but served God with
fastings and prayers day and night. Now, if
she who was a widow, and a Jewish widow,
proved herself such, what is it fitting that a vir-
gin of Christ should now attain to ? Love more
than any other thing the feast of the divine
word, and desire that you be filled with spiritual
dainties, while you seek for such food as re-
freshes the soul, rather than for that which only
pleases the body. Flee from all kinds of flesh
and wine, as being the sources of heat and
provocatives to lust. And only then, if need be,
use a little wine, when the stomach's uneasiness,
or great infirmity of body, requires you to do
so. Subdue anger, restrain enmity, and what-
ever there may be which gives rise to remorse
when it is done, avoid as an abomination giving
rise' to immediate sin. It is fitting that that
mind should be very tranquil and quiet, as well
as free from all the tumults of anger, which
desires to be the dwelling-place of God, as he
testifies through the prophet, saying, " Upon -
what other man shall I rest than upon him who
is humble and quiet, and who trembleth at my
words?" Believe that God is a witness of all
thy deeds and thoughts, and take good heed lest
you either do or think anything which is un-
worthy of the divine eyesight. When you de-
sire to engage in prayer, show yourself in such
a frame of mind as becomes one who is to speak
with the Lord.

CHAPTER XIX.

When you repeat' a psalm, consider whose
words you are repeating and delight yourself
more with true contrition of soul, than with the
pleasantness of a trilling voice. For God sets a
higher value on the tears of one thus praising ^
him, than on the beauty of his voice ; as the
prophet says, " Serve ^ the Lord with fear, and
rejoice with trembling." Now, where there are
fear and trembling, there is no lifting up of the
voice, but humility of mind with lamentation
and tears. Display diligence in all thy doings ;
for it is written, "Cursed* is the man who
carelessly performs the work of the Lord."
Let grace grow in you with years ; let righteous-
ness increase with age ; and let your faith ap-
pear the more perfect the older you become ;

• " velut proximi criminis aborainationem declina": the text
and construction are both very uncertain, so that we can only make
a guess at the meaning.

^ Isa. Ixvi. 2.

' " dicis ": the reference seems to be to singing or chanting.

* " psallentis." ^ Ps. ii. 11. * Jer. xlviii. 10.

for Jesus, who has left us an example how to
live, increased not only in years as respected
his body, but in wisdom and spiritual grace be-
fore God and men. Reckon all the time in
which you do not perceive yourself growing
better as positively lost. Maintain to the last
that purpose of virginity which you have formed ;
for it is the part of virtue not merely to begin,
but to finish, as the Lord says in the Gospel,
"Whosoever^ shall endure to the end, the same
shall be saved." Beware, therefore, lest you
furnish to any one an occasion even of evil
desire, because thy God, betrothed to thee, is
jealous ; for an adulteress against Chdst is more
guilty than one against her husband. Be thou,
therefore, a model of life to all ; be an example ;
and excel in actual conduct those whom you
precede in your consecration "^ to chastity.
Show thyself in all respects a virgin ; and let
no stain of corruption be brought as a charge
against thy person. And let one whose body is
perfect in its purity be also irreproachable in
conduct. Now, as we said in the beginning of
this letter, that you have become a sacrifice per-
taining to God, such a sacrifice as undoubtedly
imparts its own sanctity also to others, that, as
every one worthily receives from it, he himself
also may be a partaker of sanctification, so
then, let the other virgins also be sanctified
through you, as by means of a divine offering.
Show yourself to them so holy in all things,
that, whosoever comes in contact with thy life,
whether by hearing or seeing, may experience
the power of sanctification, and may feel that
such an amount of grace passes to him from
your manner of acting, that, while he desires to
imitate th^e, he himself becomes worthy of being
a sacrifice devoted to God.

LETTER in.

A LETTER OF SEVERUS TO HOLY PAUL THE
BISHOP.

After I learned that all thy cooks had given'
up thy kitchen (I believe because they felt in-
dignant at having to fulfill the duty towards cheap
dishes of pulse-), I sent a little boy to you out
of our own workshop. He is quite skillful enough
to cook pale beans and to pickle homely beet-
root, with vinegar and sauce, as well as to pre-
pare cheap porridge for the jaws of the hungry
monks. He knows nothing, however, of pepper
or of laser,'* but he is quite at home with cumin,

' Matt. X. 22.

" The text and meaning are here somewhat uncertain,
^ " renuntiasse."

- " pulmentariis ": this word generally means some sort of
relish, but here it seems to denote a kind of pottage.
^ Laser was the juice of a plant called laserpitium.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

and is especially clever in plying the noisy mor-
tar with sweetly smelling plants. He has one
fault, that he is no kindly foe to admit to any
garden ; for if let in, he will mow down with a
sword all things within his reach, and he will
never be satisfied with the slaughter simply of
mallows. However, in furnishing himself with
fuel he will not swindle you. He will burn what-
ever comes in his way ; he will cut down and
not hesitate to lay hands upon buildings, and to
carry off old beams from the househol(i| We
present him, then, to you, with this character
and these virtues ; and we wish you to regard
him not as a servant, but as a son, because you
are not ashamed to be the father of very small
creatures. I myself would have wished to serve
you instead of him ; but if good-will may be
taken as in some measure standing for the deed,
do you only, in return, take care to remember
me amid your breakfasts and delightful dinners,
because it is more proper to be your slave, than
the master of others. Pray for me.''

LETTER IV.

TO THE SAME, ON HIS WISDOM AND GENTLENESS.

The faithful exponent of our holy religion so
arranges all things that no place be found in
future for transgressors : for what else do you,
for instance, promise us by so great sanctity of
character, than that, all errors being laid aside,
we should lead a blessed life? In this matter,
I see that the greatest praise befits thy virtues,
b(^ause you have changed even an uninstructed
mind by your exhortations, and drawr^ it over to
an excellent condition. But it would not seem
so wonderful, if you had simply strengthened
educated minds by instilling wisdom into them ;
for intelligent men have a sort of relationship to
devotion, but rustic natures are not easily won
over to the side of severity.^ Just as those who
shape the forms of animals out of stone, under-
take a business of a pretty difficult kind, when
they strike very hard rocks with their chisels,
while those who make their attempts on sub-
stances of a softer nature feel that their hands
are aided by the ease of fashioning these mate-
rials, and it is deemed proper that the labor of
the workman, when difficult, should be held in
the highest honor, so, Sir, singular commenda-
tion ought so be given to you, because you have
made unpolished and rustic minds, set free from
the darkness of sin, both to think what is human,
and to understand what is divine.

* Clericus remarks, " Jocosa haec est epistola," but the fun is
certainly of a very ponderous kind. We arc, by no means, sure of
the sense in some parts of the letter.

' " crudelitati," which, as Clericus remarks, must here be
equivalent to severitati.

No less is Xenocrates, by far the most learned
of the philosophers, held in estimation, who suc-
ceeded by severe exhortations in having luxury
conquered. For when a certain Polemo, heavy
with wine, staggered openly out of a nocturnal
revel at the time when his hearers were flocking
to the school of Xenocrates, he, too, entered the
place, and impudently took his seat among the
crowd of disciples, in that dress in which he had
come forth from the banquet. A chaplet of
flowers covered his head, and yet he did not
feel ashamed that he would seem unlike all the
others, because, in truth, indulgence in a long
drinking-bout had upset his brains, which are
the seat of reason. As the rest of those there
present began to murmur grievously, because so
unsuitable a hearer had found his way in among
a multitude of men of letters, the master him-
self was not in the slightest degree disturbed,
but, on the contrary, began to discourse on the
science of morals, and the laws of moderation.
And so powerful proved the influence of the
teacher that the mind of that impudent intruder
was persuaded to the love of modesty. First of
all, then, Polemo, in utter confusion, took off
the chaplet from his head, and professed himself
a disciple. And in course of time he con-
formed himself so thoroughly to the duties im-
plied in dignity, and surrendered himself so
entirely to the exhibition of modesty, that a
glorious amendment of character threw a cloak
over the habits of his former life. Now we
admire this very thing in your instructions, that,
without the use of any threats, and without
having recourse to terrors of any kind, you have
turned infatuated minds to the worship of God \
so that even a badly ordered intellect should
believe it preferable - to live well and happily
with all, rather than to hold unrighteous opinions
with a few.

LETTER V.

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON, ENTREATING HIM TO
DEAL GENTLY WITH HIS BROTHER.

Although my lord and brother has already
begged of your nobleness that you would see
that Tutus should be most^ safe, yet it has been
allowed to me to commend the same person in
a letter, in order that, by the petition being
doubled, he may be held all the safer. For let
it be granted that a youthful fault and error of a
yet unsettled age has injured him, so as to in-
flict a stain on his early years ; still one, who did
not yet know what was due to right conduct,

^ " rectissimum," where rectiics might have been expected.

1 There is a play upon the words — " Tutum esse tutissimum."

LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful).

has gone wrong almost without contracting
blame. For when he came to a right state of
mind and to reflection, he understood on better
thoughts that a theatrical life was to be con-
demned. However, he could not be completely
cleared of his fiult, unless he should wash its
guilt away by the aid - of Deity, since, by the
remedy obtained through the Catholic religion,
changing his views, he has denied himself the
enjovment of a less honorable place, and has
withdrawn himself from the eyes of the people.

OF THE ISIASTER AS ABOVE. ^

Since, therefore, both divine and state laws
do not permit a faithful body and sanctified
minds to exhibit disgraceful though pleasing
spectacles, and to set forth vulgar means of en-
joyment, especially since an injury seems in
some degree to accrue to the chaste dedication
of one's self, in case any one who has been re-
newed by holy baptism should fall back upon
his old licentiousness, it behooves your Excel-
lency to show favor to good intentions, so that
he who, by the goodness of God, has entered on
a pious duty, should not be forced to sink into
the pitfall of the theatre. He does not, how-
ever, refuse compliance with the judgment of
you all, if you enjoin other fitting actions on his
part m behalf of the requirements of our com-
mon country.^

LETTER VI.

TO SALVIUS : A COMPLAINT THAT THE COUNTRY
PEOPLE WERE HARASSED, AND THEIR POSSES-
SIONS PLUNDERED.

Forensic excitement ought to be at full heat
during the time of business in the law-courts ; for
it is fitting that the arms of industry, as it strug-
gles daily, should display energetic movements.
But when loud-toned eloquence has sounded
a retreat, and has retired to peaceful groves
and pleasant dwelling-places, it is right that one
lay aside idle murmurs, and cease to utter
ineffectual threats. For we know that palm-
bearing steeds, when they have retired from the
circus, rest with the utmost quietness in their
stables. Neither constant fear nor doubtful
palms of victory distress them, but at length,
haltered to the peaceful cribs, they now no
longer stand in awe of the master urging them
on, enjoying sweet oblivion of the restless rivalry

^ " divinitatis accessu ": the context is almost unintelligible.

' This probably denotes that what follows is the substance of
the Master's petition.

* Clericus, while accepting most of the letters with which we are
now dealing, doubts, from the difference of style, whether this is
an epistle of Sulpitius. It is certainly very different from his usual
clearness and correctness.

which had prevailed. In like manner, let it
delight the boastful soldier after his term of ser-
vice is completed, to hang up his trophies, and
patiently to bear the burden of age.

But I do not quite understand why you should
take a delight in terrifying miserable husband-
men ; and I do not comprehend why you wish
to harass my rustics with the fear of want of
sustenance ; ^ as if, indeed, I did not know how
to console them, and to deliver them from fear,
and to show them that there is not so great a
reason to fear as you pretend. I confess that,
while we were occupied in the plain, I was often
frightened by the arms of your eloquence, but
frequently I returned you corresponding blows,
as far as I was able. I certainly learned along
with you, by what right, and in wliat order, the
husbandmen are demanded back, to whom a
legal process is competent, and to whom the
issue of a process is not competent. You say
that the Volusians wished you brought back, and
frequently, in your wrath, you repeat that you
will withdraw the country people from my little
keep ; and you, the very man, as I hope and
desire, bound to me by the ties of old rela-
tionship, now rashly threaten that, casting our
agreement to the winds, you will lay hold upon
my men. I ask of your illustrious knowledge,
whether there is one law for advocates, and an-
other for private persons, whether one thing is
just at Rome, and quite another thing at Mat-
arum.

In the meantime, I do not know that you
were ever lord of the Volusian property, since
Dionysius is said to have preserved the right of
possession to it, and he never wanted heirs ;
who, while he lived, was accustomed to hurl
the envenomed jibes of his low language upon
a multitude of individuals.- There was, at that
time, one Porphyrins, the son of Zibberinus, and
yet he was not properly named the son of Zib-
berinus. He kept hidden, by military service,
the question as to his birth, and, that he might
dispel the cloud from his forehead, he took
part in officious services and willing acts of
submission. He was much with me both at
home and in the forum, having often employed
me as his defender with my father, and as his
advocate before the judge. Sometimes I even
kept back Dionysius, feeling that he ought not,
for the sake of twenty acres to discharge vulgar
abuse upon Porphyrius.

See, here is the reason why thy remarkable
prudence threatened my agents, so that, though
you are not the owner of the place, you every-
where make mention of my husbandmen.
But if you give yourself out as the successor
of Porphyrius, you must know that the narrow

1 " exhibitionis formidine " — a strange phrase.

- The text is uncertain, and the meaning very obscure.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

space of twenty acres cannot certainly be man-
aged by one cultivator, or, if mindful of your
proper dignity and determined to maintain it,
you shrink from naming yourself the heir of
Porphyrins, it is certain and obvious that he can
commence proceedings,'' to whom the right of
doing so belongs, so as to go to law with those
who have no property in that land. But if you
diligently look into the matter, you will see that
the endeavor to recover it most especially de-
volves on me. AVherefore, my much esteemed
lord and brother, it behooves you to be at peace,
and to return to friendship with me, while you
condescend to come to a private conference.
Cease, I pray you, to disturb inactive and
easily frightened persons, and utter your boastful
words at a distance. Believe me, however, that
I am delighted with your high spirit, and by no
means offended ; for we are neither of a harsh

3 " posse proponere."

^ We thoroughly agree with Clericus that this letter is, in style,
more alien even than the preceding from the genuine epistles of
Sulpitiiis. It is barbarous as regards composition, and in several
places not intelligible.

disposition, nor destitute of learning. Let Max-
iminus at least render you gentle.'*

LETTER VII.

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON, BEGGING THE FAVOR
OF A LETTER.

The faith and piety of souls, no doubt, re-
main, but this should be made known by the
evidence of a letter, in order that an increase of
affection may be gained by such mutual cour-
tesy. For just as a fertile field cannot bring
forth abundant fruits, if its cultivation has been
neglected, and the good qualities of soil are lost
through the indolence of one who rests, instead
of working, so I think that the love and kindly
feelings of the mind grow feeble, unless those
who are absent are visited, as if present, by
means of a letter.^

^ Most editions add " Deo gratias, Amen."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

-oojacjoo-

BOOK I.

CHAPTER I.

I ADDRESS myself to give a condensed account
of those things which are set forth in the sacred
Scriptures from the beginning of the world,
and to tell of them, with distinction of dates,
and according to^ their importance, down to a
period within our own remembrance. Many
who were anxious to become acquainted with
divine things by means of a compendious treat-
ise, have eagerly entreated me to undertake this
work. I, seeking to carry out their wish, have
not spared my labor, and have thus succeeded
in comprising in two short books things which
elsewhere filled many volumes. At the same
time, in studying brevity, I have omitted hardly
any of the facts. Moreover, it seemed to me
not out of place that, after I had run through
the sacred history down to the crucifixion of
Christ, and the doings of the Apostles, I should
add an account of events which subsequently
took place. I am, therefore, to tell of the de-
struction of Jerusalem, the persecutions of the
Christian people, the times of peace which fol-
lowed, and of all things again thrown into con-
fusion by the intestine dangers of the churches.
But I will not shrink from confessing that, wher-
ever reason required, I have made use of pro-
fane historians to fix dates and preserve the
series of events unbroken, and have taken out
of these what was wanting to a complete knowl-
edge of the facts, that I might both instruct the
ignorant and carry conviction to the learned.
Nevertheless, as to those things which I have
condensed from the sacred books, I do not wish
so to present myself as an author to my readers,
that they, neglecting the source from which my
materials have been derived, should be satisfied
with what I have written. My aim is that one
who is already familiar with the original should
recognize here what he has read there ; for all
the mysteries of divine things cannot be brought
out except from the fountain-head itself. I
shall now enter upon my narrative.

^ " carptim " : such seems to be the meaning of the word here,
as Sigonitis has noted. His words are " Carptim — profecto innuit
se non singulas res eodem modo persecuturum, sed quae memoratu
digniores visse fuerint, selecturum."

CHAPTER H.

The world was created by God nearly six^
thousand years ago, as we shall set forth in the
course of this book ; although those who have
entered upon and published a calculation of the
dates, but little agree among themselves. As,
however, this disagreement is due either to the
will of God or to the fault of antiquity, it ought
not to be a matter of censure. After the forma-
tion of the world man was created, the male
being named Adam, and the female Eve. Hav-
ing been placed in Paradise, they ate of the tree
from which they were interdicted, and therefore
were cast forth as exiles into our earth. ^ To
them were born Cain and Abel ; but Cain, being
an impious man, slew his brother. He had a
son called Enoch, by whom a city was first
built,' and was called after the name of its
founder. From him Irad, and from him again
Maiiiahel was descended. He had a son called
Mathusalam, and he, in turn, begat Lamech, by
whom a young man is said to have been slain,
without, however, the name of the slain man
being mentioned — a fact which is thought by the
wise to have presaged a future mystery. Adam,
then, after the death of his younger son, begat
another son called Seth, when he was now two
hundred and thirty years old : he lived alto-
gether eight hundred and thirty years. Seth
begat Enos, Enos Cainan, Cainan Malaleel, Ma-
laleel Jared, and Jared Enoch, who on account
of his righteousness is said to have been trans-
lated by God. His son was called Mathusalam
who begat Lamech ; from whom Noah was de-
scended, remarkable for his righteousness, and
above all other mortals dear and acceptable to
God. When by this time the human race had
increased to a great multitude, certain angels,
whose habitation was in heaven, were captivated
by the appearance of some beautiful virgins, and
cherished illicit desires after them, so much so,
that falling beneath their own proper nature and
origin, they left the higher regions of which they

' Sulpitius follows the Greek version, which ascribes many more
years to the fathers of mankind than does the original Hebrew.

- Many of the ancients (among whom our author is apparently
to be reckoned) believed that Paradise was situated outside our
world altogether.

3 An obvious mistake. The first city was built, not by Enoch,
but by Cain. Gen. iv. 17.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

were inhabitants, and allied themselves in earthly
marriages. These angels gradually spreading
wicked habits, corrupted the human family, and
from their alliance giants are said to have
sprung, for the mixture with them of beings of
a different nature, as a matter of course, gave
birth to monsters.

CHAPTER III.

God being offended by these things, and es-
pecially by the wickedness of mankind, which
had gone beyond measure, had determined to
destroy the whole human race. But he ex-
empted Noah, a righteous man and of blameless
life, from the destined doom. He being warned
by God that a flood was coming upon the earth,
built an ark of wood of immense size, and
covered it with pitch so as to render it im-
pervious to water. He was shut into it along
with his wife, and his three sons and his three
daughters-in-law. Pairs oi birds also and of
the different kinds of beasts were likewise re-
ceived into it, while all the rest were cut off by a
flood. Noah then, when he understood that the
violence of the rain had ceased, and that the
ark was quietly floating on the deep, thinking
(as really was the case) that the waters were
decreasing, sent forth first a raven for the pur-
pose of enquiring into the matter, and on its
not returning, having settled, as I conjecture, on
the dead bodies, he then sent forth a dove.
It, not finding a place of rest, returned to him,
and being again sent out, it brought back an
olive leaf, in manifest proof that the tops of the
trees were now to be seen. Then being sent
forth a third time, it returned no more, from
which it was understood that the waters had
subsiiled ; and Noah accordingly went out from
the ark. This was done, as I reckon, two thou-
sand two hundred ^ and forty-two years after
the beginning of the world.

CHAPTER IV.

Them Noah first of all erected an altar to
God, and offered sacrifices from among the
birds.' Immediately afterwards he was blessed
by God along with his sons, and received a
command that he should not eat blood, or shed
the blood of any human being, because Cain,
having no such precept, had stained the first
age of the world. Accordingly, the sons of
Noah were alone left in the then vacant world ;
for he had three, Shem, Ham, and Japhet. But
Ham, because he had mocked his father when

1 After the LXX, as usual.

^ Not of l'!r<is only, but other animals also. Gen. viii. 20.

senseless with wine, incurred his father's curse.
His son, Chas by name, begat the giant Neb-
roth,^ by whom the city of Babylon is said to
have been built. Many other towns are related
to have been founded at that time, which I do
not here intend to name one by one. put
although the human race was now multiplied,
and men occupied different places and islands,
nevertheless all made use of one tongue, as long
as the multitude, afterwards to be scattered
through the wliole world, kept itself in one
body. These, after the manner of human na-
ture, formed the design of obtaining a great
name by constructing some great work before
they should be separated from one another.
They therefore attempted to build a tower
which should reach up to heaven. But bj' the
ordination of God, in order that the labors of
those engaged in the work might be hindered,
they began to speak in a kind of langiiages very
different from their accustomed form of speech,
while no one understood the others. This led
to their being all the more readily dispersed,
because, regarding each other as foreigners, they
were easily induced to separate. And the world
was so divided to the sons of Noah, that Shem
occupied the East, Japhet the West, and Ham
the intermediate parts. After this, till the time
of Abraham,'' their genealogy presented nothing
very remarkable or worthy of record.

CHAPTER V.

ABrLA.HAM, whose fother was Thara, was born in
the one thousand and seventeenth year after the
deluge. His wife was called Sara, and his dwel-
ling-place was at first in the country ^ of the Chal-
dreans. He then dwelt along with his father at
Charrae. Being at this time spoken to by God,
he left his country and his father, and taking
with him Lot, the son of his brother, he came
into the country of the Canaanites, and settled
at a place named Sychem. Ere long, owing to
the want of corn, he went into Egypt, and again
returned. Lot, owing to the size of the house-
hold, parted from his uncle, that he might take
advantage of more spacious territories in what
was then a vacant region, and settled at Sodom.
That town was infamous on account of its in-
habitants, males forcing themselves upon males,
and it is said on that account to have been hate-
ful to God. At that period the kings of the
neighboring peoples were in arms, though pre-
viously there had been no- war among man-

- This is the Afi'iiirmi of ihc A. V.; he is called Nchrod by the
I,XX. We have, for the most part, given the proper names as they
appear in the edition of Halm.

^ Such is the form of the name as given by Halm, though Abratn
would be expected.

> The I>XX has x<^P<?. instead of Ur.

- A most improbable statement.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

kind. But the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah
and of the adjacent territories went forth to
battle against those who were making war upon
the regions round about, and being routed at
the first onset, yielded the victory to the oppo-
site side. Then Sodom was plundered and
made a spoil of by the victorious enemy, while
Lot Nvas led into captivity, ^^'hen Abraham
heard of this, he speedily armed his servants, to
the number of three hundred and eighteen, and,
strijjping of their spoils and arms the kings
flushed with victory, he put them to flight.
Then he was blessed by Melchisedech the priest,
and gave him tithes of the spoil. He restored
the remainder to those from whom it had been
taken.

CHAPTER VI.

At the same time God spoke to Abraham,
and promised that his seed was to be multiplied
as the sand of the sea ; and that his predicted
seed would live in a land not his own, while his
posterity would endure slavery in a hostile
country for four hundred years, but would after-
wards be restored to liberty. Then his name
was changed, as well as that of his wife, by the
addition of one letter ; so that instead of Abram '
he was called Abraham, and, instead of Sara,
she was called Sarra. The mystery involved in
this is by no means trifling, but it is not the part
of this w^ork to treat of it. At the same time,
the law of circumcision was enjoined on Abra-
ham, and he had by a maid-servant a son called
Ishmael. Moreover, when he himself was a
hundred years old, and his wife ninety, God
promised that they should have a son Isaac, the
Lord having come to him along with two angels.
Then the angels being sent to Sodom, found Lot
sitting in the gate of the city. He supposed
them to be human beings, and welcomed them
to share in his hospitality, and provided an en-
tertainment for them in his house, but the wicked
youth of the town demanded the new arrivals
for impure purposes. Lot offered them his
daughters in place of his guests, but they did
not accept the offer, having a desire rather for
things forbidden, and then Lot himself was laid
hold of with vile designs. The angels, however,
speedily rescued him from danger, by causing
blindness to fi,\ll upon the eyes of these unchaste
sinners. Then Lot, being informed by his guests
that the town was to be destroyed, w-ent away
from it with his wife and daughters ; but they
were commanded not to look back upon it.
His wife, however, not obeying this precept (in
accordance with that evil tendency of human
nature which renders it difficult to abstain from

1 In the Greek of the LXX. the name appears as Abraant, so
that, as our author says, there is only a change of one letter.

things forbidden), turned back her eyes, and is
said to have been at once chanszed into a monu-
ment. As for Sodom, it was burned to ashes
by fire from heaven. And the daughters of
Lot, imagining that the whole human race had
perished, sought a union with their father while
he was intoxicated, and hence sprung the race
of Moab and Ammon.

CHAPTER VII.

Almost at the same time, when Abraham was
now a hundred years old, his son Isaac was born.
Then Sara expelled the maid-servant by whom
Abraham had had a son ; and she is said to
have dwelt in the desert along with her son, and
defended by the help of God. Not long after
this, God tried the faith of Abraham, and required
that his son Isaac should be sacrificed to him
by his father. Abraham did not hesitate to
offer him, and had already laid the lad upon
the altar, and was drawing the sword to slay
him, when a voice came from heaven command-
ing him to spare the young man ; and a ram
was found at hand to be for a victim. When
the sacrifice was offered, God spoke to Abraham,
and promised him those things which he had
already said he would bestow. But Sara died
in her one hundred and twenty-seventh year,
and her body was, through the care of her hus-
band, buried in Hebron, a town of the Canaanites,
for Abraham was staying in that place. Then
Abraham, seeing that his son Isaac was now of
youthful ^ age, for he was, in fact, in his fortieth
year, enjoined his servant to seek a wife for
him, but only from that tribe and territory from
which he hims,elf was known to be descended.
He was instructed, however, on finding the girl,
to bring her into the land of the Canaanites, and
not to suppose that Isaac would return into the
country of his father for the purpose of obtaining
a wife. In order that the servant might carry
out those instructions zealously, Abraham ad-
ministered an oath to him, while his hand rested
on the thigh of his master. The servant accord- .
ingly set out for Mesopotamia, and came to the
town of Nachor, the brother of Abraham. He
entered into the house of Bathuel, the Syrian,
son of Nachor ; and having seen Rebecca, a
beautiful virgin, the daughter of Nachor, he
asked for her, and brought her to his master.
After this, Abraham took a wife named Kethurah,
who is called in the Chronicles his concubine,
and begat children by her. But he left his
possessions to Isaac, the son of Sara, while, at
the same time, he distributed gifts to those
whom he had begotten by his concubines ; and
thus they were separated from Isaac. Abraham

1 "juvenilis jetatis ": the meaning is that he had ceased to he a
mere adolescens, and had reached she flower of his age.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

died after a life of a hundred and seventy-five
years ; and his body was laid in the tomb of
Sara his wife.

CHAPTER VIII.

Now, Rebecca, having long been barren, at
length, through the unceasing prayers of her
husband to the Lord, brought forth twins about
twenty years after the time of her marriage.
These are said to have often leaped ^ in the
womb of their mother ; and it was announced
by the answer of the Lord on this subject, that
two peoples were foretold in these children, and
that the elder would, in rank, be inferior to the
younger. Well, the first that was born, bristling
over with hair, was called Esau, while Jacob was
the name given to the younger. At that time, a
grievous famine had taken place. Under the
pressure of this necessity, Isaac went to Gerar,
to King Abimelech, having been warned by the
Lord not to go down into Egypt. There he is
promised the possession of the whole land, and
is blessed, and having been greatly increased
in cattle and every kind of substance, he is,
under the influence of envy, driven out by the
inhabitants. Thus expelled from that region, he
sojourned by the well, known as " the well - of
the oath." By and by, being advanced in years,
and his eyesight being gone, as he made ready
to bless his son Esau, Jacob through the coun-
sel of his mother, Rebecca, presented himself
to be blessed in the place of his brother. Thus
Jacob is set before his brother as the one to be
honored by the princes and the peoples. Esau,
enraged by these occurrences, plqtted the death
of his brother. Jacob, owing to the fear thus
excited, and by the advice of his mother, fled
into Mesopotamia, having been urged by his
father to take a wife of the house of Laban,
Rebecca's brother : so great was their care,
while they dwelt in a strange country, that their
children should marry within their own kindred.
Thus Jacob, setting out for Mesopotamia, is said
in sleep to have had a vision of the Lord ; and
on that account regarding the place of his dream
as sacred, he took a stone from it ; and he
vowed that, if he returned in prosperity, the
name ^ of the pillar should be the " house of the
Lord," and that he would devote to God the
tithes of all the possessions he had gained.
Then he betook himself to Laban, his mother's
brother, and was kindly received by him to
share in his hospitality as the acknowledged son
of his sister.

1 So in LXX.

2 This is the meaning of the Hebrew word, Brershtba.

3 " Titulum sibi domus Dei futurum": the rendering of the
Hebrew original is here obviously faulty, and the words, as they
stand, are scarcely intelligible.

CHAPTER IX.

Laean had two daughters, Leah and Rachel ;
but Leah had tender eyes, while Rachel is said
to have been beautiful. Jacob, captivated by
her beauty, burned with love for the virgin, and,
asking her in marriage from the father, gave
himself up to a servitude of seven years. But
when the time was fulfilled, Leah was foisted
upon him, and he was subjected to another
servitude of seven years, after which Rachel was
given him. But we are told that she was long
barren, while Leah was fruitful. Of the sons
whom Jacob had by Leah, the following are the
names : Reuben, Symeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar,
Zebulon, and a daughter Dinah ; while there
wTre born to him by the handmaid of Leah,
Gad and Asher, and by the handmaid of Rachel,
Dan and Naphtali. But Rachel, after she had
despaired of offspring, bare Joseph. Then
Jacob, being desirous of returning to his father,
when Laban his father-in-law had given him a
portion of the flock as a reward for his service, and
Jacob the son-in-law, thinking him not to be act-
ing justly in that matter, while he [also] suspected
deceit on his part, privately departed about the
thirtieth year after his arrival. Rachel, without
the knowledge of her husband, stole the idols ' of
her father, and on account of this injury Laban
followed his son-in-law, but not finding his idols,
returned, after being reconciled, having straitly
charged his son-in-law not to take other wives
in addition to his daughters. Then Jacob, going
on his way, is said to have had a vision of angels
and of the army- of the Lord. But, as he
directed his journey past the region of Edom,
which his brother Esau inhabited, suspecting
the temper of Esau, he first sent messengers and
gifts to try him. Then he went to meet his
brother, but Jacob took care not to trust him
beyond what he could help. On the day before
the brothers were to meet, God, taking a human
form, is said to have wrestled witli Jacob. And
when he had prevailed with God, still he was
not ignorant that his adversary was no mere
mortal ; and therefore begged to be blessed by
him. Then his name was changed by God, so
that from Jacob he was called Israel. But
when he, in turn, inquired of God the name of
God, he was tokl that that should not be asked
after because it was wonderful.^ Moreover, from
that wrestling, the breadth^ of Jacob's thigh
shrank.

1 elSwAa is the Septiiagint rendering of the Hebrew Tt-raphim.
Perhaps the original word should simply be translilcrated into
English as has been done in the Revised Version.

- The rendering of the LXX.

3 " Admirabile."

■• "Latitudo": Vorstius says this refers to the broad bone, or
broad nerve of the thigh.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER X.

ISR.A.EL, therefore, avoiding the house of his
brother, sent forward his company to Salem, a
town of the Shechemites, and there he i)itched
his tent on a spot which he had purchased.
Emor, a Chorraean prince, was the ruler of that
town. His son Sychem defiled Dinah, the
daughter of Jacob by Leah. Symeon and Levi,
the brothers of Dinah, discovering this, cut off
by a stratagem all those of the male sex in the
town, and thus terribly avenged the injury done
to their sister. The town was plundered by the
sons of Jacob, and all the spoil carried off.
Jacob is said to have been much displeased with
these proceedings. Soon after being instructed
by God, he went to Bethel, and there erected
an altar to God. Then he fixed his tent in a
part of the territory belonging to the tower ^
Gader. Rachel died in childbirth : the boy
she bore was called Benjamin. Israel died at
the age of one hundred and eighty years. Now,
Esau was mighty in wealth, and had taken to
himself wives of the nation of the Canaanites.
I do not think that, in a work so concise as the
present, I am called upon to mention his de-
scendants, and, if any one is curious on the
subject, he may turn to the original. After the
death of his father, Jacob stayed on in the place
where Isaac had lived. His other sons occa-
sionally left him along with the flocks, for the
sake of pasturage, but Joseph and the little
Benjamin remained at home. Joseph was much
beloved by his father, and on that account was
hated by his brethren. There was this further
cause for their aversion, that by frequent dreams
of his it seemed to be indicated that he would
be greater than all of them. Accordingly,
having been sent by his father to inspect the
flocks and pay a visit to his brothers, there
seemed to them a fitting opportunity for doing
him harm. For, on seeing their brother, they
took counsel to slay him. But Reuben, whose
mind shuddered at the contemplation of such a
crime, opposing their plan, Joseph was let down
into a well.^ Afterwards, by the persuasion* of
Judah, they were brought to milder measures,
and sold him to merchants, who were on their
way to Egypt. And by them he was delivered
to Petifra, a governor of Pharaoh.

CHAPTER XL

About this same time, Judah, the son of Ja-
cob, took in marriage Sava,^ a woman of Canaan.
By her he had three sons, — Her, Onan, and

1 "In parte turris Gadir": this is a strange rendering of the
Hebrew. The LXX has "beyond the tower Gader"; while the
Revised English Version has " beyond the tower of Eder."

^ " Lacum."

» Called Shuah in A. V.

Sela. Her was allied by concubinage ^ to
Thamar. On his death, Onan took his brother's
wife ; and he is related to have been destroyed
by God, because he spilled his seed upon the
earth. Then Thamar, assuming the garb of a
harlot, united with her brother-in-law, and bore
him two sons. But when she brought them
forth, there was this remarkable fact, that, when
on one of the boys being born, the midwife had
bound his hand with a scarlet thread to indicate
which of them was born first, he, drawing bark
again into the womb of his mother, was born •'
the last boy of the two. The names of Fares
and Zarah were given to the children. But
Joseph, being kindly treated by the royal gov-
ernor who had obtained him for a sum of money,
and having been made manager of his house
and family, had drawn the eyes of his master's
wife upon himself through his remarkable beauty.
And as she was madly laboring under that base
passion, she made advances to him oftener than
once, and when he would not yield to her desires,
she disgraced him by the imputation of a false
crime, and complained to her husband that he
had made an attempt upon her virtue. Accord-
ingly, Joseph was thrown into prison. There
were ia the same place of confinement two of
the king's servants, who made known their
dreams to Joseph, and he, interpreting these as
bearing upon the future, declared that one of
them would be put to death, and the other would
be pardoned. And so it came to pass. Well,
after the lapse of two years, the king also had a
dream. And when this could not be explained
by the wise men among the Egyptians, that
servant of the king who was liberated from
prison informs the king that Joseph was a won-
derful interpreter of dreams. Accordingly,
Joseph was brought out of prison, and interpreted
to the king his dream, to this effect, that, for
the next seven years, there would be the greatest
fertility in the land ; but in those that followed,
famine. The king being alarmed by this terror,
and seeing that there was a divine spirit in
Joseph, set him over the department of food-
supply, and made him equal with himself in the
government. Then Joseph, while corn was
abundant throughout all Egypt, gathered to-
gether an immense quantity, and, by increasing
the number of granaries, took measures against
the future famine. At that time, the hope and
safety of Egypt were placed in him alone. About
the same period, Aseneh bore him two sons,
Manasseh and Ephraim. He himself, when he
received the chief power from the king, was
thirty years old ; for he was sold by his brothers
when he was seventeen years of age.

2 Or perhaps, ratlier, marriage of a sort, as appears from what
follows.

^ A different reading gives, " was born on the following day."

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER XII.

In the mean time, affairs having been well
settled in Egypt to meet the famine, a grievous
want of corn began to distress the world. Jacob,
constrained by this necessity, sent his sons jnto
Egypt, keeping only Benjamin with himself at
home. Joseph, then, being at the head of
affairs, and having complete power over the
corn-supplies, his brothers come to him, and
pay the same honor to him as to a king. He,
when he saw them,' craftily concealed his recog-
nition of them, and accused them of having
come as enemies, subtly to spy out the land.
But he was annoyed that he did not see among
them his brother Benjamin. Matters, then, are
brought to this point, that they promised he
should be present, specially that he might be
asked whether they had entered Egypt for the
purpose of spying out the land. In order to
secure the fulfillment of this promise, Symeon
was retained as hostage, while to them corn was
given freely. Accordingly, they returned, bring-
ing Benjamin with them as had been arranged.
Then Joseph made himself known to his brothers,
to the shame of these evil-deservers. Thus, he
sent them home again, laden with corn, and
presented with many gifts, forewarning them
that there were still five years of famine to come,
and advising them to come down with their
father, their children, and their whole connec-
tions to Egypt. So Jacob went down to Egypt,
to the great joy of the Egyptians and of the
king himself, while he was tenderly welcomed
by his son. That took place in the hundred
and thirtieth year of the life of Jacob, and one
thousand three hundred and sixty years ^ after
the deluge. But from the time when Abraham
settled in the land of the Canaanites, to that
when Jacob entered Egypt, there are to be
reckoned two hundred and fifteen years. After
this, Jacob, in the seventeenth year of his resi-
dence in Egypt, suffering severely from ' illness,
entreated Joseph to see his remains placed in
the toml). Then Joseph presented his sons to
be blessed ; - and when this had been done, but
so that he set the younger before the elder as to
the value of the blessing given, Jacob then blessed
all his sons in order. He died at the age of
one hundred and forty-seven years. His funeral
was of a most imposing character, and Joseph
laid his remains in the tomb of his fathers. He
continued to treat his brothers with kindness,
although, after the death of their father, they
felt alarmed from a consciousness of the wrong
they had done. Joseph himself died in his one
hundred and tenth year.

1 The chronology of the LXX is, as usual, here followed.

^ The original is, " quibus bencdictis, cum tamen benedictionis
merito majori minorem prxposuisset, filios omnes benedictione lus-
travit."

CHAPTER XIII.

It is almost incredible to relate how the He-
brews who had come down into Egypt so soon
increased in numbers, and filled Egypt with
their numerous descendants. But on the death
of the king, who kindly cherished them on
account of the services of Joseph, they were
kept down by the government of the succeeding
kings. For both the heavy labor of building
cities was laid upon them, and because their
abounding numbers were now feared, lest some
day they should secure their independence by
arms, they were compelled by a royal edict to
drown their newly-born male children. And no
permission was granted to evade this cruel order.
Well, at that time, the daughter of Pharaoh
found an infant in the river, and caused it to be
brought up as her own son, giving the boy the
name of Moses. This Moses, when he had come
to manhood, saw a Hebrew being assaulted by
an Egyptian ; and, filled with- sorrow at the
sight, he delivered his brother from injury, and
killed the Egyptian with a stone. Soon after,
fearing punishment on account of what he had
done, he fled into the land of Midian, and,
taking up his abode with Jothor the priest of
that district, he received his daughter Sepphora
in marriage, who bore him two sons, Gersam
and Eliezer. At this epoch lived Job, who had
acquired both the knowledge of God and all
righteousness simply from the law ^ of nature.
He was exceedingly rich, and on that account
all the more illustrious, because he was neither
corrupted by that wealth while it remained entire,
nor perverted by it when it was lost. For,
when, through the agency of the devil, he was
stripped of his goods, deprived of his children,
and finally covered in his own person with ter-
rible boils, he could not be broken down, so as,
from impatience of his sufferings, in any way, to
commit sin. At length he obtained the reward
of the divine approval, and being restored to
health, he got back doubled all that he had lost.

CHAPTER XIV.

But the Hebrews, oppressed by the multiplied
evils of slavery, directed their complaints to
heaven, and cherished the hope of assistance
from God. Then, as Moses was feeding his
sheep, suddenly a bush appeared to liim burning,
l)ut, what was surprising, the flames did it no
harm. Astonished at such an extraordinary
sight, he drew nearer to the bush, and immedi-

1 This somewhat remarkable statement is supported by the text
of Halm, who reads, " lege naturx." But other editions have
" legem n.ltura;," and the meaning will then be " who had learned
the law of nature, and the knowledge of God," &c.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

ately (iod spoke to him in words to this effect,
that he was the Lord of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, and that he desired that their descendants,
who were kept down under the tyranny of the
Egyptians, should be dehvered from their suffer-
ings, and that he, therefore, should go to the
king of Egypt, and present himself as a leader
for restoring them to liberty. When he hesitated,
God strengthened him with power, and imparted
to him the gift of working miracles. Thus
Moses, going into Egypt, after he had first
performed miracles in the presence of his own
people, and having associated his brother Aaron
with him, went to the king, declaring that he had
been sent by God, and that he now told him in
the words of God to let the Hebrew people go.
But the king, affirming that he did not know
the Lord, refused to obey the command ad-
dressed to him. And when Moses, in proof that
the orders he issued were from God, changed
his rod into a serpent,^ and soon after converted
all the water into blood, while he filled the
whole land with frogs, as the Chaldreans were
doing similar things, the king declared that the
wonders performed by Moses were simply due
to the arts of magic, and not to the power of
God, until the land was covered with stinging
insects brought over it, when the Chaldseans
confessed that this was done by the divine
majesty. Then the king, constrained by his
sufferings, called to him Moses and Aaron, and
gave the people liberty to depart, provided that
the calamity brought upon the kingdom were
removed. But, after the suffering was put an
end to, his mind, having no control over itself,
returned to its former state, and did not allow
the Israelites to depart, as had been agreed
upon. Finally, however, he was broken down
and conquered by the ten plagues which were
sent upon his person and his kingdom.

CHAPTER XV.

But on the day ^ before the people went out
of Egypt, being as yet unacquainted with dates,
they were instructed by the command of God
to acknowledge that month which was then
passing by as the first of all months ; and were
told that the sacrifice of the day was to be
solemnly and regularly offered in coming ages,
so that, on the fourteenth day of the month, a
lamb without blemish, one year old, should be
slain as a victim, and that the door-posts should
be sprinkled with its blood ; that its flesh was
wholly to be eaten, but not a bone of it was to
be broken ; that they should abstain from what
was leavened for seven days, using only un-

1 " Draconem."

^ Such is Halm's reading; another is simply " before."

leavened bread ; and that they should hand
down the observance to their posterity. 'I'hus
the people went forth rich, both by their own
wealth, and still more by the spoils of Egypt.
Their number had grown from those seventy-
five ^ Hebrews, who had first gone down into
Egypt, to six hundred thousand men. Now,
there had elapsed from the time when Abraham
first reached the land of the Canaanites a period
of four hundred and thirty years, but from the
deluge a period of five hundred and seventy-
five^ years. Well, as they went forth in haste,
a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by
night, marched before thein. But since, owing
to the fact that the gulf of the Red Sea lay
between, the way led by'' the land of the Phihs-
tines, in order that an opportunity might not
afterwards be offered to the Hebrews, shrinking
from the desert, of returning into Egyj^t by a
well-known road through a continuous land-
journey, by the command of God they turned
aside, and journeyed towards the Red Sea,
where they stopped and pitched their camp.
When it was announced to the king that the
Hebrew people, through mistaking the road,
had come to have the sea right before them,
and that they had no means of escape since the
deep would prevent them, vexed and furious
that so many thousand men should escape from
his kingdom and power, he hastily led forth his
army. And already the arms, and standards,
and the lines drawn up in the widespreading plains
were visible, when, as the Hebrews were in a
state of terror, and gazing up to heaven, Moses
being so instructed by God, struck the sea with
his rod, and divided it. Thus a road was
opened to the people as on firm land, the waters
giving way on both sides. Nor did the king of
Egypt hesitate to follow the Israelites going
forward, for he entered the sea where it had
opened ; and, as the waters speedily came
together again, he, with all his host, was de-
stroyed.

CHAPTER XVI.

Then Moses, exulting in the safety of his own
people, and in the destruction of the enemy, by
such a miracle,^ sang a song of praise to God,
and the whole multitude, both of males and
females, took part in it. But, after they had
entered the desert, and advanced a journey of
three days, want of water distressed them ; and,
when it was found, it proved of no use on

- The Hebrew text has " seventy," but our author, as usual,
follows the LXX.

^ Again after the LXX.

* The text here is uncertain and obscure.

' " Virtute."

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

account of its bitterness. And then for the first
time the stubbornness of the impatient people
showed itself, and burst forth against Moses ;
when, as instructed by God, he cast some wood
into the waters, and its power was such that it
rendered the taste of the fluid sweet. Thence
advancing, the multitude found at Elim twelve
fountains of waters, with seventy palm-trees, and
there they encamped. Again the people, com-
plaining of famine, heaped reproaches upon
Moses, and longed for the slavery of Egypt,
accompanied as it was with abundance to please
their appetite, when a flock of quails was di-
vinely sent, and filled the camp. Besides, on
the following day, those who had gone forth
from the camp perceived that the ground was
covered with a sort of pods,- the appearance of
which was like a coriander-seed of snowy white-
ness, as we often see the earth in the winter
months covered with the hoar-frost that has
been spread over it. Then the people were
informed, through Moses, that this bread had
been sent them by the gift -of God; that every
one should gather in vessels prepared for the
purpose only so much of it as would be sufficient
for each, according to their number, during one
day ; but that on the sixth day they should
gather double, because it was not lawful to
collect it on the Sabbath. The people, however,
as they were never prone to obedience, did not,
in accordance with human nature, restrain their
desires, providing in their stores not merely for
one, but also for the following day. But that
which was thus laid up swarmed with worms,
while its fetid odor was dreadful, yet that which
was laid up on the sixth day with a view to the
Sabbath remained quite untainted. The He-
brews made use of this food for forty years ; its
taste was very like that of honey ; and its name
is handed down as being manna. Moreover,
as an abiding witness to the divine gift, Moses
is related to have laid up a full gomer of it in a
golden vessel.

CHAPTER XV-II.

The people going on from thence, and being
again tried with want of water, hardly restrained
themselves from destroying their leader. Then
Moses, under divine orders, striking with his
rod the rock at the place which is called Horeb,
brought forth an abundant sup]')ly of water.
But when they came to Raphidin, the Amalekites
destroyed numbers of the people by their
attacks. Moses, leading out his men to battle,
placed Joshua at the head of the army ; and, in

2 This is a somewhat strange description of the manna. Horniiis
remarks upon it that there may be a reference to the dew in \vhii:h
the Hebrews believed the manna to have been enveloped, but that
seems a far-fetched explanation.

company with Aaron and Hur, was himself simply
to be a spectator of the fight, while, at the same
time, for the purpose of praying to the Lord, he
went up to the top of a mountain. But when
the armies had met with doubtful issue, through
the prayers of Moses, Joshua slew the enemy
until nightfall. At the same time, Jothor, Moses'
father-in-law, with his daughter Sepphora (who,
having been married to Moses, had remained at
home when her husband went into Egypt), and
his children, having learned the things which
were being done by Moses, came to him. By
his advice Moses divided the people into various
ranks ; and, setting tribunes, centurions, and
decurions ^ over them, thus furnished a mode of
discipline and order to posterity. Jothor then
returned to his own country, while the Israelites
came on to Mount Sinai. There Moses was
admonished by the Eord that the people should
be sanctified, since thev were to hearken to the
words of God ; and that was carefully seen to.
But when God rested on the mountain, the air
was shaken with the loud sounds of trumpets,
and thick clouds rolled around with frequent
flashes of lightning. But Moses and Aaron were
on the top of the mountain beside the Lord,
while the ])eople stood around the bottom of
the mountain. Thus a law was given, manifold
and full of the words of God, and frequently
repeated ; but if any one is desirous of knowing
particulars regarding it, he must consult the
original, as we here only briefly touch upon
it. "There shall not be," said God, "any
strange gods among you, but ye shall worship
me alone ; thou shalt not make to thee any idol ;
thou shalt not take the name of thy God in vain ;
thou shalt do no work upon the Sabbath ; honor
thy father and thy mother ; thou shalt not kill ;
thou shalt not commit adultery ; thou shalt not
steal ; thou shalt not bear false witness against
thy neighbor ; thou shalt not covet anything
belonging to thy neighbor."

CHAPTER XVIII.

Thesr things being said by God, while the
trumpets uttered their voices, the lamps blazed,
and smoke covered the mountain, the people
trembled from terror ; and begged of Moses
that God should speak to him alone, and that
he would report to the people what he thus
heard. Now, the commandments of God to
Moses were as follows : A Hebrew servant pur-
chased with money shall serve six years, and
after that he shall be free ; but his ear shall be
bored, should he willingly remain in slavery.
Whosoever slays a man shall be put to death ;

• These words denote what is expressed in the Greek, " rulers of
thousands, of hundreds, and of tens."

THE SACRED

HISTORY

OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

he who does so unwittingly shall in due form be
banished. Whosoever shall beat his fother or
his mother, and utter evil sayings against them,
shall suffer death. If any one sell a Hebrew
who has been stolen, he shall be put to death.
If any one strike his own man-servant or maid-
servant, and he or she die of the blow, he shall be
put on his trial for doing so. If any one cause a
woman ^ to miscarry, he shall be put to death. If
any one knock out the eye or the tooth of his
servant, that servant shall receive his liberty in due
form. If a bull kill a man, it shall be stoned ; and
if its master, knowing the vicious temper of the
animal, did not take precautions in connection
with it, he also shall be stoned, or shall redeem
himself by a price as large as the accuser shall
demand. If a bull kill a servant, money to the
amount of thirty double- drachmas shall be paid
to his master. If any one does not cover up a
pit which has been dug, and an animal fall into
that pit, he shall pay the price of the animal to
its master. If a bull kill the bull of another
man, the animal shall be sold, and the two
masters shall share the price ; they shall also
divide the animal that has been killed. But if
a master, knowing the vicious temper of the
bull, did not tike precautions in connection
with it, he shall give up the bull. If any one
steals a calf, he shall restore five ; if he steals a
sheep, the penalty shall be fourfold ; and if the
animals be found alive in the hands of him who
drove them off, he shall restore double. It
shall be lawful to kill a thief by night, but not
one by day. If the cattle of any one has eaten
up the corn of another, the master of the cattle
shall restore what has been destroyed. If a
deposit disappears, he, in whose hands it was
deposited, shall swear that he has not been
guilty of any deceit. A thief who is caught
shall pay double. An animal given in trust, if
devoured by a wild beast, shall not be made
good. If any one defile a virgin not yet be-
trothed, he shall bestow a dowry on the girl,
and thus take her to wife ; but, if the father of
the girl shall refuse to give her in marriage, then
the ravisher shall give her a dowry. If any one
shall join himself to a beast, he shall be put to
death. Let him who sacrifices to idols perish.
The widow and orphan are not to be oppressed ;
the poor debtor is not to be hardly treated, nor
is usury to be demanded : the garment of the
poor is not to be taken as a pledge. A ruler of
the people is not to be evil spoken of. All the
first-born are to be offered to God. Flesh
taken from a wild beast is not to be eaten.
Agreements to bear false witness, or for any evil
purpose, are not to be made. Thou shalt not
pass by any animal of thine enemy which has

strayed, but shalt bring it back. If you find an
animal of your enemy fallen down under a
burden, it will be your duty to raise it up. Thou
shalt not slay the innocent and the righteous.
Thou shalt not justify the wicked for rewards.
Gifts a,re not to be accepted. A stranger is to
be kindly treated. Work is to be done on six.
days : rest is to be taken on the Sabbath. The
crops of the seventh year are not to be reaped,
but are to be left for the poor and needy.

CHAPTER XIX.

Moses reported these words of God to the
people, and placed an altar of twelve stones at
the foot of the mountain. Then he again as-
cended the mountain on which the Lord had
taken his place, bringing with him Aaron, Nabad,
and seventy of the elders. But these were not
able to look upon the Lord ; nevertheless, they
saw the place ^ in which God stood, whose form
is related to have been wonderful, and his splen-
dor glorious. Now, Moses, having been called
by God, entered the inner cloud which had
gathered round about God, and is related to
have remained there forty days and forty nights.
During this time, he was taught in the words
of God about building the tabernacle and the
ark, and about the ritual of sacrifice — things
which I, as they were obviously told at great
length, have not thought proper to be in-
serted in such a concise work as the present.
But as Moses stayed away a long time, since he
spent forty days in the presence of the Lord,
the people, despairing of his return, compelled
Aaron to construct images. Then, out of metals
which had been melted together, there came
forth the head of a calf. The people, unmindful
of God, having offered sacrifices to this, and
given themselves up to eating and drinking,
God, looking upon these things, would in his
righteous indignation, have destroyed the wicked
people, had he not been entreated by Moses
not to do so. But Moses, on his return, bringing
down the two tables of stone which had been
written by the hand of God, and seeing the
people devoted to luxury and sacrilege, broke
the tables, thinking the nation unworthy of having
the law of the Lord delivered to them. He
then called around himself the Levites, who had
been assailed with many insults, and commanded
them to smite the people with drawn swords.
In this onset twenty-three thousand" men are
said to have been slain. Then Moses set up
the tabernacle outside the camp ; and, as often

* Some words seem to have been lost here.

1 The Hebrew text is here different.

2 Curiously enough, our author here reads, " twenty-three thou-
sand," in opposition alike to the Greek and Hebrew text, both ot

I which have " three thousand."

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

as he entered it, the pillar of cloud was obser\^ed
to stand before the door ; and God spoke, face
to face, with Moses. But when xMoses en-
treated that he might see the Lord in his pe-
culiar majesty, he was answered that the form
of God could not be seen by mortal eye;^ ; yet
it was allowed to see his back parts ; and the
tables which Moses had formerly broken were
constructed afresh. And Moses is reported,
during this conference with God, to have stayed
forty days with the Lord. Moreover, when he
descended from the mountain, bringing with
him the tables, his face shone with so great
brightness, that the people were not able to look
upon him. It was arranged, therefore, that
when he was to make known to them the com-
mands of God, he covered his face with a veil,
and thus spoke to the people in the words of
God. In this part of the history an account is
given ^ of the tabernacle, and the building of its
inner parts. Which having been finished, the
cloud descended from above, and so over-
shadowed the tabernacle that it prevented Moses
himself from entering. These are the principal
matters contained in the two books of Genesis
and Exodus.

CHAPTER XX.

Then follows the book of Leviticus, in which
the precepts bearing upon sacrifice are set forth ;
commandments also are added to the law
formerly given ; and almost the whole is full ■ of
instructions connected with the priests. If any
one wishes to become acquainted with these, he
will obtain fuller information from that source.
For we, keeping within the limits of the work
undertaken, touch upon the history only. The
tribe of Levi, then, being set apart for the priest-
hood, the rest of the tribes were numbered, and
were found to amount to six hundred and three
thousand five hundred persons.^ When, there-
fore, the people made use of the manna for
food, as we have related above, even amid so
many and so great kindnesses of God, showing
themselves, as ever, ungrateful, they longed after
the worthless viands to which they had been
accustomed in Egypt. Then the Lord brought
an enormous supply of (quails into the camp ;
and as they were eagerly tearing these to pieces,
as soon as their lips touched the flesh, they
perished. There was indeed on that day a great
destruction in the camp, so that twenty and
three thousand men are said to have died.
Thus the people were punished by the very food
which they desired. Thence the comi)any went
forward, and came to Faran ; and Moses was

3 Halm here reads " referetiir," but " refertur," another reading,
seem^ preferable.

' The text here varies : we have followed Halm.

instructed by the Lord that the land was now
near, the possession of which the Lord had
promised them. Spies, accordingly, having been
sent into it, they report that it was. a land blessed
with all abundance, but that the nations were
powerful, and the towns fortified with immense
walls. When this was made known to the people,
fear seized the minds of all ; and to such a pitch
of wickedness did they come, that, despising
the authority of Moses, they prepared to appoint
for themselves a leader, under whose guidance
they might return to Egypt. Then Joshua and
Caleb, who had been of the number of the spies,
rent their garments with tears, and implored the
people not to believe the spies relating such
terrors ; for that they themselves had been Avith
them, and had found nothing dreadful in that
country ; and that it behooved them to trust
the promises of God, that these enemies would
rather become their prey than prove their de-
struction. But that stiff-necked race, setting
themselves against every good advice, rushed
upon them to destroy them. And the Lord,
angry on account of these things, exposed a
part of the people to be slain by the enemy,
while the spies were slain for having excited
fear among the people.

CHAPTER XXL

There followed the revolt of those, who, with
Dathan and Abiron as leaders, endeavored to
set themselves up against Moses and Aaron ;
but the earth, opening, swallowed them alive.
And not long after, a revolt of the whole people
arose against Moses and Aaron, so that they
rushed into the tabernacle, which it was not
lawful for any but the priests to enter. Then
truly death mowed them down in heap's ; and
all would have perished in a moment, had not
the Lord, appeased by the prayers of Moses,
turned aside the disaster. Nevertheless, the
number of those slain amounted to seven hun-
dred and fourteen thousand.^ And not long
after, as had already often hajjpened, a revolt
of the people arose on account of the want of
water. Then Moses, instructed by God to strike
the rock with his rod, with a kind of trial now
familiar to him, since he had already done that
before, struck the rock once and again, and
thus water flowed out of it. In regard, however,
to this ])oint, Moses is said to have been reproved
by God, that, through want of faith, he did not
bring out the water except by repeated blows ;
in fact, on account of this transgression, he did
not enter the land promised to him, as I shall
show farther on. Moses, then, moving away
from that place, as he was preparing to lead his

1 " septingenti et xiiii milia."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

company along by the borders of Edora, sent
ambassadors to the king to beg liberty to pass
by ; for he thought it right to abstain from war
on account of the connection by blood ; for that
nation was descended from Esau. But the
king despised the suppliants, and refused them
liberty to pass by, being ready to contend in
arms. Then Moses directed his march towards
the mountain, Or, keeping clear of the forbid-
den road, that he might not furnish any cause
of war between those related by blood, and on
that route he destroyed the king of the nation of
the Canaanites. He smote also Seon the king
of the Amorites, and possessed himself of all
their towns : he conquered, too, Basan and Balac.
He pitched his camp beyond Jordan, not far
from Jericho. Then a battle took place against
the Midianites, and they were conquered and
subdued. Moses died, after he had ruled the
people forty years in the wilderness. But the
Hebrews are said to have remained in the wil-
derness for so long a time, with this view, until
all those who had not believed the words of
God perished. For, except Joshua and Caleb,
not one of those who were more than twenty
years old on leaving Egypt passed over Jordan.
That Moses himself only saw the promised land,
and did not reach it, is ascribed to his sin,
because, at that time when he was ordered to
strike the rock, and bring forth water, he doubted,
even after so many proofs of his miraculous
power. He died in the one hundred and
twentieth year of his age. Nothing is known
concerning the place of his burial.

CHAPTER XXn.

Affer the death of Moses, the chief power
passed into the hands of Joshua the son of Nun,
for Moses had appointed him his successor,
being a man very like himself in the good qualities
which he displayed. Now, at the commence-
ment of his rule, he sent messengers through
the camp to instruct the people to make ready
supplies of corn, and announces that they should
march on the third day. But the river Jordan,
a very powerful stream, hindered their crossing,
because they did not have a supply of vessels
for the occasion, and the stream could not be
crossed by fords, as it was then rushing on in
full flood. He, therefore, orders the ark to be
carried forward by the priests, and that they
should take their stand against the current of
the river. On this being done, Jordan is said
to have been divided, and thus the army was
led over on dry ground. There was in these
places a town called Jericho, fortified with very
strong walls, and not easy to be taken, either by
storm or blockade. But Joshua, putting his

trust in God, did not attack the city either by
arms or force ; he simply ordered the ark of
God to be carried round the walls, while the
priests walked before the ark, and sounded
trumpets. But when the ark had been carried
round seven times, the walls and the towers fell ;
and the city was plundered and burnt. Then
Joshua is said to have addressed the Lord, and ^
to have called down a curse upon any one who
should attempt to restore the town which had
thus by divine help been demolished. Next,
the army was led against Geth, and an ambus-
cade having been placed behind the city, Joshua,
pretending fear, fied before the enemy. On
seeing this, those who were in the town, opening
the gates, began to press upon the enemy giving
way. Thus, the men who were in ambush took
the city, and all the inhabitants were slain, without
one escaping : the king also was taken, and
suffered capital punishment.

CHAPTER XXin.

When this became known to the kings of the
neighboring nations, they made a warlike alliance
to put down the Hebrews by arms. But the
Gibeonites, a powerful nation with a wealthy
city, spontaneously yielded to the Hebrews,
promising to do what they were ordered, and
were received under protection, while they were
told to bring in wood and water. But their
surrender had roused the resentment of the
kings of the nearest cities. Accordingly, moving
up their troops, they surround with a blockade
their town, which was called Gabaoth. The
townspeople, therefore, in their distress, send
messengers to Joshua, that he would help them
in their state of siege. Accordingly, he by a
forced march came upon the enemy at unawares,
and many thousands of them were completely
destroyed. When day failed the victors, and it
seemed that night would furnish protection to
the vanquished, the Hebrew general, through the
power of his faith, kept off the night, and the
day continued, so that there was no means of
escape for the enemy. Five kings who were
taken suffered death. By the same attack,
neighboring cities also were brought under the
power of Joshua, and their kings were cut off.
But as it was not my design, studious as I am
of brevity, to follow out all these things in order,
I only carefully observe this, that twenty-nine
kingdoms were brought under the yoke of the
Hebrews, and that their territory was distributed
among eleven tribes, to man after man. For to
the Levites, who had been set apart for the
priesthood, no portion was given, in order that

1 Some words have here been lost, but are conjecturally supplied
in the text.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

they might the more freely serve God. I desire
not, in silence, to pass over the example thus
set, but I would earnestly bring it forward as
well worthy of being read by the ministers of
the Church. For these seem to me not only
unmindful of this precept, but even utterly igno-
rant of it — such a lust for possessing has, in
this age, seized, like an incurable disease, upon
their minds. They gape upon possessions ; they
cultivate estates ; they repose upon gold ; they
buy and sell ; they study gain by every possible
means. And even, if any of them seem to have
a better aim in life, neither possessing nor
trading, still (what is much more disgraceful)
remaining inactive, they look for gifts, and have
corrupted the whole glory of life by their mer-
cenary dispositions, while they present an ap-
pearance of sanctity, as if even that might be
made a source of gain. But I have gone farther
than I intended in expressing my loathing and
disgust over the character of our times ; and I
hasten to return to the subject in hand. The
vanquished territory, then, as I have already
said, having been divided among the tribes, the
Hebrews enjoyed profound peace ; their neigh-
bors, being terrified by war, did not venture to
attempt hostilities against those distinguished by
so many victories. At the same period died
Joshua in the hundred and tenth year of his
age. I do not express any definite opinion as
to the length of time he ruled : the prevalent
view, however, is, that he was at the head of the
Hebrew affairs during twenty-seven years. If
this were so, then three thousand eight hundred
and eighty-four years had elapsed from the
beginning of the world to his death.

CHAPTER XXIV.

After the death of Joshua, the people acted
without a leader. But a necessity of making
war with the Canaanites having arisen, Judah
was appointed as general in the war. Under
his guidance, matters were successfully con-
ducted : there was the greatest tranquillity both
at home and abroad : the people ruled over the
nations which had either been subdued or re-
ceived under terms of surrender. Then, as
almost always happens in a time of prosperity,
becoming unmindful of morals and discipline,
they began to contract marriages from among
the conquered, and by and by to adopt foreign
customs, yea, even in a sacrilegious manner to
offer sacrifice to idols : so pernicious is all
alhance with foreigners. God, foreseeing these
things long before, had, by a wholesome precept
enjoined upon the Hebrews to give over the
conquered nations to utter destruction. But

the people, through lust for power, preferred
(to their own ruin) to rule over those who were
conquered. Accordingly, when, forsaking God,
they worshiped idols, they were deprived of
the divine assistance, and, being vanquished and
subdued by the king of Mesopotamia, they paid
the penalty of eight years' captivity, until, with
Gothoniel as their leader, they were restored to
liberty, and enjoyed independence for fifty
years. Then again, corrupted by the evil effect
of a lengthened peace, they began to sacrifice
to idols. And speedily d'd retribution fall upon
them thus sinning. Conquered by Eglon, king
of the Moabites, they served him eighteen years,
until, by a divine impulse, Aod slew the enemies'
king by a stratagem, and, gathering together a
hasty army, restored them to liberty by force of
arms. The same man ruled the Hebrews in
peace for forty years. To him Semigar suc-
seeded, and he, engaging in battle with the
Philistines,^ secured a decisive victory. But
again, the king of the Canaanites, Jabin by
name, subdued the Hebrews who were once
more serving idols, and exercised over them a
grievous tyranny for twenty years, until Deborah,
a woman, restored them to their former condi-
tion. They had to such a degree lost confidence
in their generals, that they were now protected
l:)y means of a woman. But it is worthy of
notice, that this form of deliverance was arranged
beforehand, as a type of the Church, by whose
aid captivity to the devil is escaped. The He-
brews were forty years under this leader or
judge. And being again delivered over to the
Midianites for their sins, they were kept under
hard rule ; and, being afflicted by the evils of
slavery, they implored the divine help. Thus
always when in prosperity they were unmindfiil
of the kindnesses of heaven, and prayed to idols ;
but in adversity they cried to God. Wherefore,
as often as I reflect that those people who lay
under so many obligations to the goodness of
God, being chastised with so many disasters when
they sinned, and experiencing both the mercy
and the severity of God, yet were by no means
rendered better, and that, though they always
obtained pardon for their transgressions, yet
they as constantly sinned again after being par-
doned, it can appear nothing wonderful that
Christ when he came was not received by them,
since already, from the beginning, they were
found so often rebelling against the Lord. It is,
in fact, far more wonderful that the clemency of
God never fiiiled them when they sinned, if only
they called upon his name.^

' " Allophylos ": lit. strangers.

= Many of the proper names occurring in this and other chapters
are very different ni form from those with which we are familiar in
the O. T. But they have generally been given as they stand in the
text of o>ir anthor, and they can easily be identified by any readers
who think it worth while to do so.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

• CHAPTER XXV.

Accordingly, when the Midianites, as we have
related above, ruled over them, they turned to
the Lord, imploring his wonted tender mercy,
and obtained it. There was then among the
Hebrews one Gideon by name, a righteous man,
who was dear and acceptable to God. The
angel stood by him as he was returning home
from the harvest-field, and said unto him, "The
Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valor."
But he in a humble voice complained that the
Lord was not^ with him, because captivity
pressed sore upon his people, and he remem-
bered with tears the miracles wrought by the
Lord, who had brought them out of the land of
Egypt. Then the angel said, " Go, in this spirit
in which you have spoken, and deliver the people
from captivity." But he declared that he could
not, with his- feeble strength, since he was a
man of very small importance, undertake such
a heavy task. The angel, however, persisted in
urging him not to doubt that those things could
be done which the Lord said. So then, having
offered sacrifice, and overthrown the altar which
the Midianites had consecrated to the image of
Baal, he went to his own people, and pitched
his camp near the camp of the enemy. But the
nation of the Amalekites had also joined them-
selves to the ^lidianites, while Gideon had not
gathered more than an army of thirty-two thou-
sand men. But before the battle began, God
said to him that this was a larger number than
he wished him to lead forth to the conflict ;
that, if he did make use of so many, the Hebrews
would, in accordance with their usual wickedness,
ascribe the result of the fight, not to God, but to
their own bravery ; he should therefore furnish an
opportunity of leaving to those who desired to do
so. When this was made known to the people,
twenty and two thousand left the camp. But
of the ten thousand who had remained, Gideon,
as instructed by God, did not retain more than
three hundred : the rest he dismissed from the
field. Thus, entering the camp of the enemy
in the middle watch of the night, and having
ordered all his men to sound their trumpets, he
caused great terror to the enemy ; and no one
had courage to resist ; but they made off in a
disgraceful flight wherever they could. The
Hebrews, however, meeting them in every direc-
tion, cut the fugitives to pieces. Gideon pur-
sued the kings beyond Jordan, and having cap-
tured them, gave them over to death. In that
battle, a hundred and twenty thousand of the
enemy are said to have been slain, and fifteen
thousand captured. Then, by universal con-

' " Non esse in se."

- " Infracris viribiis ": Vorstiiis well remarks that " infractis " is
here used with the sense of the simple " fraciis."

sent, a proposal was made to Gideon that he
should be king of the people. But he rejected
this proposal, and preferred rather to live on
equal terms with his fellow-citizens than to be
their ruler. Having, therefore, escaped from
their captivity, which had pressed upon the
people for seven years, they now enjoyed peace
for a period of forty years.

CHAPTER XXVI.

But on the death of Gideon, his son Abime-
lech, whose mother was a concubine, having
slain his brothers with the concurrence of a
multitude of wicked men, and especially by the
help of the chief men among the Shechemites,
took possession of the kingdom. And he, being
harassed by civil strife, while he pressed hard
upon his people by war, attempted to storm a
certain tower, into which they, after losing the
town, had betaken themselves by flight. But, as
he approached the place without sufiicient cau-
tion, he was slain by a stone which a woman threw,
after holding the government for three years.
To him succeeded Thola, who reigned two and
twenty years. After him came Jair ; and after
he had held the chief place for a like period of
twenty-two years, the people, forsaking God,
gave themselves up to idols. On this account,
the Israelites were subdued by the PhiHstines
and Ammonites, and remained under their power
for eighteen years. At the end of this period,
they began to call upon God ; but the divine
answer to them was that they should rather in-
voke the aid of their images, for that he would
no longer extend his mercy to those who had
been so ungrateful. But they with tears con-
fessed their fault, and implored forgiveness ;
while, throwing away their idols, and earnestly
calling upon God, they obtained the divine com-
passion, though it had been at first refused.
Accordingly, under Jephtha as general, they
assembled in great numbers for the purpose of
recovering their liberty by arms, having first
sent ambassadors to King Ammon, begging that,
content with his own territories, he should keep
from warring against them. But he, far from
declining battle, at once drew up his army.
Then Jephtha, before the signal for battle was
given, is said to have vowed that, if he obtained
the victory, the person who first met him as he
returned home, should be offered to God as a
sacrifice. Accordingly, on the enemy being
defeated, as Jephtha was returning home, his
daughter met him, having joyfully gone forth
with drums and dances to receive her father as
a conqueror. Then Jephtha, being overwhelmed
with sorrow, rent his clothes in his affliction,
and made known to his daughter the stringent

^ 1

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

obligation of his vow. But she, with a courage
not to be expected from a woman, did not
refuse to die ; she only begged that her life
might be spared for two months, that she might
before dying have the opportunity of seeing the
friends of her own age. This being done, she
willingly returned to her flither, and fulfilled
the vow to God. Jephtha held the chief power
for six years. To him Esebon succeeded, and
having ruled in tranquillity for seven years, then
died. After him, Elon the Zebulonite ruled for
ten years, and Abdon also for eight years ; but,
as their rule was peaceful, they performed nothing
which history might record.

CHAPTER XXVII.

The Israelites yet again turned to idols ; and,
being deprived of the divine protection, were
subdued by the Philistines, and paid the penalty
of their unfaithfulness by forty years of captivity.
At that time, Samson is related to have been
born. His mother, after being long barren, had
a vision of an angel, and was told to abstain
from wine, and strong drink, and everything
unclean ; for that she should bear a son who
would be the restorer of liberty to the Israelites,
and their avenger upon their enemies. He,
with unshorn locks, is said to have been pos-
sessed of marvelous strength, so much so that
he tore to pieces with his hands a lion which met
him in the way. He had a wife from the Philis-
tines, and when she, in the absence of her hus-
band, had entered into marriage with another, he,
through indignation on account of his wife being
thus taken from him, wrought destruction to her
nation. Trusting in God and his own strength,
he openly brought disaster on those hitherto
victors. For, catching three hundred foxes, he
tied burning torches to their tails, and sent them
into the fields of the enemy. It so happened
that at the time the harvest was ripe, and thus
the fire easily caught, while the vines and olive-
trees were burnt to ashes. He was thus seen
to have avenged the injury done him in taking
away his wife, by a great loss inflicted on the
Philistines. And they, enraged at this disaster,
destroyed by fire the woman who had been the
cause of so great a calamity, along with her
house and her father. Put Samson, thinking
himself as yet but poorly avenged, ceased not
to harass the heathen race with all sorts of evil
devices. Then the Jews, being compelled to it,
handed him over as a prisoner to the Philistines ;
but, when thus handed over, he burst his bonds,
and seizing the jaw-bone ^ of an ass, which chance
oflered him as a weapon, he slew a thousand of
his enemies. And, as the heat of the day grew

1 Simply " osse asini " in text.

violent, and he began to suffer from thirst, he
called upon God, and water flowed forth from -
the bone which he held in his hand.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

At that time Samson ruled over the Hebrews,
the Philistines having been subdued by the
prowess of a single individual. They, therefore,
sought his life by stratagem, not daring to assail
him openly, and with this view they bribe his
wife (whom he had received after what has been
stated took place) to betray to them wherein
the strength of her husband lay. She attacked
him with female blandishments ; and, after he
had deceived* her, and staved off her purpose
for a long time, she persuaded him to tell that
his strength was situated in his hair. Presently
she cut off his hair stealthily while he was asleep,
and thus delivered him up to the Philistines ;
for although he had often before been given
up to them, they had not been able to hold him
fast. Then they, having put out his eyes, bound
him with fetters, and cast liim into prison.
But, in course of time, his hair which had been
cut off began to grow again, and his strength to
return with it. y\nd now Samson, conscious of
his recovered strength, was only waiting for an
opportunity of righteous revenge. The PhiUs-
tines had a custom on their festival days of pro-
ducing Samson as if to make a public spectacle
of him, while they mocked their illustrious cap-
tive. Accordingly, on a certain day, when they
were making a feast in honor of their idol, they
ordered Samson to be exhibited. Now, the
temple, in which all the peojile and all the
princes of the Philistines feasted, rested on two
pillars of remarkable size ; and Samson, when
brought out, was placed between these pillars.
Then he, having first called upon the Lord,
seized his opportunity, and threw down the
pillars. The whole multitude was overwhelmed
in the ruins of the building, and Samson himself
died along with his enemies, not without having
avenged himself upon them, after he had ruled
the Hebrews twenty years. To him Simmichar
succeeded, of whom Scripture relates nothing
more than that simple fact. For I do not find
that even the time when his rule came to an
end is mentioned, and I see that the people
was for some time without a leader. Accordingly,
when civil war arose against the tribe of Benja-
min, Judah was chosen as a temporary leader
in the war. But most of those who have writ-
ten about these times note that his rule was
only for a single year. On this account, many

- This is clearly the meaning, and Halm's punctuation, " invo-
cato Deo ex osse, quod manu tenebat, aqua fluxit," is obviously
wrong.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

pass him by altogether, and place Eli, the priest,
immediately after Samson. We shall leave that
point doubtful, as one not positively ascertained.

CHAPTER XXIX.

About these times, civil war, as we have said,
had broken out ; aixl the following was the
cause of the tumult. A certain Levite was on a
journey along with his concubine, and, con-
strained by the approach of night, he took up
his abode in the town of Gabaa, which was in-
habited by men of Benjamin. A certain old
man having kindly admitted him to hospitality,
the young men of the town surrounded the
guest, with the view of subjecting him to im-
proper treatment. After being much chidden
by the old man, and with difficulty dissuaded
from their purpose, they at length received for
their wanton sport the person of his concubine as
a substitute for his own ; and they thus spared
the stranger, but abused her through the whole
night, and only restored her on the following day.
But she (whether from the injury their vile con-
duct had inflicted on her, or from shame, I do not
venture to assert) died on again seeing ^ her hus-
band. Then the Levite, in testimony of the hor-
rible deed, divided her members into twelve parts,
and distributed them among the twelve tribes,
that indignation at such conduct might the more
readily be excited in them all. And when this
became known to all of them, the other eleven
tribes entered into a warlike confederacy against
Benjamin. In this war, Judah, as we have said,
was the general. But they had bad success in
the first two battles. At length, however, in the
third, the Benjamites were conquered, and cut
off to a man ; thus the crime of a few was pun-
ished by the destruction of a multitude. These
things also are contained in the Book of Judges :
the Books of Kings follow. But to me who am
following the succession of the years, and the
order of the dates, the history does not appear
marked by strict chronological accuracy. For,
since after Samson as judge, there came Semi-
gar, and a little later the history certifies that
the people lived without judges, Eli the priest is
related in the Books of Kings to have also been
a judge," but the Scripture has not stated how
many years there were between Eli and Samson.
I see that there was some portion of time be-
tween these two, which is left in obscurity.
But, from the day of the death of Joshua up to
the time at which Samson died, there are
reckoned four hundred and eighteen years, and
from the beginning of the world, four thousand

1 A clear mistake of memory in our author. The whole narra-
tive is confused.

- The meaning is here doubtful.

three hundred and three. Nevertheless, I am
not ignorant that others differ from this reckon-
ing of ours ; but I am at the same time conscious
that I have, not without some care, set forth the
order of events in the successive years (a thing
hitherto left in obscurity), until I have fallen
upon these times, concerning which I confess
that I have my doubts. Now I shall go on to
what remains.

CHAPTER XXX.

The Hebrews, then, as I have narrated above,
were living according to their own will, without
any judge or general. Eli was priest ; and in
his days Samuel was born. His fother's name
was Elchana, and his mother's, Anna. She
having long been barren, is said, when she asked
a child from God, to have vowed that, if it were
a boy, it should be dedicated to God. Accord-
ingly, having brought forth a boy, she delivered
him to Eli the priest. By and by, when he had
grown up, God spoke to him. He denounced
wrath against Eli the priest on account of the
life of his sons, who had made the priesthood
of their father a means of gain to themselves,
and exacted gifts from those who came to
sacrifice ; and, although their father is related
to have often reproved them, yet his reproofs
were too gentle to serve the purpose of discipline.
Well, the Philistines made an incursion into
Judaea, and were met by the Israelites. But the
Hebrews, being beaten, prepare to renew the
contest : they carry the ark of the Lord with
them into battle, and the sons of the priests go
forth with it, because he himself, being burdened
with years, and afflicted with blindness, could
not discharge that duty. But, when the ark
was brought within sight of the enemy, terrified
as if by the majesty of God's presence, they
were ready to take to flight. But again recover-
ing courage, and changing their minds (not
without a divine impulse), they rush into battle
with their whole strength. The Hebrews were
conquered ; the ark was taken ; the sons of the
priest fell. Eh, when the news of the calamity
was brought to him, being overwhelmed with
grief, breathed his last, after he had held the
priesthood for twenty ^ years.

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Philistines, victorious in this prosperous
battle, brought the ark of God, which had fallen
into their hands, into the temple of Dagon in
the town of Azotus. But the image, dedicated
to a demon, fell down when the ark was brought
in there ; and, on their setting the idol up again

1 The Hebrew text has forty years.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

in its place, in the following night it was torn in
pieces. Then mice, springing up throughout all
the country, caused by their venomous bites the
death of many thousand persons.^ The men of
Azotus, constrained by this source of suffering,
in order to escape the calamity, removed the ark
to Gath. But the people there being afflicted
with the same evils, conveyed the ark to Asca-
lon. The inhabitants, however, of that place,
the chief men of the nation having been called
together, formed the design of sending back the
ark to the Hebrews. Thus, in accordance with
the opinion of the chiefs, and augurs, and priests,
it was placed upon a cart, and sent back with
many gifts. This remarkable thing then hap-
pened, that when they had yoked heifers to the
conveyance, and had retained their calves at
home, these cattle took their course, without
any guide, towards Judsea, and showed no desire
of returning, from affection toward their young
left behind. The rulers of the Philistines, who
had followed the ark into the territory of the
Hebrews, were so struck by the marvelousness
of this occurrence that they performed a relig-
ious service. But the Jews, when they saw the
ark brought back, vied with each other in joy-
ously rushing forth from the town of Betsamis to
meet it, and in hurrying, exulting, and returning
thanks to God. Presently, the Levites, whose
business it was, perform a sacrifice to God, and
offer those heifers which had brought the ark.
But the ark could not be kept in the town which
I have named above, and thus severe illness fell,
by the appointment of God, upon the whole city.
The ark was then transferred to the town of
Cariathiarim,- and there it remained twenty
years.

CHAPTER XXXII.

At this time, Samuel the priest ^ ruled over
the Hebrews ; and there being a cessation of all
war, the people lived in peace. But this tran-
quillity was disturl:)ed by an invasion of the Phil-
istines, and all ranks were in a state of terror
from their consciousness of guilt. Samuel,
having first offered sacrifice, and trusting in God,
led his men out to battle, and the enemy being
routed at the first onset, victory declared for the
Hebrews. But when the fear of the enemy was
thus removed, and affiiirs were now prosperous
and peaceful, the people, changing their views
for the worse, after the manner of the mob, who
are always weary of what they have, and long
for things of which they have had no experience,
expressed a desire for the kingly name — a name

1 No reference to this occurs in the Hebrew text, but it is found
in the Greek, and is also noticed by Josephus. See the LXX.
I Sam. V. 6, and Josephus, Aniiq. vi. i.

2 Called Kirjath-jrari)u in the English version.
^ Samuel was a Levite, but not a priest

greatly disliked by almost all free nations. Yes,
with an example of madness certainly very re-
markable, they now preferred to exchange liberty
for slavery. They, therefore, come in great
numbers to Samuel, in order that, as he himself
was now an old man, he might make for them a
king. But he endeavored in a useful address,
quietly to deter the people from their insane
desire ; he set forth the. tyranny and haughty
rule of kings, while he extolled liberty, and de-
nounced slavery ; finally, he threatened them
with the divine wrath, if they should show them-
selves men so corrupt in mind as that, when
having God as their king, they should demand
for themselves a king from among men. Hav-
ing spoken these and other words of a like nature
to no purpose, finding that the people persisted
in the determination, he consulted God. And
God, moved by the madness of that insane
nation, replied that nothing was to be refused to
them asking against their own interests.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Accordingly, Saul, having been first anointed
by Samuel with the sacerdotal oil, was appointed
king. He was of the tribe of Benjamin, and his
father's name was Kish. He was modest in
mind, and of a singularly handsome figure, so
that the dignity of his person worthily corre-
sponded to the royal dignity. But in the be-
ginning of his reign, some portion of the people
had revolted from him, refusing to acknowledge
his authority, and had joined themselves to
the Ammonites. Saul, however, energetically
wreaked his vengeance on these people ; the
enemy were conquered, and pardon was granted
to the Hebrews. Then Saul is said to have
been anointed by Samuel a second time. Next,
a bloody war arose by an invasion of the
Philistines ; and Saul had appointed Gilgal as
the place where his army was to assemble.
As they waited there seven days for Samuel,
that he might offer sacrifice to God, the people
gradually dropped away owing to his delay, and
the king, with unlawful presumption, presented
a burnt-offering, thus taking upon him the duty
of a priest. For this he was severely rebuked
by Samuel, and acknowledged his sin with a
penitence that was too late. For, as a result of
the king's sin, fear had pervaded the whole
army. The camp of the enemy lying at no
great distance showed them how actual the
danger was, antl no one had the courage to
think of going forth to battle : most had be-
taken themselves to the marshes.' For besides
the want of courage on the part of those who

' The text here is very uncertain; we have followed the rending
of Halm, " lamas," but others have " lacrimas " or " latebras."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

felt that God was alienated from them on
account of the king's sin, the army was in the
greatest want of iron weapons ; so much so that
nobody, except Saul and Jonathan his son, is
said to have possessed either sword or spear.
Fpr the Philistines, as conquerors in the former
wars, had deprived the Hebrews of the use of
arms,- and no one had had the power of forging
any weapon of war, or even making any imple-
ment for rural purposes. In these circum-
stances, Jonathan, with an audacious design, and
with his armor-bearer as his only companion,
entered the camp of the enemy, and having
slain about twenty of them, spread a terror
throughout the whole army. And then, through
the appointment of God, betaking themselves to
flight, they neither carried out orders nor kept
their ranks, but placed all the hope of safety in
flight. Saul, perceiving this, hastily drew forth
his men, and pursuing the fugitives, obtained a
victory. The king is said on that day to have
issued a proclamation that no one should help
himself to food until the enemy were destroyed.
But Jonathan, knowing nothing of this prohibi-
tion, found a honey-comb, and, dipping the
point of his weapon in it, ate up the . honey.
When that became known to the king through
the anger of God which followed, he ordered
his son to be put to death. But by the help
of the people, he was saved from destruction.
At that time, Samuel, being instructed by God,
went to the king, and told him in the words
of God to make war on the nation of the
Amalekites, who had of old hindered the He-
brews when they were coming out of Egypt ;
and the prohibition was added that they should
not covet any of the spoils of the conquered.
Accordingly, an army was led into the territory
of the enemy, the king was taken, and the
nation subdued. But Saul, unable to resist
the magnitude of the spoil, and unmindful of the
divine injunctions, ordered the booty to be
saved and gathered together.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

God, displeased with what had been done,
spoke to Samuel, saying that he repented that
he had made Saul king. The priest reports
what he had heard to the king. And ere long,
being instructed by God, he anointed David
with the royal oil, while he was as yet only a
Httle boy^ living under the care of his father,
and acting as a shepherd, while he was accus-
tomed often to play upon the harp. P'or this
reason, he was taken afterwards by Saul, and

- " Armorum" is here supplied, but some prefer " cotis," accord-
ing to I Sam. xiii. 20.

' This is a mistake : David was undoubtedly then a grown-up
young man.

reckoned among the servants of the king. And
the Philistines and Hebrews being at this time
hotly engaged in war, as the armies were sta-
tioned opposite to each other, a certain man of
the Philistines named Goliath, a man of marvel-
ous size and strength, passing along the ranks
of his countrymen, cast insults, in the fiercest
terms, ui:ion the enemy, and challenged any one
to engage in single combat with him. Then the
king promised a great reward and his daughter
in marriage to any one who should bring home
the spoils of that boaster ; but no one out of so
great a multitude ventured to make the attempt.
In these circumstances, though still a youth,-
David offered himself for the contest, and reject-
ing the arms by which his yet tender age was
weighed down, simply with a staff and five stones
which he had taken, advanced to the battle. And
by the first blow, having discharged one of the
s-:ones from a sling, he overthrew the Philistine ;
then he cut off the head of his conquered foe,
carried off his spoils, and afterwards laid up his
sword in the temple. In the meanwhile, all the
Philistines, turning to flight, yielded the victory
to the Hebrews. But the great favor shown to
David as they were returning from the battle
excited the envy of the king. Fearing, how-
ever, that if he put to death one so beloved by
all, that might give rise to hatred against himself
and prove disastrous, he resolved, under an
appearance of doing him honor, to expose him
to danger. First then he made him a captain,
that he might be charged with the affairs of war ;
and next, although he had promised him his
daughter, he broke his word, and gave her to
another. Ere long, a younger daughter of the
king, Melchol by name, fell violently in love
with David. Accordingly, Saul sets before
David as the condition of obtaining her in mar-
riage the following proposal : that if he should
bring in a hundred foreskins of the enemy, the
royal maiden would be given him in marriage ;
for he hoped that the youth, venturing on so
great dangers, would probably perish. But the
result proved very different from what he im-
agined, for David, according to the proposal
made to him, speedily brought in a hundred
foreskins of the Philistines ; and thus he ob-
tained the daughter of the king in marriage.

CHAPTER XXXV.

The hatred of the king towards him increased
daily, under the influence of jealousy, for the
wicked always persecute the good. He, there-
fore, commanded his servants and Jonathan his
son, to prepare snares against his life. But
Jonathan had even from the first had a great

2 "Puer"; another mistake.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

regard and affection for David ; and therefore
the king, being taken to task by his son, sup-
pressed the cruel order he had given. But the
wicked are not long good. For, when Saul was
afflicted by a spirit of error, and David stood by
him, soothing him with the harp under his
trouble, Saul tried to pierce him with a spear,
and would have done so, had not he rapidly
evaded the deadly blow. From this time forth,
the king no longer secretly but openly sought to
compass his death ; and David no longer trusted
himself in his power. He fled, and first betook
himself to Samuel, then to Abimelech, and finally
fled to the king of Moab. By-and-by, under
the instructions of the prophet Gad, he returned
into the land of Judah, and there ran in danger
of his life. At that time, Saul slew Abimelech
the priest because he had received David ; and
when none of the king's servants ventured to lay
hands upon the priest, Doeg, the Syrian, fulfilled
the cruel duty. After that, David made for the
desert. Thither Saul also followed' him, but his
efforts at his destruction were in vain, for God
protected him. There was a cave in the desert,
opening with a vast recess. David had thrown
himself into the inner parts of this cave. Saul,
not knowing that he was there, had gone into it
for the purpose of taking^ bodily refreshment,
and there, overcome by sleep, he was resting.
When David perceived this, although all urged
him to avail himself of the opportunity, he
abstained from slaying the king, and simply took
away his mantle. Presently going out, he ad-
dressed the king from a safe position behind,
recounting the services he had done him, how
often he had exposed his life to peril for the
sake of the kingdom, and how last of all, he had
not, on the present occasion, sought to kill him
when he was given over to him by God. Upon
hearing these things, Saul confessed his fault,
entreated pardon, shed tears, extolled the piety
of David, and blamed his own wickedness, while
he addressed David as king and son. He was
so much changed from his former ferocious
character, that no one could now have thought
he would make any further attempt against his
son-in-law. But David, who had thoroughly -
tested and known his evil disposition, did not
think it safe to put himself in the power of the
king, and kept himself within the desert. Saul,
almost mad with rage, because he was unable to
capture his son-in-law, gave in marriage to one
Faltim his daughter Melchol, who, as we have
related above, had been married to David.
David fled to the Philistines.

> " Reficiendi corporis gratia": diflTerent from the Hebrew 'ext.
2 The text is uncertain, but the meaning is clear.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

At that time Samuel died. Saul, whdn the
Philistines made war upon him, consulted God,
and no answer was returned to him. Then, by
means of a woman whose entrails a spirit .of
error ^ had filled, he called up and consulted
Samuel. Saul was informed by him that on the
following day he with his sons, being overcome
by the Philistines, would fall in the battle. The
Philistines, accordingly, having pitched their
camp on the enemy's territory, drew up their
army in battle array on the following day, David,
however, being sent away from the camp,
because they did not believe that he would be
faithful to them against his own people. But
the battle taking place, the Hebrews were routed
and the sons of the king fell ; Saul, having sunk
down from his horse, that he might not be taken
alive by the enemy, fell on his own sword, ^^'e
do not find any certain statements as to the
length of his reign, unless that he is said in the
Acts of the Apostles to have reigned forty
years. As to this, however, I am inclined to
think that Paul, who made the statement in his
preaching, then meant to include also the years
of Samuel under the length of that king's reign.-
Most of those, however, who have written about
these times, remark that he reigned thirty years.
I can, by no means, agree with this opinion, for
at the time when the ark of God was transferred
to the town of Cariathiarim, Saul had not yet
begun to reign, and it is related that the ark
was removed by David the king out of that town
after it had been there twenty years. There-
fore, since Saul reigned and died within that
period, he must have held the government only
for a very brief space of time. We find the
same obscurity concerning the times of Samuel,
who, having been born under the priesthood of
Eli, is related, when very old, to have fulfilled
the duties of a priest. By some, however, who
have written about these times (for the sacred
history has recorded almost nothing about his
years)," but by most he is said to have ruled the
people seventy years. I have, however, been
unable to discover what authority there is for
this assumption. Amid such variety of error,
we have followed the account of the Chronicles,*
because we think that it was taken (as said
above) from the Acts of the Apostles, and we
repeat that Samuel and Saul together held the
government for forty years.

1 The witch of Endor seems here to be referred to as if she had
practised ventriloquism, this being regarded as a form of demoniacal
possession.

- See Alfnrd on Acts xiii. 21.

3 Halm here inserts the visual mark of a lacuna in the text:
others omit the words " a plerisque autem."

■' He here specially refers to the well-known Chrputcles ol
Eusebius, which were translated into Latin, and supplemented by
Saint Jerome.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Saul having thus been cut off, David, when the
news of his death was brought to him in the land
of the PhiHstines, is related to have wept, and
to have given a marvelous proof of his affection.
He then betook himself to Hebron, a town of
Judaea ; and, being there again anointed with
the roj-al oil, received the title of king. But
Abenner, who had been master of the host of
King Saul, despised David, and made Isbaal
king, the son of King Saul. Various battles
then took place between the generals of the
kings. Abenner was generally routed ; yet in
his flight he cut off the brother of Joab, who
had the command of the army on the side of
David. Joab, on account of the sorrow he felt
for this, afterwards, when Abenner had surren-
dered to King Daviei, ordered him to be mur-
dered, not without regret on the part of the
king, whose honor he had thus tarnished. At
the same time, almost all the older men of the
Hebrews conferred on him by public consent
the sovereignty of the whole nation ; for during
seven years he had reigned only in Hebron.
Thus, he was anointed king for the third time,
being about thirty years of age. He repulsed
in successful battles the Philistines making in-
roads upon his kingdom. And at that time, he
transferred to Zion the ark of God, which, as I
have said above, was in the town of Cariathiarim.
And when he had formed the intention of build-
ing a temple to God, the divine answer was
given him to the effect, that that was reserved
for his son. He then conquered the Philistines
in war, subjugated the Moabites, and subdued
Syria, imposing tribute upon it. He brought
back with him an enormous amount of booty in
gold and brass. Next, a war arose against the
Ammonites on account of the injury which had
been done by their king, Annon. And when
the Syrians again rebelled, having formed a con-
federacy for war with the Ammonites, David
intrusted the chief command of the war to
Joab, the master of his host, and he himself
remained in Jerusalem far from the scene of
strife.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

At this time, he knew in a guilty way Bersabe,
a woman of remarkable beauty. She is said to
have been the wife of a certain man called
Uriah, who was then in the camp. David caused
him to be slain by exposing him to the enemy
at a dangerous place in the battle. In this way,
he added to the number of his wives the woman
who was now free from the bond of marriage,
but who was already pregnant through adultery.

Then David, after being severely reproved by
Nathan the prophet, although he confessed his
sin, did not escape the punishment of God.
For he lost in a few days the son who was born
from the clandestine connection, and many
terrible things happened in respect to his house
and family. At last his son Absalom lifted im-
pious arms against his father, with the desire of
driving him from the throne. Joab encountered
him in the field of battle, and the king entreated
him to spare the young man when conquered ;
but he, disregarding this command, avenged
with the sword his parricidal attempts. That
victory is said to have been a mournful one to
the king : so great was his natural affection that
he wished even his parricidal son to be forgiven.
This war seemed hardly finished when another
arose, under a certain general called Sabaea,
who had stirred up all the wicked to arms.
But the whole commotion was speedily checked
by the death of the leader. David then engaged
in several battles against the Philistines with
favorable results ; and all being subdued by war,
both foreign and home disturbances having been
brought to accord, he possessed in peace a most
flourishing kingdom. Then a sudden desire
seized him of numbering the people, in order to
ascertain the strength of his empire ; and accord-
ingly they were numbered by Joab, the master
of the host, and were found to amount to one
miUion three hundred thousand ^ citizens. David
soon regretted and repented of this proceeding,
and implored pardon of God for having lifted
up his thoughts to this, that he should reckon
the power of his kingdom rather by the multi-
tude of his subjects than by the divine favor.
Accordingly, an angel was sent to him to reveal
to him a threefold punishment, and to give him
the power of choosing either one or another.
Well, when a famine for three years was set
before him, and flight before his enemies for
three months, and a pestilence for three days,
shunning both flight and famine, he made choice
of pestilence, and, almost in a moment of time,
seventy thousand men perished. Then David,
beholding the angel by whose right hand the
people were overthrown, implored pardon, and
offered himself singly to punishment instead of
all, saying that he deserved destruction inasmuch
as it was he who had sinned. Thus, the punish-
ment of the people was turned aside ; and David
built an altar to God on the spot where he had
beheld the angel. After this, having become
infirm through years and illness, he appointed
Solomon, who had been born to him by Bersabe,
the wife of Uriah, his successor in the kingdom.
He, having been anointed with the royal oil by

' As is often the case with respect to numbers, there are discrep'
ancies in the various accounts given of this census.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

Sadoc the priest, received the title of king,
while his father was still alive. David died,
after he had reigned forty years.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Solomon in the beginning of his reign sur-
rounded the city with a wall. To him while
asleep God appeared standing by him, and gave
him the choice of whatever things he desired.
But he asked that nothing more than wisdom
should be granted him, deeming all other things
of little value. Accordingly, when he arose from
sleep, taking his stand before the sanctuary of
God, he gave a proof of the wisdom which had
been bestowed upon him by God. For two women
who dwelt in one house, having given birth to
male children at the same time, and one of these
having died in the night three days afterwards,
the mother of the dead child, while the other
woman slept, insidiously substituted her child,
and took away the living one. Then there arose
an altercation between them, and the matter
was at length brought before the king. As no
witness was forthcoming, it was a difficult matter
to give a judgment between both denying guilt.
Then Solomon, in the exercise of his gift of
divine wisdom, ordered the child to be slain,
and its body to be divided between the two
doubtful claimants. Well, when one of them
acquiesced in this judgment, but the other
wished rather to give up the boy than that he
should be cut in pieces, Solomon, concluding
from the feeling displayed by this woman that
she was the true mother, adjudged the child to
her. The bystanders could not repress their
admiration at this decision, since he had in such
a way brought out the hidden truth by his sa-
gacity. Accordingly, the kings of the neighbor-
ing nations, out of admiration for his ability and
wisdom, courted his friendship and alliance,
being prepared to carry out his commands.

CHAPTER XL.

Trusting in these resources, Solomon set
about erecting a temple of immense size to God,
funds for the purpose having been got together
during three years, and laid the foundation of
it about the fourth year of his reign. This was
about the five hundred and eighty-eighth year
after the departure of the Hebrews from Egypt,
although in the third Book of Kings the years
are reckoned at four hundred and forty.' This
is by no means accurate ; for it would have been
more likely that, in the order of dates I have

' Here, again, there is much discrepancy in the accounts.

given above, I should perhaps reckon fewe!
years than more. But I do not doubt that the
truth had been flilsified by the carelessness of
copyists, especially since so many ages inter-
vened, rather than that the sacred" writer erred.
In the same way, in the case of this little work
of ours, we believe it will happen that, through
the negligence of transcribers, those things which
have been put together, not without care on our
part, should be corrupted. Well, then, Solomon
finished his work of building the temple in the
twentieth year from its commencement. Then,
having offered sacrifice in that place, as well as
uttered a prayer, by which he blessed the people
and the temple, God spoke to him, declaring
that, if at any time they should sin and forsake
God, their temple should be razed to the ground.
We see that this has a long time ago been ful-
filled, and in due time we shall set forth the
connected order of events. In the meantime,
Solomon abounded in wealth, and was, in fact,
the richest of all the kings that ever lived. But,
as always takes place in such circumstances, he
sunk from wealth into luxury and vice, forming
marriages (in spite of the prohibition of God)
with foreign women, until he had seven hundred
wives, and three hundred concubines. As a
consequence, he set up idols for them, after the
manner of their nations, to which they might
offer sacrifice. God, turned away from him by
such doings, reproved him sharply, and made
known to him as a punishment, that the greater
part of his kingdom would be taken from his
son, and given to a servant. And that happened
accordingly.

CHAPTER XLI.

For, on the death of Solomon in the fortieth
year of his reign, Roboam his son having suc-
ceeded to the throne of his father in the sixteenth
year of his age, a portion of the people, taking
offense, revolted from him. For, having asked
that the very heavy tribute which Solomon had
imposed upon them might be lessened, he re-
jected the entreaties of these suppliants, and
thus alienated from him the favor of the whole
people. Accordingly, by universal consent, the
government was bestowed on Jeroboam. He,
sprung from a family of middle rank, had for
some time been in the service of Solomon. But
when the king found that the sovereignty of the
Hebrews had been promised to him by a re-
sponse of the prophet Achia, he had resolved
privately to cut him off. Jeroboam, under the
influence of this fear, fled into Egypt, and there
married a wife of the royal family. But, v/her
at length he heard of the death of Solomon, he

- " Propheta."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

returned to his native land, and, by the wish of
the people, as we have said above, he assumed
the government. Two tribes, however, Judah
and Benjamin, had remained under the sway of
Roboam ; and from these he got ready an army
of thirty thousand men. But when the two hosts
advanced, the people were instructed by the
words of God to abstain from fighting, for that
Jeroboam had received the kingdom by divine
appointment. Thus the army disdained the
command of the king, and dispersed, while the
power of Jeroboam was increased. But, since
Roboam held Jerusalem, where the people had
been accustomed to offer sacrifice to God in the
temple built by Solomon, Jeroboam, fearing lest
their religious feelings might alienate the people
from him, resolved to fill their minds with super-
sdtion. Accordingly, he set up one golden calf
at Bethel, and another at Dan, to which the
people might offer sacrifice ; and, passing by the
tribe of Levi, he appointed priests from among
the people. But censure followed this guilt
so hateful to God. Frequent battles then took
place between the kings, and so they retained
their respective kingdoms on doubtful condi-
tions. Roboam died at the close of the seven-
teenth year of his reign.

CHAPTER XLII.

In his room Abiud his son held the kingdom
at Jerusalem for six years, although he is said in
the Chronicles^ to have reigned three years.
Asab his son succeeded him, being the fifth
from David, as he was his great-great-grandson.
He was a pious worshiper of God ; for, de-
stroying the altars and the groves of the idols, he
removed the traces of his father's faithlessness.
He formed an alliance with che king of Syria,
and by his help inflicted much loss on the king-
dom of Jeroboam, which was then held by his
son, and often, after conquering the enemy,
carried off spoil as the result of victory. After
forty-one }'ears he died, afflicted with disease in
his feet. To him sin of a three-fold kind is
ascribed ; first, that he trusted too much to his
alliance with the king of Syria ; secondly, that
he cast into prison a prophet of God who
rebuked him for this ; and thirdly, that, when
suffering from disease in his feet, he sought a
remedy, not from God, but from the physicians.
In the beginning of his reign died Jeroboam,
king of the ten tribes, and left his throne to his
son Nabath. He, from his wicked works, and,
both by his o\vn and his ^ father's doings, hateful
to God, did not possess the kingdom more than
two years, and his children, as being unworthy,

* The Chronicon of Eusebius is referred to.

* Many editors here read " maternis," instead of " paternis."

were deprived'"' of the government. He had
for his successor Baasa, the son of Achia, and
he proved himself equally estranged from God.
He died in the twenty-sixth year of his reign :
and his power passed to Ela his son, but was
not retained more than two years. For Zam-
bri, leader of his cavalry, killed him at a ban-
quet, and seized the kingdom, — a man equally
odious to God and men. A portion of the
people revolted from him, and the royal power
was conferred on one Thamnis. But Zambri
reigned before him seven years, and at the same
time with him twelve years. And, on the death
of Asab, Josaphat his son began to reign over
part of the tribe of Judah, a man deservedly
famous for his pious virtues. He lived at peace
with Zambri ; and he died, after a reign of
twenty-five years.

CHAPTER XLIII.

In the time of his reign, Ahab, the son of
Ambri, was king of the ten tribes, impious above
all against God. For having taken in marriage
Jezebel, the daughter of Basa, king of Sidon, he
erected an altar and groves to the idol Bahal,
and slew the prophets of God. At this time, .
Elijah the prophet by prayer shut up heaven,
that it should not give any rain to the earth, and
revealed that to the king, in order that he, in <
his impiety, might know himself to be the cause
of the evil. The waters of heaven, therefore, .
being restrained, and since the whole country,
burned up by the heat of the sun, did not
furnish food either for man or beast, the prophet
had even exposed himself to the side of perish-
ing from hunger. At that time, when he betook
himself to the desert, he depended for hfe on
the ravens furnishing him with food, while a
neighboring rivulet furnished him with water,
until it was dried up. Then, being instmcted
by God, he went to the town of Saraptae, and
turned aside to lodge with a widow-woman.
And when, in his hunger, he begged food from
her, she complained that she had only a handful
of meal and a litde oil, on the consumption of
which she expected death along with her chil-
dren.^ But when Elijah promised in the words
of God that neither should the meal lessen in
the barrel nor the oil in the vessel, the woman
did not hesitate to believe the prophet demand-
ing faith, and obtained - the fulfillment of what
was promised, since by daily increase as much

3 It is remarkable, as Hornivis has observed after Ligonius, that,
while in the kingdom of Judah the sovereignty remained in the
same family, in the kingdom of Ephraim the scepter was hardly
ever transmitted to son or grandson.

1 "Cum filiis": after the Greek; the Hebrew text speaks of
only one son.

2 .Such seems clearly to be the meaning of the somewhat strange
phrase, " promissorum fidem consecuta est."

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

was added as was day Ijy day taken away. At
the same time, Elijah restored to life the dead
son of the same widow. Then, by the command
of God, he went to the king, and having re-
proved his impiety, he ordered all the people to
be gathered together to himself. When these
had hastily assembled, the priests of the idols
and of the groves to the number of about four
hundred and fifty, were also summoned. Then
there arose a dispute between them, Elijah set-
ting forth the honor of God, while they upheld
their own superstitions. At length they agreed
that a trial should be made to this effect, that,
if fire sent down from heaven should consume
the slain victim of either of them, that religion
should be accepted as the true one which per-
formed the- miracle. Accordingly, the priests,
having slain a calf, began to call upon the idol
Bahal ; and, after wasting their invocations to
no purpose, they tacitly acknowledged the help-
lessness of their God. Then Elijah mocked
them and said, " Cry aloud more vehemently,
lest perchance he sleeps, and that thus you may
rouse him from the slumber in which he is sunk."
The wretched men could do nothing but shudder
and mutter to themselves, but still they waited
to see what Elijah would do. Well, he slew a
calf and laid it upon the altar, having first of all
filled the sacred place with water ; and then,
calling upon the name of the Lord, fire fell from
heaven in the sight of all, and consumed alike
the water and tlie victim. Then truly the peo-
ple, casting themselves upon the earth, confessed
God and execrated the idols ; while finally, by
the command of Elijah, the impious priests were
seized, and, being brought down to the brook,
were there slain. The prophet followed the
king as he returned from that place ; but as
Jezebel, the wife of the king, was devising means
for taking his life, he retired to a more remote
spot. There God addressed him, telling him
that there were still seven thousand men who
had not given themselves up to idols. That was
to Elijah a marvelous statement, for he had
supposed that he himself was the only one who
had kept free from impiety.

CHAPTER XLIV.

At that time, Ahab, king of Samaria, coveted
the vineyard of Naboth, which was adjacent to
his own. And as Naboth was unwilling to sell
it to him, he was cut off by the wiles of Jezebel.
Thus Ahab got possession of the \ineyard,
thoiigh he is said at the same time to have
regretted the death of Naboth. Acknowledging
his crime, he is related to have done ' penance
clothed in sackcloth ; and in this way he turned

* " Egisse paenitentiain."

aside threatening punishment. For the king of
Syria with a great army, having formed a military
confederacy with thirty-two kings, entered the
territories of Samaria, and began to besiege the
city with its king. The affairs of the besieged
being then in a state of great distress, the Syrian
king offers these conditions in the war, — if they
should give up their gold and silver and women,
he would spare their lives. But, with such in-
iquitous conditions offered, it seemed better to
suffer the greatest extremities. And now when
the safety of all was despaired of, a prophet sent
by God went to the king, encouraged him to
go forth to battle, and when he hesitated,
strengthened his confidence in many ways. Ac-
cordingly making a sally, the enemy were routed,
and an abundant store of booty was secured.
But, after a year, the Syrian king returned with
recruited strength into Samaria, burning to
avenge the defeat he had received, but was
again overthrown. In that battle one hundred
and twenty thousand of the Syrians perished ;
the king was pardoned, and his kingdom and
former position were granted him. Then Ahab
was reproved by the prophet in the words of
God, for having abused the divine kindness, and
spared the enemy delivered up to him. The
Syrian king, therefore, after three years, made
war upon the Hebrews. Against him Ahab,
under the advice of some false prophet, went
forth to battle, having spurned the words of
Michea the prophet and cast him into prison,
because the prophet had warned him that the
fight would prove disastrous to him. Thus,
then, Ahab, being slain in that battle, left the
kingdom to his son Ochozia.

CEIAPTER XLV.

He being sick in body, and having sent some
of his servants to consult an idol about his
recovery, Elijah, as instructed by God, met them
in the way, and, after rebuking them ordered
them to inform the king that his death would
follow from that disease. Then the king
ordered him to be seized and brought into his
presence, but those who were sent for this pur-
pose were consumed by fire from heaven. The
king died, as the ])rophet had predicted. To
him there succeeded his brother Joram ; and he
held the government for the space of twelve
years. But on the side of the two tribes, Josa-
phat the king having died, Joram his son pos-
sessed the kingdom for eighteen years. He had
the daughter of Ahab to wife, and proved him-
self more like his father-in-law than his father.
After him, Ochozias his son obtained the king-
dom. During his reign, Elijah is related to have
been taken up to heaven. At the same time,

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

Elisha his disciple showed himself powerful by
working many miracles, which are all too well
known to need any description from my pen. By
him the son of a widow was restored to life, a
leper of Syria was cleansed, at a time of famine
abundance of all things was brought into the city
by the enemy having been put to flight, water
was furnished for the use of three armies, and
from a little oil the debt of a woman was paid
by the oil being immensely multiplied, and suffi-
cient means for a livelihood was provided for
herself. In his times, as we have said, Ochozia
was king of the two tribes, while Joram, as we
have related above, ruled over the ten ; and an
alliance was formed between them. For war
was carried on by them with combined forces
both against the Syrians, and against Jeu, who
had been anointed by the prophet as king of
the ten tribes ; and having gone forth to battle
in company, they both perished in the same
fight.

CHAPTER XLVI.

But Jeu possessed the kingdom of Joram.
After the death of Ochozia in Judaea, when he
had reigned one year, his mother, Gotholiah,
seized the supreme power, having deprived her
grandson (whose name was Joas) of the gov-
ernment, he being at the time but a little child.
But the power thus snatched from him by his
grandmother was, after eight years, restored to
him through means of the priests and people,
while his grandmother was driven into exile.
He, at the beginning of his reign, was most de-
voted to the divine worship, and embellished
the temple at great expense ; afterwards, how-
ever, being corrupted by the flattery of the
chief men, and unduly honored by them, he
incurred wrath. For Azahel, king of Syria,
made war upon him ; and, as things w^ent badly
with him, he purchased peace with the gold of
the temple. He did not, however, obtain it ;
but through resentment for what he had done,
he was slain by his own people in the fortieth
year of his reign. He was succeeded by his son
Amassia. But, on the side of the ten tribes,
Jeu having died, Joachas his son began to reign,
displeasing to God on account of his wicked
works, in punishment of which his kingdom was
ravaged by the Syrians, until, through the mercy
of God, the enemy was driven back, and the
inhabitants of the land began to occupy their
former position. Joachas, having ended his
days, left the kingdom to his son Joa. He
raised civil war against Amassia, king of the two
tribes ; and, having obtained the victory, con-
veyed much spoil into his own kingdom. That
is related to have occurred to Amassia as a

punishment of his sin, for, having entered as
a con(iueror the territories of the Idumaeans, he
had adopted the idols of that nation. He is
described as having reigned nine years, so far
as I find it stated in the Books of Kings. But
in the Chronicles ^ of Scripture, as well as in the
Chronicles - of Eusebius, he is affirmed to have
held the government twenty-nine years ; and
the mode of reckoning which may easily be
perceived in these Books of Kings undoubtedly
leads to that conclusion. For Jeroboam is said
to have begun to reign as king of the ten tribes
in the eighth year of the reign of Amassia, and
to have held the government forty-one years,
and to have at length died in the fourth year of
the reign of Ozia, son of Amassia. By this mode
of reckoning, the reign of Amassia is made to
extend over twenty-eight years. Accordingly,
we, following out this, inasmuch as it is our pur-
pose to adhere in this work to the dates in their
proper order, have accepted the authority of the
Chronicles.^

CHAPTER XLVH.

OziAS, then, the son of Amassia, succeeded to
him. For, on the side of the ten tribes, Joas,
reaching the end of his days, had given place to
his son Jeroboa, and after him, again, his son
Zacharias began to reign. Of these kings, and
of all who ruled over Samaria on the side of the
ten tribes, we have not thought it necessary to
note the dates, because, aiming at brevity, we
have omitted everything superfluous ; and we
have thought that the years should be carefully
traced for a knowledge especially of the times
of that portion ^ of the Jews, which being carried
into captivity at a later period than the other,
passed through a longer time as a kingdom.
Ozias, then, having obtained the kingdom of
Judah, gave his principal care to knowing the
Lord, making great use of Zachariah the prophet
(Isaiah, too, is said to have first prophesied
under this king) ; and, on this account, he
carried on war against his neighbors with de-
servedly prosperous results, while he also con-
quered the Arabians. And already he had
shaken Egypt with the terror of his name ; but,
being elated by prosperity, he ventured on what
was forbidden, and offered incense to God, a
thing which it was the established custom for
the priests alone to do. Being, then, rebuked
by Azaria the priest, and compelled to leave the
sacred place, he burst out into a rage, but was,
when he finally withdrew, covered with leprosy.
Under the influence of this disease he ended his

' " Paralipomenis."
- " Chronicis." i.e. of Eusebius.
3 " Chronicorum," i.e. of Eusebius.

' There is a reference in these words to the two tribes, or kingdom
of Judah.

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

days, after having reigned fifty-two years. Then
tne kingdom was given to Joathas his son ; and
he is related to have been very pious, and carried
on the government with success : he subdued in
war the nation of the Ammonites, and compelled
them to pay tribute. He reigned sixteen years,
and his son Achaz succeeded him.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

The remarkable faith of the Ninevites is re-
lated to have been manifested about these times.
That town, founded of old by Assure, the son
of Sera, was the capital of the kingdom of the
Assyrians. It was then full of a multitude of
inhabitants, sustaining one hundred and twenty
thousand men, and abounding in wickedness, as
is usually the case among a vast concourse of
people. God, moved by their sinfulness, com-
manded the prophet Jonah to go from Judaea,
and denounce destruction upon the city, as
Sodom and Gomorrah had of old been con-
sumed by fire from heaven. But the prophet
decUned that office of preaching, not out of
contumacy, but from foresight, which enabled
him to behold God reconciled through the re-
pentance of the people ; and he embarked on
board a ship which was bound for Tharsus, in a
very different direction. But, after they had
gone forth into the deep, the sailors, constrained
by the violence of the sea, inquired by means
of the lot who was the cause of that suffering.
And when the lot fell upon Jonah, he was cast
into the sea, to be, as it were, a sacrifice for
stilling the tempest, and he was seized and
swallowed by a whale — a monster of the deep.
Cast out three days afterwards on the shores of
the ^ Ninevites, he preached as he had been
commanded, namely that the city would be
destroyed in three" days, as a punishment for
the sins of the people. The voice of the prophet
was listened to, not in a hypocritical fashion, as
at Sodom of old ; and immediately by the order,
and after the example, of the king, the whole
people, and even those infants newly born, are
commanded to abstain from meat and drink :
the very beasts of burden in the place, and
animals of different kinds, being forced by
hunger and thirst, presented an appearance of
those who lamented along with the human in-
habitants. In this way, the threatened evil was
averted. To Jonah, complaining to God, that
his words had not been fulfilled, it was answered
that pardon could never be denied to the peni-
tent.

' Surely a blunder; for, as has been well asked, how could Jonah,
who was swallowed by a whale in the Mediterranean, have been cast
out by the fish on the shores of the Ninevites? The Hebrew text
has simply " the dryland."

^ After the Greek; the Hebrew has " forty days."

CHAPTER XLIX.

But in Samaria, Zacharia the king, who was
very wicked, and whom we have spoken of
above as occupying the throne, was slain by a
certain Sella, who seized the kingdom. He, in
turn, perished by the treachery of Mane, who
simply repeated the conduct of his predecessor.
Mane held the government which he had taken
from Sella, and left it to his son Pache. But a
certain person of the same name slew Pache,
and seized the kingdom. Ere long being cut off
by Osee, he lost the sovereignty by the same
crime by which he had received it. This man,
being ungodly beyond all the kings who had
preceded him, brought punishment upon himself
from God, and a perpetual captivity on his
nation. For Salmanasar, king of the Assyrians,
made war with him, and when conquered ren-
dered him tributary. But when, with secret
plans, he was preparing for rebellion, and had
asked the king of the Ethiopians, who then had
possession of Egypt for his assistance, Salman-
asar, on discovering that, cast him into prison
with fetters never taken off, while he destroyed
the city, and carried off the whole people into
his own kingdom, Assyrians being placed in the
enemy's country to guard it. Hence that district
was called Samaria, because in the language of
the Assyrians guards are called Samaritee.^ Very
many of their settlers accepted the divine rite*
of the Jewish religion, while others remained in
the errors of heathenism. In this war, Tobias
was carried into captivity. But on the side of
the two tribes, Achaz, who was displeasing to God
on account of his impiety, finding he had fre-
quently the worst of it in wars with his neigh-
bors, resolved to worship the gods of the
heathen, undoubtedly because by their help his
enemies had proved victorious in frequent
battles. He ended his days Avith this crime- in
his wicked mind, after a reign of sixteen years.

CHAPTER L.

To him succeeded Ezekias his son, a man
very unlike his father in character. For, in the
beginning of his reign, urging the people and the
priests to the worship of God, he discoursed to
them in many words, showing how often, after
being chastened by the Lord, they had obtained
mercy, and how the ten tribes, having been at
last carried away into captivity, as had lately
happened, were now paying the penalty of their
impiety. He added that their duty was care-
fully to be on their guard lest they should de-
serve to suffer the same things. Thus, the

1 Vorstius remarks that this is a totally erroneous statement.
! " Piaculo": a very old meaning is here attached to the word.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

minds of all being turned to religion, he ap-
pointed the Levites and all the priests to offer
sacrifices according to the law, and arranged
that the Passover, which had for a long time
been neglected, should be celebrated. And
when the holy day was at hand, he proclaimed
the special day of assembly by messengers sent
throughout all the land, so that, if any had
remained in Samaria, after the removal of the
ten tribes, they might gather together for the
sacred observance. Thus, in a very full assem-
blage, the sacred day was spent with public
rejoicing, and, after a long interval, the proper
religious rites were restored by means of Ezekias.
He then carried on military affairs with the
same diligence with which he had attended to
divine things, and defeated the Philistines in
frequent battles ; until Sennacherim, king of the
Assyrians, made war against him, having entered
his territories with a large army ; and then, when
the country had been laid waste without any
opposition, he laid siege to the city. For Eze-
kias, being inferior in numbers, did not venture
to come to an engagement with him, but kept
himself safe within the walls. The king of
Assyria, thundering at the gates, threatened de-
struction, and demanded surrender, exclaiming
that in vain did Ezekias put his trust in God, for
that he rather had taken up arms by the appoint-
ment of God ; and that the conqueror of all
nations, as well as the overthrower of Samaria,
could not be escaped, unless the king secured
his own safety by a speedy surrender. In this
state of affairs, Ezekias, trusting in God, con-
sulted the prophet Isaiah, and from his answer
he learned that there would be no danger from
the enemy, and that the divine assistance would
not fail him. And, in fact, not long after,
Tarraca, king of Ethiopia, invaded the kingdom
of the Assyrians.

CHAPTER LI.

By this news Sennacherim was led to return
in order to defend his own territories, and he
gave up the war, at the same time murmuring
and crying out that victory was snatched from
him the victor. He also sent letters to Ezekias,
declaring, with many insulting words, that he,
after setding his own affairs, would speedily
return for the destruction of Judoea. But Eze-
kias, in no wise disturbed by these threats, is
said to have prayed to God that he would not
alluw the so great insolence of this man to pass
unavenged. Accordingly, in the same night,
an angel attacking the camp of the Assyrians,
caused ^ the death of many thousand men. The

' Our author is here guilty of omission and consequent inaccu-
racy. Comp. Isa. chap. 37.

king in terror fled to the town of Nineveh, and
being there slain by his sons, met with an end
worthy of himself. At the same time, Ezekias,
sick in body, lay suffering from disease. And
when Isaiah had announced to him in the words
of the Lord that the end of his life was at hand,
the king is related to have wept ; and thus he
got fifteen years added to his life. Thesff com-
ing to an end, he died in the twenty-ninth year
of his reign, and left the kingdom to his son
Manasse. He, degenerating much from his
father, forsook God, and took to the practice of
impious worship ; and being, as a punishment
for this, delivered into the power of the Assyr-
ians, he was by his sufferings constrained to
acknowledge his error, and exhorted the people
that, forsaking their idols, they should worship
God. He accomplished nothing worthy of
special mention, but reigned for fifty-five years.
Then Amos his son obtained the kingdom, but
possessed it only two years. He was the heir
of his father's impiety, and showed himself re-
gardless of God : being entrapped by some
stratagems of his friends, he perished.

CHAPTER LII.

The government then passed to his son Josia.
He is related to have been very pious, and to
have attended to divine things with the utmost
care, profiting largely by the aid of the priest
Helchia. Having read a book written with the
words of God, and which had been found in
the temple by the priest, in which it was stated
that the Hebrew nation would be destroyed on
account of their frequent acts of impiety and
sacrilege, by his pious supplications to God,
and constant tears, he averted the impending
overthrow. When he learned through Olda the
prophetess that this favor was granted him, he
then with still greater care set himself to prac-
tice the worship of God, inasmuch as he was
now under obligation to the divine goodness.
Accordingly, he burned all the vessels which
had by the superstitions of former kings been
consecrated to idols. For to such a height had
profane observances prevailed, that they used to
pay divine honors to the sun and moon, and
even erected shrines made of metal to these
fancied deities. Josia reduced these to powder,
and also slew the priests of the profane temples.
He did not even spare the tombs of the im-
pious ; and it was observed that thus was ful-
filled what had of old been predicted by the
prophet. In the eighteenth year of his reign,
the Passover was celebrated. And about three
years afterwards, having gone forth to battle
against Nechao, king of Egypt, who was making
war upon the Assyrians, before the armies prop-

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

erly engaged, he was wounded by an arrow.
And being carried back to the city, he died of
that wound, after he had reigned twenty and one
years.

CHAPTER LIII.

JoACHAS, his son, having then obtained the
kingdom, held it for three months, being doomed
to captivity on account of his impiety. For
.Nechao, king of Egypt, bound him and led him
away captive, and not long after, while still a
prisoner, he ended his days. An annual tribute
was demanded of the Jews, and a king was given
them at the will of the victor. His name was
Eliakim, but he afterwards changed it to Joa-
chim. He was the brother of Joacha, and the
son of Josia, but liker his brother than his father,
displeasing God by his impiety. Accordingly,
while he was in subjection to the king of Egypt,
and in token thereof paid him tribute, Na-
buchodt)nosor, the king of Babylon, seized the
land of Judsa, and as victor held it by the right
of war for three years. For the king of Egypt
now giving way, and the boundaries of their
empire being fixed between them, it had been
agreed that the Jews should belong to Babylon.
Thus after Joachim, having finished his reign of
eleven years, had given place to his son of the
same name, and he had excited against himself
the wrath of the king of Babylon (God undoubt-
edly overruling everything, having resolved to
give the nation of the Jews up to captivity and
destruction), Nabuchodonosor entered Jerusa-
lem with an army, and leveled the walls and the
temple to the ground. He also carried off an
immense amount of gold, with sacred ornaments
either public or private, and all of mature age
both of the male and female sex, those only
being left behind whose weakness or age caused
trouble to the conquerors. This useless crowd
had the task assigned them of working and cul-
tivating the fields in slavery, in order that the
soil might not be neglected. Over them a king
called Sedechias was appointed ; but while the
empty shadow of the name of king was allowed
him, all real power was taken away. Joachim,
for his part, possessed the sovereignty only for
three months. He was carried away, along with
the people, to Babylon, and was there thrown
into prison ; but being, after a period of thirty
years released, while he was admitted by the
king to his friendship, and made a partaker with
him at his table and in his counsels, he died at
last, not without some consolation in that his
misfortunes had been removed.

CHAPTER LIV.

Meanwhile Sedechias, the king of the useless
multitude, although without power, being of an
unfaithful disposition and neglectful of God,
and not understanding that captivity had been
brought upon them on account of the sins of the
nation, becoming at length ripe for suffering the
last evils he could endure, offended the mind of
the king. Accordingly, after a period of nine
years, Nabuchodonosor made war against him,
and having forced him to flee within the walls,
besieged him for three years. At this time, he
consulted Jeremia the prophet, who had already
often proclaimed that captivity impended over
the city, to discover if perhaps there might still
be some hope. But he, not ignorant of the
anger of heaven, having frequently had the same
question put to him, at length gave an answer,
denouncing special punishment upon the king.
Then Sedechias, roused to resentment, ordered
the prophet to be thrust into prison. Ere long,
however, he regretted this cruel act, but, as the
chief men of the Jews (whose practice it had
been even from the beginning to afflict the
righteous) opposed him, he did not venture to
release the innocent man. Under coercion from
the same persons, the prophet was let down
into a pit ^ of great depth, and which was dis-
gusting from its filth and squalor, while a deadly
stench issued from it. This was done that he
might not simply die by a common death. But
the king, impious though he was, yet showed
himself somewhat more merciful than the priests,
and ordered the prophet to be taken out of the
pit, and restored to the safekeeping of the prison.
In the meantime the force of the enemy and
want began to press the besieged hard, and
everything being consumed that could be eaten,
famine took a firm hold of them. Thus, its de-
fenders being worn out with want of food, the
town was taken and burnt. The king, as the
prophet had declared, had his eyes put. out, and
was carried away to Babylon, while Jeremia,
through the mercy of the enemy, was taken out
of his prison. When Nabuzardan, one of the
royal princes, was leading him away captive with
the rest, the choice was granted by him to the
prophet, either to remain in his deserted and
desolated native country, or to go along with
him in the possession of the highest honors ;
and Jeremia preferred to abide in his native
land. Nabuchodonosor, having carried away
the people, appointed as governor over those
left behind by the conquerors (either from the
circumstances attending the war, or from an ab-
solute weariness of accumulating spoil) Godolia,
who belonged to the same nation. He gave

1 " Lacum," as once before.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

him, however, no royal ensign, or even the name
of governor, because there was really no honor
in ruling over these few wretched persons.

BOOK II

CHAPTER I.

The times of the captivity have been rendered
illustrious by the predictions and deeds of the
prophets, and especially by the remarkable per-
sistency of Daniel in upholding the law, and by
the deliverance of Susanna through the divine
wisdom, as well as by the other things which it
accomplished, and which we shall now relate in
their order. Daniel was made a prisoner under
King Joachim, and was brought to Babylon,
while still a very little child. Afterwards, on
account of the beauty of his countenance, he
had a place given him among the king's servants,
and along with him, Annanias, INIisael, and Aza-
rias. But, when the king had ordered them to
be supplied with the finer kinds of food, and
had imposed it as a duty on Asphane the eunuch
to attend to that matter, Daniel, mindful of the
traditions of his fathers which forbade him to
partake of food from the table of a king of the
Gentiles, begged of the eunuch to be allowed
to use a diet of pulse only. Asphane objected
that the leanness which would follow might reveal
the fact that the king's commandment had been
disobeved ; but Daniel, putting his trust in God,
promised that he would have greater beauty of
countenance from living on pulse than from the
use of the king's dainties. And his words were
made good, so that the faces of those who were
cared for at the public, expense were regarded
as by no means comparable to those of Daniel
and his friends. Accordingly, being promoted
by the king to honor and favor, they were, in a
short time, by their prudence and wise conduct,
preferred to all those that stood nearest to the
king. About the same time, Susanna, the wife
of a certain man called Joachis, a woman of
remarkable beauty, was desired by two elders,
and, when she would not listen to their unchaste
proposals, was assailed by a false accusation.
These elders reported that a young man was
found with her in a retired place, but escaped
their hands by his youthful nimbleness, while
they were enfeebled with age. Credit, accord-
ingly, was given to these elders, and Susanna
was condemned by the sentence of the people.
And, as she was being led away to punishment
according to the law, Daniel, who was then
twelve years old, after having rebuked the Jews
for delivering the innocent to death, demanded
that she should be brought back to trial, and

that her cause should be heard afresh. For the
multitude of the Jews who were then present,
thought that a boy of an age so little command-
ing respect, had not ventured to take such a
bold step without a divine impulse, antl, granting
him the favor which was asked, returned anew
to council. The trial, then, is entered upon
once more ; and Daniel was allowed to take his
place among the elders. Upon this, he orders
the two accusers to be separated from each
other, and inquires of each of them in turn,
under what kind of a tree he had discovered the
adulteress. From the difference of answers
which they gave, their falsehood was detected :
Susanna was acquitted ; and the elders, who had
brought the innocent into danger, were con-
demned to death.

CHAPTER II.

At that time, Nabuchodonosor had a dream
marvelous for that insight ^ into the future which
it implied. As he could not of himself bring
out its interpretation, he sent for the Chald?eans
who were supposed by magic arts and by the
entrails of victims to know secret things, and to
predict the future, in order to its interpretation.
Presently becoming apprehensive lest, in the
usual manner of men, they should extract from
the dream not what was true, but what would
be acceptable to the king, he suppresses the
things he had seen, and demands of them that,
if a real power of divination was in them, they
should relate to him the dream itself; saying
that he would then believe their interpretation,
if they should first make proof of their skill by
relating the dream. But they decUned attempt-
ing so great a difficulty, and confessed that such
a thing was not within the reach of human
power.° The king, enraged because, under a
false profession of divmation, they were mocking
men with their errors, while they were compelled
by the present case to acknowledge that they
had no such knowledge as was pretended, made
an exposure of them by means of a royal edict ;
and all the men professing that art were publicly
put to death. When Daniel heard of that, he
spoke to one of those nearest to the king, and
promised to give an account of the dream, as
well as supply its interpretation. The thing is
reported to the king, and Daniel is sent for.
The mystery had already been revealed to him
by God ; and so he relates the vision of the
king, as well as interprets it. But this matter
demands that we set forth the dream of the
king and its interpretation, along with the fulfill-
ment of his words by what followed. The king,

1 "

mysterio futurorum mirabile."

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

then, had seen in his sleep an image with a
head of gold, with a breast and arms of silver,
with a belly and thighs of brass, with legs of
iron, and which in its feet ended partly with iron,
and partly with clay. But the iron and the clay
when blended together could not adhere to each
other. At last, a stone cut out without hands
broke the image to pieces, and the whole, being
reduced to dust, was carried away by the wind.

CHAPTER III.

Accordingly, as the prophet interpreted the
matter, the image which was seen furnished a
representation of the world. The golden head
is the empire of the Chaldaeans ; for we have
understood that it Avas the .first and wealthiest.
The breast and the arms of silver represent the
second kingdom ; for Cyrus, after the Chaldas-
ans and the Medes were conquered, conferred
the empire on the Persians. In the brazen
belly it is said that the third sovereignty was
indicated ; and we see that this was fulfilled, for
Alexander took the empire from the Persians,
and won the sovereignty for the Macedonians.
The iron legs point to a fourth power, and that
is understood of the Roman empire, which is
more powerful^ than all the kingdoms which
were before it. But the fact that the feet were
partly of iron and partly clay, indicates that the
Roman empire is to be divided, so as never to
be united. This, too, has been fulfilled, for the
Roman state is ruled not by one emperor but
by several, and these are always quarreling
among themselves, either in actual warfare or
by factions. Finally, by the clay and the iron
being mixed together, yet never in their sub-
stance thoroughly uniting, are shadowed forth
those future mixtures of the human race which
disagree among themselves, though apparently
combined. For it is obvious that the Roman
territory is occupied by foreign nations, or
rebels, or that it has been given over to those
who have surrendered themselves under an
appearance ^ of peace. And it is also evident
that barbarous nations, and especially Jews,
have been commingled with our armies, cities,
and provinces ; and we thus behold them living
among us, yet by no means agreeing to adopt
our customs. And the prophets declare that
these are the last times. But in the stone cut
out without hands, which broke to pieces the
gold, silver, brass, iron, and clay, there is a
figure of Christ. For he, not born under human
conditions (since he was born not of the will of
man, but of the will of God), will reduce to

' Such is clearly the meaning, but it is strangely expressed by
the words " omnibus ante regnis validissimum."
2 The text is here very uncertain and obscure.

nothing that world in which exist earthly king-
doms, and will establish another kingdom,
incorruptible and everlasting, that is, the future
world, which is prepared for the saints. The
faith of some still hesitates about this point only,
while they do not believe about things yet to
come, though they are convinced of the things
that are past. Daniel, then, was presented with
many gifts by the king, was set over Babylon
and the whole empire, and was held in the
highest honor. By his influence, Annanias,
Azarias, and Misael, were also advanced to the
highest dignity and power. About the same
time, the remarkable prophecies of Ezekiel
came out, the mystery of future things and of
the resurrection " having been revealed to him.
His book is one of great weight, and deserves to
be read with care.

CHAPTER IV.

But in Judsea, over which, as we have related
above, Godolia was set after the destruction of
Jerusalem, the Jews taking it very ill that a
ruler not of the royal race had been assigned
them by the mere will of the conqueror, with a
certain Ismael as their leader and instigator of
the execrable conspiracy, cut off Godolia by
means of treachery while he was at a banquet.
Those, however, who had no part in the plot,
wishing to take steps for avenging the deed,
hastily take up arms against Ismael. But when
he learned that destruction threatened him,
leaving the army which he had collected, and
with not more than eight companions he fled to
the Ammonites. Fear, therefore, fell upon the
whole people, lest the king of Babylon should
avenge the guilt of a few by the destruction of
all ; for, in addition to Godolia, they had slain
many of the Chaldaeans along with him. They,
therefore, form a plan of fleeing into Egypt, but
they first go in a body to Jeremia, requesting of
him divine counsel. He then exhorted them
all in the words of God to remain in their
native country, telling them that if they did so,
they would be protected by the power of God,
and that no danger would accrue from the
Babylonians, but that, if they went into Egypt,
they would all perish there by sword, and
famine, and different kinds of death. The
rabble, however, with the usual evil tendency
they show, being unaccustomed to yield to
useful advice and the divine power, did go into
Egypt. The sacred Scriptures are silent as to
their future fate ; and I have not been able
to discover anything regarding it.

3 " resurrectionis," referring probably not to the rising again of
the dead, but to the restoration of the Jews. See Ezek. chap. 37.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER V.

At this period of time, Nabuchodonosor,
elated with prosperity, erected a golden statue
to himself of enormous size, and ordered it to
be \vorshi])ed as a sacred image. And when
this was zealously gone about by all, inasmuch
as their minds had been corrupted by the uni-
versal flattery which prevailed, Annanias, Azarias,
and Misael kept aloof from the profane observ-
ance, being well aware that that honor was due to
God alone. They were therefore, according to
an edict of the king, regarded as criminals, and
there was set before them, as the means of
punishment, a fiery furnace, in order that, by
present terror, they might be compelled to
worship the statue. But they preferred to be
swallowed up by the flames rather than to com-
mit such a sin. Accordingly, they were bound,
and cast into the midst of the fire. But the
flames laid hold of the agents in this execrable
work, as they were forcing, with all eagerness, the
victims into the fire ; while — wonderful to say,
and indeed incredible to all but eye-witnesses —
the fire did not touch the Hebrews at all. They
were seen by the spectators walking in the midst
of the furnace, and singing a song of praise to
God, while there was also beheld along with
them a fourth person having the appearance of
an angel, and whom Nabuchodonosor, on obtain-
ing a nearer view of him, acknowledged to be
the' Son of God. Then the king having no
doubt that the divine power was present in the
event which had taken place, sent proclamations
throughout his whole kingdom making known
the miracle which had taken place, and confess-
ing that honor was to be paid to God alone.
Not long after, being instructed by a vision
which presented itself to him, and presently also
by a voice which reached him from heaven, he
is said to have done penance by laying aside his
kingly power, retiring from all intercourse with
mankind, and to have sustained life by herbs
alone. However, his empire was kept for him
by the will of God, undl the time was fulfilled,
and at length duly acknowledging God, he was,
after seven years, restored to his kingdom and
former position. He is related, after having
conquered Sedechia (whom he carried away
captive to Babylon), as we have said above, to
have reigned twenty-six years, although I do not
find that recorded in the sacred history. But it
has perhaps happened that, while I was engaged
in searching out many points, I found this re-
mark in the work of some anonymous author
\yhich had become interpolated in course of
time, and in which the dates of the Babylonish
kings were contained. I did not think it right

' Or, " confessed that he had seen a son of God."

to pass the remark unnoticed, since it does in
fact harmonize with the Chronicles, and dius its
account agrees with us, to the effect that,
through the succession of the kings, whose dates
the record contained, it completed seventy years
up to the first year of king Cyrus, and such in
fact is the number of years which is stated in
the sacred history to have elapsed from the cap-
tivity up to the time of Cyrus.

CHAPTER VI.

After Nabuchodonosor, the kingdom fell to
his son, whom I find called Euilmarodac in the
Chronicles. He died in the twelfth year of his
reign, and made room for his younger brother,
who was called Balthasar. He, when in the
fourteenth year he gave a public feast to his
chief men and rulers, ordered the sacred vessels
(which had been taken away by Nabuchodo-
nosor from the temple at Jerusalem, yet had not
been employed for any uses of the king, but
were kept laid up in the treasury) to be brought
forth. And when all persons, both of the male
and female sex, with his wives and concubines,
were using these amid the luxury and licentious-
ness of a royal banquet, suddenly the king ob-
served fingers writing upon the wall, and the
letters were perceived to be formed into words.-'
But no one could be found who was able to read
the writing. The king, therefore, in perturba-
tion called for the magi and the Chaldseans.
When these simply muttered among themselves
and answered nothing, the queen reminded the
king that there was a certain Hebrew, Daniel by
name, who had formerly revealed to Nabucho-
donosor a dream containing a secret mystery,
and had then, on account of his remarkable wis-
dom, been promoted to the highest honors.
Accordingly, he, being sent for, read and inter-
preted the writing, to the effect that, on account
of the sin of the king, who had profaned vessels
sacred to God, destruction impended over him,
and that his kingdom was given to the IMedes
and Persians. And this presently took place.
For, on the same night, Balthasar perished, and
Darius, a Mede by nation, took possession of his
kingdom. He again, finding that Daniel was
held in the highest reputation, placed him at
the head of the whole empire, in this following
the judgment of the kings who had preceded
him. For Nabuchodonosor had also set him
over the kidgdom, and Balthasar had presented
him with a purple robe and a golden chain,
while he also constituted him the third ruler in
the kingdom.

1 "in versum ductae literae": various emendations have been
proposed, but the text may stand. The meanin.s appears to be that
the letters were not thrown together at random, but so placed as to
form words.

lOO

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER VII.

Those, therefore, who were possessed of power
along with him, stimulated by envy, because a
foreigner belonging to a captive nation had been
placed on a footing of equality with them, con-
strain the king, who had been corrupted by flat-
tery, to enact that divine honors should be paid
to him for the next thirty days, and that it should
not be lawful for any one to pray to a god except
the king. Darius was easily persuaded to that,
through the folly of all kings who claim for
themselves divine honors. In these circum-
stances, Daniel being not unacquainted with
what had happened, and not being ignorant that
prayer ought to be addressed to God, and not to
man, is accused of not having obeyed the king's
commandment. And much against the will of
Darius, to whom he had always been dear and
acceptable, the rulers prevailed that he should
be let down into a den.^ But no harm came to
him when thus exposed to the wild beasts. And
on the king discovering this, he ordered his ac-
cusers to be given over to the lions. They, how-
ever, did not pass through a similar experience,
for they were instantly devoured to satisfy the
hunger of the savage beasts. Daniel, who had
been famous before, was now esteemed still
more famous ; and the king, repealing his for-
mer edict, issued a new one to the effect that,
all errors and superstitions being abandoned, the
God of Daniel was to be worshiped. There
exists also a record of visions of Daniel, in
which he revealed the order of events in com-
ing ages, embracing in them also the number of
the years, within which he announced that Christ
would descend to earth (as has taken place),
and clearly set forth the future coming of Anti-
christ. If any one is eager to inquire into these
points, he will find them more fully treated of in
the book of Daniel : our design is simply to
present a connected statement of events. Darius
is related to have reigned eighteen years ; after
which date Astyages began to rule over the
Medes.

CHAPTER VIII.

HiJNi Cyrus, his grandson by his daughter, ex-
pelled from the kingdom, having used the arms
of the Persians for the purpose ; and hence the
chief power was transferred to the Persians.
The Babylonians also fell under his power and
government. It happened at the beginning of
his reign that, by the issue of public edicts, he
gave permission to the Jews to return into their
own country ; and he also restored the sacred

' " lacum " : twice used before in the sense of />tt.

vessels which Nabuchodonosor had carried away
from the temple at Jerusalem. Accordingly, a
few then returned into Judaea ; as to the others,
we have not been able to discover whetlier the
desire of returning, or the power of doing so,
was wanting. There was at that time among
the Babylonians a brazen image of Belus, a very
ancient king, whom Virgil also has mentioned.^
This having been deemed sacred by the super-
stition of the people, Cyrus also had been ac-
customed to worship, being deceived by the
trickery of its priests. They affirmed that the
image ate and drank, while they themselves
secretly carried off the daily portion which w^as
offered to the idol. Cyrus, then, being on inti-
mate terms with Daniel, asked him why he did
not worship the image, since it was a manifest
symbol of the living God, as consuming those
things which were offered to it. Daniel, laugh-
ing at the mistake of the man, replied that it
could not possibly be the case, that that work
of brass — mere insensate matter — could use
either meat or drink. The king, therefore, or-
dered the priests to be called (they were about
seventy in number) ; and, bringing terror to
bear upon them, he reprovingly asked them who
WMS in the way of consuming what was oftered,
since Daniel, a man distinguished for his wis-
dom, maintained that that could not be done by
an insensate image. Then they, trusting in their
ready-made trick, ordered the usual offering to
be made, and the temple to be sealed up by the
king, on the understanding that, unless on the
following day the whole oflering were found to
have been consumed, they should suffer death,
while, on the opposite being discovered, the
same fate awaited Daniel. Accordingly, the
temple was sealed up by the signet of the king ;
but Daniel had j^reviously, without the knowl-
edge of the priests, covered the floor of it with
ashes, so that their footprints might betray the
clandestine approaches of those who entered.
The king, then, having entered the temple on
the following day, perceived that those things
had been taken away, which he had ordered to
be served up to the idol. Then Daniel lays open
the secret fraud by the betraying footprints,
showing that the priests, with their wives and
children, had entered the temple by a hole
opened from below, and had devoured those
things which w'cre served up to the idol. Ac-
cordingly, all of them were put to death by the
order of the king, while the temple and image
were submitted to the power of Daniel, and
were destroyed at his command.

' The reference is to .^ii. I. 729, but Sigoniiis and others have
suspected the words as being a gloss. They are, liowever, probably
genuine. \'irgii's words are, —

" Hie regina gravem gemmis aurocjue poposcit
Implevitque nicro paternani, quam Behis et omnes
A lielo soliti; tuni facta silentia tectis."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

lOI

CHAPTER IX.

Is the meantime, those Jews, who, as we have
said above, returned into their native land by
the permission of Cyrus, attempted to restore
their city and temple. But, being few and poor,
they made but little progress, until, at last, after
the lapse of about a hundred years, while Arta-
xerxes the king ruled over the Persians, they
were absolutely deterred from building by those
who had local authority. For, at that time,
Syria and all Judsea was ruled under the empire
of the Persians by magistrates and governors.
Accordingly, these took counsel to write to king
Artaxerxes, that it was not fitting that opportu-
nity should be granted to the Jews of rebuilding
their city, lest, in accordance with their stubborn
character, and being accustomed to rule over
other nations, they should, on recovering their
strength, not submit to live under the sway of a
foreign power. Thus, the plan of the rulers
being approved of by the king, the building of
the city was put a stop to, and delayed until the
second year of Darius the king. But, who were
kings of Persia throughout this period of time,
we shall here insert, in order that the succession
of the dates may be set forth in a regular and
fixed order. Well, then, after Darius the Mede,
who, as we have said above, reigned eighteen
years, Cyrus held the supreme power for thirty-
one years. While making war upon the Scyth-
ians, he fell in battle, in the second year after
Tarquinius Superbus began to reign at Rome.
To Cyrus succeeded his son Cambyses, and
reigned eight years. He, after harassing with
war Egypt and Ethiopia, and subduing these
countries, returned as victor to Persia, but acci-
dentally hurt himself, and died from that wound.
After his death, two brothers, who were magi,
and Medes by nation, held rule over the Per-
sians for seven months. To slay these, seven
of the most noble of the Persians formed a con-
spiracy, of whom the leader was Darius, the son
of Hystaspes, who was a cousin of Cyrus, and
by unanimous consent the kingdom was bestowed
on him : he reigned thirty and six years. He,
four years before his death, fought at Marathon,
in a battle greatly celebrated both in Greek and
Roman history. That took place about the two
hundred and sixtieth year after the founding of
Rome, while Macerinus and Augurinus were
consuls, that is, eight hundred and eighty-eight
years ago, provided the research I have made
into the succession of Roman consuls does not
deceive me ; for I have made the entire reckon-
ing down to the time of Stilico.^ After Darius
came Xerxes, and he is said to have reigned
twenty-one years, although I have found that

1 Stilico was consul during the lifetime of Sulpitius.

the length of his rule is, in most copies,- set
down at twenty and five years. To him suc-
ceeded Artaxerxes, of whom we have made
mention above. Since he ordered the building
of the Jewish city and temple to be stopped,
the work was suspended to the second year of
king Darius. But that the succession of dates
may be completed up to him, I have to state
that Artaxerxes reigned forty-one years, Xerxes
two months, and that, after him, Sucdianus
ruled for seven months.

CHAPTER X.

Next, Darius, under whom the temple was
restored, obtained the kingdom, his name being
at that time Ochus. He had three Hebrew
youths of tried fidelity as his body-guard, and
one of these had, from the proof of his prudence
which he had given, attracted towards himself
the admiration of the king. The choice, then,
being given him of asking for anything which
he had formed a desire for in his heart, groaning
over the ruins of his country, he begged permis-
sion to restore the city, and obtained an order
from the king to urge the lieutenants and rulers
to hurry forward the building of the holy temple,
and furnish the expense needful to that end.
Accordingly, the temple was completed in four
years ; that is, in the sixth year after Darius
began to reign, and that seemed, for the time,
enough to the people of the Jews. For, as it
was a work of great labor to restore the city,
distrusting their own resources, they did not
venture at the time to begin an undertaking of
so great difficulty, but were content with having
rebuilt the temple. At the same time, Esdras
the scribe, who was skilled in the law, about
twenty years after the temple had been com-
pleted (Darius being now dead who had pos-
sessed the sovereignty for nineteen years), by
the permission of Artaxerxes the second (not he
who had a place between the two Xerxes, but
he who had succeeded to Darius Ochus), set
out from Babylon with many following him, and
they carried to Jerusalem the vessels of various
workmanship, as well as the gifts which the king
had sent for the temple of God. Along with
them were but twelve Levites ; for with difficulty
that number of the tribe is related then to have
been found. He, having found that the Jews
had united in marriage with the Gentiles, rebuked
them severely on that account, and ordered
them to renounce all connections of that kind,
as well as to put away the children which had
been the issue of such marriages ; and all yielded
obedience to his word. The people, then, being

2 "in plerisque exemplaribus ": the MSS. varj'ing, as they so
often do, with respect to numbers.

I02

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

sanctified, performed the rites sanctioned by
the ancient law. But I do not find that Esdras
did anything with the view of restoring the
city ; because he thought, as I imagine, that a
more urgent duty was to reform the people
from the corrupt habits which they had con-
tracted

CHAPTER XL

There was at that time at Babylon one Nehe-
miah, a servant of the king, a Jew by birth, and
very much beloved by Artaxerxes on account of
the services he had rendered. He, having in-
quired of his fellow-countrymen the Jews, what
was the condition of their ancestral city ; and
having learned that his native land remained in
the same fallen condition as before, is said to
have been disturbed with all his heart, and
to have prayed to God with groans and many
tears. He also called to mind the sins of his
nation, and urgently entreated the divine com-
passion. Accordingly, the king noticing that he,
while waiting at table, seemed more sorrowful
than usual, asked him to explain the reasons of
his grief. Then he began to bewail the misfor-
tunes of his nation, and the ruin of his ancestral
city, which now, for almost two hundred and fifty
years, being leveled with the ground, fiirnished
a proof of the evils which had been endured,
and a gazing-stock to their enemies. He there-
fore begged the king to grant him the hberty
of going and restoring it. The king yielded to
these dutiful entreaties, and immediately sent
him away with a guard of cavalry, that he might
the more safely accomplish his journey, giving
him, at the same time, letters to the rulers re-
questing them to furnish him with all that was
necessary. When he arrived at Jerusalem, he
distributed the work connected with the city to
the people, man by man ; and all vied with each
other in carrying out the orders which they
received. And already the work of rebuilding '
had been half accomplished, when the jealousy
of the surrounding heathen burst out, and the
neighboring cities conspired to interrupt the
works, and to deter the Jews from building.
But Nehemiah, having stationed guards against
those making assaults upon the people, was in
no degree alarmed, and carried out what he
had begun. And thus, after the wall was com-
pleted, and the entrances of the gates finished,
he measured out the city for the construction
by families of houses within it. He reckoned,
also, that the people were not adequate in num-
bers to the size of the city ; for there were not
more of them than fifty thousand of both sexes

' "jamquc ad medium machinse proccsserant."

and of all ranks — to such an extent had their
formerly enormous numbers been reduced by
frequent wars, and by the multitude kept in
captivity. For, of old, those two tribes, of
whom the remaining people were all that sur-
vived, had, when the ten tribes were separated
from them, been able to furnish three hundred
and twenty thousand armed men. But being
given up by God, on account of their sin, to
death and captivity, they had sunk down to the
miserably small number which they now pre-
sented. This company, however, as I have
said, consisted only of the two tribes : the ten ^
which had previously been carried away being
scattered among the Parthians, Medes, Indians,
and Ethiopians never returned to their native
country, and are to this day held under the
sway of barbarous nations. But the completion
of the restored city is related to have been
effected in the thirty-second year of the reign
of Artaxerxes. From that time to the crucifixion
of Christ ; that is, to the time when Fufius Gem-
inus and Rubellius were consuls, there elapsed
three hundred and ninety and eight years. But
from the restoration of the temple to its de-
struction, which was completed by Titus under
Vespasian, when Augustus was consul, there was
a period of four hundred and eighty-three years.
That was formerly predicted by Daniel, who
announced that from the restoration of the
temple to its overthrow there would elapse
seventy and nine weeks. Now, from the date
of the captivity of the Jews until the time of the
restoration of the city, there were two hundred
and sixty years.

CHAPTER Xn.

At this period of time we think Esther and
Judith lived, but I confess that I cannot easily
perceive with what kings especially I should
connect the actions of their lives. For, while
Esther is said to have lived under King Arta-
xerxes, I find that there were two Persian kings
of that name, and there is much hesitation in
concluding to which of these her date is to be
assigned. However, it has seemed preferable
to me to connect the history of Esther with
that Artaxerxes under whom Jerusalem was
restored, because it is not likely that, if she had
lived under the former Artaxerxes, whose times
Esdras has given an account of, he would have
made no mention of such an illustrious woman.
This is all the more convincing since we know

' Our author here touches upon a most interesting question —
the ultimate destiny of the ten tribes. He seems to imply that none
of them returned to Palestine, but were wholly absorbed among the
Gentile nations. 'I'hat, however, cannot be correct, for it was still
possible, in the time of Christ, to speak of some as connected with
the tribe of Asher, one of the ten tribes. See Luke ii. 36.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

103

that the building of the temple was (as we have
related above) prohibited by that Artaxerxes,
and Esther would not have allowed that had
she then been united with him in marriage.
But I will now repeat what things she accom-
plished. There was at that time a certain
Vastis connected with the king in marriage, a
woman of marvelous beauty. Being accus-
tomed to extol her loveliness to all, he one day,
when he was giving a public entertainment,
ordered the queen to attend for the purpose of
exhibiting her beauty. But she, more prudent
than the foolish king, and being too modest to
make a show of her person before the eyes of
men, refused compliance with his orders. His
savage mind was enraged by this insult, and he
drove her forth, both from her condition of
marriage with him and from the palace. Con-
sequently, when a young woman was sought
after to take her place as the wife of the king,
Esther was found to excel all others in beauty.
She being a Jewess of the tribe of Benjamin,
and an orphan, without father or mother, had
been brought up by her cousin-german,^ Mar-
dochseus. On being espoused to the king, she,
by the instructions of him who had brought her
up, concealed her nation and fatherland, and
was also admonished by him not to become
forgetful of her ancestral traditions, nor, though
as a captive she had entered into marriage with
a foreigner, to take part in the food of the
heathen. Thus, then, being united to the king,
she, in a short time, as was to be expected,
easily captivated his whole mind by the power
of her beauty, so that, equalizing her with him-
self in the emblem of sovereign power, he pre-
sented her with a purple robe.

CHAPTER Xni.

At this time, Mardochaeus was among those
nearest to the king, having entirely under his
charge the affairs of the household. He had
made known to the king a plot which had been
formed by two eunuchs, and, on that account,
had become a greater favorite, while he was pre-
sented mth the highest honors. There was at
that period one Haman, a very confidential
friend of the king, whom he had made equal to
himself and, after the manner of sovereign rulers,
had ordered to be worshiped. Mardochaeus
being the one man among all who refused to do
that, had greatly kindled the wrath of the Per-
sian against himself. Accordingly, Haman set-
ting his mind to work the ruin of the Hebrew,
went to the king, and affirmed that there was in

' " patruele patre": words which have much perplexed the
editors.

his kingdom a race of men of wicked su]iersti-
tions, and hateful alike to God and men. He
said that, as they lived according to foreign laws,
they deserved to be destroyed ; and that it was
a righteous thing to hand over the whole of this
nation to death. At the same time, he promised
the king immense wealth out of their posses-
sions. The barbarous prince was easily per-
suaded, and an edict was issued for the slaughter
of the Jews, while men were at once sent out to
publish it through the whole kingdom from
India even to Ethiopia. When Mardochjeus
heard of thisj he rent his clothes, clothed him-
self in sackcloth, scattered ashes upon his head,
and, going to the palace, he there made the
whole place resound with his wailing and com-
plaints, crying out that it was an unworthy thing
that an innocent nation should perish, while
there existed no ground for its destruction.
Esther's attention was attracted by the voice of
lamentation, and she learned how the case really
stood. But she was then at a loss what step she
should take (for, according to the custom of the
Persians, the queen is not permitted access to
the king, unless she has been sent for, and
indeed is not admitted at any time the king
may please, but only at a fixed period) ; and it
happened at the time, that by this rule, Esther
was held as separated from the presence of the
king for the next thirty days. However, think-
ing that she ought to run some risk in behalf of
her fellow-countrymen, even should sure destruc-
tion await her, she was prepared to encounter
death in such a noble cause, and, after having
called upon God, she entered the court of the
king. But the barbarian, though at first amazed
at this unusual occurrence, was gradually won
over by female blandishments, and at length
went so far as to accompany the queen to a ban-
quet which she had prepared. Along with him
also went Haman, the favorite of the king, but
a deadly enemy of the nation of the Jews.
Well, when after the feasting the banquet began
to become jovial through the many cups which
were drank, Esther cast herself down at the
knees of the king, and implored him to stay the
destruction which threatened her nation. Then
the king promised to refuse nothing to her
entreaties, if she had any further request to
make. Esther at once seized the opportunity,
and demanded the death of Haman as a satis-
faction to her nation, which he had desired to
see destroyed. But the king could not forget
his friend, and hesitating a little, he withdrew
for a short time for the purpose of considering
the matter. He then returned, and when he
saw Haman grasping the knees of the queen,
excited with rage, and, crying out that violence
was being applied to the queen, he ordered him
to be put to death. It then came to the knowl-

I04

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

edge of the king that a cross' had been got
ready by Haman on which Mardochseus was to
suffer. Thus, Hauian was fixed to that very
cross, and all his goods were handed over to
Mardochaeus, while the Jews at large were set
free. Artaxerxes reigned sixty and two years,
and was succeeded by Ochus.

CHAPTER XIV.

To this series of events it will be right that
I should append an account of the doings of
Judith ; for she is related "to have lived after the
captivity, but the sacred history has not revealed
who was king of the Persians in her day. It,
however, calls the king under whom her exploits
were performed by the name of Nabuchodo-
nosor, and that was certainly not the one who
took Jerusalem. But I do not find that any one
of that name reigned over the Persians after the
captivity, unless it be that, on account of the '
wrath and like endeavors which he manifested,
any king acting so was styled Nabuchodonosor
by the Jews. Most persons, however, think that
it was Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, on this
ground that he, as a conqueror, penetrated into
Egypt and Ethiopia. But the sacred history is
opposed to this opinion ; for Judith is described
as having lived in the twelfth year of the king in
question. Now, Cambyses did not possess the
supreme power for more than eight years.
Wherefore, if it is allowable to make a conjec-
ture on a point of history, I should be inclined
to believe that her exploits were performed
under king Ochus, who came after the second
Artaxerxes. I found this conjecture on the
fact that (as I have read in profane histories)
he is related to have been by nature cruel and
fond of war. For he both engaged in hostilities
with his neighbors, and recovered by wars Egypt,
which had revolted many years before. At that
time, also, he is related to have ridiculed the
sacred rites of the Egyptians and Apis, who
was regarded by them as a god ; a thing which
Baguas, one of his eunuchs, an Egyptian by
nation, and indignant at the king's conduct,
afterwards avenged by the death of the king,
considering that the king had insulted the race
to which he belonged. Now, the inspired" his-
tory makes mention of this Baguas ; for, when
Holofernes by the order of the king led an
army against the Jews, it has related that Baguas
was among the host. Wherefore, not without
reason may I bring it forward in proof of the
opinion I have expressed that that king who

' " prenam cnicis " : after the Greek.
• The text is here uncertain.

' " histnria divina " : the writer applies these words to the
book of Judith.

was named Nabuchodonosor was really Ochus,
since profane historians have related that Baguas
lived in his reign. But this ought not to be
felt at all remarkable by any one, that mere
worldly writers have not touched on any of
those points which are recorded in the sacred
writings. The spirit of God thus took care that
the history should be strictly confined within its
own mysteries, unpolluted by any corrupt mouth,
or that which mingled truth with fiction. That
history being, in fact, separated from the affairs
of the world, and of a kind to be expressed only
in sacred words, clearly ought not to have been
mixed up with other histories, as being on a
footing of equality with them. For it would
have been most unbecoming that this history
should be commingled with others treating of
other things, or pursuing different inquiries. But
I will now proceed to what remains, and will
narrate in as few words as I can the acts per-
formed by Judith.

CHAPTER XV.

The Jews, then, having returned, as we have
narrated above, to their native land, and the
condition of their affairs and of their city being
not yet properly settled, the king of the Persians
made war on the Medes, and engaged in a suc-
cessful battle against their king, who >vas named
Arphaxad. That monarch being slain, he added
the nation to his empire. He did the same to
other nations, having sent before him Holofernes
whom he had appointed master of his host, with
a hundred and twenty thousand foot-soldiers,
and twelve thousand cavalry. He, after having
ravaged in war, Cilicia and Arabia, .took many
cities by force, or compelled them through fear
to surrender. And now the army, having moved
on to Damascus, had struck the Jews with great
terror. But as they were unable to resist, and
as, at the same time, they could not bring their
minds to acquiesce in the thought of surrender,
since they had previously known from experi-
ence the miseries of slavery, they betook them-
selves in crowds to the temple. There, with a
general groaning and commingled wailing, they
implored the divine assistance ; saying that they
had been sufticiently pimished by Ciod for their
sins and offenses ; and begging him to spare
the remnant of them who had recently been de-
liv-ered from slavery. In the meantime, Holo-
fernes had admitted the Moabites to surrender,
and joined them to himself as allies in the war
against the Jews. He inquired of their chief
men what was the power on which the Hebrews
relied in not bringing their minds to submit to
the thought of submission. In reply, a certain

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

105

man called Achior stated to him the facts, viz. :
that the Jews being worshipers of (lod, and
trained by their fathers to pious observances,
had formerly passed through a period of slavery
in Egvpt, and that, brought out from that coun-
try by the di\'ine aid, and having passed over on
foot the sea which was dried up before them,
they had at last conquered all the opposing na-
tions, and recovered the territory inhabited by
their ancestors. That subsequently, with various
fluctuations in their affairs, they had cither pros-
pered or the reverse, that, when they did sink
into adversity, they had again escaped from their
sufferings, finding that God was, in turn, either
angry against them, or reconciled towards them,
according to their deserts, so that, when they
sinned, they were chastised by the attacks of
enemies or by being sent into captivity, but were
always unconquerable when they enjoyed the
divine favor. So then, if at the present time
they are free from guilt, they cannot possibly be
subdued ; but if they are otherwise situated, they
will easily be conquered. Upon this, Holofernes,
flushed with many victories, and thinking that
everything must give way before him, was roused
to wrath, because victory on his part was re-
garded as principally depending on the sin of
the Jews, and ordered Achior to be pushed for-
ward into the camp of the Hebrews, that he
might perish in company with those who he had
affirmed could not be conquered. Now, the
Jews had then made for the mountains ; and
those to whom the business had been assigned,
proceeded to the foot of the mountains, and
there left Achior in chains. When the Jews
perceived that, they freed him from his bonds
and conducted him up the hill. On their in-
quiring the reason of what had happened, he
explained it to them, and, being received in
peace, awaited the result. I may add that, after
the victory, he was circumcised and became a
Jew. Well, Holofernes, perceiving the difficulty
of the localities, because he could not reach the
heights, surrounded the mountains with soldiers,
and took the greatest pains to cut off the He-
brews from all water supplies. On that account,
they felt all the sooner the misery of a siege.
Being therefore overcome through want of
water, they went in a company to Ozias, their
leader, all inclined to make a surrender. But
he replied that they should wait a little, and
look for the divine assistance, so that the time
of surrender was fixed for the fifth day after-
wards.

CHAPTER XVI.

When this became known to Judith (a widow
woman of great wealth, and remarkable for

beauty, but still more distinguished for her
virtue than her beauty), who was then in the
camp, she thought that, in tlie distressed cir-
cumstances of her people, some bold effort
ought to be made by her, even though it should
lead to her own destruction. She therefore
decks her head and beautifies her countenance,
and then, attended by a single maid-servant,
she enters the camp of the enemy. She was
immediately conducted to Holofernes, and tells
him that the affairs of her countrymen were
desperate, so that she had taken precautions for
her life by flight. Then she begs of the general
the right of a free egress from the camp during
night, for the purpose of saying her prayers.
That order was accordingly given to the senti-
nels and keepers of the gates. But when by
the practice of three days she had estabhshed
for herself the habit of going out and returning..
and had also in this way inspired belief in he^
into the barbarians, the desire took possessiorx
of Holofernes of abusing the person of his cap-
tive ; for, being of surpassing beauty, she had
easily impressed the Persian. Accordingly, she
was conducted to the tent of the general by
Baguas, the eunuch ; and, commencing a ban-
quet, the barbarian stupefied himself with a great
deal of wine. Then, when the servants with-
drew, before he offered violence to the woman,
he fell asleep. Judith, seizing the opportunity,
cut off the head of the enemy and carried it
away with her. Being regarded as simply going
out of the camp according to her usual custom,
she returned to her own people in safety. On
the following day the Hebrews held forth for
show the head of Holofernes from the heights ;
and, making a sally, marched upon the camp of
the enemy. And then the barbarians assemble
in crowds at the tent of their general, waiting
for the signal of battle. When his mutilated
body was discovered, they turned to flight
under the influence of a disgraceful panic, and
fled before the enemy. The Jews, for their
part, pursued the fugitives, and after slaying
many thousands, took possession of the camp
and the booty within it. Judith was extolled
with the loftiest praises, and is said to have
lived one hundred and five years. If these
things took place, as we believe, under king
Ochus, in the twelfth year of his reign, then
from the date of the restoration of Jerusalem up
to that war there elapsed two and twenty years.
Now Ochus reigned in all twenty-three years.
And he was beyond all others cruel, and more
than of a barbarous disposition. Baguas, the
eunuch, took him off by poison on an occasion
of his suffering from illness. After him, Arses
his son held the government for three years, and
Darius for four.

io6

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

CHAPTER XVII.

Against him Alexander of Macedon engaged
in war. And on liis being conquered, the sover-
eign power was taken from the Persians, after
having lasted, from the time of its establish-
ment by Cyrus, two hundred and fifty years.
Alexander, the conqueror of almost all nations,
is said to have visited the temple at Jerusalem,
and to have conveyed gifts into it ; and he pro-
claimed throughout the whole territory which he
had reduced under his sway that it should be
free to the Jews living in it to return to their
own country. At the end of the twelfth year of
his reign, and seven years after he had con-
quered Darius, he died at Babylon. His friends
who, along with him, had carried on those very
important wars, divided his empire among them-
selves. For some time they administered the
charges they had undertaken without making
use of the name of king, while a certain Arridseus
Philippus, the brother of Alexander, reigned, to
whom, being of a very weak character, the
sovereignty was nominally and in appearance
given, but the real power was in the hands of
those who had divided among themselves the
army and the provinces. And indeed this
state of things did not long continue, but all
preferred that they should be called by the
name of kings. In Syria Seleucus was the first
king after Alexander, Persia and Babylon being
also subject to his sway. At that time the Jews
paid an annual tribute of three hundred talents
of silver to the king ; but they were governed
not by foreign magistrates but by their own
priests. And they lived according to the fash-
ions of their ancestors until very many of them,
again corrupted by a long peace, began to
mingle all things with seditions, and to create
disturbances, while they aimed at the high-
priesthood under the influence of lust, avarice,
and the desire of power.

CHAPTER XVIII.

For, first of all, under king Seleucus, the son
of Antiochus the great, a certain man called
Simon accused to the king on false charges
Onias the priest, a holy and uncorrupted man,
and thus tried, but in vain, to overthrow him.
Then, after an interval of time, Jason, the
brother of Onias, went to Antiochus the king,
who had succeeded his brother Seleucus, and
promised him cin increase of tribute, if the high-
priesthood were transferred to him. And al-
though it was an unusual, and indeed, until now,
an unpermitted thing for a man to enjoy the
high-priesthood year after year, still the eager
mind of the king, diseased with avarice, was

easily persuaded. Accordingly, Onias was driven
from office, and the priesthood bestowed on
Jason. He harassed his countrymen and his
country in the most shameful manner. Then,
as he had sent through a certain .Menelaus (the
brother of that Simon who has been mentioned)
the money he had promised to the king, a way
being once laid open to his ambition, Menelaus
obtained the priesthood by the same arts which
Jason had employed before. But not long after,
as he had not furnished the promised amount
of money, he was driven from his position, and
Lysimachus substituted in his stead. Then there
arose disgraceful conflicts between Jason and
Menelaus, until Jason, as an exile, left the coun-
try. By examples like these, the morals of the
people became corrupted to such an extent, that
numbers of the natives begged permission from
Antiochus to live after the fashion of the Gen-
tiles. And when the king granted their request,
all the most worthless vied Avith each other in
their endeavors to construct temples, to sacrifice
to idols, and to profane the law. In the mean-
time, Antiochus returned from Alexandria (for
he had then made war upon the king of Egypt,
which, however, he gave up by the orders of the
senate and Roman people, when Paulus and
Crassus were consuls), and went to Jerusalem.
Finding the people at variance from the diverse
superstitions they had adopted, he destroyed the
law of God, and showed favor to those who fol-
lowed impious courses, while he carried off all
the ornaments of the temple, and wasted it with
much destruction. That came to pass in the
hundred and fiftieth year after the death of
Alexander, Paulus and Crassus being, as we
have said, consuls, about five years after Antio-
chus began to reign.

CHAPTER XIX.

But that the order of the dates may be cor-
rectly presented, and that it may appear more
clearly who this Antiochus was, we shall enu-
merate both the names and times of the kings
who came after Alexander in Syria. Well, then,
king Alexander having died, as we have related
above, his whole empire was portioned out by
his friends, and was governed for some time by
them under the name of the king.' Seleucus,
after the lapse of nine years, was himself styled
king in Syria, and reigned thirty-two years.
After him came Antiochus, his son, with a reign
of twenty-one years. Then came Antiochus, the
son of Antiochus, who was surnamed Theus, and

After him, his son

he reigned fifteen years.

^ They did not themselves, for a time, assume the name of king,
but, as said above, professed to rule under the authority of king
Arridxus, brother of Alexander.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

107

Seleucus, surnamed Callinicns, reigned twenty-
one years. Another Seleucus, the son of CalU-
nicus, reigned three years. After his death,
Antiochus, the l)rother of CalHnicus, held Asia
and Syria for thirty-seven years. This is the
Antiochus against whom Lucius Scipio Asiaticus
made war ; and he, being worsted in the war,
was stripped of a part of his empire. He had
two sons, Seleucus and Antiochus, the latter of
whom he had given as a hostage to the Romans.
Thus, then, Antiochus the great having died, his
younger son Seleucus obtained the kingdom,
under whom, as we have said, Onias the priest
had an accusation brought against him by Simon.
Then Antiochus was set free by the Romans,
and there was given in his place as hostage
Demetrius, the son of Seleucus, who was at that
time reigning. Seleucus dying in the twelfth
year of his reign, his brother Antiochus, who
had been a hostage at Rome, seized the king-
dom. He, five years after the beginning of his
reign, did, as we have shown above, lay waste
Jerusalem. For, as he had to pay a heavy trib-
ute to the Romans, he was almost of necessity
compelled, in order to meet that enormous ex-
pense, to provide himself with money by rapine,
and to neglect no opportunity of plundering.
Then, after two years, the Jews being again
visited by a similar disaster to that which they
had suffered before, lest it should happen that,
driven on by their numerous miseries, they should
commence war, he placed a garrison in the cita-
del. Next, with the view of overturning the
holy law, he published an edict, that all, forsak-
ing the traditions of their ancestors, should live
after the manner of the Gentiles. And there
were not wanting those who readily obeyed this
profane enactment. Then truly there was a hor-
rible spectacle presented ; through all the cities
sacrifices were publicly offered in the streets,
while the sacred volumes of the law and the
prophets were consumed with fire.

CHAPTER XX.

At that time, Matthathias, the son of John,
was high-priest. When he was being forced by
the servants of the king to obey the edict, with
marvelous courage he set at naught the profane
enactments, and slew, in the presence of all, a
Hebrew who was publicly performing profone
acts. A leader having thus been found, rebel-
lion at once took place. Matthathias left the
town ; and as many flocked to him, he got up
the appearance of a regular army. The object
of every man in that host was to defend himself
by arms against a profane government, and
rather even to fall in war than to take part in
impious ceremonies. In the meantime, Anti-

ochus was compelling those Jews who were
found in the Greek cities in his dominions to
offer sacrifice, and was visiting with unheard-of
torments those who refused. At this time, there
occurred that well-known and remarkable suffer-
ing of the seven brothers and their mother.
All of the brothers, when they were being
forced to violate the law of God, and the cus-
toms of their ancestors, preferred rather to die.
At last, their mother, too, accompanied them
both in their sufferings and death.

CHAPTER XXI.

In the meantime, Matthathias dies, having
appointed in his own place his son Judah, as
general of the army which he had brought to-
gether. Under his leadership, several success-
ful battles took place against the royal forces.
For first of all, he destroyed, along with his
whole army, ApoUonius, the enemy's general,
who had entered on the conflict with a large
number of troops. When a certain man, named
Seron, who was then the ruler of Syria, heard
of this, he increased his forces, and attacked
Judah with much spirit as being superior in
numbers, but when a battle took place, he was
routed and put to flight ; and with the loss of
nearly eight hundred men, he returned to Syria.
On this becoming known to Antiochus, he was
filled with rage and regret, inasmuch as it vexed
him that his generals had been conquered, not-
withstanding their large armies. He therefore
gathers aid from his whole empire, and bestows
a donative on the soldiers, almost to the ex-
haustion of his treasury. For he was then suf-
fering in a very special manner from the want
of money. The reason of this was, on the one
side, that the Jews, who had been accustomed
to pay him an annual tribute of more than three
hundred talents of silver, were now in a state
of rebellion against him ; and on the other side,
that many of the Greek cities and countries
were unsettled by the evil of persecution. For
Antiochus had not spared even the Gentiles,
whom he had sought to persuade to abandon
their long-established superstitions, and to
draw over to one kind of religious obsei-vance.
And no doubt, those of them who regarded
nothing as sacred, easily were induced to give
up their ancient forms of worship, but at the
same time all were in a state of alarm and dis-
aster. For these reasons, then, the taxes had
ceased to be paid. Boiling with wrath on these
grounds (for he who had of old been the richest
of kings now deeply felt the poverty due to his
own wickedness), he divided his forces with
Lysias, and committed to him Syria and the
war against the Jews, while he himself set out

io8

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

against the Persians, to collect the taxes among
them. Lysias, then, selected Ptolemy, Gorgias,
Doro, and Nicanor, as generals in the war ; and
to these he gave forty thousand infantry, and
seven thousand cavalry. At the first onset,
these caused great alarm among the Jews.
Then Judah, when all were in despair, exhorted
his men to go with courageous hearts to battle —
that, if they put their trust in God, everything
v.'ould give way before them ; for that often
before then the victory had been won by a few
fighting against many. A fast was proclaimed,
and sacrifice was offered, after which they went
down to battle. . The result was that the forces
of the enemy were scattered, and Judah, taking
possession of their camp, found in it both much
gold and Tyrian treasures. For merchants
from Syria, having no doubt as to victory, had
followed the king's army with the hope of pur-
chasing prisoners, and now were themselves
spoiled. When these things were reported to
Lysias by messengers, he got together troops
with still greater efforts, and in a year after
again attacked the Jews with an enormous
army ; but being defeated, he retreated to
Antioch.

CHAPTER XXII.

Judah, on the defeat of the enemy, returned
to Jerusalem, and bent his mind on the purifi-
cation and restoration of the temple, which hav-
ing been overthrown by Antiochus, and profaned
by the Gentiles, presented a melancholy specta-
cle. But as the Syrians held the citadel, which
being connected with the temple, but standing
above it in position, was really impregnable, the
lower parts proved inaccessible, as frequent
sallies from above prevented persons from ap-
])roaching them. . But Judah placed against
these assailants a very powerful body of his men.
Thus the work of the sacred building was pro-
tected, and the temple was surrounded with a
wall, while armed men were appointed to main-
tain a perpetual defence. And Lysias, having
again returned into Judaea with increased forces,
was once more defeated with a great loss both
of his own army and of the auxiliaries, which
being sent to him by various states had com-
bined with him in the war. In the meantime,
Antiochus, who, as we have said above, had
marched into Persia, endeavored to plunder the
town of Elymus, the wealthiest in the country,
and a temple situated there which was filled
with gold ; but, as a multitude flocked together
from all sides for the defense of the place, he
was put to flight. Moreover, he received news
of the want off success which had attended the

efforts of Lysias.^ Thus, from distress of mind,
he fell into bodily disease. But as he was then
tormented with internal sufferings, he remem-
bered the miseries which he had inflicted on
the people of God, and acknowledged that these
evils had deservedly been sent upon him.
Then, after a few days, he died, having reigned
eleven years. He left the kingdom to his son
Antiochus, to whom the name of Eupator was
given.

CHAPTER XXIII.

At that time Judah besieged the Syrians who
were posted in the citadel. They, being sore
pressed with famine and want of all things, sent
messengers to the king to implore assistance.
Accordingly, Eupator came to their aid with a
hundred thousand infantry and twenty thousand
cavalry, while elephants marched in front of his
line, causing immense terror to the onlookers.
Then Judah, abandoning the siege, went to
meet the king, and routed the Syrians in the
first battle. The king begged for peace, which,
because ^ he, with his treacherous disposition,
made a bad use of, vengeance followed his
treachery. For Demetrius, the son of Seleucus,
who, we have said above, was handed over as
a hostage to the Romans, when he heard' that
Antiochus had departed, begged that they would
send him to take possession of the kingdom.
And when this was refused to him, he secretly
fled from Rome, came into Syria, and seized the
supreme power, having slain the son of Anti-
ochus, who had reigned one year and six
months. It was during his reign that the Jews
first begged the friendship of the Roman people,
and alliance with them ; and the embassy to
this effect having been kindly received, they
were, by a decree of the senate, styled allies
and friends. In the meantime Demetrius was,
by means of his generals, carrying on war against
Judah. And first the army was led by a certain
man named Bacchides, and by Alcimus, a Jew ;
Nicanor, being afterwards placed at the head of
the war, fell in battle. Then Bacchides and
Alcimus, recovering power, and having increased
their forces, fought against Judah. The Syrians,
turning out victorious in that battle, cruelly
abused their victory. The Hebrews elect Jona-
than, the brother of Judah, in his place. In the
meantime, Alcimus, after he had fearfully deso-
lated Jerusalem, dies ; Bacchides, being thus de-
prived of his ally, returns to the king. Then,
after an interval of two years, Bacchides again
made war upon the Jews, and being beaten, he

1 Some acid the words, "or of Lysimachus," but this appears to
have been a closs.

1 The text is here in utter confusion; we have followed that
suggested by Vorstius.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

109

begged for peace. Hiis was granted him on
certain conditions, to the effect that he should
give up the deserters and prisoners, along with
all that he had taken in war.

CHAPTER XXIV.

While these things are going on in Judaea, a
certain young man educated at Rhodes, by
name Alexander, gave himself out as being the
son of Antiochus (which was false), and assisted
by the power of Ptolemy, king of Alexan-
dria, came into Syria with an army. He con-
quered Demetrius in war, and slew him after
he had reigned twelve years. This Alexander,
before he made war against Demetrius, had
formed an alliance with Jonathan, and had pre-
sented him with a purple robe and royal ensigns.
For this reason Jonathan had assisted him with
auxiliary forces ; and on the defeat of Deme-
trius, had been the very first to meet him with
congratulations. Nor did Alexander afterv\'ards
violate the faith which he had pledged. Accord-
ingly, in the five years during which he held the
chief power, the affairs of the Jews were peace-
ful. In these circumstances, Demetrius, the
son of Demetrius, who, after the death of his
father, had betaken himself to Crete, at the in-
stigation of Lasthenes, general of the Cretans,
tried by war to recover the kingdom of his
father, but finding his power unequal to the
task, he implored Ptolemy Philometor, king of
Egypt, the father-in-law of Alexander, but who
was then on bad terms with his son-in-law, to
give him assistance. But he, induced not so
much by the entreaties of the suppliant as by
the hope of seizing Syria, joined his forces with
those of Demetrius, and gives him his daughter,
who had been married to Alexander. Ag<ainst
these two Alexander fought a pitched battle.
Ptolemy fell in the fight, but Alexander was de-
feated ; and he was soon afterwards slain, after
he had reigned five, or as I find it stated in
many authors^ nine years.

CHAPTER XXV.

Demetrius, having thus obtained the king-
dom, treated Jonathan with kindness, made a
treaty with him, and restored the Jews to their
own laws. In the meantime, Tryphon, who had
belonged to the party of Alexander, was ap-
pointed ^ governor of Syria, to keep him in
check by war. Jonathan," on the other hand.

* Some words have here been lost, but the critics are not agreed
as to what should be supplied.

^ As Vorstius suggests, we have here taken Jonathan as a nomi-
native, but the passage is very obscure.

descended to battle, formidable with an army of
forty thousand men. Tryphon, when he saw
himself unequal to the contest, pretended a
desire for peace, and slew Ptolemais who had
been received and invited into friendship with
him. After Jonathan, the chief power was con-
ferred on his brother Simon. He celebrated
the funeral of his brother with great pomp, and
built those well-known seven pyramids of most
noble workmanship, in which he buried the
remains both of his brothers and of his father.
Then Demetrius renewed his treaty with the
Jews ; and in consideration of the loss caused
to them by Tryphon (for after the death of
Jonathan he had wasted by war their cities and
territories), he remitted to them their annual
tribute forever ; for up to that time, they had
paid tribute to the kings of Syria, except when
they resisted by force of arms. That took place
in the second year of king Demetrius ; and we
have noted that, because up to this year we have
run through the times of the Asiatic kings, that
the series of dates being given in order might
be perfectly clear. But now we shall arrange
the order of events through the times of those,
who were either high-priests or kings among the
Jews, up to the period of the birth of Christ.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Well, then, after Jonathan, his brother Simon,
as has been said above, ruled over the Hebrews
with the power of high-priest. For that honor
was then bestowed upon him both by his own
countrymen and by the Roman people. He
began to rule over his countrymen in the second
year of king Demetrius, but eight years after-
wards, being deceived by a plot of Ptolemy, he
met his death. He was succeeded by his son
John. And he, on the ground that he had
fought with distinction against the Hyrcani, a
very powerful nation, received the surname of
Hyrcanus. He died, after having held the
supreme power for twenty-six years. After him,
Aristobulus being appointed high-priest, was the
first of all living after the captivity to assume the
name of king, and to have a crown placed upon
his head. At the close of a year, he died.
Then Alexander, his son, who was both king
and high-priest, reigned twenty-seven years;
but I have found nothing in his doings worthy
of mention, except his cruelty. He having left
two young sons named Aristobulus and Hyrca-
nus, Salina or Alexandra, his wife, held the sov-
ereignty for three years. After his decease,
frightful conflicts about the supreme power arose
between the two brothers. And first of all,
Hyrcanus held the government ; but being by
and by defeated by his brother Aristobulus, he

I lO

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

fled to Pompey. That Roman general, having
finished the war withtMithridates, and settled
Armenia and Pontus, being, in fact, the con-
queror of all the nations which he had visited,
desired to march inwards,' and to add all the
neighboring regions to the Roman empire. He
therefore inquired into the causes of the war,
and the means of obtaining^ the mastery. Ac-
cordingly he readily received Hyrcanus, and,
under his guidance, attacked the Jews ; but
when the city was taken and destroyed, he
spared the temple. He sent Aristobulus in
chains to Rome, and restored the right of the
high-priesthood to Hyrcanus. Setthng the trib-
ute to be paid by -the Jews, he placed over them
as governor a certain Antipater of Askelon.
Hyrcanus held the chief power for thirty-four
years ; but while he carried on war against the
Parthians, he was taken prisoner.

CHAPTER XXVIl.

Then Herod, a foreigner, the son of Antipater
of Askelon, asked and received the sovereignty
of Judcea from the senate and people of Rome.
Under him, the Jews began for the first time to
have a foreigner as king. For as now the ad-
vent of Christ was at hand, it was necessary,
according to the predictions of the prophets, that
they should be deprived of their own rulers, that
they might not look for anything beyond Christ.
Under this Herod, in the thirty-third year of his
reign, Christ was born on the twenty-fifth of
December in the consulship of Sabinus and
Rufinus. But we do not venture to touch on
these things which are contained in the Gospels,
and subsequently in the Acts of the Apostles,
lest the character of our condensed work should,
in any measure, detract from the dignity of the
events ; and I shall proceed to what remains.
Herod reigned four years after the birth of the
Lord ; for the whole period of his reign com-
prised thirty-seven years. After him, came
Archelaus the tetrarch, for eight years, and
Herod for twenty-four years. Under him, in
the eighteenth year of his reign, the Lord was
crucified, Fufius Geminus and Rubellius Gem-
inus being consuls ; from which date up to the
consulship of Stilico, there have elapsed three
hundred and seventy-two years.

CHAPTER XXVni.

Luke made known the doings of the apostles
up to the time when Paul was brought to Rome
under the emperor Nero. As to Nero, I shall

1 " Introrsum," toivards home; another reading is " ultror-
%\im" /nriher onwards.

• "vincendi": others read " incendii."

not say that he was the worst of kings, but that
he was worthily held the basest of all men, and
even of wild beasts. It was he who first began a
persecution ; and I am not sure but he will be
the last also to carry it on, if, indeed, we admit,
as many are inclined to believe, that he will yet
appear immediately before the coming of Anti-
christ. Our subject would induce me to set
forth his vices at some length, if it were not in-
consistent v»ith the purpose of this work to enter
upon so vast a topic. I content myself with the
remark, that he showed himself in every way
most abominable and cruel, and at length even
went so far as to be the murderer of his own
mother. After this, he also married a certain
Pythagoras in the style of solemn alliances, the
bridal veil being put upon the emperor, while
the usual dowry, and the marriage couch, and
wedding torches, and, in short, all the other
observances were forthcoming — things which
even in the case of women are not looked upon
without some feeling of modesty. But as to his
other actions, I doubt whether the description
of them would excite greater shame or sorrow.
He first attempted to abolish the name of Chris-
tian, in accordance with the fact that vices are
always inimical to virtues, and that all good men
are ever regarded by the wicked as casting re-
proach upon them. For, at that time, our divine
religion had obtained a wide prevalence in the
city. Peter was there executing the office of
bishop, and Paul, too, after he had been bro'ught
to Rome, on appealing to Caesar from the un-
just judgment of the governor. Multitudes then
came together to hear Paul, and these, influenced
by the truth which they were given to know, and
by the miracles ' of the apostles, which they then
so frequently performed, turned to the worship
of God. For then took place the well-known
and celebrated encounter of Peter and Paul with
Simon.- He, after he had flown up into the air
by his magical arts, and supported by two de-
mons (with the view of proving that he was a
god), the demons being put to flight by the
prayers of the apostles, fell to the earth in the
sight of all the people, and was dashed to pieces.

CHAPTER XXIX.

In the meantime, the nui\iber of the Christians
being now very large, it happened that Rome
was destroyed by fire, while Nero was stationed
at Antium. But the opinion of all cast the
odium of causing the fire upon the emperor,
and he was believed in this way to have sought
for the glory of building a new city. And in
fact, Nero could not by any means he tried

1 " virtutibus."

- Generally spoken of as Simon Magus

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

I II

escape from the charge that the fire had been
caused bv his orders. He therefore turned the
accusation against the Christians, and the most
cruel tortures were accordingly inflicted upon
the innocent. Nay, even new kinds of death
were invented, so that, being covered in the
skins of wild beasts, they perished by being de-
voured by dogs, while many were crucified or
slain by fire, and not a few were set apart for
this purpose, that, when the day came to a close,
thev should be consumed to serve for light dur-
ing the night. In this way, cruelty first began
to be manifested against the Christians. After-
wards, too, their religion was prohibited by laws
which were enacted ; and by edicts openly set
forth it was proclaimed unlawful to be a Chris-
tian. At that time Paul and Peter were con-
demned to death, the former being beheaded
with a sword, while Peter suffered crucifixion.
And while these things went on at Rome, the
Jews, not able to endure the injuries they suffered
under the rule of Festus Florus, began to rebel.
Vespasian, being sent by Nero against them, with
proconsular power, defeated them in numerous
important battles, and compelled them to flee
within the walls of Jerusalem. In the mean-
while Nero, now hateful even to himself from a
consciousness of his crimes, disappears from
among' men, leaving it uncertain whether or not
he had laid violent hands upon himself: cer-
tainly his body was never found. It was accord-
ingly believed that, even if he did put an end to
himself with a sword, his wound was cured, and
his life preserved, according to that which was
written regarding him, — " And his mortal -
wound was healed," — to be sent forth again
near the end of the world, in order that he may
practice the mystery of iniquity.

CHAPTER XXX.

So then, after the departure of Nero, Galba
seized the government ; and ere long, on Galba
being slain, Otho secured it. Then Vitellius from
Gaul, trusting to the armies which he coni-
manded, entered the city, and having killed
Otho, assumed the sovereignty. This afterwards
passed to Vespasian, and although that was ac-
complished by evil means, yet it had the good
effect of rescuing the state from the hands of
the wicked. While Vespasian was besieging
Jerusalem, he took possession of the imperial
power ; and as the fashion is, he was saluted as
emperor by the army, with a diadem placed
upon his head. He made his son Titus, Caesar ;
and assigned him a portion of the forces, along
with the task of continuing the siege of Jerusa-
lem. Vespasian set out for Rome, and was re-

' " humanis rebus eximitur."

- Rev. .xiii. 3.

ceived with the greatest favor by the senate and
people ; and Vitellius having killed himself, his
hold of the sovereign power was fully confirmed.
The Jews, meanwhile, being closely besieged, as
no chance either of peace or surrender was
allowed them, were at length perishing from
famine, and the streets began everywhere to be
filled with dead bodies, for the duty of burying
them could no longer be performed. Moreover,
they ventured on eating all things of the most
abominable nature, and did not even abstain
from human bodies, except those which putre-
faction had already laid hold of and thus
excluded from use as food. The Romans,
accordingly, rushed in upon the exhausted
defenders of the city. And it so happened
that the whole multitude from the country,
and from other towns of Judaea, had then as-
sembled for the day of the Passover : doubt-
less, because it pleased God that the impious
race should be given over to destruction at the
very time of the year at which they had cruci-
fied the Lord. The Pharisees for a time main-
tained their ground most boldly in defense of
the temple, and at length, with minds obsti-
nately bent on death, they, of their own accord,
committed themselves to the flames. The num-
ber of those who suffered death is related to
have been eleven hundred thousand, and one
hundred thousand were taken captive and sold.
Titus is said, after calling a council, to have
first deliberated whether he should destroy the
temple, a structure of such extraordinary work.
For it seemed good to some that a sacred edi-
fice, distinguished above all human achieve-
ments, ought not to be destroyed, inasmuch
as, if preserved, it would furnish an evidence of
Roman moderation, but, if destroyed, would
serve for a perpetual proof of Roman cruelty.
But on the opposite side, others and Titus him-
self thought that the temple ought specially to
be overthrown, in order that the rehgion of the
Jews and of the Christians might more thor-
oughly be subverted ; for that these religions,
although contrary to each other, had nevertheless
proceeded from the same authors ; that the
Christians had sprung up from among the Jews ;
and that, if the root were extirpated, the off-
shoot would speedily perish. Thus, according
to the divine will, the minds of all being in-
flamed, the temple was destroyed, three hun-
dred and thirty-one years ago. And this last
overthrow of the temple, and final captivity of
the Jews, by which, being exiles from their na-
tive land, they are beheld scattered through the
whole" world, furnish a daily demonstration to
the world, that they have been punished on no
other account than for the impious hands which
they laid upon Christ. For though on other
occasions they were often given over to captivity

112

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

on account of their sins, yet they never paid the
penalty of slavery beyond a period of seventy
years.

CHAPTER XXXI.

Then, after an interval, Domitian, the son of
Vespasian, persecuted the Christians. At this
date, he banished John the Apostle and Evan-
gelist to the island of Patmos. There he, secret
mysteries having been revealed to him, wrote
and published his book of the holy Revelation,
which indeed is either foolishly or impiously
not accepted by many. And with no great
interval there then occurred the third persecu-
tion under Trajan. But he, when after torture
and racking he found nothing in the Christians
worthy of death or punishment, forbade any
further cruelty to be put forth against them.
Then under Adrian the Jews attempted to rebel,
and endeavored to plunder both Syria and
Palestine ; but on an army being sent against
them, they were subdued. At this time Adrian,
thinking that he would destroy the Christian
faith by inflicting an injury upon the place, set
up the images of demons both in the temple
and in the place where the Lord suffered. And
because the Christians were thought principally
to consist of Jews (for the church at Jerusalem
did not then have a priest except of the circum-
cision), he ordered a cohort of soldiers to keep
constant guard in order to prevent all Jews from
approaching to Jerusalem. This, however,
rather benefited^ the Christian faith, because
almost all then believed in Christ as God while
continuing - in the observance of the law. Un-
doubtedly that was arranged by the over-ruling
care of the Lord, in order that the slavery of
the law might be taken away from the liberty of
the faith and of the church. In tliis way, Mark
from among the Gentiles was then, first of all,
bishop at Jerusalem. A fourth persecution ■ is
reckoned as having taken place under Adrian,
which, however, he afterwards forbade to be
carried on, declaring it to be unjust that any
one should be put on his trial without a charge
being specified against him.

CHAPTER XXXH.

After Adrian, the churches had peace under
the rule of Antoninus Pius. Then the fifth
persecution began under Aurelius, the son of
Antoninus. And then, for the first time,_mar-

' How so? Because, according to Diusius, the Christian Jews
were thus first taught to cast off the yoke of the law, which they
had observed up to this time.

- These were half-Jews and hnlf-Christians, and were known at
a Inter date under the name of Nazaritts. They made use of what
was called the Gospel according to the Hebrews.

tyrdoms were seen taking place in Gaul, for the
religion of God had been accepted somewhat
late beyond the Alps. Then the sixth persecu-
tion of the Christians took place under the
emperor Severus, At this time Leonida, the
father of Origen, poured forth his sacred blood
in martyrdom. Then, during an interval of
thirty-eight years, the Christians enjoyed peace,
except that at the middle of that time Maxi-
minus persecuted the clerics of some churches.
Ere long, imder Decius as emperor, the seventh
bloody persecution broke out against the Chris-
tians. Next, Valerian proved himself the eighth
enemy of the saints. After him, with an interval
of about fifty years, there arose, under the em-
perors Diocletian and Maximian, a most bitter
persecution which, for ten continuous years,
wasted the people of God. At this period,
almost the whole world was stained with the
sacred blood of the martyrs. In fact, they vied
with each other in rushing upon these glorious
struggles, and martyrdom by glorious deaths
was then much more keenly sought after than
bishoprics are now attempted to be got by
wicked ambition. Never more than at that
time was the world exhausted by wars, nor did
we ever achieve victory with a greater triumpn
than when we showed that we could not be
conquered by the slaughters of ten long years.
There survive also accounts of the sufferings of
the martyrs at that time which were committed
to writing ; but I do not think it suitable to
subjoin these lest I should exceed the limits
prescribed to this work.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Well, the end of the persecutions was reached
eighty-eight years ago, at which date the em-
perors began to be Christians. For Constantine
then obtained the sovereignty, and he was the
first Christian of all the Roman rulers. At that
time, it is true, Licinius, who was a rival of
Constantine for the empire, had commanded
his soldiers to sacrifice, and was expelling from
the service those who refused to do so. But
that is not reckoned among the persecutions ; it
was an affair of too little moment to be able to
inflict any wound upon the churches. From
that time, we have continued to enjoy tranquil-
lity ; nor do I believe that there will be any
further persecutions, except that which Anti-
christ will carry on just before the end of the
world. For it has been proclaimed in divine
words, that the world was to be visited by ten
afilictions ; ' and since nine of these have already
been endured, the one which remains must be

' " decern plagis. "

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

1 1

the last. During this period of time, it is mar-
velous how the Christian religion has prevailed.
For Jerusalem wliich had presented a horrible
mass of ruins was then adorned with most numer-
ous and magnificent churches. And Helena, the
mother of the emperor Constantine (who reigned
along with her son as Augusta), having a strong
desire to behold Jerusalem, cast down the idols
and the temples which were found there ; and
in course of time, through the exercise of her
royal powers, she erected churches '^ on the site
of the Lord's passion, resurrection, and ascen-
sion. It is a remarkable fact that the spot on
which the divine footprints had last been left,
when the Lord was carried up in a cloud to
heaven, could not be joined by a pavement with
the remaining part of the street. For the earth,
unaccustomed to mere human contact, rejected
all the appliances laid upon it, and often threw
back the blocks of marble in the faces of those
who were seeking to place them. Moreover, it
is an enduring proof of the soil of that place
having been trodden by God, that the footprints
are still to be seen ; and although the faith of
those who daily flock to that place, leads them
to vie with each other in seeking to carry away
what had been trodden by the feet of the Lord,
yet the sand of the place suffers no injury ; and
the earth still preserves the same appearance
which it presented of old, as if it had been
sealed by the footprints impressed upon it.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Through the kind efforts of the same queen,
the cross of the Lord was then found. It could
not, of course, be consecrated at the beginning,
owing to the opposition of the Jews, and after-
wards it had been covered over by the rubbish
of the ruined city. And now, it would never have
been revealed except to one seeking for it in
such a believing spirit. Accordingly, Helena
having first got information about the place of
our Lord's passion, caused a band of soldiers to
be brouglit^ up to it, while the whole multitude
of the inhabitants of the locality vied with each
other in seeking to gratify the desires of the
queen, and ordered the earth to be dug up, and
all the adjacent most extensive ruins to be
cleared out. Ere long, as the reward of her
faith and lalior, three crosses (as of old they
had been fixed for the Lord and the two rob-
bers) were discovered. But upon this, the
greater difficulty of distinguishing the gibbet on
which the Lord had hung, disturbed the minds
and thoughts of all, lest by a mistake, likely

5 "basilicas": edifices, which, in size and grandeur, had some
resemblance to a royal palace.

^ '' admota militari manu atqne omnium provincialium multitu-
dine in stadia reginae certantium."

enough to be committed by mere mortals, thcv
might perhaps consecrate as the cross of the
Lord, that which belonged to one of the robbers.
They form then the plan of placing one who
had recently died in contact with the crosses.
Nor is there any delay in carrying out this pur-
pose ; for just as if by the appointment of God,
the funeral of a dead man was then being con-
ducted with the usual ceremonies, and all rush-
ing up took the body from the bier. It was
applied in vain to the first two crosses, but when
it touched that of Christ, wonderful to tell,
while all stood trembling, the dead body was-
shaken off, and stood up in the midst of those
looking at it. The cross was thus discovered,
and was consecrated with all due ceremony.''

CHAPTER XXXV.

Such were -the things accomplished by Helena,
while, under a Christian prince, the world had
both attained to liberty, and possessed in him
an exemplar of faith. But a for more dreadful
danger than all that had preceded fell upon all
the churches from that state of tranquillity. For
then the Arian heresy burst forth, and disturbed
the whole world by the error which it instilled.
For by means of the two ^ Ariuses, who were
the most active originators of this unfaithfulness,
the emperor himself was led astray, and while
he seemed to himself to fulfill a religious duty,
he proceeded to a violent exercise of persecu-
tion. The bishops were driven into exile :
cruelty was exerted against the clerics ; and
even the laity were punished, who had separated
from the communion of the Arians. Now, the
doctrines which the Arians proclaimed were of
the following nature, — that God the Father
had begotten his Son for the purpose of creating
the world ; and that, by his power, he had
made " out of nothing into a new and second
substance, a new and second God ; and that
there was a time when the Son had no existence.
To meet this evil, a synod was convened from
the whole world to meet at Nicasa. Three
hundred and eighteen bishops were there as-
sembled : the foith was fully set forth in writing ;
the Arian heresy was condemned ; and the em-
peror confirmed the whole by an imperial de-
cree. The Arians, then, not daring to make any
further attempt against the orthodox faith, mixed
themselves among the churches, as if they
acquiesced in the conclusions which had been
reached, and did not hold any different opinions.

2 " funus excussum": a singular expression.

° "ambitu": apparently used here with the meaning which
sometimes belongs to " ambitione."

^ The one of these was Arius, the author of the heresy, and the
other a presbyter of Alexandria bearing the same name.

- Both the text and meaning are here obscure. We have read,
with Halm, " fecisse " for the usual " factum."

114

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

There remained, however, in their hearts, a
deep-seated hatred against the CathoHcs, and
they assailed, with suborned accusers and
trumped-up charges, those with whom they
could not contend in argument on matters of
faith.

CHAPTER XXXVL

Accordingly, they first attack and condemn
in his absence Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria,
a holy man, who had been present as deacon at
the Synod of Nicaea. For they added to the
charges which false witnesses had heaped up
against him, this one, that, with wicked inten-
tions, he had received ' Marcellus and Photinus,
heretical priests who had been condemned by a
sentence of the Synod. Now, it was not doubt-
ful as to Photinus that he had been justly con-
demned. But in the case of Marcellus, it
seemed that nothing had then been found
worthy of condemnation, and- a belief in his
innocence was above all strengthened by the
animus of that party, inasmuch as no one
doubted that those same judges were hereti-
cal by whom he had been condemned. But
the Arians did not so much desire to get these
persons out of the way as Athanasius him-
self. Accordingly, they constrain the emperor
to go so far as this, that x^thanasius should be
sent as an exile into Gaul. But ere long, eighty
bishops, assembling together in Egypt, declare
that Athanasius had been unjustly condemned.
The matter is referred to Constantine : he
orders^ bishops from the whole world to assem-
ble at Sardes, and that the entire process by
which Athanasius had been condemned, should
be reconsidered by the council. In the mean-
time, Constantine dies, but the Synod, called
together while he was yet emperor, acquits
Athanasius. Marcellus, too, is restored to his
bishopric, but the sentence on Photinus, bishop
of Sirmion, was not rescinded ; for even'* in the
judgment of our friends, he is regarded as a
heretic. However, even this result chagrined
Marcellus, because Photinus was known to have
been his disciple in his youth. But this, too,
tended to secure an acquittal for Athanasius,
that Ursatius and Valens, leading men among
the Arians, when they were openly separated
from the communion of the Church after the
Synod at Sardes, entering into the presence of

1 Dinerent periods and events are here mixed up by our author.

2 Tile text is iu utter confusion, and we can only make a prob-
able guess at the meaning.

3 It has been remarked that Sulpitius is in error in ascribing the
summoninj; of this council to Constantine the Great, instead of his
son Constantine II. The curious thing is that he should have made
a mistake regarding an event so near his own time.

* " qui etiam nostrorum judicio haereticus probatur."

Julius, bishop of Rome, asked pardon of him
for having condemned the innocent, and publicly
declared that he had been justly acquitted by
the decree of the Council of Sardes.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

When, after an interval of some time had
elapsed, Athanasius, finding that Marcellus was
by no means sound in the faith, suspended him
from communion. And he had this degree of
modesty, that, being censured by the judgment
of so great a man, he voluntarily gave way. But
though at a former period innocent, yet con-
fessedly afterwards becoming heretical, it may
be allowed to conclude that he was really then
guilty when judgment was pronounced regard-
ing him. The Arians, then, finding an oppor-
tunity of that kind, conspire to subvert alto-
gether the decrees of the Synod of Sardes. For
a certain coloring of right seemed to be fur-
nished them in this fact, that a favorable judg-
ment had as unjustly been formed on the side
of Athanasius, as Marcellus had been improp-
erly acquitted, since now, even in the opinion
of Athanasius himself, he was deemed a heretic.
For INIarcellus had stood for^vard as an upholder
of the Sabellian heresy.^ But Photinus had
already brought forward a new heresy, differing
indeed from Sabellius with respect to the union
of the divine persons, but proclaiming that
Christ had his beginning in Mary. The Arians,
therefore, with cunning design, mix up what
was harmless with what was blameworthy, and
embrace, under the same judgment, the con-
demnation of Photinus, and Marcellus, and
Athanasius. They undoubtedly did this with
the view of leading the minds of the ignorant to
conclude, that those had not judged incorrectly
regarding Athanasius, who, it was admitted, had
expressed a well-based opinion respecting Mar-
cellus and Photinus. At that time, however,
the Arians concealed their treachery ; and
not daring openly to proclaim their erroneous
doctrines, they professed themselves Catholics.
They thought that their first great object should
be to get Athanasius turned out of the church,
who had always presented a wall of opposition
to their endeavors, and they hoped that, if he
were removed, the rest would pass over to their
evil- opinion. Now, that part of the bishops
which followed the Arians accepted the con-
demnation of Athanasius with delight. Another
part, constrained by fear and faction, yielded to
the wish of the Arian party ; and only a few, to

1 As Epiphanius remarks, Sabellius taught that the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost were all the same person, only under different
appellations.

■' " libidinem."

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

115

whom the true faith was dearer than any other
consideration, refused to accept their unjust
judgment. Among these was PauUnus, the
bishop of Treves. It is related that he, when
a letter on the subject was placed before him,
thus wrote, that he gave his consent to the con-
demnation of Photinus and Marcellus, but did
not approve that of Athanasius.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

But then the Arians, seeing that stratagem
did not succeed, determined to proceed by
force. For it was easy for those to attempt
and carry out anything who were supported by
the favor of the monarch, whom they had
thoroughly won over to themselves by wicked
flatteries. Moreover, they were by the consent
of all unconquerable ; for almost all the bishops
of the two Pannonias, and many of the Eastern
bishops, and those throughout all Asia, had
joined in their unfaithfulness. But the chief
men in that evil company were Ursatius of
Singidunum, Valens of Mursa, Theodorus of
Heraclia, Stephanus of Antioch, Acatius
of Csesarea, Menofantus of Ephesus, Georgius
of Laodicia, and Narcissus of Neronopolis.
These had got possession of the palace to such
an extent that the emperor did nothing without
their concurrence. He was indeed at the beck
of all of them, but was especially under the in-
fluence of Valens. For at that time, when a
battle was fought at Mursa against Magnentius,
Constantius had not the courage to go down to
witness for himself the conflict, but took up his
abode in a church of the martyrs which stood
outside the town, Valens who was then the
bishop of the place being with him to keep up
his courage. But Valens had cunningly ar-
ranged, through means of his agents, that he
should be the first to be made acquainted with
the result of the batde. He did this either to
gain the favor of the king, if he should be the
first to convey to him good news, or with a view
to saving his own life, since he would obtain
time for flight, should the issue prove unfortu-
nate. Accordingly, the few persons who were
with the king being in a state of alarm, and the
emperor himself being a prey to anxiety, Valens
was the first to announce to them the flight of
the enemy. When Constandus requested that
the person who had brought the news should be
introduced to his presence, Valens, to increase
the reverence felt for himself, said that an angel
was the messenger who had come to him. The
emperor, who was easy of belief, was accustomed
afterwards openly to declare that he had won
the victory through the merits of Valens, and
not by the valor of his army.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

From this first proof that the prince had
been won over to their side, the Arians plucked
up their courage, knowing that they ct)uld make
use of the power of the king, when they could
make little impression by their own authority.
Accordingly, when our friends did not accept of
the judgment which they had pronounced in
regard to Athanasius, an edict was issued by the
emperor to the effect that those who did not sub-
scribe to the condemnation of Athanasius should
be sent into banishment. But, at that time,
councils of bishops were held by our friends at
Aries and Bitterse, towns situated in Gaul. They
requested that before any were compelled to sub-
scribe against Athanasius, they should rather enter
on a discussion as to the true faith ; and main-
tained that only then was a decision to be come
to respecting the point in question, when they
had agreed as to the person of the judges.^ But
Valens and his confederates not venturirlg on
a discussion respecting the faith, first desired
to secure by force the condemnation of Athan-
asius. Owing to this conflict of parties, PauU-
nus was driven into banishment. In the mean-
time, an assembly was held at Milan, where the
emperor then was ; but the same controversy was
there continued without any relaxation of its bit-
terness. Then Eusebius, bishop of the Vercel-
lenses, and Lucifer, bishop of Caralis' in Sardinia,
were exiled. Dionysius, however, priest of Milan,
subscribed to the condemnation of Athanasius, on
the condition that there should be an investiga-
tion among the bishops as to the true faith. But
Valens and Ursatius, with the rest of that party,
through fear of the people, who maintained the
Catholic faith with extraordinary enthusiasm,
did not venture to set forth in public their
monstrous^ doctrines, but assembled within the
palace. From that place, and under the name of
the emperor, they issued a letter full ^ of all sorts
of wickedness, with this purpose, no doubt, that,
if the people gave it a favorable hearing, they
should then bring forward, under public au-
thority, the things which they desired ; but if it
should be received otherwise, that all the ill feel-
ing might be directed against the king, while his
mistake might be regarded as excusable, because
being then only a catechumen, he might readily
be supposed to have erred concerning the mys-
teries of the faith. Well, when the letter was
read in the church, the people expressed their
aversion to it. And Dionysius, because he did
not concur with them, was banished from the
city, while Auxentius was immediately chosen as

1 The text is here in utter confusion and uncertainty. Some for
" ac turn " read " nee turn," and some, instead of " judicum " read
"judicium." The meaning therefore can only be guessed at. ^

= The modern Cagliari. , ' " Piacula profiteri.

* Instead of " refertam," some read " infectam. "

ii6

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

bishop in his place. Liberius, too, bishop of
the city of Rome, and Hilarius, bishop of Poic-
tiers, were driven into exile. Rhodanius, also,
bishop of Toulouse (who, being by nature of a
softer disposition, had resisted the Arians, not
so much from his own powers as from his fellow-
ship with Hilarius) was involved in the same
punishment. All these persons, however, were
prepared to suspend Athanasius from commun-
ion, only in order that an inquiry mignt be in-
stituted among the bishops as to the true faith.
But it seemed best to the Arians to withdraw the
most celebrated men from the controversy. Ac-
cordingly, those whom we have mentioned above
were driven into exile, forty-five years ago, when
Arbitio and Lollianus were consuls. Liberius,
however, was, a litde afterwards, restored to the
city, in consequence of the disturbances at
Rome. But it is well known that the persons
exiled were celebrated by the admiration of the
whole world, and that abundant supplies of
money were collected to meet their wants, while
they were visited by deputies of the Catholic
people from almost all the provinces.

CHAPTER XL.

In the meantime, the Arians, not secretly, as
before, but openly and publicly proclaimed their
monstrous heretical doctrines. Moreover, they
interpreted after their own views the Synod of
Nicnea, and by the addition of one letter to its
finding, threw a sort of obscurity over the truth.
For where the expression Homoousion had been
written, which denotes " of one substance," they
maintained that it was written Ho)noiousio7i,
which simply means " of like substance." They
thus granted a likeness, but took away unity ;
for likeness is very different from unity ; just as,
for illustration's sake, a picture of a human body
might be like a man, and yet possess nothing of
the reality of a man. But some of them went
even farther, and maintained Anomoioiisia, that
is, an unlike substance. And to such a pitch
did these controversies extend, that the wide
world was involved in these monstrous errors.
For Valens and Ursatius, with their supporters,
whose names we have stated, infected Italy,
Illyria, and the East with these opinions. Satur-
ninus, bishop of Aries, a violent and factious
man, harassed our country of Gaul in like man-
ner. There was also a prevalent belief that
Osius froni Spain had gone over to the same
unfaithful party, which appears all the more
wonderful and incredible on this account, that
he had been, almost during his whole life, the
most determined upholder of our views, and the
Synod of Nice was regarded as having been held
at his instigation. If he did go over, the reason

may have been that in his extreme old age (for
he was then more than a centenarian, as St.
Hilarius relates in his epistles) he had fallen
into dotage. While the world was disturbed by
these things, and the churches were languishing
as if from a sort of disease, an anxiety, less
exciting indeed, but no less serious, pressed
upon the emperor, that although the Arians,
whom he favored, appeared the stronger, yet
there was still no agreement among the bishops
concerning the faith.

CHAPTER XLI.

Accordingly, the emperor orders a Synod to
assemble at Ariminum, a city of Italy, and in-
structs Taurus the prefect, not to let them sepa-
rate, after they were once assembled, until they
should agree as to one faith, at the same time
promising him the consulship, if he carried the
affair to a successful termination. Imperial '
officers, therefore, being sent through Illyria,
Italy, Africa, and the two Gauls, four hundred
and rather more Western bishops were sum-
moned or compelled to assemble at Ariminum ;
and for all of these the emperor had ordered
provisions^ and lodgings to be provided. But
that appeared unseemly to the men of our part
of the world, that is, to the Aquitanians, the
Gauls, and Britons, so that refusing the public
supphes, they preferred to live at their own
expense. Three only of those from Britain,
through want of means of their own, made use
of the public bounty, after having refused con-
tributions offered by the rest ; for they thought
it more dutiful to burden the public treasury
than individuals. I have heard that Gavidius,
our bishop, was accustomed to refer to this con-
duct in a censuring sort of way, but I would be
inclined to judge far otherwise ; and I hold it
matter of admiradon that the bishops had noth-
ing of their own, while they did not accept
assistance from others rather than from the
public treasury, so that they burdened nobody.
In both points, they thus furnished us with a
noble example. Nothing worthy of mention is
recorded of the others ; but I return to the sub-
ject in hand. After all the bishops had been
collected together, as we have said, a separation
of parties took place. Our friends^ take pos-
session of the church, while the Arians select, as
a place for prayer, a temple which was then in-
tentionally standing empty. But these did not
amount to more than eighty persons : the rest
belonged to our party. Well, after frequent
meetings had been held, nothing was really

1 *' magistris officialibiis": Halm reads " magistri."

2 " annonas et cellaria."

' Of course, the Catholics, or orthodox.

THE SACRED HISTORY OE SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

117

accomplished, our friends continuing in the
faith, and the others not abandoning their un-
faithfuhiess. At length it was resolved to send
ten deputies to the emperor, that he might learn
what was the faith or opinion of the parties, and
might know that there could be no peace with
heretics. The Arians do the same thing, and
send a like number of deputies, who should con-
tend with our friends in the presence of the
emperor. But on the part of our people, young
men of but little learning and little prudence
had been selected ; while, on the side of the
Arians, old men were sent, skillful and abounding
in talent, thoroughly imbued, too, with their old
unfaithful doctrines ; and these easily got the
upper hand with the prince. But our friends
had been specially charged not to enter into any
kind of communion with the Arians, and to
reserve every point, in its entirety, for discussion
in a Synod.

CHAPTER XLII.

Ix the meantime in the East, after the example
of the West, the emperor ordered almost all the
bishops to assemble at Seleucia, a town of
Isauria. At that time, Hilarius, who was now
spending the fourth year of his exile in Phrygia,
is compelled to be present among the other
bishops, the means of a public conveyance
being furnished to him by the lieutenant ^ and
governor. As, however, the emperor had given
no special orders regarding him, the judges,
simply following the general order by which
they were commanded to gather all bishops to
the council, sent him also among the rest who
were willing to go. This was done, as I imagine,
by the special ordination of God, in order that
a man who was most deeply instructed in divine
things, might be present Avhen a discussion was
to be carried on respecting the faith. He, on
arriving at Seleucia, w^as received with great
favor, and drew the minds and affections of all
towards himself. His first imjuiry was as to the
real faith of the Gauls, because at that time the
Arians had spread evil reports regarding us, and
we were held suspected by the Easterns as hav-
ing embraced the belief of Sabellius, to the
effect that the unity of the one God was simply
distinguished " by a threefold name. But after
he had set forth his faith in harmony with those
conclusions which had been reached by the
fathers at Nicaea, he bore his testimony in
favor of the Westerns. Thus the minds of all
having been satisfied, he was admitted to com-

* " per vicarium ac praesidem": as Vorstius remarks, these were
the two magistrates of Phrygia.

- " trionymam solitarii Dei unionem": Hornius here remarks
that " Sabellius believed that the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Spirit were the same, and differed among themselves only in nam;."

munion, and being also received into alliance,
was addeil to the council. They then pro-
ceeded to actual work, and the originators of
the wicked heresy being discovered, were sepa-
rated from the body of the Church. In that
number were Georgius of Alexandria, Acacius,
Eudoxius, Vranius, Leontius, Theodosius, Eva-
grius, Theodulus. But when the Synod was
over, an embassy was appointed to go to the
emperor and make him acquainted with what
had been done. Those who had been con-
demned also went to the prince, relying upon
the power of their confederates, and a common
cause with the monarch.

CHAPTER XLIII.

In the meantime, the emperor compels those
deputies of our party who had been sent from
the council at Ariminum to join in communion
with the heretics. At the same time, he hands
them a confession of faith w^hich had been
drawn up by these wicked men, and which,
being expressed in deceptive terms, seemed to
exhibit the Catholic faith, while unfoithfulness
secretly lay hid in it. For under an appearance
of false reasoning, it abolished the use of the
word Oiisia as being ambiguous, and as having
been too hastily adopted by the fathers, while
it rested upon no Scriptural authority. The
object of this was that the Son might not be
believed to be of one substance with the Father.
The same confession of faith acknowledged that
the Son was like the Father. But deception was
carefully prepared within the words, in order
that he might be like, but not equal. Thus,
the deputies being sent away, orders were given
to the prefect that he should not dissolve the
Synod, until all professed by their subscriptions
their agreement to the declaration of faith which
had been drawn up ; and if any should hold
back with excessive obstinacy, they should be
driven into banishment, provided their number
did not amount to fifteen. But when the depu-
ties returned, they were refused communion,
although they pleaded the force which had been
brought to bear upon them by the king. For
when it was discovered what had been decreed,
greater disturbance arose in their affairs and
purposes. Then by degrees numbers of our
people, partly overcome through the weakness
of their character, and pardy influenced by the
thought of a weary journeying into foreign lands,
surrendered to the opposite party. These were
now, on the return of the deputies, the stronger
of the two bodies, and had taken possession
of the church, our friends being driven out of
it. And when the minds of our people once
began to incline in that direction, they rushed

ii8

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

in flocks over to the other side, until the num-
ber of our friends was diminished down to
twenty.

CHAPTER XLIV.

But these, the fewer they became, showed
themselves all the more powerful ; as the most
steadfast among them was to be reckoned our
friend Foegadius, and Servatio, bishop of the
Tungri. As these had not yielded to threats
and terrors, Taurus assails them with entreaties,
and beseeches them with tears to adopt milder
counsels. He argued that the bishops were
now in the seventh month since they had been
shut up within one city — that no hope of
returning home presented itself to them, worn
out by the inclemency of winter and positive
want ; and what then would be the end ? He
urged them to follow the example of the ma-
jority, and to derive authority for so doing at
least from the numbers who had preceded them.
For Foegadius openly declared that he was pre-
pared for banishment, and for every kind of
punishment that might be assigned him, but
would not accept that confession of faith which
had been drawn up by the Arians. Thus several
days passed in this sort of discussion. And when
they made little progress towards a pacification,
by degrees Foegadius began to yield, and at the
last was overcome by a proposal which was made
to him. For Valens and Ursatius affirmed that
the present confession of faith was drawn up on
the lines of Catholic doctrine, and having been
brought forward by the Easterns at the instiga-
tion of the emperor, could not be rejected with-
out impiety ; and what possible end of strife
could there be if a confession Avhich satisfied
the Easterns was rejected by those of the West?
Finally, if there appeared anything less fully
stated in the present confession than was de-
sirable, they themselves should add what they
thought ought to be added, and that they, for
their part, would acquiesce in those things which
might be added. This friendly profession was
received with favorable minds by all. Nor did
our people venture any longer to make opposi-
tion, desiring as they did in some way or other
now to put an end to the business. Then con-
fessions drawn up by Foegadius and Servatio
began to be published ; and in these first Arius
and his whole unfaithful scheme was condemned,
while the Son of God also was ^ pronounced equal
to the Father, and without beginning, [that is]
without any commencement" in time. Then

' The text is very iincert:iin; we have followed that of Halm,
but the common text inserts a " non," and reads thus: " but the Son
of God is not pronounced equal to the Father, and without begin-
ning," etc.

" " sine tempore."

Valens, as if assisting our friends, subjoined the
statement (in which there lurked a secret guile)
that the Son of God was not a creature like the
other creatures ; and the deceit involved in this
declaration escaped the notice of the hearers.
For in these words, in which the Son was denied
to be like the other creatures, he was neverthe-
less pronounced a creature, only superior to the
rest. Thus neither party could hold that it had
wholly conquered or had wholly been conquered,
since the confession itself was in favor of the
Arians, but the declarations afterwards added
were in favor of our friends. That one, how-
ever, must be excepted which Valens had sub-
joined, and which, not being at the time under-
stood, was at length comprehended when it was
too late. In this way, at any rate, the council
was brought to an end, a council which had a
good beginning but a disgraceful conclusion.

CHAPTER XLV.

Thus, then, the Arians, with their affairs in a
very flourishing condition, and everything turn-
ing out according to their wishes, go in a body
to Constantinople where the emperor was.
There they found the deputies from the Synod
of Seleucia, and compel them by an exercise of
the royal power to follow the example of the
Westerns, and accept that heretical confession
of faith. Numbers who refused were tortured
with painful imprisonment and hunger, so that
at length they yielded their conscience captive.
But many who resisted more courageously,
being deprived of their bishoprics, were driven
into exile, and others substituted in their place.
Thus, the best priests being either terrified by
threats, or driven into exile, all gave way before
the unfaithfulness of a few. Hilarius was there
at the time, having followed the deputies from
Seleucia ; and as no certain orders had been
given regarding him, he was waiting on the will
of the emperor to see whether perchance he
should be ordered to return into banishment.
When he perceived the extreme danger into
which the faith had been brought, inasmuch as
the Westerns had been beguiled, and the East-
erns were being overcome by means of wicked-
ness, he, in three papers publicly i)resented,
begged an audience of the king, in order that
he might debate on points of faith in the pres-
ence of his adversaries. But the Arians opposed
that to the utmost extent of their ability. Fi-
nally, Hilarius was ordered to return to (Jaul, as
being a sower ^ of discord, and a troubler of the
East, while the sentence of exile against him
remained uncanceled. But when he had wan-
dered over almost the whole earth which was in-

' " seminarium " : lit. seed-plot.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

119

fected with the evil of unfaithfuhiess, his mind
was full of doubt and deeply agitated with the
mighty burden of cares which pressed upon it.
Perceiving that it seemed good to many not to
enter into communion with those who had ac-
knowledged the Synod of Ariminum, he thought
the best thing he could do was to bring back all
to repentance and reformation. In frequent
councils within Gaul, and while almost all the
bishops publicly owned the error that had been
committed, he condemns the proceedings at
Ariminum, and frames anew the faith of the
churches after its pristine form. Saturninus,
however, bishop of Aries, who was, in truth, a
very bad man, of an evil and corrupt character,
resisted these sound measures. He was, in fact,
a man who, besides the infamy of being a here-
tic, was convicted of many unspeakable crimes,
and cast out of the Church. Thus, having lost
its leader, the strength of the party opposed to
Hilarius was broken. Paternus also of Petro-
corii,^ equally infatuated, and not shrinking from
openly professing unfaithfulness, was expelled
from the priesthood : pardon was extended to
the others. This fact is admitted by all, that
our regions of Gaul were set free from the guilt
of heresy through the kind efforts of Hilarius
alone. But Lucifer, who was then at Antioch,
tield a very different opinion. For he con-
demned those who assembled at Ariminum to
such an extent, that he even separated him-
self from the communion of those who had
received them as friends, afcer they had made
satisfaction or exhibited penitence. Whether
this resolution of his was right or wrong, I will
not take upon me to say. Paulinus and Rho-
danius died in Phrygia ; Hilarius died in his
native country in the sixth year after his return.

CHAPTER XLVI.

There follow the times of our own day, both
difficult and dangerous. In these the churches
have been defiled with no ordinary evil, and all
things thrown into confusion. For then, for the
first time, the infamous heresy of the Gnostics
was detected in Spain — a deadly ^ supersti-
tion which concealed itself under mystic ^ rites.
The birthplace of that mischief was the East,
and specially Egypt, but from what beginnings
it there sprang up and increased is not easy to
explain. Marcus was the first to introduce it
into Spain, having set out from Egypt, his birth-
place being Memphis. His pupils were a cer-
tain Agape, a woman of no mean origin, and a

^ The modern Peri<;Hi'itx.

^ " superstitio exitiabilis ": the very words which Tacitus em-
ploys, when speaking of Christianity itself {Atnia!. xv. 44).

- " arcanis occultata secretis": it is impossible to say what is
the exact meaning of these words.

rhetorician named Helpidius. By these again
Priscillian was instructed, a man of noble birth,
of great riches, bold, restless, eloquent, learned
through much reading, very ready at debate and
discussion — in fact, altogether a happy man, if
he had not ruined an excellent intellect by
wicked studies. Undoubtedly, there were to
be seen in him many admirable qualities both
of mind and body. He was able to spend much
time in watchfulness, and to endure both hunger
and thirst ; he had little desire for amassing
wealth, and he was most economical in the use
of it. Put at the same time he was a very vain
man, and was much more puffed up than he
ought to have been with the knowledge of mere
earthly ^ things : moreover, it was believed that
he had practised magical arts from his boyhood.
He, after having himself adopted the pernicious
system referred to, drew into its acceptance
many persons of noble rank and multitudes of
the common people by the arts of persuasion
and flattery which he possessed. Besides this,
women who were fond of novelties and of un-
stable faith, as well as of a prurient curiosity in
all things, flocked to him in crowds. It in-
creased this tendency that he exhibited, a kind
of humility in his countenance and manner, and
thus excited in all a greater honor and respect
for himself. And now by degrees the wasting
disorder of that heresy ■* had pervaded the most
of Spain, and even some of the bishops came
under its depraving influence. Among these,
Instantius and Salvianus had taken up the cause
of Priscilhan, not only by expressing their con-
currence in his views, but even by binding them-
selves to him with a kind of oath. This went on
until Hyginus, bishop of Cordova, who dwelt in
the vicinity, found out how matters stood, and
reported the whole to Ydacius, priest of Eme-
rita. But he, by harassing Instantius and his
confederates without measure, and beyond what
the occasion called for, applied, as it were, a
torch to the growing conflagration, so that he
rather exasperated than suppressed these evil
men.

CHAPTER XLVII.

So, then, after many controversies among them,
which are not worthy of mention, a Synod was
assembled at Saragossa, at which even the Aqui-
tanian bishops were present. But the heretics
did not venture to submit themselves to the judg-
ment of the council ; sentence, however, was
passed against them in their absence, and In-
stantius and Salivanus, bishops, with Helpidius
and Priscillian, laymen, were condemned. It
was also added that if any one should admit the

3 " profanarum rerum."

perfidiae istius.'

I20

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

condemned persons to communion, he should
understand that the same sentence would be
pronounced against himself. And the duty was
entrusted to Ithacius, bishop of Sossuba, of
seeing that the decree of the bishops was brought
to the knowledge of all, and that Hyginus es-
pecially should be excluded from communion,
who, though he had been the first to commence
open proceedings against the heretics, had after-
wards fallen away shamefully and admitted them
to communion. In the meantime, Instantius
and Salvianus, having been condemned by the
judgment of the priests, appoint as bishop in the
town of Aries, Priscillian, a layman indeed, but
the leader in all these troubles, and who had
been condemned along with themselves in the
Synod at Saragossa. This they did with the
view of adding to their strength, doubtless im-
agining that, if they armed with sacerdotal au-
thority a man of bold and subtle character, they
would find themselves in a safer position. But
then Ydacius and Ithacius pressed forward their
measures more ardently, in the belief that the
mischief might be suppressed at its beginning.
With unwise counsels, however, they applied to
secular judges, that by their decrees and prose-
cutions the heretics might be expelled from the
cities. Accordingly, after many disgraceful
squabbles, a rescript was, on the entreaty of
Ydacius, obtained from Gratianus, who was then
emperor, in virtue of which all heretics were
enjoined not only to leave churches or cities, but
to be driven forth beyond all the territory under ^
his jurisdiction. When this edict became known,
the Gnostics, distrusting their own affairs, did
not venture to oppose the judgment, but those
of them who bore the name of bishops gave way
of their own accord, while • fear scattered the
rest.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

And then Instantius, Salvianus, and Priscillian
set out for Rome, in order that before Damasus,
who was at that time the bishop of the city, they
might clear themselves of the charges brought
against them. Well, their journey led them
through the heart of Aquitania, and being there
received with great pomp by such as knew no
better, they spread the seeds of their heresy.
Above all, they perverted by their evil teachings
the people of Klusa, who were then of a good
and religious disposition. They were driven
forth from Bordeaux l)y Delfinus, yet lingering
for a little while in the territory of Euchrotia,'
they infected some with their errors. They then
pursued the journey on which they had entered,
attended by a base and shameful company, among

' The text has merely " extra omnes terras."
' Some read Euchrocia, and so afterwards

whom were their wives and even strange women.
In the number of these was Euchrotia and her
daughter Procula, of the latter of whom there
was a common report that, when pregnant through
adultery with Priscillian, she procured abortion
by the use of certain plants. \V'hen they reached
Rome with the wish of clearing themselves be-
fore Damasus, they were not even admitted to
his presence. Returning to Milan, they found
that Ambrose was equally opposed to them.
Then they changed their plans, with the view
that, as they had not got the better of the two
bishops, who were at that time possessed of the
highest authority, they might, by bribery and
flattery, obtain what they desired from the em-
peror. Accordingly, having won over Macedo-
nius, who was the master^ of public services,
they procured a rescript, by which, those decrees
which had formerly been made being trampled
under foot, they were ordered to be restored to
their churches. Relying upon this, Instantius
and Priscillian made their way back to Spain
(for Salvianus had died in the city) ; and they
then, without any struggle, recovered the churches
over which they had ruled.

CHAPTER XLIX.

But the power, not the will, to resist, failed
Ithacius ; for the heretics had won over by bribes
Voluentius, the proconsul, and thus consolidated
their own power. Moreover, Ithacius was put
on his trial, by these men as being a disturber
of the churches, and he having been ordered as
the result of a fierce prosecution, to be carried
off' as a prisoner, fled in terror into Gaul, where
he betook himself to Gregory the prefect. He,
after he learned what had taken place, orders
the authors of these tumults to be brought before
himself, and makes a report on all that had
occurred to the emperor, in order that he might
close against the heretics every means of flattery
or bribery. But that was done in vain ; because,
through the licentiousness and power of a it\4,
all things were there to be purchased. Accord-
ingly, the heretics by their artifices, having
presented Macedonius with a large sum of
money, secure that, by the imperial authority,
the hearing of the trial was taken from the pre-
fect, and transferred to the lieutenant in Spain.
By that time, the Spaniards had ceased to have
a proconsul as ruler, and officials were sent
by the Master to bring back to Spain Ithacius
who was then living at Treves. He, however,
craftily escaped them, and being subsequently de-
fended by the bishop Pritannius, he set them at

2 " magistro officionim."

1 This appears to be the meaning, but the text is obscure.

THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

121

defiance. Then, too, a foint" rumor had spread
that Maximus had assumed imperial power in
Britain, and would, in a short time, make an
incursion into Gaul. Accordingly, Ithacius then
resolved, although his affairs were in a ticklish
state, to wait the arrival of the new emperor ;
and that, in the meantime, no step should on
his part be taken. When therefore Maximus,
as victor, entered the town of the Treveri, he
poured forth entreaties full of ill-will and accusa-
tions against Priscillian and his confederates.
The emperor influenced by these statements,
sent letters to the prefect of Gaul and to the
lieutenant in Spain, ordering that all whom that
disgraceful '^ heresy had affected should be
brought to a Synod at Bordeaux. Accordingly,
Instantius and Priscillian were escorted thither,
and, of these, Instantius was enjoined to plead
his cause ; and after he was found unable to
clear himself, he was pronounced unworthy of
the office of a bishop. But Priscillian, in order
that he might avoid being heard by the bishops,
appealed to the emperor. And that was per-
mitted to be done through the want of resolution
on the part of our friends, who ought either to
have passed a sentence even against one who
resisted it, or, if they were regarded as them-
selves suspicious persons, should have reserved
the hearing for other bishops, and should not
have transferred to the emperor a cause involv-
ing such manifest offences.

CHAPTER L.

Thus, then, all whom the process embraced
were brought before the king. The bishops
Ydacius and Ithacius followed as accusers ; and
I would by no means blame their zeal in over-
throwing heretics, if they had not contended
for victory with greater keenness than was fitting.
And my feeling indeed is, that the accusers were
as distasteful to me as the accused. I certainly
hold that Ithacius had no worth or holiness
about him. For he was a bold, loquacious,
impudent, and extravagant man ; excessively
devoted to the pleasures of sensuality. He
proceeded even to such a pitch of folly as to
charge all those men, however holy, who either
took delight in reading, or made it their object
to vie with each other in the practice of fasting,
with being friends or disciples of Priscillian.
The miserable wretch even ventured publicly to
bring forward a disgraceful charge of heresy
against Martin, who was at that time a bishop,
and a man clearly worthy of being compared to
the Apostles. For Martin, being then settled at
Treves, did not cease to importune Ithacius,

^ " clemens " : some read " Clementen." and join it with " Max-
imum." -i "labesilla."

that he should give up his accusations, or to
implore Maximus that he should not shed the
blood of the unhappy persons in question. He
maintained that it was quite sufficient punish-
ment that, having been declared heretics by a
sentence of the bishops, they should have been
expelled from the churches ; and that it was,
besides,- a foul and unheard-of indignity, that a
secular ruler should be judge in an ecclesiastical
cause. And, in fact, as long as Martin survived,
the trial was put off; while, when he was about
to leave this world, he, by his remarkable influ-
ence, obtained a promise from Maximus, that
no cruel measure would be resolved on with
respect to the guilty persons. But subsequently,
the emperor being led astray by Magnus and
Rufus, and turned from the milder course which
Martin had counseled, entrusted the case to the
prefect Evodius, a man of stern and severe
character. He tried Priscillian in two assemblies,
and convicted him of evil conduct. In fact,
PrisciUian did not deny that he had given him-
self up to lewd doctrines ; had been accustomed
to hold, by night, gatherings of vile women,
and to pray in a state of nudity. Accordingly,
Evodius pronounced him guilty, and sent him
back to prison, until he had time to consult
the emperor. The matter, then, in all its de-
tails, was reported to the palace, and the em-
peror decreed that Priscillian and his friends
should be put to death.

CHAPTER LI.

But Ithacius, seeing how much ill-Vvill it
would excite against him among the bishops, if
he should stand forth as accuser also at the last
trial on a capital charge (for it was requisite that
the trial should be repeated), withdrew from the
prosecution. His cunning, however, in thus
acting was in vain, as the mischief was already
accomplished. Well, a certain Patricius, an ad-
vocate connected with the treasury, was then
appointed accuser by Maximus. Accordingly,
under him as prosecutor, Priscillian was con-
demned to death, and along with him, Felicissi-
mus and Armenius, who, when they were clerics,
had lately adopted the cause of Priscillian, and
revolted from the Catholics. Latronianus, too,
and Euchrotia were beheaded. Instantius, who,
as we have said above, had been condemned by
the bishops, was transported to the island of
Sylina^ which lies beyond Britain. A process
was then instituted against the others in trials
which followed, and Asarivus, and Aurelius the
deacon, were condemned to be beheaded, while
Tiberianus was deprived of his goods, and ban-

' Halm prefers the form " Sylinancim" to " Sylinam." The ref-
erence is probably to the Scilly Isles.

122

THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

ished to the island of Sylina. Tertullus, Pota-
mius, and Joannes, as being persons of less con-
sideration, and worthy of some merciful treat-
ment, inasmuch as before the trial they had
made a confession, both as to themselves and
their confederates, were sentenced to a tem-
porary banishment into Gaul. In this sort of
way, men who were most unworthy of the light
of day, were, in order that they might serve as
a terrible example to others, either put to death
or punished with exile. That conduct ^ which
he had at first defended by his right of appeal
to the tribunals, and by regard to the public
good, Ithacius, harassed'^ with invectives, and
at last overcome, threw the blame of upon
those, by whose direction and counsels he had
effected his object. Yet he was the only one of
all of them who was thrust out of the episcopate.
For Ydacius, although less guilty, had voluntarily
resigned his bishopric : that was wisely and
respectfully done, had he not afterward spoiled
the credit of such a step by endeavoring to re-

2 The meaning seems to be, that Ithacius being blamed for bring-
ing accusations against his brethren, at first defended his conduct by
an appeal to the laws and the public weal, both of which justified
the prosecution of heretics; but being at last driven from this posi-
tion, he turned round and cast the blame upon those for whom
he had acted.

3 Some read " solitus," instead of " soUicitus."

cover the position which had been lost. Well,
after the death of Priscillian, not only was the
heresy not suppressed, which, under him, as its
author, had burst forth, but acquiring strength,
it became more widely spread. For his follow-
ers who had previously honored him as a saint,
subsequently began to reverence him as a mar-
tyr. The bodies of those who had been put to
death were conveyed to Spain, and their funerals
were celebrated with great pomp. Nay, it came
to be thought the highest exercise of religion to
swear by Priscillian. But between them and
our friends, a perpetual war of quarreling has
been kept up. And that conflict, after being
sustained for fifteen years with horrible dissen-
sion, could not by any means be set at rest.
And now all things were seen to be disturbed
and confused by the discord, especially of the
bishops, while everything was corrupted by them
through their hatred, partiality, fear, faithless-
ness, envy, factiousness, lust, avarice, pride,
sleepiness, and inactivity. In a word, a large
number were striving with insane plans and ob-
stinate inclinations against a few giving wise
counsel : while, in the meantime, the people of M
God, and all the excellent of the earth were ™
exposed to mockery and insult.

THE COMMONITORY

VINCENT OF LERINS,

FOR THE ANTIQUITY AND UNIVERSALITY OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH
AGAINST THE PROFANE NOVELTIES OF ALL HERESIES:

TRANSLATED BY

THE REV. C. A. HEURTLEY, D.D.,

THE LADY MARGARET'S PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,

AND CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION 127

Chapter I. — The Object of the Following Treatise 131

Chapter II. — A General Rule for distinguishing the Truth of the Catholic Faith from the

Falsehood of Heretical Pravity 132

Chapter III. — A difficulty solved 133

Chapter IV. — The evil resulting from the introduction of Novel Doctrine exemplified in the

instances of the Donatists and Arians 133

Chapter V. — The Example of the Martyrs whom no force could deter from maintaining the

Faith of their Predecessors 134

Chapter VI. — The example of Pope Stephen in resisting the Iteration of Baptism 134

Chapter VII. — How Heretics craftily cite obscure passages in ancient writers in support of

their novelties 136

Chapter VIII. — Exposition of St. Paul's words, Gal. i 136

Chapter IX. — St. Paul's warning to the Galatians a warning to all 137

Chapter X. — Why God permits Eminent I\Ien to become Authors of Novelties 137

Chapter XI. — The words of Moses, Deut. xiii. i, exemplified in the History of the Church . . 138

Chapter XII. — The Heresies of Photinus, Apollinaris, and Nestorius 139

Chapter XI 1 1. — The Catholic Doctrine of the Trinity and of the Incarnation 140

Chapter XIV. — Jesus Christ very Man 141

Chapter XV. — The Word took our Nature in the Womb of the Blessed Virgin, whence She is

truly " Theotocos," the Mother of God 142

Chapter XVI. — Recapitulation of Chapters XIII., XIV., and XV 143

Chapter XVI I. — The Error of Origen a great Trial to the Church 143

Chapter XVIII. — TertuUian 145

Chapter XIX. — The Lessons taught by the foregoing Examples 145

Chapter XX. — The Characteristics of a true Catholic 146

Chapter XXI. — Exposition of i Tim. vi. 20 146

Chapter XXII. — The same continued 147

Chapter XXIII. — Of Development in Religious Doctrine 147

Chapter XXIV. — Renewed consideration of i Tim. vi. 20 149

Chapter XXV. — Heretics appeal to Scripture 150

Chapter XXVI. — Following therein the example of Satan 151

Chapter XXVII. — Rule for the Interpretation of Scripture 152

Chapter XXVIII. — Rules for the Detection of Heretical Novelties 152

Chapter XXIX. — Recapitulation of the subject matter of both Commonitories 153

Chapter XXX. — The Council of Ephesus 154

Chapter XXXI. — The Example set by the Fathers of the Council of Ephesus 155

Chapter XXXII. — The Example of Popes Celestine and Sixtus 155

Chapter XXXIII. — Conclusion 156

INTRODUCTION.

Very little is known of the author of the following Treatise. He writes under the
assumed name of Peregrinus, but Gennadius of Marseilles,^ who flourished a.d. 495, some
sixty years after its date, ascribes it to Vincentius, an inmate of the famous monastery of
Le'rins, in the island of that name,^ and his ascription has been universally accepted.

Vincentius was of Gallic nationality. In earlier life he had been engaged in secular
pursuits, whether civil or military is not clear, though the term he uses, "secularis militia,"
might possibly imply the latter. He refers to the Council of Ephesus, held in the summer
and early autumn of 431, as having been held some three years previously to the time at
which he was writing "ante triennium ferme. "^ This gives the date of the Commonitory
434. Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, was still living.^ Sixtus the Third had succeeded to
the See of Rome;^ his predecessor, Celestine, having died in 432. Gennadius says that
Vincentius died, "Theodosio et Valentiniano regnantibus." ® Theodosius died, leaving
Valentinian still reigning, in July, 450. Vincentius' death, therefore, must have occurred in
or before that year.

Baronius places his name in the Roman Martyrology, Tillemont doubts whether with
sufficient reason.'^ He is commemorated on the 24th of May.

Vincentius has been charged with Semipelagianism. Whether he actually held the
doctrine which was afterwards called by that name is not clear. Certainly the express
enunciation of it is nowhere to be found in the Commonitory. But it is extremely probable
that at least his sympathies were with those who held it. For not only does he omit the
name of St. Augustine, who was especially obnoxious to them, when making honorable
mention at any time of the champions of the faith, but he denounces his doctrine, though
under a misrepresentation of it, as one of the forms of that novel error which he reprobates.^
Indeed, whoever will compare what he says in § 70 of the heresy which he describes but
forbears to name, with Prosper's account of the charges brought against Augustine by
certain Semipelagian clergymen of Marseilles,^ will have little doubt that Vincentius and
they had the same teacher in view, and were of the same mind with regard to his teaching.

^ De Scriptorilnis Ecclesiasticis. Gennadius's work is to be found at the end of the second vohime of Vallarsius's edition of St.
Jerome's works. •

2 Now St. Honorat, so called from St. Honoratus, the founder of the monastery.

The monastery seems at first to have consisted of an aggregation of separate cells, each of which, according to the usage of that time,
would be called a" monasterium." "Totaubique insula, exstructis ceUulis, unum velut monasterium evasit." — Cardinal NoRls, //is/on
Peliig. p. 251. "Monasterium potest unius monachi habitaculum nominari." — Cassian. Collat. xvii. i8.

Among its more prominent members, contemporary with Vincentius, were Honoratus and Hilary, afterwards successively bishops of
Aries, and Faustus, afterwards bishop of Riez, all of them in sympathy with the neighbouring clergy of Marseilles, opposed to St. Augustine's
later teaching, and holding what %vas afterwards called Semipelagian doctrine.

The adjoining islet of St. Marguerite, one of the L^rins group, has acquired notoriety of late, from having been the place to which Mar-
shal Bazaine, the betrayer of Metz, was banished in 1873.

' § 79- ■• § 80. 5 § 85. = De Illustr. Eccles. Scrip, c. 84. ' xv, p. 146.

' Cardinal Noris does not hesitate to say of him, " Non mode Semipelagianum se prodit, sed disertis verbis Augustiui discipulos
tanquam haereticos traducit." — //ir/orii Pelagiana, p. 245. See below. Appendix II.

^ See Prosper's letter to Augustine in Augustine's works, Ep. 225, Tom. ii. Ed. Paris, 1836, etc.

127

128 INTRODUCTION.

Be this however as it may, when it is considered that the monks of Lerins, in common with
the general body of the churchmen of Southern Gaul, were strenuous upholders of Semipela-
■ gianism, it will not be thought surprising that Vincentius should have been suspected of at
least a leaning in that direction. Tillemont, who forbears to express himself decidedly, but
evidently inclines to that view, says "L'opinion qui le condamne et I'abandonne aux Semi-
pelagiens passe aujourd'hui pour la plus commune parmi les savans."^

It has been matter of question whether Vincentius is to be credited with the authorship
of the "Objectiones Vincentianae," a collection of Sixteen Inferences alleged to be dedu-
cible from St. Augustine's writings, which has come down to us in Prosper's Reply.

Its date coincides so nearly with that of the Commonitory as to preclude all doubt
as to the identity of authorship on that score,- and it must be confessed that its animus
and that of the 70th and 86th sections of the Commonitory are too much in keeping to make
it difficult to believe that both are from the same pen.

ViNCENTius's object in the following treatise is to provide himself, as he states, with a
general rule whereby to distinguish Catholic truth from heresy; and he commits what he has
learnt, he adds, to writing, that he may have it by him for reference as a Commonitory, or
Remembrancer, to refresh his memory.

This rule, in brief, is the authority of Holy Scripture. By that all questions must be
tried in the first instance. And it would be abundantly sufficient, but that, unfortunately,
men differ in the interpretation of Holy Scripture. The rule, therefore, must be supple-
mented by an appeal to that sense of Holy Scripture which is supported by universality,
antiquity, and consent: by universality, when it is the faith of the whole Church; by
antiquity, when it is that which has been held from the earliest times; by consent, when it
has been the acknowledged belief of all, or of almost all, whose office and character gave
authority to their determinations. This is the famous "Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab
omnibus," with which Vincentius's name is associated." ' The body of the work is taken
up with its illustration and application.

The work consisted originally of two books; but unfortunately the second was lost, or
rather, as Gennadius says, was stolen, while the author was still alive; and there remains
to us nothing but a recapitulation of its contents, which the authour, unwilling to encounter
the labour of re-writing the whole, has drawn up.*

In prosecution of his purpose Vincentius proceeds to show how his rule applies for the
detection of error in the instances of some of the more notorious heretics and schismatics
who up to his time had made havoc of the Church, — the Donatists and the Arians, for
instance, and the maintainers of the iteration of Baptism; and how the great defenders of
the Faith were guided in their maintenance of the truth by its observance.^

But the perplexing question occurs: Wherefore, in God's providence, were persons,
eminent for their attainments and their piety, such as Photinus, Apollinaris, and Nestorius,
permitted to fall into heresy ?° To which the answer is. For the Church's trial. And
Vincentius proceeds to show, in the case of each of these, how great a trial to the Church
his fall was. This leads him to give an account of their erroneous teaching severally,'' from
which he turns aside for a while to expound the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity as opposed
to the heresy of Photinus, and of the Incarnation as opposed to the heresies of Apollinaris
and Nestorius, in an exposition remarkable for its clearness and precision.* It contains so
much in common with the so-called Athanasian Creed, both as to the sentiments and the

' T. XV. p. 146.

' The Objectiones Vinccntiana; must have been published at some time between the publication of St. Augustine's Antipelagian Treatises
and the death of Prosper. They are to be found in Prosper's Reply, contained in St. Augustine's works, Appendix, Tom. x. coll. 2535
ei seq. Paris, 1836, etc.

* § 6. « §5 77-8S. '^ §§ 9 -f??- * §§ 27 iqq- '' §§ 32 sqq- ^ §§ 36 sqq.

INTRODUCTION. 129

lant^uao-e, that some have inferred from it, that Vincentius was the author of that Formu-
lary.^

Returning- from this digression, Vincentius proceeds, after promising to deal with these
subjects more fully on a future occasion,'^ to two other very signal instances of heretical
defection caused by the disregard of antiquity and universality; those of Origen^and
Tertullian,'* of both of whom he draws a vivid picture, contrasting them, such as they were
before their fall with what they became afterwards, and enlarging on the grievous injury to
the Church generally, and the distressing trial to individuals in particular, consequent
upon their defection.

But it will be asked. Is Christian doctrine to remain at a standstill? Is there to be
no progresss, as in other sciences?^ Undoubtedly there is to be progress; but it must be
real progress, analogous, for instance, to the growth of the human body from infancy to
childhood, from childhood to mature age; or to the development of a plant from the seed
to the full-grown vegetable or tree; it must be such as the elucidation of what was before
obscure, the following out into detail of what was before expressed only in general terms,®
not the addition of new doctrine, not the rejection of old.

One difficulty which is not unlikely to perplex a simple Christian is the readiness with
which heretics appeal to Scripture, following therein the example of their arch-leader, who,
in his temptation of our Lord, dared to' make use of arms drawn from that armoury.'' This
leads to the question. How are we to ascertain the true sense of Scripture ? And, in the
answer to it, to a more detailed exposition of the general rule given at the outset.

Scripture, then, must be interpreted in accordance with the tradition of the Catholic
Church, our guide being antiquity, universality, consent.

With regard to antiquity, that interpretation must be held to which has been handed
down from the earliest times; with regard to universality, that which has always been held,
if not by all, at least by the most part, in preference to that which has been held only by a
few; with regard to consent, the determination of a General Council on any point will of
course be of summary authority, and will hold the first place; next to this, the interpre-
tation which has been held uniformly and persistently by all those Fathers, or by a majority
of them, who have lived and died in the communion of the Catholic Church. Accordingly,
whatsoever interpretation of Holy Scripture is opposed to an interpretation thus authenti-
cated, even though supported by the authority of one or another individual teacher, how-
ever eminent, whether by his position, or his attainments, or his piety, or by all of these
together, must be rejected as novel and unsound.

Here the first Commonitory ends; but it ends with a promise of a still further and more
detailed inquiry, to be prosecuted in the Commonitory which is to follow, into the way in
which the opinions of the ancient Fathers are to be collected, and the rule of faith deter-
mined in accordance with them.

Unfortunately that promise, however fulfilled according to the author's intention, has
been frustrated to his readers. The second Commonitory, as was said above, was lost, or
rather stolen, and all that remains to us is a brief and apparently partial recapitulation of
its contents and of the contents of the preceding.

' Antelmi, Nova de Sytnbolo Athanasiaiio Disquisitio. See the note on § 42, Appendix I.

42-

^ §§ 44-4''j- M 47- ' § 55-

s §§ 55-60. For instances in point, he might have referred to the enlargement and expansion of the earlier Creed, first in the Nicene,
afterward in the Constantinopolitan Formulary. Tims, in the Definition of the Faith of the Council of Chalcedon, the Fathers are careful
to explain that they are making no addition to the original deposit, but simply unfolding and rendering more nitelligible what before had
been less distinctly set forth : " Teaching in its fulness the doctrine which from the beginning hath remained unshaken, it decrees, in the
first place, that the Creed of the 318 (the original Nicene Creed) remain untouched; and on account of those who impugn the Holy Spirit,
it ratifies and confirms the doctrine subsequently delivered, concerning the essence of the Holy Spirit, by the hundred and fifty holy
Fathers, (the Constantinopolitan Creed), which they promulgated for universal acceptance, not as though they were supplying some
omission of their predecessors, but testifying in express words in writing their own minds concerning the Holy Spirit.

' §§ 65 Sqg.

I30 INTRODUCTION.

In this Vincentius repeats the rule for ascertaining the Catholic doctrine which he had
laid down at the outset, enlarging especially upon the way in which the consent of the
Fathers is to be arrived at, and illustrating what he says by the course pursued by the
Council of Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius, — how the Fathers of the Council, instead
of resting upon their own judgment, eminent as many of them were, collected together the
opinions of the most illustrious of their predecessors, and following their consentient belief,
determined the question before them. To this most noteworthy example he adds the
authority of two bishops of Rome, Sixtus III., then occupying the Papal Chair, and
Celestine, his immediate predecessor, — the gist of the whole being the confirmation of the
rule which it had been his object to enforce throughout the Treatise — that profane novel-
ties must be rejected, and that faith alone adhered to which the universal Church has held
consentiently from the earliest times, Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus.

V '

A COMMONITORY'

FOR THE ANTIQUITY AND UNIVERSALITY OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH
AGAINST THE PROFANE NOVELTIES OF ALL HERESIES.

CHAPTER L

The Object of the Following Treatise.

[i.] I, Peregrinus,- who am the least of all
the servants of God, remembering the admo-
nition of Scripture, "Ask thy fathers and
they will tell thee, thine elders and they will
declare mito thee, "^ and again, "Bow down
thine ear to the words of the wise,"^ and
once more, " My son, forget not these instruc-
tions, but let thy heart keep my words: "^
remembering these admonitions, I say, I, Pere-
grinus, am persuaded, that, the Lord helping
me, it will be of no little use and certainly as
regards my own feeble powers, it is most neces-
sary, that I should put down in writing the
things which I have truthfully received from
the. holy Fathers, since I shall then have ready
at hand wherewith by constant reading to make
amends for the weakness of my memory.

[2.] To this I am incited not only by
regard to the fruit to be expected from my
laijour but also by the consideration of time
and the opportuneness of place :

By the consideration of time, — for seeing
that time seizes upon all things human, we
also in turn ought to snatch from it some-
thing which may profit us to eternal life,

' CoMMONiTORY. I have retained the original title in its angli-
cised form, already familiar to English ears in connection with the
name of Vincentius. Its meaning, as he uses it, is indicated suffi-
ciently, in § 3, " An aid to memory." Technically, it meant a Paper
of Instructions given to a person charged with a commission, to assist
his memory as to its details.

2 Peregrinus. It does not appear why Vincentius writes under an
assumed name. Vossius, with whom Cardinal Noris evidently agrees,
supposes that his object was to avoid openly avowing himself the author
of a work which covertly attacked St. Augustine. Vossius, Histor.
Pelag. p. 40. Ego quidem ad Vossii sententiam plane accessissem,
nisi tot delats a sapientissimis Scriptoribus Commonitorio laudes
religionem mihi pene injecissent. —Noris, Histor. Pelag. p. 246.

" Deut. xxxii. 7.

* Prov. xxii. 17.

^ Prov. lii. I.

especially since a certain awful expectation of
the approach of the divine judgment importu-
nately demands increased earnestness in reli-
gion,'while the subtle craftiness of new heretics
calls for no ordinary care and attention.

I am incited also by the opportuneness of
place, in that, avoiding the concourse and
crowds of cities, I am dwelling in the seclu-
sion of a Monastery, situated in a remote
grange,® where, I can follow without distrac-
tion the Psalmist's^ admonition, "Be still,
and know that I am God."

Moreover, it suits well with my purpose
in adopting this life; for, whereas I was at
one time involved in the manifold and de-
plorable tempests of secular warfare, I have
now at length, under Christ's auspices, cast
anchor in the harbour of religion, a harbour
to all always most safe, in order that, having
there been freed from the blasts of vanity and
pride, and propitiating God by the sacrifice
of Christian humility, I may be able to
escape not only the shipwrecks of the present
life, but also the flames of the world to come.

[3.] But now, in the Lord's name, I will
set about the object I have in view; that is to
say, to record with the fidelity of a narrator
rather than the presumption of an author, the
things which our forefathers have handed
down to us and committed to our keeping,
yet observing this rule in what I write, that I

c Noris, from this word, " villula," a grange or country house,
concludes that Vincentius, at the time of writing, though a monk,
was not a monk of Lerins, for there could be no "villula there
then, Honoratus having found the island desolate and without
inhabitant, when he settled on it but a few years previously, vacan-
tem insulam ob nimictatem squaloris, et inaccessam venenatorum
animalium metu." Histor. Pelag. p. 251. Why, however, may not
the " villula " have been built subsequently to Honoratus s settlement,
and indeed, as a i*rt of it? Whether Vincentius was an inmate of
the monastery of Lerins at the time of writing the Commonitory or
not, he was so eventually, and died there.

" Ps. xlvi. 10.

132

VINCENT OF LERINS.

shall by no means touch upon everything that
might be said, but only upon what is neces-
sary ; nor yet in an ornate and exact style, but
in simple and ordinary language,^ so that the
most part may seem to be intimated, rather
than set forth in detail. Let those cultivate
elegance and exactness who are confident of
their ability or are moved by a sense of duty.
For me it will be enough to have provided a
CoMMONiTORY (or Remembrancer) for myself,
such as may aid my memory, or rather^ pro-
vide against my forgetfulness : which same
Commonitory however, I shall endeavor, the
Lord helping me, to amend and make more
complete by little and little, day by day, by
recalling to mind what I have learnt. I men-
tion this at the outset, that if by chance what
I write should slip out of my possession and
come into the hands of holy men, they may for-
bear to blame anything therein hastily, when
they see that there is a promise that it will yet
be amended and made more complete.

CHAPTER IL

A General Rule for distinguishing the Truth of the Catholic
Faith from the Falsehood of Heretical Pravity.

[4.] I HAVE often then inquired earn-
estly and attentively of very many men
eminent for sanctity and learning, how and
by what sure and so to speak universal rule
I may be able to distinguish the truth of
Catholic faith from the falsehood of heretical
pravity; and I have always, and in almost
every instance, received an answer to this
effect : That whether I or any one else should
wish to detect the frauds and avoid the snares
of heretics as they rise, and to continue sound
and complete in the Catholic faith, we must,
the Lord helping, fortify our own belief in
two ways; first, by the authority of the Divine
Law, and then, by the Tradition of the Catholic
Church.

[5.] But here some one perhaps will ask,
Since the canon of Scripture is complete, and
sufficient of itself for everything, and more
than sufficient, what need is there to join with
it the authority of the Church's interpretation?
For this reason, — because, owing to the depth
of Holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one
and the same sense, but one understands its
words in one way, another in another; so that
it seems, to be capable of as many interpreta-
tions as there are interpreters. For Novatian
expounds it one way, Sabellius another, Dona-
tus another, Arius, Eunomius, Macedonius,
i

^ " II dit qu'il I'avoulu ^crire d'un style facile et commun, sans le
vouloir oriier et polir; et je voudrois que les ouvrac;es qu'on a pris le
plus de peine 4 polir dans ce siecle (le 4me) et dans le suivant, resscm-
blassent a celui-ci." — Tilkmonl, T. xv. p. 144.

another, Photinus, Apollinaris, Priscillian, an-
other, lovinian, Pelagius, Celestius, another,
lastly, Nestorius another. Therefore, it is very
necessary, on account of so great intricacies
of such various error, that the rule for the
right understanding of the prophets and apos-
tles should be framed in accordance with
the standard of Ecclesiastical and Catholic
interpretation.

[6.] Moreover, in the Catholic Church
itself, all possible care must be taken, that we
hold that faith which has been believed every-
where, always, by all. For that is truly and
in the strictest sense "Catholic," which, as
the name itself and the reason of the thing
declare, comprehends all universally. This
rule we shall observe if we follow universality,
antiquity, consent. We shall follow univer-
sality if we confess that one faith to be true,
which the whole Church throughout the world
confesses; antiquity, if we in no wise depart
from those interpretations which it is manifest
were notoriously held by our holy ancestors
and fathers; consent, in like manner, if in
antiquity itself we adhere to the consentient
definitions and determinations of all, or at the
least of almost all priests and doctors.

CHAPTER in.

What is to be done if one or more dissent from the rest.

[7.] What then will a Catholic Christian
do, if a small portion of the Church have cut
itself off from the communion of the universal
faith? What, surely, but prefer the sound-
ness of the whole body to the unsoundness
of a pestilent and corrupt member? What,
if some novel contagion seek to infect not
merely an insignificant portion of the Church,
but the whole? Then it will be his care to
cleave to antiquity, which at this day cannot
possibly be seduced by any fraud of novelty.

[8.] But what, if in antiquity itself there be
found error on the part of two or three men,
or at any rate of a city or even of a province?
Then it will be his care by all means, to
prefer the decrees, if such there be, of an
ancient General Council to the rashness and
ignorance of a few. But what, if some error
should spring up on which no such decree is
found to bear? Then he must collate and
consult and interrogate the opinions of the
ancients, of those, namely, who, though living
in divers times and places, yet continuing
in the communion and faith of the one
Catholic Church, stand forth acknowledged
and approved authorities : and whatsoever he
shall ascertain to have been held, written,
taught, not by one or two of these only, but

A COMMONITORY.

133

by all, equally, with one consent, openly,
frequently, persistently, that he must under-
stand that he himself also is to believe with-
out any doubt or hesitation.

CHAPTER IV.

The evil resulting from the bringing in of Novel Doctrine shown
in the instances of the Donatists and Arians.

[9.] But that we may make what we say
more intelligible, we must illustrate it by
individual examples, and enlarge upon it
somewhat more fully, lest by aiming at too
great brevity important matters be hurried
over and lost sight of.

In the time of Donatus,^ from whom his
followers were called Donatists, when great
numbers in Afric2l were rushing headlong into
their own mad error, and unmindful of their
name, their religion, their profession, were pre-
ferring the sacrilegious temerity of one man
before the Church of Christ, then they alone
throughout Africa were safe within the sacred
precincts of the Catholic faith, who, detest-
ing the profane schism, continued in com-
munion with the universal Church, leaving to
posterity an illustrious example, how, and
how well in future the soundness of the whole
body should be preferred before the madness
of one, or at most of a few.

[10.] So also when the Arian poison had
infected not an insigniftcant portion of the
Church but almost the whole world,'- so that

1 There were two persons of this name, both intimately connected
with the schism,— the earlier one, bishop of Casa Nigra in Numidia,
the other the successor of Majorinus, whom in the year 311 the party
had elected to be bishop of Carthage in opposition to Cecilian, the
Catholic bishop, the ground of the opposition being that the princi-
pal among Cecilian's consecrators lay under the charge of having
delivered up the sacred books to the heathen magistrates in the
Dioclesian persecution, and of having thereby rendered his ministerial
acts invalid. It was from the last-mentioned probably that the sect
was called.

The Donatists affected great strictness of life, and ignoring the
plain declarations of Scripture, and notably the prophetic representa-
tions contained in our Lord's parables of the Tares, the Draw-net, and
others, they held that no church could be a true church which endured
the presence of evil men in its society. Accordingly they broke off
communion with the rest of the African Church and with all who
held communion with it, which was in effect the rest of Christendom,
denying the validity of their sacraments, rebaptizing those who came
over to them from other Christian bodies, and reordaining their clergy.
The sect became so powerful that for some time it formed the
stronger partv in the church of North Western Africa, its bishops
exceeding four hundred in number; but partly checked through the
exertions of Augustine in the first years of the fifth century, and of
Pope Gregorv the Great at the close of the sixth, and partly weakened
by divisions among themselves, they dwindled away and became
extinct. • ■ ■ r

' The rise of Arianism was nearly contemporaneous with that 01
Donatism. It originated with Arius, a presbyter of Alexandria, a man
of a subtle wit and a fluent tongue. He began by calling in question
the teaching of his bishop, when discoursing on a certain occasion
on the subject of the Trinity. For himself he denied our blessed
Lord's coeternitv and consubstantiality with the Father, which was in
effect to deny that He is God in any true sense, though he made no
scruple of giving Him the name. His doctrine may be best inferred
from the anathema directed against it, appended to the original
Nicene Creed: "Those who say, that once the Son of God did not
exist, and that before He was begotten He did not exist, or who
affirm that He is of a different substance or essence (from that of the
Father), or that His nature is mutable or alterable, those the Catholic
and Apostolic Church anathematises."

a sort of blindness had fallen upon almost all
the bishops^ of the Latin tongue, circum-
vented partly by force partly by fraud, and
was preventing them from seeing what was
most expedient to be done in the midst of so
much confusion, then whoever was a true
lover and worshipper of Christ, preferring the
ancient belief to the novel misbelief, escaped
the pestilent infection.

[11.] By the peril of which time was
abundantly shown how great a calamity the
introduction of a novel doctrine causes. For
then truly not only interests of small account,
but others of the very gravest importance, were
subverted. For not only affinities, relation-
ships, friendships, families, but moreover,
cities, peoples, provinces, nations, at last
the whole Roman Empire, were shaken to
their foundation and ruined.

For when this same profane Arian novelty,
like a Bellona or a Fury, had first taken
captive the Emperor,-* and had then subjected
all the principal persons of the palace to new
laws, from that time it never ceased to involve
everything in confusion, disturbing all things,
public and private, sacred and profane, pay-
ing no regard to what was good and true, but,
as though holding a position of authority,
smiting whomsoever it pleased. Then wives
were violated, widows ravished, virgins pro-
faned, monasteries demolished, clergymen
ejected, the inferior clergy scourged, priests
driven into exile, jails, prisons, mines, filled
with saints, of whom the greater part, for-
bidden to enter into cities, thrust forth from
their homes to wander in deserts and caves,
among rocks and the haunts of wild beasts,
exposed to nakedness, hunger, thirst, were
worn out and consumed. Of all of which
there any other cause than

was

that, while

Arianism spread with great rapidity ; and though condemned by
the Council of Nic«a in 325, it gained fresh strength on the death
of Constantine and the accession of Constantius, so that for many
years thenceforward the history of the Church is occupied with noth-
ing so much as with accounts of its struggle for supremac;,-.

" Arians and Donatists began both about one time, which heresies,
according to the different strength of their own sinews, wrought, as
the hope of success led them, the one with the choicest wits, the
other with the multitude, so far, that after long and troublesome
experience, the perfectest view that men could take of both was
hardly able to induce any certain determinate resolution, wliether
error may do more by the curious subtlety of sharp discourse, or else
by the mere appearance of zeal and devout affection. —Hooker,
Eccles. Pol. V. 62. § S. . r u J .1 V,

3 The Catholic bishops, in number more than four hundred, who
at Ariminum, in 359, after having subscribed the Creed of Nicia,
were induced, partly by fraud, partly by threats, to repudiate its
crucial terms and sign an Arian Formulary. It was in reference to
this that St. Jerome wrote, " Ingemuit orbis, et Arium seesse miratus
est" " The world groaned and marvelled to find Itself Arian. He
continues, " The vessel of the apostles was in extreme danger. The
storm raged, the waves beat upon the ship, all hope was gone 1 he
Lord awakes, rebukes the tempest, the monster (Constantius) dies,
tranquillity is restored. The bishops who had been thrust out from
their sees return, through the clemency of the new emperor. Ihen
did Eg^'pt receive Athanasius in triumph, then did the Church of
Gaul receive Hilary returning from battle, then did Italy put off her
mourning garments at the return of Eusebius (of Veicellx). —A dvers.
Lucifer ianos, § 10.

♦ Constantius, the Emperor of the West.

134

VINCENT OF LERINS.

human superstitions are being brought in to
supplant heavenly doctrine, while well estab-
lished antiquity is being subverted by wicked
novelty, while the institutions of former ages
are being set at naught, while the decrees of
our fathers are being rescinded, while the de-
terminations of our ancestors are being torn in
pieces, the lust of profane and novel curiosity
refuses to restrict itself within the most
chaste limits of hallowed and uncor'rupt
antiquity? ^

CHAPTER V.

The Example set us by the Martyrs, whom no force could
hinder from defending the Faith of their Predecessors.

[i2.] But it may be, we invent these
charges out of hatred to novelty and zeal for
antiquity. Whoever is disposed to listen to
such an insinuation, let him at least believe
the blessed Ambrose, who, deploring the acer-
bity of the time, says, in the second book of
his work addressed to the Emperor Gratian : -
"Enough now, O God Almighty! have we
expiated with our own ruin, with our own
blood, the slaughter of Confessors, the banish-
ment of priests, and the wickedness of such
extreme impiety. It is clear, beyond ques-
tion, that they who have violated the faith
cannot remain in safety."

And again in the third book of the same
work,^ "Let us observe the precepts of our
predecessors, and not transgress with rude
rashness the landmarks which we have in-
herited • from them. That sealed Book of
Prophecy no Elders, no Powers, no Angels,
no Archangels, dared to open. To Christ
alone was reserved the prerogative of explain-
ing it.* Who of us may dare to unseal the
Sacerdotal Book sealed by Confessors, and
consecrated already by the martyrdom of
numbers, which they who had been compelled
by force to unseal afterwards resealed, con-
demning the fraud which had been practised

' Though Vincentius' account of the Arian persecutions refers to
those under the Arian emperors, Coiistantius and Valens, the former
especially, yet he could not but have had in mind the atrocious cruel-
ties which were bein^; perpetrated, at the time when he was writing,
by the Arian Vandals in Africa. Possidius, in his lite of St. Augustine,
who lay on his death-bed in Hippo while the fierce Vandal host was
encamped round the city (c. xxviii.), gives a detailed account of them,
belongmg to a date some four years earlier, entirely of a piece with
Vincentius' description in the text. Victor, bishop of Vite, himself a
sufferer, has left a still am))ler relation, De Persecutioiie Vandalorum.

- St. Ambrose. De Fide, 1. 2, c. 15, § 141. See also St. Jerome
adv. Luci/eriunos, § 19.

^ Ibid. 1. 3, § 12S, St. Ambrose speaks of the Gothic war as a
judgment upon Valens, both for his Arianism and for his persecution
of the Catholics. He had permitted the Goths to cross the Danube,
and settle in Thrace and the adjoining parts, with the understanding
that they should embrace Christianity in its Arian form. They had
now turned against him, and Gratian was on the eve of setting out
to carry aid to him. St. Ambrose's book, De Fide, was written to
confirm Gratian in the Catholic faith, in view especially of the Arian
influence to which he niiyht be subjected in his intercourse with
Valens. Vahns was kilLd the following year, 37S, at the battle of
Adrianople.

* Rev. v. 1-5.

upon them; while they who had not ventured
to tamper with it proved themselves Con-
fessors and martyrs? How can we deny the
faith of those whose victory we proclaim? "

[13.] We proclaim it truly, O venerable
Ambrose, we proclaim it, and applaud and
admire. For who is there so demented, who,
though not able to overtake, does not at least
earnestly desire to follow those whom no
force could deter from defending the faith of
their ancestors, no threats, no blandishments,
not life, not death, not the palace, not the
Imperial Guards, not the Emperor, not the
empire itself, not men, not demons? — whom,
I say, as a recompense for their steadfastness
in adhering to religious antiquity, the Lord
counted worthy of so great a reward, that by
their instrumentality He restored churches
which had been destroyed, quickened with
new life peoples who were spiritually dead,
replaced on the heads of priests the crowns
which had been torn from them, washed out
those abominable, I will not say letters, but
blotches (non liferas, sed lituras) of novel impi-
ety, with a fountain of believing tears, which
God opened in the hearts of the bishops ? —
lastly, when almost the whole world was over-
whelmed by a ruthless tempest of unlooked
for heresy, recalled it from novel misbelief to
the ancient faith, from the madness of novelty
to the soundness of antiquity, from the blind-
ness of novelty to pristine light?

[14.] But in this divine virtue, as we may
call it, exhibited by these Confessors, we must
note especially that the defence which they
then undertook in appealing to the Ancient
Church, was the defence, not of a part, but of
the whole body. For it was not right that
men of such eminence should uphold with so
huge an effort the vague and conflicting
notions of one or two men, or should exert
themselves in the defence of some ill-advised
combination of some petty province; but
adhering to the decrees and definitions of the
universal priesthood of Holy Church, the
heirs of Apostolic and Catholic truth, they
chose rather to deliver up themselves than to
betray the faith of universality and antiquity.
For which cause they were deemed worthy of
so great glory as not only to be accounted
Confessors, but rightly and deservedly to be
accounted foremost among Confessors.

CHAPTER VL

The example of Pope Stephen in resisting the Iteration of

Baptism.

[15.] Great then is the example of these
same blessed men, an example plainly divine,
and worthy to be called to mind, and medi-

A COM MONITORY.

135

tated upon continually by every true Catho-
lic, who, like the seven-branched candlestick,
shining with the sevenfold light of the Holy
Spirit, showed to posterity how thenceforward
the audaciousness of profane novelty, in all
the several rantings of error, might be crushed
by the authority of hallowed antiquity.

Nor is there anything new in this? For
it has always been the case in the Church,
that the more a man is under the influ-
ence of religion, so much the more prompt
is he to oppose innovations. Examples there
are without number: but to be brief, we
will take one, and that, in preference to
others, from the Apostolic See,^ so that it
may be clearer than day to every one with
how great energy, with how great zeal, with
how great earnestness, the blessed successors
of the blessed apostles have constantly de-
fended the integrity of the religion which
they have once received.

[16.] Once on a time then, Agrippinusj^
bishop of Carthage, of venerable memory,
held the doctrine — and he was the first who
held it — that Baptism ought to be repeated,
contrary to the divine canon, contrary to the
rule of the universal Church, contrary to the
customs and institutions of our ancestors.
This innovation drew after it such an amount
of evil, that it not only gave an example of
sacrilege to heretics of all sorts, but proved
an occasion of error to certain Catholics
even.

When then all men protested against the
novelty, and the priesthood everywhere, each
as his zeal prompted him, opposed it. Pope
Stephen of blessed memory. Prelate of the
Apostolic See, in conjunction indeed with his
colleagues but yet himself the foremost, with-
stood it, thinking it right, I doubt not, that
as he exceeded all others in the authority of
his place, so he should also in the devotion
of his faith. In fine, in an epistle sent at
the time to Africa, he laid down this rule :
"Let there be no innovation — nothing but
what has been handed down."* For that

1 "The Apostolic see " (Sedes Apostolica) here means Rome
of course. But the title was not restricted to Rome. It was com-
mon to all sees which could claim an apostle as their Founder.
Thus St. Augustine, suggesting a rule for determining what books are
to be regarded as Canonical, says, " In Canonicis Scripturis Eccle-
siarum. Catholicarum quamplurium auctoritatem sequatur, inter quas
sane illae sint qus Apostolicas Sedes habere et Epistolas accipere
meruerunt." "Let him follow the authority of those Catholic
Churches which have been counted worthy to have Apostolic Sees;
i.e., to have been founded by Apostles, and to have been the recipi-
ents of Apostolic Epistles." -^Z)^ Doctr. Christiana, 11. § 13. But
the title, even in St. Augustine's time, had even a wider meaning.
" Anciently every bishop's see was dignified with the title of Sedes
Apostolica, which in those days was no peculiar title of the bishop
of Rome, but given to all bishops in general, as deriving their
origin and counting their succession from the apostles." — Bingham,
Antiq. II., c. 2, § 3.

^ Agrippinus. See note 4, below.

^ Stephen's letter has not come down to us, happily perhaps for

holy and prudent man well knew that true
piety admits no other rule than that whatso-
ever things have been faithfully received
from our fathers the same are to be faithfully
consigned to our children; and that it is our
duty, not to lead religion whither we would,
but rather to follow religion whither it leads;
and that it is the part of Christian modesty
and gravity not to hand down our own beliefs
or observances to those who come after us,
but to preserve and keep what we have
received from those who went before us.
What then was the issue of the whole matter.'
What but the usual and customary one?
Antiquity was retained, novelty was rejected.

[17.] But it may be, the cause of innovation
at that time lacked patronage. On the con-
trary, it had in its favor such powerful talent,
such copious eloquence, such a number of
partisans, so much resemblance to truth, such
weighty support in Scripture (only interpreted
in a novel and perverse sense), that it seems
to me that that whole conspiracy could not
possibly have been defeated, unless the sole
cause of this extraordinary stir, the very
novelty of what was so undertaken, so de-
fended, so belauded, had proved wanting to
it. In the end, what result, under God,
had that same African Council or decree?'*
None whatever. The whole aft'air, as though
a dream, a fable, a thing of no possible
account, was annulled, cancelled, and trodden
underfoot.

[18.] And O marvellous revolution! The
authors of this same doctrine are judged
Catholics, the followers heretics; the teachers
are absolved, the disciples condemned; the
writers of the books will be children of the
Kingdom, the defenders of them will have
their portion in Hell. For who is so de-
mented as to doubt that that blessed light
among all holy bishops and martyrs, Cyprian,
together with the rest of his colleagues, will
reign with Christ; or, who on the other
hand so sacrilegious as to deny that the
Donatists and those other pests, who boast
the authority of that council for their iteration
of baptism, will be consigned to eternal fire
with the devil? ^

his credit, judging by the terms in which Cyprian speaks of it in the
letter in which he quotes the passage in the text. — Ad Pompeian,
Ep. 74.

* The Council held under the presidency of Cyprian in 256. Its
acts are contained in Cyprian's works, Ed. Fell. pp. 15S, etc. An
earlier council had been held in the same city m the beginning of the
century under .Agrippinus. Both had affirmed the necessity of
rebaptizing heretics, or, as they would rather have said, of baptizing
them. The controversy was set at rest by a decision of the council
of Aries, in 314, which ordered, in its Eighth Canon, that if the bap-
tism had been administered in the name of the Trinity, converts
should be admitted simply by the imposition of hands that they might
receive the Holy Ghost.

'i See Hooker's reference to this passage. — Eccles. Pol. v, 62, § g.

136

VINCENT OF LERINS.

CHAPTER VII.

How Heretics, craftily cite obscure passages in ancient
writers in support of their own novelties.

[19.] This condemnation, indeed,^ seems
to have been providentially promulgated as
though with a special view to the fraud of those
who, contriving to dress up a heresy under a
name other than its own, get hold often of the
works of some ancient writer, not very clearly
expressed, which, owing to the very obscurity
of their own doctrine, have the appearance of
agreeing with it, so that they get the credit
of being neither the first nor the only persons
who have held it. This wickedness of theirs,
in my judgment, is doubly hateful: first,
because they are not afraid to invite others to
drink of the poison of heresy; and secondly,
because with profane breath, as though fanning
smouldering embers into tlame, they blow upon
the memory of each holy man, and spread an
evil report of what ought to be buried in silence
by bringing it again under notice, thus tread-
ing in the footsteps of their father Ham, who
not only forebore to cover the nakedness
of the venerable Noah, but told it to the
others that they might laugh at it, offend-
jng thereby so grievously against the duty of
filial Ipiety, that even his descendants were
involved with him in the curse which he drew
down, widely differing from those blessed
brothers of his, who would neither pollute
their own eyes by looking upon the nakedness
of their revered father, nor would suffer others
to do so, but went backwards, as the Scrip-
ture says, and covered him, that is, they neither
approved nor betrayed the fault of the holy
man, for which cause they were rewarded
with a benediction on themselves and their
posterity.^

[20.] But to return to the matter in hand:
It behoves us then to have a great dread of
the crime of perverting the faith and adulter-
ating religion, a crime from which we are
deterred not only by the Church's discipline,
but also by the censure of apostolical author-
ity. For every one knows how gravely, how
severely, how vehemently, the blessed apostle
Paul inveighs against certain, who, with mar-
vellous levity, had " been so soon removed from
him who had called them to the grace of Christ
to another Gospel, which was not another; "'^
"who had heaped to themselves teachers
after their own lusts, turning away their ears
from the truth, and being turned aside unto
fables;"^ "having damnation because they

1 The condemnation of St. Cyprian's practice of rebaptism.
* (len. ix. 22.
s Gal. I. 6.

had cast off their first faith; "^ who had
been deceived by those of whom the same
apostle writes to the Roman Christians,
"Now, I beseech you, brethren, mark them
which cause divisions and offences, contrary
to the doctrine which ye have learned, and
avoid them. For they that are such serve
not the Lord Christ, but their own belly, and
by good words and fair speeches deceive the
hearts of the simple ; " ^ " who enter into
houses, and lead captive silly women laden
with sins, led away with diverse lusts, ever
learning and never able to come to the know-
ledge of the truth;"' "vain talkers and
deceivers, who subvert whole houses, teaching
things which they ought not, for filthy lucre's
sake ; " ^ " men of corrupt minds, reprobate
concerning the faith; "^ "proud knowing
nothing, but doting about questions and strifes
of words, destitute of the truth, supposing
that godliness is gain," ^° "withal learning to
b'e idle, wandering about from house to house,
and not only idle, but tattlers also and busy-
bodies, speaking things which they ought
not," " "who having put away a good con-
science .have made shipwreck concerning the
faith ;"^'' "whose profane and vain babblings
increase unto more ungodliness, and their
word doth eat as doth a cancer." ^^ Well,
also, is it written of them: "But they shall
proceed no further: for their folly shall b,e
manifest unto all men, as their's also was.""

CHAPTER VIII.

Exposition of St. Paul's Words, Ga/. i. 8.

[21.] When therefore certain of this sort
wandering about provinces and cities, and
carrying with them their venal errors, had
found their way to Galatia, and when the
Galatians, on hearing them, nauseating the
truth, and vomiting up the manna of Apos-
tolic and Catholic doctrine, were delighted
with the garbage of heretical novelty, the
apostle putting in exercise the authority of
his ofiice, delivered his sentence with the
utmost severity, "Though we," he says, "or
an angel from heaven, preach any other Gospel
unto you than that which we have preached
unto you, let him be accursed." ^^

, [22.] Why does he say "Though we"?
why not rather " though I " ? He means,
"though Peter, though Andrew, though John,

* 2 Tim. iv. 3, 4.
5 I Tim. V. 12.
" Rom. xvi. 17, 18.
' 2 Tim. iii. 6.
8 Tit. i. 10.
» 2 Tim. iii. 8.

'" I Tim. vi. 4.
*' I Tim. V. ij.
*- I Tim. i. ig.
" 2 Tim. ii. i6, 17.
** 2 Tim. iii. 9.
w Gal. i. 8.

A COMMONITORY.

137

in a word, though the whole company of
apostles, preach unto you other than we have
preached unto you, let him be accursed."
Tremendous severity! He spares neither
himself nor his fellow apostles, so he may
preserve unaltered the faith which was at first
delivered. Nay, this is not all. He goes on:
" Even though an angel from heaven preach
unto you any other Gospel than that which
we have preached unto you, let him be
accursed." It was not enough for the preser-
vation of the faith once delivered to have
referred to man; he must needs comprehend
angels also. "Though we," he says, "or an
angel from heaven." Not that the holy
angels of heaven are now capable of sinning.
But what he means is : Even if that were to
happen which cannot happen, — if any one, be
he who he may, attempt to alter the faith
once for all delivered, let him be accursed.

[23.] But it may be, he spoke thus in the
first instance inconsiderately, giving vent to
human impetuosity rather than expressing
himself under divine guidance. Far from
it. He follows up what he had said, and
urges it with intense reiterated earnestness,
"As we said before, so say I now again, If
any man preach any other Gospel to you
than that ye have received, let him be
accursed." He does not say, "If any man
deliver to you another message than that you
have received, let him be blessed, praised,
welcomed," — no; but " let him be accursed,"
\anafhema\ i.e., separated, segregated, ex-
cluded, lest the dire contagion of a single
sheep contaminate the guiltless flock of Christ
by his poisonous intermixture with them.

. CHAPTER IX.

His warning to the Galatians a warning to all.

[24.] But, possibly, this warning was
intended for the Galatians only. Be it so ;
then those other exhortations which follow in
the same Epistle were intended for the Gala-
tians only, such as, " If we live in the Spirit,
let us also walk in the Spirit; let us not
be desirous of vain glory, provoking one
another, envying one another," etc. ; ^ which
alternative if it be absurd, and the injunctions
were meant equally for all, then it follows,
that as these injunctions which relate to
morals, so those warnings which relate to faith
are meant equally for all ; and just as it is
unlawful for all to provoke one another, or to
envy one another, so, likewise, it is unlawful

1 Gal. V. 2S-

for all to receive any other Gospel than that
which the Catholic Church preaches every-
where.

[25.] Or perhaps the anathema pronounced
on any one who should preach another Gospel
than that which had been preached was
meant for those times, not for the present.
Then, also, the exhortation, "Walk in the
Spirit and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the
flesh," ^ was meant for those times, not for
the present. But if it be both impious and
pernicious to believe this, then it follows
necessarily, that as these injunctions are to be
observed by all ages, so those warnings also
which forbid alteration of the faith are warn-
ings intended for all ages. To preach any doc-
trine therefore to Catholic Christians other
than what they have received never was lawful,
never is lawful, never will be lawful: and to
anathematize those who preach anything other
than what has once been received, always was
a duty, always is a duty, always will be a duty.

[26.] Which being the case, is there any
one either so audacious as to preach any
other doctrine than that which the Church
preaches, or so inconstant as to receive any
other doctrine than that which he has received
from the Church? That elect vessel, that
teacher of the Gentiles, that trumpet of the
apostles, that preacher whose commission
was to the whole earth, that man who was
caught up to heaven,^ cries and cries again in
his Epistles to all, always, in all places, "If
any man preach any new doctrine, let him be
accursed." On the other hand, an ephemeral,
moribund set of frogs, fleas, and flies, such as
the Pelagians, call out in opposition, and
that to Catholics, "Take our word, follow our
lead, accept our exposition, condemn what
you used to hold, hold what you used to
condemn, cast aside the ancient faith, the
institutes of your fathers, the trusts left for
you by your ancestors and receive instead,
— what? I tremble to utter it: for it is so full
of arrogance and self-conceit, that it seems
to me that not only to affirm it, but even to
refute it, cannot be done without guilt in
some sort.

CHAPTER X.

Why Eminent Men are permitted by God to become Authors
of Novelties in the Church.

[27.] But some one will ask. How is it
then, that certain excellent persons, and of
position in the Church, are often permitted
by God to preach novel doctrines to
Catholics? A proper question, certainly,

Gal. V. 16.

' 2 Cor. xii. 2.

1^.8

VINCENT OF LERINS.

and one which ought to be very carefully
and fully dealt with, but answered at the
same time, not in reliance upon one's own
ability, but by the authority of the divine
Law, and by appeal to the Church's deter-
mination.

Let us listen, then, to Holy Moses, and let
him teach us why learned men, and such as
because of their knowledge are even called
Prophets by the apostle, are sometimes per-
mitted to put forth novel doctrines, which the
Old Testament is wont, by way of allegory,
to call " strange gods," forasmuch as heretics
pay the same sort of reverence to their notions
that the Gentiles do to their gods.

[28.] Blessed Moses, then, writes thus in
Deuteronomy : ^ ''If there arise among you a
prophet or a dreamer of dreams," that is, one
holding office as a Doctor in the Church, who
is believed by his disciples or auditors to
teach by revelation: well, — what follows?
"and giveth thee a sign or a wonder, and the
sign or the wonder come to pass whereof he
spake," — he is pointing to some eminent
doctor, whose learning is such that his fol-
lowers believe him not only to know things
human, but, moreover, to foreknow things
superhuman, such as, their disciples commonly
boast, were Valentinus, Donatus, Photinus,
Apollinaris, and the rest of that sort! What
next? "And shall say to thee, Let us go after
other gods, whom thou knowest not, and serve
them." What are those other gods but strange
errors which thou knowest not, that is, new
and such as were never heard of before ? " And
let us serve them;" that is, "Let us believe
them, follow them." What last? "Thoushalt
not hearken to the words of that prophet or
dreamer of dreams." And why, I pray thee,
does not God forbid to be taught what God
forbids to be heard? "For the Lord, your
God, trieth you, to know whether you love Him
with all your heart and with all your soul."
The reason is clearer than day why Divine
Providence sometimes permits certain doctors
of the Churches to preach new doctrines —
"That the Lord your God may try you," he
says. And assuredly it is a great trial when
one whom thou believest to be a prophet, a
disciple of prophets, a doctor and defender of
the truth, whom thou hast folded to thy breast
with the utmost veneration and love, when
such a one of a sudden secretly and furtively
brings in noxious errrors, which thou canst
neither quickly detect, being held by the
prestige of former authority, nor lightly think
it right to condemn, being prevented by affec-
tion for thine old master.

' Deut. xiii. i. etc.

CHAPTER XL

Examples from Church History, confirming the words of
Moses, — Nestorius, Photinus, ApoUinaris.

[29.] Here, perhaps, some one will require
us to illustrate the words of holy Moses by
examples from Church History. The demand
is a fair one, nor shall it wait long for satis-
faction.

For to take first a very recent and very
plain case: what sort of trial, think we, was
that which the Church had experience of the
other day, when that unhappy Nestorius,^ all
at once metamorphosed from a sheep into a
wolf, began to make havoc of the flock of
Christ, while as yet a large proportion of
those whom he was devouring believed him
to be a sheep, and consequently were the
more exposed to his attacks ? For who would
readily suppose him to be in error, who was
known to have been elected by the high choice
of the Emperor, and to be held in the greatest
esteem by the priesthood? who would readily
suppose him to be in error, who, greatly
beloved by the holy brethren, and in high
favor with the populace, expounded the Scrip-
tures in public daily, and confuted the
pestilent errors both of Jews and Heathens?
Who could choose but believe that his teach-
ing was Orthodox, his preaching Orthodox,
his belief Orthodox, who, that he might
open the way to one heresy of his own, was
zealously inveighing against the blasphemies
of all heresies? But this was the very thing
which Moses says : " The Lord your God doth
try you that He may know whether you love
Him or not."

[30.] Leaving Nestorius, in whom there
was always more that men admired than they
were profited by, more of show than of reality,
whom natural ability, rather than divine
grace, magnified for a time in the opinion of
the common people, let us pass on to speak
of those who, being persons of great attain-
ments and of much industr}', proved no small
trial to Catholics. Such, for instance, was
Photinus, in Pannonia,^ who, in the memory

2 Nestorius was a native of Germanicia, a town in the patriarchate
of .-^ntioch, of which Cluirch lie bi.canie a Presbyter. On the See of
Constantinople becoming vacant by the death of Sisinnius, the
Emperor Theodosius sent for him and caused him to be consecrated
Archbishop. He was at tirst extremely popular, and so eloquent that
people said of him (what was nuich to be said of a successor of
Chrysostom), that there had never before been such a bishop. He
was condenmed by the Council of Ephesus, in 431. The emperor,
after ordering him to return to the monastery to which he formally
belonged, eventually banished him to the great Oasis, whence he
was harried from place to place till death put an end to his suffer-
ings, in 440. F.ziagrius, i. 7.

3 I'hotinus, bishop of Sirmium in Pannonia, was a native of
Galatia, and a disciple of .Marcelhis of Ancyra. Bishop Pearson (on
the Creed, Art. 11) has an elaborate note, in which he collects
together many notices of him left by the ancients. These agree with
Vincentius in representing him as a man of extraordinan,- abilitv and
of consummate eloquence. His heresy consisted in the denial of

A COMMONITORY.

139

of our fathers, is said to have been a trial
to the Church of Sirmium, where, when he
had been raised to the priesthood with uni-
versal approbation, and had discharged the
office for some time as a Catholic, all of a
sudden, like that evil prophet or dreamer of
dreams w'hom Moses refers to, he began to
persuade the people whom God had intrusted
to his charge, to follow "strange gods," that
is, strange errors, which before they knew not.
But there was nothing unusual in this: the
mischief of the matter was, that for the perpe-
tration of so great wickedness he availed
himself of no ordinary helps. For he
was of great natural ability and of powerful
eloquence, and had a wealth of learning,
disputing and writing copiously and forcibly
in both languages, as his books which remain,
composed partly in Greek, partly in Latin,
testify. But happily the sheep of Christ
committed to him, vigilant and wary for the
Catholic faith, quickly turned their eyes to
the premonitory words of Moses, and, though
admiring the eloquence of their prophet and
pastor, were not blind to the trial. For from
thenceforward they began to flee from him as
a w^olf, whom formerly they had followed as
the ram of the flock.

[31.] Nor is it only in the instance of
Photinus that we learn the danger of this
trial to the Church, and are admonished
withal of the need of double diligence in
guarding the faith. Apollinaris^ holds out a
like warning. For he gave rise to great
burning questions and sore peplexities among
his disciples, the Church's authority drawing
them one way, their Master's influence the
opposite; so that, wavering and tossed hither
and thither between the two, they were at a
loss what course to take.

But perhaps he was a person of no weight
of character. On the contrary, he was so
eminent and so highly esteemed that his word
would only too readily be taken on whatsoever
subject. For what could exceed his acute-

our blessed Lord's divine nature, whom he regarded as man, and
nothing more, xpi^oi avdpi^-rros, and as having had no existence
before his birth of the Virgin. He was condemned in several synods,
the fifth of which, a Council of the Western bishops, held at Sir-
mium, in 350, deposed him. But in spite of the deposition, so great
was his popularity, that he could not even yet be removed. The
following year however he was by another council, held at the same
place, again condemned, and sent into banishment. He died in
Galatia, in 377. See Cave, /iist. Lit., who refers with praise to a
learned dissertation on Photinus by Larroque.

* ApoUinaris the younger (a contemporary of Photinus), bishop
of Laodicea in Syria, was one of the most distinguished men of the
age in which he lived. Epiphanius (Har. Ixxvii. 2), referring to his
fall into heresy, says that when it first began to be spoken of, people
would hardly credit it, so great was the estimation in which he was
held. His heresy, which consisted in the denial of the verity of our
Lord's human nature, the Divine Word supplying the place of the
rational soul, and in the assertion that his fiesh was not derived from
the Virgin, but was brought down from heaven, was condemned by
the Council of Constantinople, in 381 (Canon L). It was in reference
to the latter form of it that the clause "of the Holy Ghost and the
Virgin Mary " was inserted in the Nicene Creed.

ness, his adroitness, his learning? How
many heresies did he, in many volumes, anni-
hilate ! How many errors, hostile to the
faith, did he confute! A proof of which is
that most noble and vast work, of not less
than .thirty books, in which, with a great
mass of arguments, he repelled the insane
calumnies of Porphyry.^ It would take a
long time to enumerate all his works, which
assuredly would have placed him on a level
with the very chief of the Church's builders,
if that profane lust of heretical curiosity had
not led him to devise I know not what novelty
which as though through the contagion of a sort
of leprosy both defiled all his labours, and
caused his teachings to be pronounced the
Church's trial instead of the Church's edifi-
cation.

CHAPTER Xn.

A fuller account of the Errors of Photinus, ApoUinaris
and Nestorius.

[32.] Here, possibly, I maybe asked for
some account of the above mentioned
heresies; those, namely, of Nestorius, Apol-
linaris, and Photinus. This, indeed, does
not belong to the matter in hand : for our ob-
ject is not to enlarge upon the errors of indi-
viduals, but to produce instances of a few, in
whom the applicability of Moses' words may
be evidently and clearly seen; that is to
say, that if at any time some Master in
the Church, himself also a prophet in inter-
preting the mysteries of the prophets, should
attempt to introduce some novel doctrine
into the Church of God, Divine Providence
permits this to happen in order to try us. It
will be useful, therefore, by way of digres-
sion, to give a brief account of the opin-
ions of the above-named heretics, Photinus,
ApoUinaris, Nestorius.

[^Z-l The heresy of Photinus, then, is as
follows: He says that God is singular and
sole, and is to be regarded as the Jews
regarded Him. He denies the completeness
of the Trinity, and does not believe that
there is any Person of God the Word, or any
Person of the Holy Ghost. Christ he affirms
to be a mere man, whose original was from
Mary. Hence he insists with the utmost
obstinacy that we are to render worship only
to the Person of God the Father, and that we
are to honour Christ as man only. This is the
doctrine of Photinus.

[34.] ApoUinaris, affecting to agree with the
Church as to the unity of the Trinity, though

' This work, of which St. Jerome speaks in high terms {de Viris
Illusir., c. 104), has not come down to us, nor indeed have his other
writings, except in fragments.

140

VINCENT OF LERINS.

not this even with entire soundness of belief,^
as to the Incarnation of the Lord, blas-
phemes openly. For he says that the flesh
of our Saviour was either altogether devoid of
a human soul, or, at all events, was devoid
of a rational soul. Moreover, he says that
this same flesh of the Lord was not received
from the flesh of the holy Virgin Mary, but
came down from heaven into the Virgin ; and,
ever wavering and undecided, he preaches
one while that it was co-eternal with God the
Word, another that it was made of the divine
nature of the Word. For, denying that there
are two substances in Christ, one divine,
the other human, one from the Father, the
other from his mother, he holds that the very
nature of the Word was divided, as though
one part of it remained in God, the other was
converted into flesh : so that whereas the truth
says that of two substances there is one
Christ, he affirms, contrary to the truth, that
of the one divinity of Christ there are become
two substances. This, then, is the doctrine
of Apollinaris.

[35.] Nestorius, whose disease is of an
opposite kind, while pretending that he holds
two distinct substances in Christ, brings in of
a sudden two Persons, and with unheard of
wickedness would have two sons of God, two
Christs, — one, God, the other, man, one, be-
gotten of his Father, the other, born of his
mother. For which reason he maintains that
Saint Mary ought to be called, not Thcotocos
(the mother of God), but Christotocos (the
mother of Christ), seeing that she gave birth
not to the Christ who is God, but to the
Christ who is man. But if any one supposes
that in his writings he speaks of one Christ,
and preaches one Person of Christ, let him
not lightly credit it. For either this is a
crafty device, that by means of good he may
the more easily persuade evil, according to
that of the apostle, "That which is good
was made death to me,'"^ — either, I say, he
craftily affects in some places in his writ-
ings to believe one Christ and one Person of
Christ, or else he says that after the Virgin
had brought forth, the two Persons were
united into one Christ, though at the time of
her conception or parturition, and for some
short time afterwards, there were two Christs;
so that forsooth, though Christ was born at
first an ordinary man and nothing more, and
not as yet associated in unity of Person with
the Word of God, yet afterwards the Person
of the Word assuming descended upon Him;
and though now the Person assumed remains

' " Et hoc ipsum non plena fitlei sanitate." — Tlie Cambridge
Ed., 1687, with Baluzius's notes appended, reads, " et hoc ipsum plena
fidei sanctitate."

• Rom. vii. 13.

in the glory of God, yet once there would
seem to have been no difference between
Him and all other men.

CHAPTER XHL

The Catholic Doctrine of the Trinity and the Incarnation

explained.

[36.] In these ways then do these rabid
dogs, Nestorius, Apollinaris, and Photinus,
bark against the Catholic faith: Photinus,
by denying the Trinity; Apollinaris, by teach-
ing that the nature of the Word is mutable, and
refusing to acknowledge that there are two
suSstances in Christ, denying moreover either
that Christ had a soul at all, or, at all events,
that he had a rational soul, and asserting that
the Word of God supplied the place of the
rational soul; Nestorius, by affirming that there
were always or at any rate that once there
were two Christs. But the Catholic Church,
holding the right faith both concerning God
and concerning our Saviour, is guilty of blas-
phemy neither in the mystery of the Trinity,
nor in that of the Incarnation of Christ. For
she worships both one Godhead in the plenitude
of the Trinity, and the equality of the Trinity
in one and the same majesty, and she confesses
one Christ Jesus, not two ; the same both God
and man, the one as truly as the other.^
One Person indeed she believes in Him, but
two substances; two substances but one
Person : Two substances, because the Word
of God is not mutable, so as to be converti-
ble into flesh ; one Person, lest by acknow-
ledging two sons she should seem to worship
not a Trinity, but a Quaternity

[37.] But it will be well to unfold this same
doctrine more distinctly and explicitly again
and again.

In God there is one substance, but three
Persons; in Christ two substances, but one
Person. In the Trinity, another and another
Person, not another and another substance
(distinct Persons, not distinct substances) ; *
in the Saviour another and another substance,
not another and another Person, (distinct
substances, not distinct Persons. How in
the Trinitv another and another Person
(distinct Persons) not another and another
substance (distinct substances) ? '" Because
there is one Person of the Father, another

' Unum Christum Jesum non duos, eundemque Deum pariter
atque Hominem confitetur. Compare the Athauasian Creed, " Est
ergo fides recta et credamus et confiteamur, quia Dominus Noster
Jesus Christus. Dei Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est."

* In Trinitnte alius atque alius, non aliud atque aliud. In Salvatore
aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius.

6 Aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius.

A COMMONITORY.

141

of the Son, another of the Holy Ghost;'
but yet there is not another and another
nature (distinct natures) but one and the
same nature. How in the Saviour another
and another substance, not another and an-
other Person (two distinct substances, not
two distinct Persons) ? Because there is one
substance of the Godhead, another of the
manhood. But yet the Godhead and the
manhood are not another and another Person
(two distinct Persons), but one and the same
Christ, one and the same Son of God, and
one and the same Person of one and the
same Christ and Son of God, in like manner
as in man the flesh is one thing and the soul
another, but one and the same man, both soul
and flesh. In Peter and Paul the soul is
one thing, the flesh another; yet there are not
two Peters, — one soul, the other flesh, or two
Pauls, one soul, the other flesh, — but one and
the same Peter, and one and the same Paul, con-
sisting each of two diverse natures, soul and
body. Thus, then, in one and the same Christ
there are two substances, one divine, the
other human ; one of (ex) God the Father, the
other of (ex) the Virgin Mother; one co-
eternal with and co-equal with the Father, the
other temporal and inferior to the Father;
one consubstantial with his Father, the other
consubstantial with his Mother, but one and
the same Christ in both substances. There
is not, therefore, one Christ God, the other
man, not one uncreated, the other created;
not one impassible, the other passible; not
one equal to the Father, the other inferior to
the Father; not one of his Father (ex), the
other of his Mother (ex), but one and the same
Christ, God and man, the same uncreated and
created, the same unchangeable and incapable
of sufifering, the same acquainted by experi-
ence with both change and suffering, the same
equal to the Father and inferior to the Father,
the same begotten of the Father before time,
("before the world"), the same born of his
mother in time ("in the world "),^ perfect
God, perfect Man. In God supreme divinity,
in man perfect humanity. Perfect humanity,
I say, forasmuch as it hath both soul and
flesh; the flesh, very flesh; our flesh, his
mother's flesh; the soul, intellectual, endowed
with mind and reason. There is then in
Christ the Word, the soul, the flesh; but the
whole is one Christ, one Son of God, and

' Quia scilicet alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti
sed tamen Patris et Filii et .Spiritus Sancti non alia et alia sed una
cadunque natnra. So the Athanasian Creed, " Alia est enim Persona
Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti, sed Patris et Filii et Spiritus
Sancti una est Divinitas, etc." The coincidence between the whole
of this context and the Athanasian Creed is very observable, though
the agreement is not always exact to the very letter.

- Idem ex Patre ante sscula genitus. Idem in sxculo ex matre
generatus. Compare the Athanasian Creed, " Deus est ex substantia
Patris ante s^cula genitus; Homo ex substantia Matns in sjecuIo
natus." See Appendix I.

one our Saviour and Redeemer: One, not by I
know not what corruptible confusion of God-
head and manhood, but by a certain entire and
singular unity of Person. For the conjunc-
tion hath not converted and changed the one
nature into the other, (which is the character-
istic error of the Arians), but rather hath in
such wise compacted both into one, that while
there always remains in Christ the singularity
of one and the self-same Person, there abides
eternally withal the characteristic property of
each nature; whence it follows, that neither
doth God (i.e., the divine nature) ever begin
to be body, nor doth the body ever cease to be
body. The which maybe illustrated in human
nature: for not only in the present life, but
in the future also, each individual man will
consist of soul and body; nor will his body
ever be converted into soul, or his soul into
body; but while each individual man will
live for ever, the distinction between the two
substances will continue in each individual
man for ever. So likewise in Christ each
substance will for ever retain its own char-
acteristic property, yet without prejudice to
the unity of Person.

CHAPTER XIV.

Jesus Christ Man in Truth, not in Semblance.

[38.] But when we use the word '"Person,"
and say that God became man by means of a
Person, there is reason to fear that our mean-
ing may be taken to be, that God the Word
assumed our nature merely in imitation, and
peformed the actions of man, being man not
in reality, but only in semblance, just as in a
theatre, one man within a brief space repre-
sents several persons, not one of whom him-
self is. For when one undertakes to sustain
the part of another, he performs the ofiices, or
does the acts, of the person whose part he sus-
tains, but he is not himself that person. So,
to take an illustration from secular life and
one in high favour with the Manichees, when
a tragedian represents a priest or a king, he is
not really a priest or a king. For, as soon as
the play is over, the person or character whom
he represented ceases to be. God forbid that
we should have anything to do with such nefa-
rious and wicked mockery. Be it the infatu-
ation of the Manichees, those preachers of
hallucination, who say that the Son of God,
God, was not a human person really and truly,
but that He counterfeited the person of a man
in feigned conversation and manner of life.

[39.] But the Catholic Faith teaches that
the Word of God became man in such wise,
that He took upon Him our nature, not feign-

142

VINCENT OF LERINS.

edly and in semblance, but in reality and
truth, and performed human actions, not as

thoutrh He were

imitating

the actions of

another, but as performing His own, and as
being in reality the person whose part He
sustained. Just as we ourselves also, when
we speak, reason, live, subsist, do not imitate
men, but are men. Peter and John, for in-
stance, were men, not by imitation, but by
being men in reality. Paul did not counter-
feit an apostle, or feign himself to be Paul,
but was an apostle, was Paul. So, also, that
which God the Word did, in His condescen-
sion, in assuming and having flesh, in speak-
ing, acting, and suffering, through the instru-
mentality of flesh, yet without any marring
of His own divine nature, came in one word
to this: — He did not imitate or feign Himself
to be perfect man, but He shewed Himself to
be very man in reality and truth. There-
fore, as the soul united to the flesh, but yet
not changed into flesh, does not imitate man,
but is man, and man not feignedly but sub-
stantially, so also God the Word, without any
conversion of Himself, in uniting Himself to
man, became man, not by confusion, not by
imitation, but by actually being and subsist-
ing. Away then, once and for all, with the
notion of His Person as of an assumed ficti-
tious character, where always what is is one
thing, what is counterfeited another, where
the man who acts never is the man whose part
he acts. God forbid that we should believe
God the Word to have taken upon Himself
the person of a man in this illusory way.
Rather let us acknowledge that while His own
unchangeable substance remained, and while
He took upon Himself the nature of perfect
man. Himself actually was flesh. Himself actu-
ally was man. Himself actually was personally
man; not feignedly, but in truth, not in imita-
tion, but in substance; not, finally, so as to
cease to be when the performance was over,
but so as to be, and continue to be substantially
and permanently. ^

CHAPTER XV.

The Union of the Divine with the Human Nature took place in
the very Conception of the Virgin. The appellation " The
Mother of God."

[40.] This unity of Person, then, in Christ
was not effected after His birth of the Virgin,
but was compacted and perfected in her very

1 The word " Person " is used in this and the preceding section
in a way which might seem at variance with Catholic truth. Christ
did not assume the Person of a man; but, bein? God, He united in
his one divine Person, the Godhead and the Manhood. Tliis Vin-
centius himself teaches most explicitly. Hut his object here is to
show that our blessed Lord, while conversant among us as man, and
being to all appearance man, did nol personate man, but was man in
deed and in truth. The misconception against which Viiicentius
seeks to guard arises from the ambiguity of the Latin Persona, an

womb. For we must take most especial heed
that we confess Christ not only one, but
always one. For it were intolerable blas-
phemy, if while thou dost confess Him one
now, thou shouldst maintain that once He was
not one, but two; one forsooth since His bap-
tism, but two at His birth. Which monstrous
sacrilege we shall assuredly in no wise avoid
unless we acknowledge the manhood united to
the Godhead (but by unity of Person), not from
the ascension, or the resurrection, or the bap-
tism, but even in His mother, even in the
womb, even in the Virgin's very conception.^
In consequence of which unity of Person, both
those attributes which are proper to God are
ascribed to man, and those which are proper
to the flesh to God, indifferently and promis-
cuously.^ For hence it is written by divine
guidance, on the one hand, that the Son of
man came down from heaven ; ^ and on the
other, that the Lord of glory was crucified on
earth. ^ Hence it is also that since the
Lord's flesh was made, since the Lord's
flesh was created, the very Word of God fs
said to have been made, the very omniscient
Wisdom of God to have been created, just as
prophetically His hands and His feet are
described as having been pierced.® From this
unity of Person it follows, by reason of a like
mystery, that, since the flesh of the Word was
born of an undefiled mother, God the Word
Himself is most Catholicly believed, most
impiously denied, to have been born of the
Virgin; which being the case, God forbid that
any one should seek to defraud Holy Mary
of her prerogative of divine grace and her
special glory. For by the singular gift of
Him who is our Lord and God, and withal,
her own son, she is to be confessed most
truly and most blessedly — The mother of God

ambiguity which is not continued in our derived word Person. Per-
sona signifies not only Person, in our sense of the word, but also an
assumed cliaracter. Though however we have not this sense in
Person, we have it in Personate.

2 If the Son of God had taken to Himself a man now made and
alreadv perfected, it would of necessity follow that there are in
Christ two persons, the one assuming and the other assumed;
whereas, the Son t^f God did not assume a man's person unto His
own, but a man's nature to His own person, and therefore took
semen, the seed of Abraham, the very first original element of our
nature, before it was come to liave any personal human subsistence.
The flesh, and the conjunction of the flesh with Ged, began both in
one instant. His making and taking to Himself our flesh was but one
act, so that in Christ there is no personal subsistence but one, and
that from everlasting. By taking only the nature of man He still
continueth one person, andchangeth but the manner of His subsisting,
which was before in the mere glory of the Son of God, and is now
in the habit of our flesh. — Hooker, Eccl. Pol. v. 52, § 3.

5 ".A kind of mutual commutation there is, whereby those con-
crete names, God and man, when we speak o{ Christ, do take inter-
changeablv one anotlier's room, so that for truth of speech, it skill-
eth not, whether we say that the Son of God hath created the world,
and the Son of man by His death hath saved it, or else, that the Son
of man did create, and the Son of God die to save the world. How-
belt, as oft as we attribute to God what the manhood of Christ claim-
eth, or to man what His Deity hath right unto, we understand by the
name of God and the name of man neither the one nor the other
nature, but the whole person of Christ, in whom both natures are."
— Hooker, Eccl. Polity, v. 53, § 4. This is technically called "The
Communication of Properties," Communicatio idiomatum.

* St. John iii. 13. " 1 Cor. ii. 8. '^ Ps. xxii. 16.

A COMMONITORY.

143

"Theotocos," but not in the sense in wliich it
is imagined by a certain impious heresy which
maintains, that she is to be called the Mother
of God for no other reason than because she
gave birth to that man who afterwards became
God, just as we speak of a woman as the
mother of a priest, or the mother of a bishop,
meaning that she was such, not by giving
birth to one already a priest or a bishop, but
by giving birth to one who afterwards became
a priest or a bishop. Not thus, I say, was
the holy Mary "Theotocos," the mother of
God, but rather, as was said before, because
in her sacred womb was wrought that most
sacred mystery whereby, on account of the
singular and unique unity of Person, as the
Word in flesh is flesh, so Man in God is God.^

CHAPTER XVI.

Recapitulation of what was said of the Catholic Faith and
of divers Heresies, Chapters xi-xv.

[41.] But now that w'e may refresh our
remembrance of what has been briefly said
concerning either the afore-mentioned heresies
or the Catholic Faith, let us go over it again
more briefly and concisely, that being repeated
it may be more thoroughly understood, and
being pressed home more firmly held.

Accursed then be Photinus, who does not
receive the Trinity complete, but asserts that
Christ is mere man.

Accursed be iVpollinaris, who affirms that
the Godhead of Christ is marred by conver-
sion, and defrauds Him of the property of
perfect humanity.

Accursed be Nestorius, who denies that
God was born of the Virgin, affirms two
Christs, and rejecting the belief of the
Trinity, brings in a Quaternity.

But blessed be the Catholic Church, which
worships one God in the completeness of the
Trinity, and at the same time adores the
equality of the Trinity in the unity of the
Godhead, so that neither the singularity of
substance confounds the propriety of the Per-
sons, not the distinction of the Persons in the
Trinity separates the unity of the Godhead.

Blessed, I say, be the Church, which be-
lieves that in Christ there are two true and
perfect substances but one Person, so that
neither doth the distinction of natures divide
the unity of Person, nor the unity of Person
confound the distinction of substances.

Blessed, I say, be the Church, which under-
stands God to have become Man, not by con-
version of nature, but by reason of a Person,

' Sicut Verbum in carne caro, ita Homo in Deo Deus est. Com-
pare the Athanasian Creed, v. 33, in what is probably the true read-
ing, " Unus autem, non conversione Divinilatis in carne, sed
assumptione Humanitatis in Deo."

but of a Person not feigned and transient,
but substantial and permanent.

Blessed, I say, be the Church, which de-
clares this unity of Person to be so real and
effectual, that because of it, in a marvellous
and ineffable mystery, she ascribes divine at-
tributes to man, and human to God; because
of it, on the one hand, she does not deny that
Man, as God, came down from heaven, on
the other, she believes that God, as Man, was
created, suffered, and was crucified on earth ;
because of it, finally, she confesses Man the
Son of God, and God the Son of the Virgin.

Blessed, then, and venerable, blessed and
most sacred, and altogether worthy to be com-
pared with those celestial praises of the
Angelic Host, be the confession which ascribes
glory to the one Lord God with a threefold
ascription of holiness. For this reason more-
over she insists emphatically upon the oneness
of the Person of Christ, that she may not go
beyond the mystery of the Trinity (that is
by making in effect a Quaternity.)

Thus much by way of digression. On
another occasion, please God, we will deal
with the subject and unfold it more fully. '•^
Now let us return to the matter in hand.

CHAPTER XVn.

The Error of Origen a great Trial to the Church.

[42.] We said above that in the Church of
God the teacher's error is the people's trial,
a trial by so much the greater in proportion
to the greater learning of the erring teacher.
This we showed first by the authority of
Scripture, and then by instances from Church
History, of persons who having at one time
had the reputation of being sound in the faith,
eventually either fell away to some sect already
in existence, or else founded a heresy of their
own. An important fact truly, useful to be
learnt, and necessary to be remembered, and
to be illustrated and enforced again and again,
by e.xample upon example, in order that all
true Catholics may understand that it be-
hoves them with the Church to receive Teach-
ers, not with Teachers to desert the faith of
the Church.

[43.] My belief is, that among many
instances of this sort of trial which might be
produced, there is not one to be compared
with that of Origen,^ in whom there were

- Anrtelmi, who ascribed the Athanasian Creed to Vincentius,
thought that document a fulfilment of the promise here made. Nova
de Symbolo Athanasiano Disguisitio. — See Appendix I.

' Origen was born of Christian parents, at Alexandria, about the
year 186. His father, Leonidas, suffered martyrdom in the perse-
cution under Severus, in 202 ; and the family estate having been con-
fiscated, his mother, with six younger children, became dependent
upon him for her support. At the age of eighteen he was appointed
by the bishop Demetrius over the Catechetical School of Alexandria,

144

VINCENT OF LERINS.

many things so excellent, so unique, so
admirable, that antecedently any one would
readily deem that implicit faith was to be
placed in all his assertions. For if the con-
versation and manner of life carry authority,
great was his industry, great his modesty, his
patience, his endurance; if his descent or his
erudition, what more noble than his birth of
a house rendered illustrious by martyrdom?
Afterwards, when in the cause of Christ he
had been deprived not only of his father, but
also of all his property, he attained so high a
standard in the midst of the straits of holy
poverty, that he suffered several times, it is
said, as a Confessor. Nor were these the
only circumstances connected with him, all of
which afterwards proved an occasion of trial.
He had a genius so powerful, so profound, so
acute, so elegant, that there was hardly any
one whom he did not very far surpass. The
splendour of his learning, and of his erudition
generally, was such that there were few points
of divine philosophy, hardly any of human,
which he did not thoroughly master. When
Greek had yielded to his industry, he made
himself a proficient in Hebrew. What shall I
say of his eloquence, the style of which was
so charming, so soft, so sweet, that honey
rather than words seemed to flow from his
mouth! What subjects were there, however
difficult, which he did not render clear and per-
spicuous by the force of his reasoning? What
undertakings, however hard to accomplish,
which he did not make to appear most easy?
But perhaps his assertions rested simply on in-
geniously woven argumentation? On the con-
trary, no teacher ever used more proofs drawn
from Scripture. Then I suppose he wrote
little? No man more, so that, if I mistake
not, his writings not only cannot all be read
through, they cannot all be found ;^ for that
nothing might be wanting to his opportunities
of obtaining knowledge, he had the additional
advantage of a life greatly prolonged.^ But
perhaps he was not particularly happy in his
disciples? Who ever more so? From his
school came forth doctors, priests, confessors,

the duties of which place he discharged with eminent ability and
success. He remained a layman till the age of forty-three, when he
was admitted to priest's orders at Cxsarea, greatly to the displeasure
of Demetrius, by whose hand, according to the Church's rule, the office
ought to liave been conferred, and he was in consequence banished
from Alexandria. Returning to Ca^sarea, he taught there with great
reputation, and had many eminent persons among his disciples. He
sufiEered much in the Uecian persecution in 250, when he was thrown
into prison and subjected to severe tortures. His works, as Vincen-
tiiis says, were very numerous, including among them the Hexapla,
a revised edition of the Hebrew Scriptures and of the Septuagint ver-
sion, together with three other versions, the Hebrew being set forth
ill both Hebrew and Greek characters. His writings were corrupted
in many instances, so that, as Vincentius says, opinions were often
imputed to him which he would not have acknowledged. He died in
his sixty-ninth year at Tyre, and was buried there.

' " Quis nostrum," says St. Jerome, " potest tanta legere quanta
ille conscripsit." — Hieron- ad Pam. ei Ocean.

' He died, as was said m the preceding note, in his sixty-ninth
year.

martyrs, without number.^ Then who can
express how much he was admired by all,
how great his renown, how wide his influ-
ence? Who was there whose religion was at
all above the common standard that did not
hasten to him from the ends of the earth?
What Christian did not reverence him almost
as a prophet; what philosopher as a master?
How great was the veneration with which he
was regarded, not only by private persons, but
also by the Court, is declared by the histories
which relate how he was sent for by the
mother of the Emperor Alexander,"* moved by
the heavenly wisdom with the love of which
she, as he, was inflamed. To this also his
letters bear witness, which, with the authority
which he assumed as a Christian Teacher, he
wrote to the Emperor Philip,^ the first Roman
prince that was a Christian. As to his in-
credible learning, if any one is unwilling to
receive the testimony of Christians at our
hands, let him at least accept that of heathens
at the hands of philosophers. For that im-
pious Porphyry says that when he was little
more than a boy, incited by his fame, he
went to Alexandria, and there saw him, then
an old man, but a man evidently of so great
attainments, that he had reached the summit
of universal knowledge.

[44.] Time would fail me to recount, even
in a very small measure, the excellencies of
this man, all of which, nevertheless, not
only contributed to the glory of religion, but
also increased the magnitude of the trial.
For who in the world would lightly desert a
man of so great genius, so great learning, so
great influence, and would not rather adopt
that saying, That he would rather be wrong
with Origen, than be right with others.®

What shall I say more? The result was
that very many were led astray from the
integrity of the faith, not by any human
excellencies of this so great man, this so
great doctor, this so great prophet, but, as
the event showed, by the too perilous trial
which he proved to be. Hence it came to
pass, that this Origen, such and so great as
he was, wantonly abusing the grace of God,
rashly following the bent of his own genius,
and placing overmuch confidence in himself,
making light account of the ancient simplicity
of the Christian religion, presuming that he
knew more than all the world besides, de-

3 Among these were Gregory Thaumatureus, Bishop of Neo-
Cisarea in Pontus, and Firmilian, Bishop of Csesarea in Cappa-
docia.

* Mammea.

" These are -St. Jerome's words, from whose book, De Viris illus-
tribus c. 54, Viuceiitius's account of Origen is taken. The vexed
question of Philip's claim to be ranked as a Christian is discussed by
TiUemont. — Histoire des Empereurs, T. iii. pp. 494 sgg.

<< Errare malo cum Platone quam cum istis vera sentire. — Cicero,
Titicul, Quasi. 1.

A COMMONITORY.

spising the traditions of the Church and the
determinations of the ancients, and interpret-
ing certain passages of Scripture in a novel
way, deserved for himself the warning given
to the Church of God, as applicable in his
case as in that of others, " If there arise a
prophet in the midst of thee," . . . "thou shalt
not hearken to the words of that prophet,"
. . . "because the Lord your God doth make
trial of you, whether you love Him or
not." ^ Truly, thus of a sudden to seduce the
Church which was devoted to him, and hung
upon him through admiration of his genius,
his learning, his eloquence, his manner of
life and influence, while she had no fear, no
suspicion for herself, — thus, I say, to seduce
the Church, slowly and little by little, from
the old religion to a new profaneness, was
not only a trial, but a great trial."

[45.] But some one will say, Origen's
books have been corrupted. I do not deny
it; nay, I grant if readily. For that such is
the case has been handed down both orally
and in writing, not only by Catholics, but by
heretics as well. But the point is, that though
himself be not, yet books published under his
name are, a great trial, which, abounding in
many hurtful blasphemies, are both read and
delighted in, not as being some one else's,
but as being believed to be his, so that,
although there was no error in Origen's origi-
nal meaning, yet Origen's authority appears
to be an effectual cause in leading people to
embrace error.

CHAPTER XVni.

Tertullian a great Trial to the Church.

[46.] The case is the same with Tertullian.^
For as Origen holds by far the first place

* Deuteronomy xiii. i.

2 "The great Origen died after his many labors in peace. His
immediate pupils were saints and rulers in the Church. He has the
praise of St. Athanasius, St. Basil, and St. Gregory Nazianzen, and
furnishes materials to St. Ambrose and St. Hilary; yet, as time pro-
ceeded, a definite heterodoxy was the growing result of his theology,
and at length, three hundred years after his death, he was condemned,
and, as has generally been considered, in an (Ecumenical Council." —
Newman on Development, p. 85, First Edition.

^ Hardly anything is known of Tertullian, besides what mav be
gathered from his works, in addition to the following account given
by St. Jerome (De Viris Hl-ustribus), which I quote from Bishop
Kaye's work on Tertullian and his writings : " Tertullian, a pres-
byter, the first Latin writer after Victor and ApoUonius, was a native
of the province of Africa and city of Carthage, the son of a procon-
sular centurion. He was a man of a sharp and vehement temper,
flourished under Severus and Caracalla, and wrote numerous works,
which, as they are generally known, I think it unnecessary to par-
ticularize. I saw at Concordia, in Italy, an old man named Paulus,
who said that, when young, he had met at Rome with an aged
amanuensis of the blessed Cyprian, who told him that Cyprian never
passed a day without reading some portion of Tertullian's works, and
used frequently to say, ' Give me my master,' meaning Tertullian.
After remainmg a presbyter of the Church till he had attained the
middle of life, Tertullian was by the cruel and contumelious treatment
of the Roman clergy driven to embrace the opinions of Montanus,
which he has mentioned in several of his works, under the title of
'The New Prophecy.' He is reported to have lived to a very
advanced age." He was bom about the middle of the second cen-
tury, and flourished, according to the dates indicated above, between
the years 190 and 216.

among the Greeks, so does Tertullian among
the Latins. For who more learned than he,
who more versed in knowledge whether divine
or human? With marvellous capacity of mind
he comprehended all philosophy, and had a
knowledge of all schools of philosophers, and
of the founders and upholders of schools, and
was acquainted with all their rules and ob-
servances, and with their various histories
and studies. Was not his genius of such un-
rivalled strength and vehemence that there
was scarcely any obstacle which he proposed
to himself to overcome, that he did not pene-
trate by acuteness, or crush by weight? As
to his style, who can sufficiently set forth its
praise? It was knit together with so much
cogency of argument that it compelled assent,
even where it failed to persuade. Every word
almost was a sentence; every sentence a vic-
tory. This know the Marcions, the Apelleses,
the Praxeases, the Hermogeneses, the Jews,
the Heathens, the Gnostics, and the rest,
whose blasphemies he overthrew by the force
of his many and ponderous volumes, as' with
so many thunderbolts. Yet this man also,
notwithstanding all that I have mentioned,
this Tertullian, I say, too little tenacious of
Catholic doctrine, that is, of the universal
and ancient faith, more eloquent by far than
faithful,* changed his belief, and justified what
the blessed Confessor, Hilary, writes of him,
namely, that "by his subsequent error he
detracted from the authority of his approved
writings."^ He also was a great trial in the
Church. But of Tertullian I am unwilling to
say more. This only I will add, that, contrary
to the injunction of Moses, by asserting the
novel furies of Montanus ® which arose in the
Church, and those mad dreams of new doc-
trine dreamed by mad women, to be true
prophecies, he deservedly made both himself
and his writings obnoxious to the words,
" If there arise a prophet in the midst of
thee,". . . "thou shalt not hearken to the
words of that prophet." For why? "Because
the Lord your God doth make trial of you,
whether you love Him or not."

CHAPTER XIX.

What we ought to learn from these Examples.

[47.] It behoves us, then, to give heed to
these instances from Church History, so
many and so great, and others of the same

* Fidelior, Baluz, Felicior, others. » In Mat. v.

6 Montanus, with his two prophetesses, professed that he was
intrusted with a new dispensation, — a dispensation in advance of
the Gospel, as the Gospel was in advance of the Law. His system
was a protest against the laxity which had grown up in the Church,
as has repeatedly been the case after revivals of religious fervor, veri-
fying Tertullian's apophthegm, " Christiani fiunt, non nascuntur "
(men become Christians, they are not born such). Its characteristics

146

VINCENT OF LERINS.

description, and to understand distinctly,
in accordance with the rule laid down in
Deuteronomy, that if at any time a Doctor in
the Church have erred from the faith, Divine
Providence permits it in order to make trial
of us, whether or not we love God with all
our heart and with all our mind.

CHAPTER XX.

The Notes of a true Catholic.

[48.] This being the case, he is the true
and genuine Catholic who loves the truth of
God, who loves the Church, who loves the
Body of Christ, who esteems divine religion
and the Catholic Faith above every thing,
above the authority, above the regard, above
the genius, above the eloquence, above the
philosophy, of every man whatsoever; who
sets light by all of these, and continuing
steadfast and established in the faith, resolves
that he will believe that, and that only, which
he is sure the Catholic Church has held uni-
versally and from ancient time; but that what-
soever new and unheard-of doctrine he shall
find to have been furtively introduced by some
one or another, besides that of all, or contrary
to that of all the saints, this, he will under-
stand, does not pertain to religion, but is per-
mitted as a trial, being instructed especially
by the words of the blessed Apostle Paul, who
writes thus in his first Epistle to the Cor-
inthians, "There must needs be heresies, that
they who are approved may be made manifest
among you : " ^ as though he should say. This
is the reason why the authors of Heresies are
not forthwith rooted up by God, namely, that
they who are approved may be made manifest;
that is, that it may be apparent of each indi-
vidual, how tenacious and faithful and stead-
fast he is in his love of the Catholic faith.

[49.] And in truth, as each novelty springs
up incontinently is discerned the difference
between the weight of the wheat and the
lightness of the chaff. Then that which had
no weight to keep it on the floor is without
difficulty blown away. For some at once fly
off entirely; others having been only shaken
out, afraid of perishing, wounded, half alive,
half dead, are ashamed to return. They have,
in fact swallowed a quantity of poison — not
enough to kill, yet more than can be got rid
of; it neither causes death, nor suffers to
live. O wretched condition! With what

were extreme ascetism, rigorous fasting, the exaltation of celibacy, the
absolute prohibition of second marriage, the expectation of our fiord's
second advent as near at hand, the disparagement of the clergy in
comparison with its own Paraclete-inspired teachers. It had its rise
in Phrygia, and from thence spread throughout Asia Minor, thence it
found Its way to Southern Gaul, to Rome, to North Western Africa,
in which last for a time it had many followers.
' 1 Cor. ii. 9.

surging tempestuous cares are they tossed
about! One while, the error being set in
motion, they are hurried whithersoever the
wind drives them; another, returning upon
themselves like refluent waves, they are dashed
back: one while, with rash presumption, they
give their approval to what seems uncertain ;
another, with irrational fear, they are fright-
ened out of their wits at what is certain,
in doubt whither to go, whither to return,
what to seek, what to shun, what to keep,
what to throw away.

[50.] This affliction, indeed, of a hesitating
and miserably vacillating mind is, if they
are wise, a medicine intended for them by
God's compassion. For therefore it is that
outside the most secure harbour of the Cath-
olic Faith, they are tossed about, beaten, and
almost killed, by divers tempestuous cogita-
tions, in order that they may take in the sails
of self-conceit, which, they had with ill
advice unfurled to the blasts of novelty,
and may betake themselves again to, and
remain ' stationary within, the most secure
harbour of their placid and good mother, and
may begin by vomiting up those bitter and
turbid floods of error which they had swal-
lowed, that thenceforward they may be able
to drink the streams of fresh and living water.
Let them unlearn well what they had learnt
not well, and let them receive so much of the
entire doctrine of the Church as they can
understand: what they cannot understand let
them believe.

CHAPTER XXI.

Exposition of St. Paul's Words. — r Tim. vi. 20.

[51.] Such being the case, when I think
over these things, and revolve them in my mind
again and again, I cannot sufficiently wonder
at the madness of certain men, at the impiety
of their blinded understanding, at their lust
of error, such that, not content with the rule
of faith delivered once for all, and received
from the times of old, they are every day
seeking one novelty after another, and are
constantly longing to add, change, take away,
in religion, as though the doctrine, ''Let what
has once for all been revealed suffice," were
not a heavenly but an earthly rule, — a rule
which could not be complied with except by
continual emendation, nay, rather by con-
tinual fault-finding; whereas the divine
Oracles cry aloud, "Remove not the land-
marks, which thy fathers have set,"' and "Go
not to law with a Judge," ^ and "Whoso
breaketh through a fence a serpent shall bite
him,"* and that saying of the Apostle where-

* Prov. xxii. 2S.

' Ecclus. viit. 14.

* Eccles. X. 8,

A COMMONITORY.

147

with, as with a spiritual sword, all the wicked
novelties of all heresies often have been,
and will always have to be, decapitated, "O
Timothy, keep the deposit, shunning pro-
fane novelties of words and oppositions of the
knowledge falsely so called, which some pro-
fessing have erred concerning the faith." •^

[52.] After words such as these, is there
any one of so hardened a front, such anvil-
like impudence, such adamantine pertinacity,
as not to succumb to so huge a mass, not to
be crushed by so ponderous a weight, not to be
shaken in pieces by such heavy blows, not
to be annihilated by such dreadful thunder-
bolts of divine eloquence? "Shun profane
novelties," he says. He does not say shun
'"antiquity." But he plainly points to what
ought to follow by the rule of contrary. For if
novelty is to be shunned, antiquity is to be
held fast; if novelty is profane, antiquity is
sacred. He adds, " And oppositions of science
falsely so called." "Falsely called" indeed,
as applied to the doctrines of heretics, where
ignorance is disguised under the name of
knowledge, fog of sunshine, darkness of light.
"Which some professing have erred concern-
ing the faith." Professing what? What but
some (I know not what) new and unheard-of
doctrine. For thou mayest hear some of these
same doctors say, "Come, O silly wretches,
who go by the name of Catholics, come and
learn the true faith, which no one but our-
selves is acquainted with, which same has lain
hid these many ages, but has recently been
revealed and made manifest. But learn it by
stealth and in secret, for you will be delighted
with it. Moreover, when you have learnt it,
teach it furtively, that the world may not hear,
that the Church may not know. For there
are but few to whom it is granted to receive
the secret of so great a mystery." Are not
these the words of that harlot who, in the
proverbs of Solomon, calls to the passengers
who go right on their ways, "Whoso is
simple let him turn in hither." And as for
them that are void of understanding, she
exhorts them saying: "Drink stolen waters,
for they are sweet, and eat bread in secret for
it is pleasant." What next? "But he know-
eth not that the sons of earth perish in her
house." ^ Who are those "sons of earth"?
Let the apostle explain: "Those who have
erred concerning the faith."

CHAPTER XXn.

A more particular Exposition of i Tim. vi. 20.

[53.] But it is worth while to expound the
whole of that passage of the apostle more

L im. VI. 20.

' Prov. ix. 16-18.

fully, "O Timothy, keep the deposit, avoid-
ing profane novelties of words."

"O! " The exclamation implies fore-know-
ledge as well as charity. For he mourned in
anticipation over the errors which he foresaw.
Who is the Timothy of to-day, but either gener-
ally the Universal Church, or in particular, the
whole body of The Prelacy, whom it behoves
either themselves to possess or to communicate
to others a complete knowledge of religion?
What is "Keep the deposit"? "Keep it,"
because of thieves, because of adversaries,
lest, while men sleep, they sow tares over that
good wheat which the Son of Man had sown
in his field. "Keep the deposit." What is
"The deposit"? That which has been in-
trusted to thee, not that which thou hast
thyself devised: a matter not of wit, but of
learning; not of private adoption, but of
public tradition; a matter brought to thee, not
put forth by thee, wherein thou art bound to be
not an author but a keeper, not a teacher
but a disciple, not a leader but a follower.
"Keep the deposit." Preserve the talent of
Catholic Faith inviolate, unadulterate. That
which has been intrusted to thee, let it con-
tinue in thy possession, let it be handed
on by thee. Thou hast received gold; give
gold in turn. Do not substitute one thing
for another. Do not for gold impudently
substitute lead or brass. Give real gold, not
counterfeit.

O Timothy! O Priest! O Expositor! O
Doctor! if the divine gift hath qualified
thee by wit, by skill, by learning, be thou a
Bazaleel of the spiritual tabernacle,^ engrave
the precious gems of divine doctrine, fit them
in accurately, adorn them skilfully, add splen-
dor, grace, beauty. Let that which formerly
was believed, though imperfectly apprehend-
ed, as expounded by thee be clearly under-
stood. Let posterity welcome, understood
through thy exposition, what antiquity vener-
ated without understanding. Yet teach still
the same truths which thou hast learnt, so that
though thou speakest after a new fashion, what
thou speakest may not be new.

CHAPTER XXHL

On Development in Religious Knowledge.

[54.] But some one will say perhaps.
Shall there, then, be no progress in Christ's
Church? Certainly; all possible progress.
For what being is there, so envious of men,
so full of hatred to God, who would seek to
forbid it? Yet on condition that it be real

' Exod. xxxi. I, etc.

148

VINCENT OF LERINS.

progress, not alteration of the faith. For
progress requires that the subject be enlarged
in itself, alteration, that it be transformed
into something else. The intelligence, then,
the knowledge, the wisdom, as well of indi-
viduals as of all, as well of one man as of the
whole Church, ought, in the course of ages
and centuries, to increase and make much
and vigorous progress; but yet only in its
own kind ; that is to say, in the same doc-
trine, in the same sense, and in the same
meaning.

[55.] The growth of religion in the soul
must be analogous to the growth of the body,
which, though in process of years it is
developed and attains its full size, yet
remains still the same. There is a wide dif-
erence between the flower of youth and the
maturity of age ; yet they who were once young
are still the same now that they have become
old, insomuch that though the stature and
outward form of the individual are changed,
yet his nature is one and the same, his person
is one and the same. An infant's limbs are
small, a young man's large, yet the infant
and the young man are the same. Men when
full grown have the same number of joints
that they had when children; and if there be
any to which maturer age has given birth,
these were already present in embryo, so
that nothing new is produced in them when
old which was not already latent in them
when children. This, then, is undoubtedly
the true and legitimate rule of progress, this
the established and most beautiful order of
growth, that mature age ever develops in the
man those parts and forms which the wisdom
of the Creator had already framed beforehand
in the infant. Whereas, if the human form
were changed into some shape belonging to
another kind, or at any' rate, if the number of
its limbs were increased or diminished, the
result would be that the whole body would
become either a wreck or a monster, or, at the
least, would be impaired and enfeebled.

[56.] In like manner, it behoves Christian
doctrine to follow the same laws of progress,
so as to be consolidated by years, enlarged by
time, refined by age, and yet, withal, to con-
tinue uncorrupt and unadulterate, complete
and perfect in all the measurement of its
parts, and, so to speak, in all its proper
members and senses, admitting no change, no
waste of its distinctive property, no variation
in its limits.

[57.] For example: Our forefathers in the
old time sowed wheat in the Church's field.
It would be most unmeet and iniquitous if
we, their descendants, instead of the genuine
truth of corn, should reap the counterfeit
error of tares. This rather should be the

result, — there should be no discrepancy be-
tween the first and the last. From doctrine
which was sown as wheat, we should reap, in
the increase, doctrine of the same kind —
wheat also; so that when in process of time
any of the original seed is developed, and
now flourishes under cultivation, no change
may ensue in the character of the plant.
There may supervene shape, form, variation
in outward appearance, but the nature of each
kind must remain the same. God forbid that
those rose-beds of Catholic interpretation
should be converted into thorns and thistles.
God forbid that in that spiritual paradise
from plants 'of cinnamon and balsam darnel
and wolfsbane should of a sudden shoot
forth.

Therefore, whatever has been sown by the
fidelity of the Fathers in this husbandry of
God's Church, the same ought to be culti-
vated and taken care of by the industry of
their children, the same ought to flourish and
ripen, the same ought to advance and go for-
ward to perfection. For it is right that those
ancient doctrines of heavenly philosophy
should, as time goes on, be cared for,
smoothed, polished; but not that they should
be changed, not that they should be maimed,
not that they should be mutilated. They
may receive proof, illustration, definiteness;
but they must retain withal their complete-
ness, their integrity, their characteristic
properties.

[58.] For if once this license of impious
fraud be admitted, I dread to say in how
great danger religion will be of being utterly
destroyed and annihilated. For if any one
part of Catholic truth be given up, another,
and another, and another will thenceforward
be given up as a matter of course, and the
several individual portions having been
rejected, what will follow in the end but the
rejection of the whole? On the other hand,
if what is new begins to be mingled with
what is old, foreign with domestic, profane
with sacred, the custom will of necessity
creep on universally, till at last the Church
will have nothing left untampered with,
nothing unadulterated, nothing sound, nothing
pure ; but where formerly there was a sanctuary
of chaste and undefiled truth, thenceforward
there will be a brothel of impious and base
errors. May God's mercy avert this wicked-
ness from the minds of his servants; be it
rather the frenzy of the ungodly.

[59.] But the Church of Christ, the careful
and watchful guardian of the doctrines depos-
ited in her charge, never changes anything
in them, never diminishes, never adds, does
not cut off what is necessary, does not add
what is superfluous, does not lose her own,

A COMMONITORY.

149

does not appropriate what is another's, but
while dealing faithfully and judiciously with
ancient doctrine, keeps this one object care-
fully in view. — if there be anything which
antiquity has left shapeless and rudimentary,
to fashion and polish it, if anything already
reduced to shape and developed, to consoli-
date and strengthen it, if any already ratified
and defined to keep and guard it. Finally,
what other object have Councils ever aimed at
in their decrees, than to provide that what
was before believed in simplicity should in
future be believed intelligently, that what was
before preached coldly should in future be
preached earnestly, that what was before prac-
tised negligently should thenceforward be
practised with double solicitude? This, I say,
is what the Catholic Church, roused by the
novelties of heretics, has accomplished by the
decrees of her Councils, — this, and nothing
else, — she has thenceforward consigned to
posterity in writing what she had received
from those of olden times only by tradition,
comprising a great amount of matter in a few
words, and often, for the better understanding,
designating an old article of the faith by the
characteristic of a new name.^

CHAPTER XXIV.

Continuation of the Exposition of i Tim. vi. 20.

[60.] But let us return to the apostle.
"O Timothy," he says, "Guard the deposit,
shunning profane novelties of words."
" Shun them as you would a viper, as you
would a scorpion, as you would a basilisk, lest
they smite you not only with their touch, but
even with their eyes and breath. " What is " to
shun " .'' Not even to eat ' with a person of this
sort. What is " shun " ? " If anyone," says St.
John, "come to you and bring not this doc-
trine." What doctrine? What but the Catholic
and universal doctrine, which has continued
one and the same through the several succes-
sions of ages by the uncorrupt tradition of
the truth, and so will continue for ever — " Re-
ceive him not into your house, neither bid him
Godspeed, for he that biddeth him Godspeed
communicates with him in his evil deeds." ^

[61.] "Profane novelties of words."
What words are these? Such as have noth-
ing sacred, nothing religious, words utterly
remote from the inmost sanctuary of the
Church, which is the temple of God. "Pro-
fane novelties of words," that is, of doctrines,

^ For instance, the proper Deity of our Blessed Lord by the
word " Homousios," consubstantial, of one substance, essence,
nature.

* Cor. V. II.

' 2 John 10.

subjects, opinions, such as are contrary to
antiquity and the faith of the olden time.
Which if they be received, it follows neces-
sarily that the faith of the blessed fathers is
violated either in whole, or at all events in
great part; it follows necessarily that all the
faithful of all ages, all the saints, the chaste,
the continent, the virgins, all the clergy.
Deacons and Priests, so many thousands
of Confessors, so vast an army of martyrs,
such multitudes of cities and of peoples, so
many islands, provinces, kings, tribes, king-
doms, nations, in a word, almost the whole
earth, incorporated in Christ the Head,
through the Catholic faith, have been ignorant
for so long a tract of time, have been mis-
taken, have blasphemed, have not known what
to believe, what to confess.

[62.] "Shun profane novelties of words,"
which to receive and follow was never the
part of Catholics; of heretics always was.
In sooth, what heresy ever burst forth save
under a definite name, at a definite place, at
a definite time? Who ever originated a heresy
that did not first dissever himself from the
consentient agreement of the universality and
antiquity of the Catholic Church? That this
is so is demonstrated in the clearest way by
examples. For who ever before that profane
Pelagius ^ attributed so much antecedent
strength to Free-will, as to deny the necessity
of God's grace to aid it towards good in every

* Pelagius, a monk, a Briton by birth, but resident in Rome,
where by the strictness of his life he had acquired a high reputation
for sanctity, was led, partly perhaps by opposition to St. Augustine's
teaching on the subject of election and predestination, partly by
indignation at the laxity of professing Christians, wlio pleaded, in
excuse for their low standard, the weakness of human nature, to
insist upon man's natural power, and to deny his need of divine grace.

Pelagius was joined by another monk, Ccelestius, a younger man,
with whom about the year 410, the year in which I^ome was taken
by the Goths, he began to teach openly and in public what before he
had held and taught in private. After the sack of Rome, the two
friends passed over into Africa, and from thence Pelagius proceeded
to Palestine, where he was in two separate synods acquitted of the
charge of heresy, which had been brought against him by Orosius, a
Spanish monk, whom Augustine had sent for that purpose. But in
416, two African synods condemned his doctrine, and Zosimus,
bishop of Rome, whom he had appealed to, though he had set aside
their decision, was eventually obliged to yield to the firmness with
which they held their ground, and not only to condemn Pelagius,
but to take stringent measures against his adherents. " In 41S, an-
other African synod of two hundred and fourteen bishops passed nine
canons, which were afterwards generally accepted throughout the
Church, and came to be regarded as the most important bulwark
against Pelagianism." The heresy was formally condemned, in 431,
by the General Council of Ephesus. Canons 2 and 4.

The Pelagians denied the corruption of man's nature, and the
necessity of divine grace. They held that infants new-born are in
the same state in which Adam was before his fall ; that Adam's
sin injured no one but himself, and affected his posterity no other
wise than by the evil example which it afforded; they held also that
men may live without sin if they will, and that some have so lived.

Those who were afterwards called semi-Pelagians (they belonged
chiefly to the churches of Southern Gaul) were orthodox except in
one particular : In their anxiety to justify, as they thought, Gpd's
dealings with man, they held that the first step in the way of salva-
tion must be from ourselves : we must ask that we may receive, seek
that we may find, knock that it may be opened to us; thenceforward
in every stage of the road, our strenuous efforts must be aided by
divine grace. They did not understand, or did not grant, that to that
same grace must be referred even the disposition to ask, to seek, to
knock. See Prosper's letter to Augustine, August. Opera, Tom. x.

The semi-Pelagian doctrine was condemned in the second Council
of Orange (a.d. 529), the third and fifth canons of which are directed
against it.

I50

VINCENT OF LfiRINS.

single act? Who ever before his monstrous
disciple Coelestius denied that the whole
human race is involved in the guilt of Adam's
sin? Who ever before sacrilegious Arius
dared to rend asunder the unity of the
Trinity? Who before impious Sabellius was
so audacious as to confound the Trinity of
the Unity? Who before cruellest Novatian
represented God as cruel in that He had
rather the wicked should die than that he
should be converted and live? Who before
Simon Magus, who was smitten by the apos-
tle's rebuke, and from whom that ancient sink
of every thing vile has flowed by a secret con-
tinuous succession even to Priscillian of our
own time, — who, I say, before this Simon
Magus, dared to say that God, the Creator,
is the author of evil, that is, of our wicked-
nesses, impieties, flagitiousnesses, inasmuch as
he asserts that He created with His own hands
a human nature of such a description, that of
its own motion, and by the impulse of its
necessity-constrained will, it can do nothing
else, can wdll nothing else, but sin, seeing
that tossed to and fro, and set on fire by
the furies of all sorts of vices, it is hurried
away by unquenchable lust into the utmost
extremes of baseness ?

[63.] There are innumerable instances of
this kind, which for brevity's sake, pass over;
by all of which, however, it is manifestly
and clearly shown, that it is an established
law, in the case of almost all heresies,
that they evermore delight in profane novel-
ties, scorn the decisions of antiquity, and,
through oppositions of science falsely so
called, make shipwreck of the faith. On the
other hand, it is the sure characteristic of
Catholics to keep that which has been com-
mitted to their trust by the holy Fathers, to con-
demn profane novelties, and, in the apostle's
words, once and again repeated, to anathema-
tize every one who preaches any other doctrine
than that which has been received.-'

CHAPTER XXV.

Heretics appeal to Scripture that they may more easily
succeed in deceiving.

[64.] Here, possibly, some one may ask,
Do heretics also appeal to Scripture? They
do indeed, and with a vengeance ; for you may
see them scamper through every single book
of Holy Scripture, — through the books of
Moses, the books of Kings, the Psalms, the
Epistles, the Gospels, the Prophets. Whether
among their own people, or among strangers, in

1 Gal. ii. 9.

private or in public, in speaking or in writing,
at convivial meetings, or in the streets, hardly
ever do they bring forward anything of their
own which they do not endeavour to shelter
under words of Scripture. Read the works of
Paul of Samosata, of Priscillian, of Eunomius,
of Jovinian, and the rest of those pests, and
you will see an infinite heap of instances,
hardly a single page, which does not bristle
with plausible quotations from the New Tes-
ment or the Old.

[65.] But the more secretly they conceal
themselves under shelter of the Divine Law,
so much the more are they to be feared and
guarded against. For they know that the evil
stench of their doctrine will hardly find accept-
ance with any one if it be exhaled pure and
simple. They sprinkle it over, therefore, with
the perfume of heavenly language, in order
that one who would be ready to despise human
error, may hesitate to condemn divine words.
They do, in fact, what nurses do when they
would prepare some bitter draught for chil-
dren; they smear the edge of the cup all
round with honey, that the unsuspecting
child, having first tasted the sweet, may have
no fear of the bitter. So too do these act,
who disguise poisonous herbs and noxious
juices under the names of medicines, so that
no one almost, when he reads the label, sus-
pects the poison.

[66.] It was for this reason that the
Saviour cried, "Beware of false prophets
who come to you in sheep's clothing, but
inwardly they are ravening wolves." '■^ What
is meant by "sheep's clothing"? What but
the words which prophets and apostles with
the guilelessness of sheep wove beforehand
as fleeces, for that immaculate Lamb which
taketh away the sin of the world? What are
the ravening wolves? What but the savage
and rabid glosses of heretics, who continu-
ally infest the Church's folds, and tear in
pieces the flock of Christ wherever they are
able? But that they may with more success-
ful guile steal upon the unsuspecting sheep,
retaining the ferocity of the wolf, they put ofif
his appearance, and wrap themselves, so to
say, in the language of the Divine Law, as in
a fleece, so that one, having felt the softness
of wool, may have no dread of the wolf's
fangs. But what saith the Saviour? "By
their fruits ye shall know them;" that is,
when they have begun not only to quote those
divine words, but also to expound them, not
as yet only to make a boast of them as on their
side, but also to interpret them, then will that
bitterness, that acerbity, that rage, be under-
stood; then will the ill-savour of that novel

* Matt. vii. 15.

A COMMONITORY.

151

poison be perceived, then will those profane
novelties be disclosed, then may you see first
the hedge broken through, then the landmarks
of the Fathers removed, then the Catholic
faith assailed, then the doctrine of the Church
torn in pieces.

[67.] Such were they whom the Apostle
Paul rebukes in his Second Epistle to the
Corinthians, when he says, " For of this sort
are false apostles, deceitful workers, trans-
forming themselves into apostles of Christ." ^
The apostles brought forward instances from
Holy Scripture; these men did the same.
The apostles cited the authority of the
Psalms; these men did so likewise. The
apostles brought forward passages from the
prophets; these men still did the same. But
when they began to interpret in different
senses the passages which both had agreed
in appealing to, then were discerned the
guileless from the crafty, the genuine from
the counterfeit, the straight from the crooked,
then, in one word, the true apostles from
the false apostles. "And no wonder," he
says, "for Satan himself transforms himself
into an angel of light. It is no marvel then
if his servants are transformed as the servants
of righteousness." Therefore, according to
the authority of the Apostle Paul, as often as
either false apostles or false teachers cite
passages from the Divine Law, by means of
which, misinterpreted, they seek to prop up
their own errors, there is no doubt that they
are following the cunning devices of their
father, which assuredly he would never have
devised, but that he knew that where he
could fraudulently and by stealth introduce
error, there is no easier way of effecting his
impious purpose than by pretending the
authority of Holy Scripture.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Heretics, in quoting Scripture, follow the example of the

Devil.

[68.] But some one will say, What proof
have we that the Devil is wont to appeal to
Holy Scripture? Let him read the Gospels
wherein it is written, "Then the Devil took
Him (the Lord the Saviour) and set Him
upon a pinnacle of the Temple, and said unto
Him: If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself
down, for it is written, He shall give His
angels charge concerning thee, that they may
keep thee in all thy ways: In their hands

* 3 Cor. xi. 12

they shall bear thee up, lest perchance thou
dash thy foot against a stone." ^ What sort of
treatment must men, insignificant wretches that
they are, look for at the hands of him who as-
sailed even the Lord of Glory with quotations
from Scripture? " If thou be the Son of God,"
saith he, "cast thyself down." W^herefore?
"For,"saith he, "it is written." It behoves
us to pay special attention to this passage and
bear it in mind, that, warned by so important
an instance of Evangelical authority, we may
be assured beyond doubt, when we find peo-
ple alleging passages from the Apostles or
Prophets against the Catholic Faith, that the
Devil speaks through their mouths. For as
then the Head spoke to the Head, so now
also the members speak to the members, the
members of the Devil to the members of
Christ, misbelievers to believers, sacrilegious
to religious, in one word. Heretics to Catholics.
[69.] But what do they say? "If thou be
the Son of God, cast thyself down; " that is. If
thou wouldst be a son of God, and wouldst
receive the inheritance of the Kingdom of
Heaven, cast thyself down; that is, cast thy-
self down from the doctrine and tradition of
that sublime Church, which is imagined to be
nothing less than the very temple of God. And
if one should ask one of the heretics who
gives this advice. How do you prove? What
ground have you, for saying, that I ought to
cast away the universal and ancient faith of
the Catholic Church? he has the answer
ready, " For it is written ; " and forthwith he
produces a thousand testimonies, a thousand
examples, a thousand authorities from the
Law, from the Psalms, from the apostles, from
the Prophets, by means of which, interpreted
on a new and wrong principle, the unhappy
soul may be precipitated from the height of
Catholic truth to the lowest abyss of heresy.
Then, with the accompanying promises, the
heretics are wont marvellously to beguile the
incautious. For they dare to teach and
promise, that in their church, that is, in the
conventicle of their communion, there is a
certain great and special and altogether
personal grace of God, so that whosoever
pertain to their number, without any labour,
without any effort, without any industry, even
though they neither ask, nor seek, nor knock,
have such a dispensation from God, that,
borne up by angel hands, that is, preserved
by the protection of angels, it is impossible
they should ever dash their feet against a
stone, that is, that they should ever be
offended.^

' Matt, iv. 5, etc.
» See Appendix II.

152

VINCENT OF LfiRINS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

What Rule is to be observed in the Interpretation of
Scripture.

[70.] But it will be said, If the words, the
sentiments, the promises of Scripture, are
appealed to by the Devil and his disciples, of
whom some are false apostles, some false
prophets and false teachers, and all without
exception heretics, what are Catholics and the
sons of Mother Church to do ? How are they to
distinguish truth from falsehood in the sacred
Scriptures? They must be very careful to
pursue that course which, in the beginning
of this Commonitory, we said that holy and
learned men had commended to us, that is
to sa}-, they must interpret the sacred Canon
according to the traditions of the Universal
Church and in keeping with the rules of
Catholic doctrine, in which Catholic and Uni-
versal Church, moreover, they must follow
universality, antiquity, consent. And if at
any time a part opposes itself to the whole,
novelty to antiquity, the dissent of one or a
few who are in error to the consent of all or
at all events of the great majority of Catho-
lics, then they must prefer the soundness of
the whole to the corruption of a part; in
which same whole they must prefer the
religion of antiquity to the profaneness of
novelty; and in antiquity jtself in like manner,
to the temerity of one or of a very few they
must prefer, first of all, the general decrees,
if such there be, of a Universal Council, or
if there be no such, then, what is next best,
they must follow the consentient belief of
many and great masters. Which rule having
been faithfully, soberly, and scrupulously
observed, we shall with little difficulty
detect the noxious errors of heretics as they
arise.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

In what Way, on collating the consentient opinions of the
.\ncient Masters, the Novelties of Heretics may be detected
and condemned.

[71.] And here I perceive that, as a neces-
sary sequel to the foregoing, I ought to show
by examples in what way, by collating the
consentient opinions of the ancient masters,
the profane novelties of heretics may be de-
tected and condemned. Yet in the investi-
gation of this ancient consent of the holy
Fathers we are to bestow our pains not on
every minor question of the Divine Law, but
only, at all events especially, where the Rule

of Faith is concerned. Nor is this way of
dealing with heresy to be resorted to always,
or in every instance, but only in the case of
those heresies which are new and recent, and
that on their first arising, before they have
had time to deprave the Rules of the Ancient
Faith, and before they endeavour, while the
poison spreads and diffuses itself, to corrupt
the writings of the ancients. But heresies
already widely diffused and of old standing are
by no means to be thus dealt with, seeing that
through lapse of time they have long had
opportunity of corrupting the truth. And
therefore, as to the more ancient schisms or
heresies, we ought either to confute them, if
need be, by the sole authority of the Scrip-
tures, or at any rate, to shun them as having
been already of old convicted and condemned
by universal councils of the Catholic Priest-
hood.

[72.] Therefore, as soon as the corruption
of each mischievous error begins to break
forth, and to defend itself by filching certain
passages of Scripture, and expounding them
fraudulently and deceitfully, forthwith, the
opinions of the ancients in the interpretation
of the Canon are to be collected, whereby the
novelty, and. consequently the profaneness,
whatever it may be, that arises, may both with-
out any doubt be exposed, and without any ter-
giversation be condemned. But the opinions
of those Fathers only are to be used for com-
parison, who living and teaching, holily,
wisely, and with constancy, in the Catholic
faith and communion, were counted worthy
either to die in the faith of Christ, or to
suffer death happily for Christ. Whom yet
we are to believe on this condition, that that
only is to be accounted indubitable, certain,
established, which either all, or the more part,
have supported and confirmed manifestly,
frequently, persistently, in one and the same
sense, forming, as it were, a consentient
council of doctors, all receiving, holding,
handing on the same doctrine. But whatso-
ever a teacher holds, other than all, or con-
trary to all, be he holy and learned, be he a
bishop, be he a Confessor, be he a martyr,
let that be regarded as a private fancy of his
own, and be separated from the authority of
common, public, general persuasion, lest, after
the sacrilegious custom of heretics and schis-
matics, rejecting the ancient truth of the uni-
versal Creed, we follow, at the utmost peril
of our eternal salvation, the newly devised
error of one man.

[73.] Lest any one perchance should
rashly think the holy and Catholic consent
of these blessed fathers to be despised,
the Apostle says, in the First Epistle to the
Corinthians, ''God hath placed some in the

A COMMONITORY.

153

Church, first Apostles," ^of whom himself was
one; "secondly Prophets," such as Agabus,
of whom we read in the Acts of the Apostles ; -
"then doctors," who are now called Hom-
ilists. Expositors,^ whom the same apostle
sorrretimes calls also "Prophets," because by
them the mysteries of the Prophets are opened
to the people. Whosoever, therefore, shall
despise these, who had their appointment of
God in His Church in their several times
and places, when they are unanimous in
Christ, in the interpretation of some one
point of Catholic doctrine, despises not man,
but God, from whose unity in the truth,
lest any one should vary, the same Apostle
earnestly protests, " I beseech you, brethren,
that ye all speak the same thing, and that
there be no divisions among you, but that ye
be perfectly joined together in the same mind
and in the same judgment."* But if any one
dissent from their unanimous decision, let
him listen to the words of the same apostle,"
"God is not the God of dissension but of
peace ; " ^ that is, not of him who departs
from the unity of consent, but of those who
remain steadfast in the peace of consent;
"as," he continues, "I teach in all Churches
of the saints," that is, of Catholics, which
churches are therefore churches of the saints,
because they continue steadfast in the com-
munion of the faith.

[74.] And lest any one, disregarding every
one else, should arrogantly claim to be lis-
tened to himself alone, himself alone to be
believed, the Apostle goes on to say, "Did the
word of God proceed from you, or did it
come to you only? " And, lest this should be
thought lightly spoken, he continues, "If any
man seem to be a prophet or a spiritual person,
let him acknowledge that the things which I
write unto you are the Lord's commands."
As to which, unless a man be a prophet or a
spiritual person, that is, a master in spiritual
matters, let him be as observant as possible
of impartiality and unity, so as neither to
prefer his own opinions to those of every one
besides, nor to recede from the belief of
the whole body. Which injunction, whoso
ignores, shall be himself ignored;** that is,
he who either does not learn what he does
not know, or treats with contempt what he
knows, shall be ignored, that is, shall be
deemed unworthy to be ranked of God with
those who are united to each other by faith,
and equalled with each other by humility,
than which I cannot imagine a more terrible
evil. This it is however which, according to

1 1 Cor. xii. 27, 28. ' Acts xi. 28.

^ " Tractatores." St. Augustine's Expositor)' Lectures on St.
John's Gosj)el are entitled " Tractatus."

* I Cor. i. 10. ^ I Cor. xiv. 33. • i Cor. xiv. 33.

the Apostle's threatening, we see to have
befallen Julian the Pelagian,'' who either neg-
lected to associate himself with the belief
of his fellow Christians, or presumed to dis-
sociate himself from it.

[75.] But it is now time to bring forward the
exemplification which we promised, where and
how the sentences of the holy Fathers have
been collected together, so that in accordance
with them, by the decree and authority of a
council, the rule of the Church's faith may be
settled. Which that it may be done the more
conveniently, let this present Commonitory end
here, so 'that the remainder which is to follow
may be begun from a fresh beginning.

[The Second Book of the Commonitory is lost. Noth-
ing of it remains but the conclusion : in other words,
the recapitulation which follows-]

CHAPTER XXIX.

Recapitulation.

[76.] This being the case, it is now time
that we should recapitulate, at the close of
this second Commonitory, what was said in
that and in tlie preceding.

We said above, that it has always been the
custom of Catholics, and still is, to prove
the true faith in these two ways ; first by the
authority of the Divine Canon, and next by
the tradition of the Catholic Chnrch. Not
that the Canon alone does not of itself suffice
for every question, but seeing that the more
part, interpreting the divine words according
to their own persuasion, take up various erro-
neous opinions, it is therefore necessary that
the interpretation of divine Scripture should
be ruled according to the one standard of
the Church's belief, especially in those arti-
cles on which the foundations of all Catholic
doctrine rest.

[77.] We said likewise, that in the Church
itself regard must be had to the consentient
voice of universality equally with that of
antiquity, lest we either be torn from the
integrity of unity and carried away to schism,
or be precipitated from the religion of an-
tiquity into heretical novelties. We said,
further, that in this same ecclesiastical
antiquity two points are very carefully and
earnestly to be held in view by those who

' Julian, bishop of Eclanum, a small town in Apulia or Campania,
was one of nineteen bishops, who, liaving espoused the cause of
Pelagius, and having refused to subscribe a circular letter issued by
Zosimus, now adopUng the decisions of the African Council (see
above note p. 147) were deposed and banished. St. Augustine at his
death left a work against Juhan unfinished, " 0/«j imper/ectum
contra Julianum,''^ in which he had been engaged till the sickness
of which he died put an end to his labours.

^54

VINCENT OF LERINS.

would keep clear of heresy: first, they should
ascertain whether any decision has been
given in ancient times as to the matter in
question by the whole priesthood of the
Catholic Church, with the authority of a
General Council: and, secondly, if some new
question should arise on which no such de-
cision has been given, they should then have
recourse to the opinions of the holy Fathers,
of those at least, who, each, in his own time
and place, remaining in the unity of com-
munion and of the faith, were accepted as
approved masters; and whatsoever these may
be found to have held, with one mind and with
one consent, this ought to be accounted the
true and Catholic doctrine of the Church,
without any doubt or scruple.

[78.] Which lest we should seem to allege
presumptuously on our own warrant rather
than on the authority of the Church, we
appealed to the example of the holy council
which some three years ago was held at
Ephesus ^ in Asia, in the consulship of Bassus
and Antiochus, where, when question was
raised as to the authoritative determining of
rules of faith, lest, perchance, any profane
novelty should creep in, as did the perversion
of the truth at Ariminum,'^ the whole body
of priests there assembled, nearly two hun-
dred in number, approved of this as the
most Catholic, the most trustworthy, and the
best course, viz., to bring forth into the midst
the sentiments of the holy Fathers, some of
whom it was well known had been martyrs,
some Confessors, but all had been, and con-
tinued to the end to be. Catholic priests, in
order that by their consentient determina-
tion the reverence due to ancient truth might
be duly and solemnly confirmed, and the
blasphemy of profane novelty condemned.
Which having been done, that impious Nes-
torius was lawfully and deservedly adjudged
to be opposed to Catholic antiquity, and con-
trariwise blessed Cyril to be in agreement
with it. And that nothing might be wanting
to the credibility of the matter, we recorded the
names and the number (though we had for-
gotten the order) of the Fathers, according
to whose consentient and unanimous judg-
ment, both the sacred preliminaries of judi-
cial procedure were expounded, and the rule
of divine truth established. Whom, that we
may strengthen our memory, it will be no
superfluous labour to mention again here
also.

■ The Council of Ephesus, summoned by the Emperor Theodo-
sius to meet at Whitsuntide, 431 (June 7), held its first sitting on
June 22, in the Church of St. Mary, where the blessed Virgin was
believed to have been buried.

* See note above, p. 131, n. 3.

CHAPTR. XXX.

The Council of Ephesus.

[79.] These then are the men whose writ-
ings, whether as judges or as witnesses, were
recited in the Council: St. Peter, bishop of
Alexandria, a most excellent Doctor and most
blessed martyr, Saint Athanasius, bishop of
the same city, a most faithful Teacher, and
most eminent Confessor, Saint Theophilus,
also bishop of the same city, a man illus-
trious for his faith, his life, his knowl-
edge, whose successor, the revered Cyril,
now ^ adorns the Alexandrian Church. And
lest perchance the doctrine ratified by the
Council should be thought peculiar to one
city and province, there were added also
those lights of Cappadocia, St. Gregory of
Nazianzus, bishop and Confessor, St. Basil
of Caesarea in Cappadocia, bishop and Con-
fessor, and the other St. Gregory, St. Gregory
of Nyssa, for his faith, his conversation,
his integrity, and his wisdom, most worthy
to be the brother of Basil. And lest Greece
or the East should seem to stand alone, to
prove that the Western and Latin world
also have always held the same belief, there
were read in the Council certain Epistles
of St. Felix, martyr, and St. Julius, both
bishops of Rome. And that not only the
Head, but the other parts, of the world also
might bear witness to the judgment of the
council, there was added from the South the
most blessed Cyprian, bishop of Carthage and
martyr, and from the North St. Ambrose,
bishop of Milan.

[80.] These all then, to the sacred num-
ber of the decalogue,^ were produced at Eph-

3 This marks Vincentiiis's date within very narrow limits, viz.
after the Council of Ephesus, and before Cyril's death. Cyril died

in 444-

* Vincentius's copy of the acts of the Council appears to have con-
tained extracts from no more than ten Fathers. But the Fathers
from whose writings extracts were read were twelve in number ; the
two omitted by Vincentius being Atticus, bishop of Constantinople,
and Amphilochius, bishop of Iconium. In Labbe's ConctVia, where
the wliole are given, it is remarked that in one manuscript the two
last mentioned occupy a different place from the others.

Dean Milman (Latin Christiaiiity, vol. i, p. 164) speaks of the
passages read, " as of verj' doubtful bearing on the question raised by
Nestorius." It is true only two, those from Athanasius and Gregory
Nazianzen, contain the crucial term " Theotocos " but all express the
truth which " Theotocos " symbolizes. That the word was not of
recent introduction. Bishop Pearson {Creed, Art. 3) shows by quota-
tions from other writers besides those produced at the Council, going
back as far as to Origen.

The Fathers cited may certainly be said to fulfil to some extent
Vincentius's requirement of universality. They represent the teach-
ing of Alexandria, Rome, Carthage, Milan, Constantinople, .and Asia
Minor; but his appeal would hare been more tf> his purpose if antiq-
uity had been more expressly represented. With the exception of
Cyprian, all the passages cited were from writers of comparatively
recent date at the time, though, as Vincentius truly remarks, others
might have been produced.

Petavius (De Incam. 1. xiv. c. 15), in defending the cullus of the
blessed Virgin and of the saints generally, lays much stress on this
omission of citations from earlier Fathers at the Council, as he does
also on similar omissions in the case of the fourth, fifth, and sixth

A COMMONITORY.

155

esus as doctors, councillors, witnesses, judges.
And that blessed council holding their doc-
trine, following their counsel, believing their
witness, submitting to their judgment without
haste, without foregone conclusion, without
partiality, gave their determination concerning
the Rules of Faith. A much greater number
of the ancients might have been adduced; but
it was needless, because neither was it fit that
the time should be occupied by a multitude of
witnesses, nor does any one suppose that those
ten were really of a different mind from the
rest of their colleagues.

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Constancy of the Ephesine Fathers in driving away
Novelty and maintaining Antiquity.

[81.] After the preceding we added also
the sentence of blessed Cyril, which is con-
tained in these same Ecclesiastical Proceed-
ings. For when the Epistle of Capreolus,^
bishop of Carthage, had been read, wherein he
earnestly intreats that novelty may be driven
away and antiquity maintained, Cyril made
and carried the proposal, which it may not be
out of place to insert here : For says he, at the
close of the proceedings, " Let the Epistle of
Capreolus also, the reverend and very reli-
gious bishop of Carthage, which has been read,
be inserted in the acts. His mind is obvi-
ous, for he intreats that the doctrines of the
ancient faith be confirmed, such as are
novel, wantonly devised, and impiously pro-
mulgated, reprobated and condemned." All
the bishops cried out, '"These are the words
of all; this we all say, this we all desire."
What mean "the words of all," what mean
"the desires of all," but that what has
been handed down from antiquity should be
retained, what has been newly devised, re-
jected with disdain?

[82.] Next we expressed our admiration of
the humility and sanctity of that Council,

Councils, with what object is sufficiently obvious. Bishop Pull
points out Petavius's disposition to disparage or misrepresent the
teaching of the earlier Fathers, in another and still more important
instance. (Defetis. Fid. Nic.') Introd. § 8.

1 The letter of Capreolus is given in Labbe's Concilia, yo\. 3, col.
529 sqq. The Emperor Theodosius had written to Augustine, requir-
mg his presence at the Council which he had summoned to meet at
Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius. But Augustine having died
while the letter was on its way, it was brought to Capreolus, bishop
of Carthage and Metropolitan. Capreolus would have summoned a
meeting of the African bishops, that they might appoint a delegate to
represent them at the Council ; but the presence of the hostile Van-
dals, who were laying waste the country in all directions, made it
impossible for the bishops to travel to any place of meeting. Cap-
reolus therefore could do no more than send his deacon Besula to
represent him and the African Church, bearing with him the letter
referred to in the text. The letter, after having been read before the
Council, both in the original Latin and in a Greek translation, was
on the motion of Cyril, inserted in the acts.

such that, though the number of priests was
so great, almost the more part of them metro-
politans, so erudite, so learned, that almost
all were capable of taking part in doctrinal
discussions, whom the very circumstance of
their being assembled for the purpose, might
seem to embolden to make some determi-
nation on their own authority, yet they inno-
vated nothing, presumed nothing, arrogated
to themselves absolutely nothing, but used
all possible care to hand down nothing to
posterity but what they had themselves re-
ceived from their Fathers. And not only
did they dispose satisfactorily of the matter
presently in hand, but they also set an ex-
ample to those who should come after them,
how they also should adhere to the determi-
nations of sacred antiquity, and condemn the
devices of profane novelty.

[83.] We inveighed also against the wicked
presumption of Nestorius in boasting that
he was the first and the only one who under-
stood holy Scripture, and that all those
teachers were ignorant, who before him had
expounded the sacred oracles, forsooth, the
whole body of priests, the whole body of Con-
fessors and martyrs, of whom some had pub-
lished commentaries upon the Law of God,
others had agreed with them in their com-
ments, or had acquiesced in them. In a word,
he confidently asserted that the whole Church
was even now in error, and always had been in
error, in that, as it seemed to him, it had
followed, and was following, ignorant and
misguided teachers.

CHAPTER XXXH.

The zeal of Celestine and Sixtus, bishops of Rome, in oppos-
ing Novelty.

[84.] The foregoing would be enough and
very much more than enough, to crush and
annihilate every profane novelty. But yet
that nothing might be wanting to such com-
pleteness of proof, we added, at the close,
the twofold authority of the Apostolic See,
first, that of holy Pope Sixtus, the venerable
prelate who now adorns the Roman Church ;
and secondly that of his predecessor. Pope
Celestine of blessed memory, which same we
think it necessary to insert here also.

Holy Pope Sixtus^ then says in an Epistle
which he wrote on Nestorius's matter to the
bishop of Antioch, "Therefore, because, as
the Apostle says, the faith is one, — evidently
the faith which has obtained hitherto, — let

' Sixtus III. See the Epistle in Labbe's Concilia, T. iii.
Col. 1262.

156

VINCENT OF LERINS.

us believe the things that are to be said, and
say the things that are to be held." What
are the things that are to be believed and to
be said? He goes on: "Let no license be
allowed to novelty, because it is not fit that
any addition should be made to antiquity.
Let not the clear faith and belief of our fore-
fathers be fouled by any muddy admixture."
A truly apostolic sentiment! He enhances
the belief of the Fathers by the epithet of
clearness; profane novelties he calls muddy.

[85.] Holy Pope Celestine also expresses
himself in like manner and to the same
effect. For in the Epistle which he wrote to
the priests of Gaul, charging them with con-
nivance with error, in that by their silence
they failed in their duty to the ancient
faith, and allowed profane novelties to spring
up, he says : "' We are deservedly to blame if
we encourage error by silence. Therefore
rebuke these people. Restrain their liberty
of preaching." But here some one may
doubt who they are whose liberty to preach
as they list he forbids, — the preachers of
antiquity or the devisers of novelty. Let
himself tell us; let himself resolve th-e
reader's doubt. For he goes on: "If the
case be so (that is, if the case be so as
certain persons complain to me touching your
cities and provinces, that by your hurtful
dissimulation you cause them to consent to
certain novelties), if the case be so, let
novelty cease to assail antiquity." This,
then, was the sentence of blessed Celestine,
not that antiquity should cease to subvert nov-
elty, but that novelty should cease to assail
antiquity.^

CHAPTER XXXin.

The Children of the Catholic Church ought to adhere to the
Faith of their Fathers and die for it.

[86.] Whoever then gainsays these Apos-
tolic and Catholic determinations, first of all
necessarily insults the memory of holy Celes-
tine, who decreed that novelty should cease
to assail antiquity; and in the next place sets
at naught the decision of holy Sixtus, whose
sentence was, "Let no license be allowed to
novelty, since it is not fit that any addition
be made to antiquity;" moreover, he con-
temns the determination of blessed Cyril,
who extolled with high praise the zeal of

' Celestine's letter will be found in the appendix to Vol. x. , Part
II., of St. Augustine's Works, col. 240^, Paris. 1S38. See the
remarks on Vincentius's mode of dealing with Celestine's letter,
Appendix III.

the venerable Capreolus, in that he would fain
have the ancient doctrines of the faith con-
firmed, and novel inventions condemned: yet
more, he tramples upon the Council of
Ephesus, that is, on the decisions of the holy
bishops of almost the whole East, who de-
creed, under divine guidance, that nothing
ought to be believed by posterity save what
the sacred antiquity of the holy Fathers,
consentient in Christ, had held, who with one
voice, and with loud acclaim, testified that
these were the words of all, this was the
wish of all, this was the sentence of all,
that as almost all heretics before Nestorius,
despising antiquity and upholding novelty,
had been condemned, so Nestorius, the
author of novelty and the assailant of antiq-
uity, should be condemned also. \\'hose
consentient determination, in.spired by the
gift of sacred and celestial grace, whoever
disapproves must needs hold the profaneness
of Nestorius to have been condemned un-
justly; finally, he despises as vile and
worthless the whole Church of Christ, and its
doctors, apostles, and prophets, and especially
the blessed Apostle Paul : he despises the
Church, in that she hath never failed in
loyalty to the duty of cherishing and preserv-
ing the faith once for all delivered to her;
he despises St. Paul, who wrote, "O Timothy,
guard the deposit intrusted to thee, shunning
profane novelties of words; "^ and again, "If
any man preach unto you other than ye have
received, let him be accursed."^ But if
neither apostolical injunctions nor ecclesias-
tical decrees may be violated, by which, in
accordance with the sacred consent of univer-
sality and antiquity, all heretics always, and,
last of all, Pelagius, Coelestius, and Nestorius
have been rightly and deservedly condemned,
then assuredly it is incumbent on all Catho-
lics who are anxious to approve themselves
genuine sons of Mother Church, to adhere
henceforward to the holy faith of the holy
Fathers, to be wedded to it, to die in it;
but as to the profane novelties of profane men
— to detest them, abhor them, oppose them,
give them no quarter.

[87.] These matters, handled more at large
in the two preceding Common itories, I have
now put together more briefly by way of
recapitulation, in order that my memory, to
aid which I composed them, may, on the one
hand, be refreshed by frequent reference, and,
on the other, may avoid being wearied by
prolixity.

- Tim. vi. 20.

5 Gal. i. 9,

APPENDIX I.

Note on Section 41, Page 143.

There is so close an agreement, both in substance and often in the form of expression,
between the preceding sections (36-42) and the so-called Athanasian Creed, that it led
Antelmi (Nova de Symb. Athanas. Disquisiiio,) to ascribe that document to Vincentius
as its author, and to suppose that in it we have the fulfilment of the promise here referred
to. If, however, the Creed was the work of Vincentius, it cannot well be the work promised
at the close of § 41, for Vincentius's words point to a fuller and more explicit treatment of
the subjects referred to, whereas in the Athanasian Creed, though the subjects are the same,
the treatment of them is very much briefer and more concise.

Whoever was the author however, if it was not Vincentius, he must at least, as the sub-
joined extracts seem to prove, have been familiar with the Commonitory, as also with St.
Augustine's writings, of which, as well as of the Commonitory, the Creed bears evident traces.

I subjoin the following instances of agreement between the Commonitory and the
Creed : Antelmi gives several others.

COMMONITORY,

ATHANASIAN CREED.

Unum Christum Jesum, non duos, eum- Est ergo Fides recta, ut credamus et con-

demque Deum pariter atque Hominem con- fiteamur, quia Dominus noster Jesus Christus,

fitetur. §36. Dei Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est. v. 28.

Alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia

Spiritus Sancti. § 37. Spiritus Sancti. v. 5.

Unus idemque Christus, Deus et Homo, Deus ex substantia Patris, ante ssecula

Idem Patri et a;qualis et minor, Idem ex Patre genitus. Homo ex substantia Matris, in

ante sscula genitus, Idem in saeculo ex Matre saeculo natus; perfectus Deus perfectus Homo,

generatus, perfectus Deus, perfectus Homo. vv. 29, 30.

§37-

Unus, non corruptibili nescio qua Divini- Unus omnino, non conversione substantias,

talis et Humanitatis confusione, sed integra et sed unitate Personse. v, 34.
singulari quadam unitate Personse. § 37.

Sicut Verbum in came caro, ita Homo in Unus, non conversione Divinitatis in carne,

Deo Deus est. § 40. sed Adsumptione Humanitatis in Deo*^ v. 33.

1 This is probably the true reading.

157

APPENDIX II.

Note on Section 69, Page 149.

That Vincentius had Augustine and his adherents in view in this description will hardly be
doubted by any one who will compare it with the following extracts, the first from Prosper's
letter to Augustine,^ giving him an account of the complaints made against his doctrine by
the Massilian clergy; the second from St. Augustine's treatise, *' De dono Perseveranti "^
written in consequence of it.

COMMONITORY, § 69. PROSPER TO AUGUSTINE.

"Si quis interroget quempiam haereticorum "The Massilian clergy complain," he says,
sibi talia persuadentem, Unde probas, unde " Romoveri omnc7n indusiriatn, tollique vir-
doces quod Ecclesiae Catholicae universalem tutes, si Dei constitutio humanus prseveniat
et antiquam fidem dimittere debeam? Statim voluntates." §3.

ille, ' Scriptmn est enim,' et continuo ynille tes- Then referring to the teaching of the Massil-
tiffionia, mille exe7npla, milk auctoritates parat ians themselves. Prosper continues,
de Lege, de Psah?us, de Aposfolis, de Prophetis, "Ad conditionem banc velint uniuscujusque
quibus, novo et malo more interpretatis, ex hominis pertinere, ut ad cognitionem Dei et
arce Catholica in haereseos barathrum infelix ad obedientiam mandatorum Ejus possit suam
anima praecipitetur. Audent enim polliceri dirigere voluntatem, et ad banc gratiam qua
et docere, quod in Ecclesia sua, id est, in in Christo renascimur pervenire, per natu-
communionis suae conventiculo, fnagna et ralem scilicet facultatem, pete7ido, qiKxrendo,
specialis ac plafie persotialis quaedam sit Dei pulsando.''''

gratia, adeo ut sine ullo labore, sine ullo Referring to the line of argument pursued
studio, sine icUa industria, etiamsi nee petant, by himself and others of Augustine's friends
nee qiKErant, nee pulsent, quicunque illi ad and the Massilian way of dealing with it, he
numerum suum pertinent, tamen ita divinitus says, " Et cum contra eos ScriptaBeatitudinis
dispensentur, ut, angelicis evecti manibus, id tuas validissimis et innumeris testitnoniis JDiri-
est, angelica protectione servati, nunquam narutn Scripturarum instriicta proferimus,
possint offendere ad lapidem pedem suum, id ... obstinatioiiem suam. vetustate defendunt.^^
est, nunquam scandalizari." § 3,

St. Augustine replies to Prosper not in an
ordinary letter, but in two short Treatises,
which must have been written immediately
after its receipt, for he died in August 430,
the first entitled " De Praedestinatione Sanc-
torum," the second "De Dono Perseverantiae."
The following extract is from the latter:
"Attendant ergo quomodo falluntur qui pu-
tant Esse a nobis, non dart Jiobis, ut peta??ius,
quceramus, pulsemus. Et hoc esse, dicunt,
quod gratia praeceditur merito nostro, ut
sequatur ilia cum aecipimus pctctites, et inveni-
mus qucerentes, aperiturque pulsantibus. Nee
volunt intelligere etiam hoc divini muneris
esse ut oremus, hoc est, petamus, quceramus,
atque pulsamus, " — De'Dono Fersev. c. 23, § 64.

Vincentius's language is in keeping with that of others of St. Augustine's opponents, as
Cassian and Faustus, extracts from whom are given by Noris; only, as he observes, while
Vincentius uses the term "heresy" of the doctrine impugned, — they are content to use
the milder term "error." — Histor. Pelag. p. 246.

' Inter Epistolas S. August. Ep. 225. Tom. ii. and again Tom, x. col. 1327. ' Opera ix. col. 1S33.

158

APPENDIX III.

Note on Section 85, Page 156.

Celestine's letter was addressed to certain Bishops of Southern Gaul, who are particular-
ized by name.

It appears that Prosper and Hilary had made a journey to Rome, where they then were,
for the purpose of complaining to Celestine of the connivance of certain bishops of South-
ern Gaul with the unsound teaching of their clergy. They complained too of the disre-
spectful manner in which these same clergy treated the memory of Augustine, then recently
deceased.

Celestine writes to these bishops: blames their connivance with a fault, which, says he,
by their silence they make their own, and then proceeds to charge them, as in the passage
quoted in the text, ''Rebuke these people: restrain their liberty of preaching. If the case
be so, let novelty cease to assail antiquity, let restlessness cease to disturb the Church's
peace." Then, after some further exhortation, he adds, "We cannot wonder at their thus
assailing the living, when they do not shrink from seeking to asperse the memory of the
departed. With Augustine, whom all men everywhere loved and honoured, we ever held
communion. Let a stop be put to this spirit of disparagement, which unhappily is on the
increase."

The manner in which Vincentius deals with this letter has been very commonly thought,
and with reason, to indicate a Semipelagian leaning.^ His "si ita est," "if the case be
so," emphasized by being repeated again and again, quite in an excited manner, as we
should say, shows an evident wish to shift the charge of novelty from those against whom it
had been brought, and fix it upon the opposite party. "Who are the introducers of novelty?
The Massilians, as Prosper represents them, or their calumniators? Not the Massilians:
they notoriously appeal to antiquity, — not the Massilians, but Prosper and the rest of
Augustine's followers."

The feeling with regard to Augustine, on the part of the Massilian clerg)% as indicated
in Celestine's letter, is quite in accordance with the animus of § 69 above. See the note
on that place, and see Noris's remarks, pp. 246-248.

y ~~ ~~ ' '

1 £■£■. " Hunc locum Vincentius Lirinensis sic a vero sensu contra Prosperum et Hilarium detorquet, ut ipse hand injuria in elroris
Semipelagiani suspicionem veniat." The Benedictine editor of St. Augustine's works on Celestine's letter, Tom. x. col. 2403. To the
same purpose, among others, Card. Norris, HUtor. Pelag., 246. Vossius, Hisior. Pelag. Tillemont, T. xv. pp. 145, 862.
Neander, Church History, iv. p. 388.

THE WORKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

TRANSLATED,

WITH PROLEGOMENA, PREFACES, AND NOTES,

REV. EDGAR C. S. GIBSON, M.A.,

PRINCIPAL OF THE THEOLOGICAL COLLEGE, WELLS, SOMERSET.

CONTENTS.

THE INSTITUTES OF THE CCENOBIA.
BOOK I.

OF THE DRESS OF THE MONKS.

PAGE

Chapter I. — Of the monk's girdle 201

Chapter II. — Of the monk's robe 202

Chapter III. — Of the hoods of the Egyptians. 202

Chapter IV. — Of the tunics of the Egyptians 203

Chapter V. — Of their cords 203

Chapter VI. — Of their capes 203

Chapter VII. — Of the sheepskin and the goatskin 203

Chapter VIII. — Of the staff of the Egyptians 203

Chapter IX. — Of their shoes 204

Chapter X. — Of the modification in the observances which may be permitted in accordance with the char-
acter of the climate or the custom of the district • 204

Chapter XI. — Of the spiritual girdle and its mystical meaning 204

BOOK II.

OF THE canonical SYSTEM OF THE NOCTURNAL PRAYERS AND PSALMS.

Chapter I. — Of the canonical system of the nocturnal prayers and Psalms 205

Chapter II. — Of the difference of the number of Psalms appointed to be sung in all the provinces 205

Chapter III. — Of the observance of one uniform rule throughout the whole of Egypt, and of the election

of those who are set over the brethren 205

Chapter IV. — How throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the number of Psalms is fixed at

twelve 206

Chapter V. — How the fact that the number of the Psalms was to be twelve was received from the teaching

of an angel 206

Chapter VI. — Of the custom of having twelve prayers 207

Chapter VII. — Of their method of praying 207

Chapter VIII. — Of the prayer which follows the Psalm *..... 208

Chapter IX. — Of the characteristics of the prayer, the fuller treatment of which is reserved for the Con-
ferences of the Elders 208

Chapter X. — Of the silence and conciseness with which the Collects are offered up by the Egyptians 209

Chapter XI. — Of the system according to which the Psalms are said among the Egyptians 209

Chapter XII. — Of the reason why while one sings the Psalms the rest sit down during the service; and of

the zeal with which they afterwards prolong their vigils in their cells till daybreak 210

Chapter XIII. — The reason why they are not allowed to go to sleep after the night service 210

Chapter XIV. — Of the way in which they devote themselves in their cells equally to manual labour and to

prayer 211

Chapter XV. — Of the discreet rule by which every one must retire to his cell after the close of the prayers;

and of the rebuke to which any one who does otherwise is subject 211

Chapter XVI. — How no one is allowed to pray with one who has been suspended from prayer 211

Chapter XVII. — How he who rouses them for prayer ought to call them at the usual time 212

Chapter XVIII. — How they do not kneel from the evening of Saturday till the evening of Sunday 212

BOOK III.

OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE DAILY PRAYERS AND PSALMS.

Chapter I. — Of the services of the Third, Sixth, and Ninth hours, which are observed in the regions of
Syria

Chapter II. — How among the Egyptians they apply themselves all daylong to prayer and Psalms con-
tinually with the addition of work, without distinction of hours 212

163

212

1 64

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter III. — How throughout all the East the services of Tierce, Sext and None are ended with only
three Psalms and prayers each; and the reasons why these spiritual offices are assigned more particularly
to those hours 213

Chapter IV. — How the Mattin Office was not appointed by an ancient tradition, but was started in our own

day for a definite reason 215

Chapter V. — How they ought not to go back to bed again after the Mattin prayers 215

Chapter VI. — How no change was made by the Elders in the ancient system of Psalms when the Mattin

office was instituted 216

Chapter VII. — How one who does not come to the daily prayer before the end of the first Psalm is not
allowed to enter the Oratory; but at Nocturns a late arrival up to the end of the second Psalm can be
overlooked 216

Chapter VIII. — Of the Vigil service which is celebrated on the evening preceding the Sabbath; of its

length, and the manner in which it is observed 216

Chapter IX. — The reason why a vigil is appointed as the Sabbath day dawns, and why a dispensation from

fasting is enjoyed on the Sabbath all through the East 217

Chapter X. — How it was brought about that they fast on the Sabbath in the city 218

Chapter XI. — Of the points in which the service held on Sunday differs from what is customary on other days

Chapter XII. — Of the days on which, when supper is provided for the brethren, a Psalm is not said as they

assemble for the meal, as is usual at dinner 218

BOOK IV.

OF THE INSTITUTES OF THE RENUNCIANTS.

Chapter I. — Of the training of those who renounce this world, and of the way in which those are taught

among the monks of Tabenna and the Egyptians who are received into the monasteries 219

Chapter II. — Of the way in which among them men remain in the monasteries even to extreme old age 219

Chapter III. — Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the monastery is tested 219

Chapter IV. — The reason why those who are received in the monastery are not allowed to bring anything in

with them 219

Chapter V. — The reason why those who give up the world, when they are received in the monasteries, must

lay aside their own clothes and be clothed in others by the Abbot. 220

Chapter VI. — The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which they joined the monastery are pre-
served by the steward 220

Chapter VII. — The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are not permitted to mix at once with

the congregation of the brethren, but are first committed to the guest house 220

Chapter VIII. — Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that they may become proficient in

overcoming all their desires 221

Chapter IX. — The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back any of their thoughts from the

seniors 221

Chapter X. — How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those things which are matters of

common necessity 221

Chapter*XI. — The kind of food which is considered the greatest delicacy among them. 222

Chapter XII. — How they leave off every kind of work at the sound of some one knocking at the door, in

their eagerness to answer at once 222

Chapter XIII. — How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything, however trifling, is his own. 222
Chapter XIV. — How, even if a large sum of money is amassed by the labour of each, still no one may ven-
ture to exceed the moderate limit of what is appointed as adequate 222

Chapter XV. — Of the excessive desire of possession among us 1 • 223

Chapter XVI. — Of the rules for various rebukes 223

Chapter XVII. — Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons should be read in the Coenobia

while the brethren are eating, and of the strict silence which is kept among the Egyptians 224

Chapter XVIII. — How it is against the rule for anyone to take anything to eat or drink except at the

common table 224

Chapter XIX. — How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service is undertaken by the brethren.- 224

Chapter XX. — Of the three lentil beans which the steward found 225

Chapter XXI. — Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren 225

Chapter XXII. — Of the system of the Egyptians, which is appointed for the daily exercise of the brethren. 226
Chapter XXIII. — Of the obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted even to the grace of prophecy. 226
Chapter XXIV. — Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senior. Abbot John kept on watering as if it

would grow • 226

Chapter XXV. — Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his senior's command 227

Chapter XXVI. — How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge stone, which a large number

of men were unable to move 227

Chapter XXVII. — Of the humihty and obedience of Abbot Patermucius, which he did not hesitate to make

perfect by throwing his little boy into the river at the command of his senior 227

Chapter XXVIII. — How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius, that he had done the deed

of Abraham^ and how when the same Abbot died, Patermucius succeeded to the charge of the monastery. 228

CONTENTS. 165

• PAGE

Chapter XXIX. — Of the obedience of a brother who, at the Abbot's bidding, carried about in pubhc ten

baskets and sold them by retail 228

Chapter XXX. — Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous Coenobium over which he pre-
sided as Presbyter, and out of the love of subjection, sought a distant monastery where he could be received
as a novice 228

Chapter XXXI. — How when Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery he stayed there for a

little while, and then fled again into the regions of Syrian Palestine 229

Chapter XXXII. — The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother whom he admitted into

his monastery in our presence 230

Chapter XXXIII. — How it is that, just as a great reward is due to the monk who labours according to
the regulations of the fathers, so likewise punishment must be inflicted on an idle one; and therefore
no one should be admitted into a monastery too easily 230

Chapter XXXIV. — Of the way in which our renunciation is nothing but mortification and the image of the

Crucified 230

Chapter XXXV. — How the fear of the Lord is our Cross 230

Chapter XXXVI. — How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are again entangled in those

things which we have renounced 23 1

Chapter XXXVII. — How the devil always lies in wait for our end, and how we ought continually to

watch his head 231

Chapter XXXVIII. — Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the few who are worthy

of imitation 23 1

Chapter XXXIX. — Of the way in which we should mount towards perfection, whereby we may afterwards

ascend from the fear of God up to love. 232

Chapter XL. — That the monks should seek for examples of perfection not from many instances, but from

one or a very few 232

Chapter XLI. — The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Coenobium ought to exhibit 232

Chapter XLII. — How a monk should not look for the blessing of patience in his own case as a result of

the virtue of others, but rather as a consequence of his own long suffering 233

Chapter XLIII. — Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up towards perfection 233

BOOK V.

OF THE SPIRIT OF GLUTTONY.

Chapter I. — The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against the eight principal

faults 233

Chapter II. — How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody, are ignored by everybody; and

how we need the Lord's help to make then* plain 234

Chapter III. — How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony; i.e., the pleasures of the

palate 234

Chapter IV. — The testimony of Abbot Antony in which he teaches that each virtue ought to be sought for

from him who possesses it in a special degree. .' 234

Chapter V. — How that one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody 235

Chapter VI. — That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone 235

Chapter VII. — How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart 236

Chapter VIII. — How food should be taken with regard to the aim of perfect continence 236

Chapter IX. — Of the measure of the chastisement to be undertaken, and the remedy of fasting 236

Chapter X. — That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preservation of bodily and mental

purity - 237

Chapter XL — That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire rooting out of vices 237

Chapter XII. — That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from the carnal contests 237

Chapter XIII. — That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we have been set free from the

vice of gluttony 238

Chapter XIV. — How gluttonous desires can be overcome • 238

Chapter XV. — How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart 239

Chapter X VI.— How, after the fashion of the Olympian games, a monk should not attempt spiritual

conflicts unless he has won battles over the flesh 239

Chapter XVII. — That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be laid in the struggle against

gluttony 239

Chapter XVIII. — Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which the blessed apostles

ascended to the crown of the highest combat 240

Chapter XIX. — That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is never without a battle 240

Chapter XX. — How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking food, if he wants to proceed

to the struggle of interior conflicts 241

Chapter XXI . — Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence 24 1

Chapter XXII. —That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence, that we may by this fasting

attain to purity of heart 242

Chapter XXIII. — What should be the character of the monk's food 242

i66 CONTENTS.

. PAGE

Chapter XXIV. — How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without scruple on an arrival 242

Chapter XXV. — Of the abstinence of one old man, who took food six times so sparingly that he was still

hungry 243

Chaffer XXVI. — Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell 243

Chapter XXVII. — What the two Abbots, Pcesius and John, said of the fruits of their zeal 243

Chapter XXVIII. — The Lessons and example which Abbot John when dying left to his disciples 243

Chapter XXIX. — Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual conferences, but always went

to sleep during earthly tales 243

Chapter XXX. — A saying of the same old man about not judging any one 244

Chapter XXXI. — The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren went to sleep during the

spiritual conferences, and woke up when some idle story was told 244

Chapter XXXII. — Of the letters which were burnt without being read 244

Chapter XXXIII. — Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained by prayer 245

Chapter XXXIV. — Of the saying of the same old man through which he taught by what efforts a monk

can acquire a knowledge of the Scriptures 245

Chapter XXXV. — A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell in the middle of the

night 245

Chapter XXXVI. — A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the Anchorites live 246

Chapter XXXVII. — Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their furniture 246

Chapter XXXVIII. — The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labours of his own hands 246

Chapter XXXIX. — Of the device of a certain old man by which some work was found for Abbot Simeon,

when he had nothing to do • 247

Chapter XL. — Of the boys, who, when bringing to a sick man some figs, died in the desert from hunger;

without having tasted them 247

Chapter XLI. — The saying of the Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk, as one who was to live for a

long while, and as one who was daily at the point of death 248

BOOK VI.

ON THE SPIRIT OF FORNICATION.^

BOOK VII.
OF THE SPIRIT OF COVETOUSNESS.

Chapter I. — How our warfare with covetousness is a foreign one, and how this fault is not a natural one in

man, as the other faults are , 248

Chapter II. — How dangerous is the disease of covetousness 248

Chapter III. — What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us 249

Chapter IV. — That we can say that there exist in us some 7tatnral faults without wronging the Creator 249

Chapter V. — Of the faults which are contracted through our own fault, without natural impulses 249

Chapter VI. — How difificult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when once it has been admitted 249

Chapter VII. — Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils of which it is itself the

mother 250

Chapter VIII. — How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues 250

Chapter IX. — How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery 251

Chapter X. — Of the toils which a deserter from a monastery must undergo through covetousness, though he

used formerly to murmur at the very slightest tasks 251

Chapter XL — That, under pretence of keeping the purse, women have to be sought to dwell with them. .. 251

Chapter XII. — An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of covetousness 25 1

Chapter XIIL — What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of stripping off sins 252

Chapter XIV. — Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold 252

Chapter XV. — Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly, and one who does not

renounce it at all 252

Chapter XVI. — Of the authority under which those shelter themselves, who object to stripping themselves

of their goods 253

Chapter XVII. — Of the renunciation of Apostles and the primitive Church 253

Chapter XVIII. — That if we want to imitate the Apostles we ought not to live according to our own pre-
scriptions, but to follow their examples 254

Chapter XIX. — A saying of S. Basil, the Bishop, directed against Syncletius 254

Chapter XX . — How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness 254

Chapter XXI. — How covetousness can be conquered 255

* Omitted in the translation.

CONTENTS. 167

PAGE

Chapter XXII. — That one who actually has no money may still be deemed covetous 255

Chapter XXIII. — An example drawn from the case of Judas 255

Chapter XXIV. — That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping one's self of everything 255

Chapter XXV. — Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira and of Judas, which they underwent, through the

impulse of covetousness 256

Chapter XXVI. — That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy 256

Chapter XXVII. — Scripture proofs by which one who is aiming at perfection is taught not to take back

again what he has given up and renounced 256

Chapter XXVIII. — That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by stripping one's self bare of

everything 256

Chapter XXIX. — How a monk can retain his poverty 256

Chapter XXX. — The remedies against the disease of covetousness < 257

Chapter XXXI. — That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays in the Coenobium; and

how one can remain there 257

BOOK VIII.

OF THE SPIRIT OF ANGER.

Chapter I. — How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how many evils this passion produces. 257
Chapter II. — Of those who say that anger is not injurious, if we are angry with those who do wrong, since

God Himself is said to be angry 258

Chapter III. — Of those things which are spoken of God anthropomorphically 258

Chapter IV. — In what sense we should understand the Passion and human parts which are ascribed to the

unchanging and incorporeal God 258

Chapter V. — How calm a monk ought to be 259

Chapter VI. — Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath 259

Chapter VII. — Of the only case in which anger is useful to us 259

Chapter VIII. — Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger was rightly felt 259

Chapter IX. — Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves 260

Chapter X. — Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon your wrath 260

Chapter XI. — Of those, to whose wrath even the going down of the sun sets no limit 260

Chapter XII. — How this is one end of temper and anger when a man carries it into action as far as he

can 261

Chapter XIII. — That we should not retain our anger even for an instant 261

Chapter XIV. — Of reconciliation with our brother 261

Chapter XV. — How the old Law would root out anger, not only from the actions, but from the thoughts •• 261

Chapter XVI. — How useless is the retirement of those who do not give up their bad manners 262

Chapter XVII. — That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's will, but lies in our own

control 262

Chapter XVIII. — Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the things in which we make

progress there 262

Chapter XIX. — An illustration to help in forming an opinion on those who are only patient when they are

not tried by any one 262

Chapter XX. — How anger should be banished according to the Gospel 263

Chapter XXI. — Whether we ought to admit the addition of " without a cause " in that which is written in

the Gospel * ' whoever is angry with his brother, "etc. •• 263

Chapter XXII. — The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts 263

BOOK IX.

OF the spirit of dejection.

Chapter I. — How our fifth combat is against the spirit of dejection, and of the harm which it inflicts upon

the soul 264

Chapter II. — Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed 264

Chapter III. — To what the soul may be compared, which is a prey to the attacks of dejection. 264

Chapter IV. — Whence and in what way dejection arises 265

Chapter V. — That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other people but by our own 265

Chapter VI. — That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed by falling through a long

course of carelessness • • • 265

Chapter VII. — That we ought not to give up intercourse with our brethren in order toseek after perfection,

but should rather constantly cultivate the virtue of patience 265

Chapter VIII. — That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to get on with everybody 265

Chapter IX. — Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of salvation 265

1 68 CONTENTS.

PAGB

Chapter X. — Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us 266

Chapter XI. — How we can decide what is useful, and the sorrow according to God, and what is devilish

and deadly '• 266

Chapter XII. — That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three ways,.all sorrow and dejec-
tion should be resisted as hurtful 266

Chapter XIII. ■ — The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts 266

BOOK X. • .

OF THE SPIRIT OF ACCIDIE.

Chapter I. — How our sixth combat is against the spirit of Accidie, and what its character is 266

Chapter II. — A description of Accidie, and the way in which it creeps over the heart of a monk, and the

injur}' it inflicts on the soul 267

Chapter III. — Of the different ways in which Accidie overcomes a monk 267

Chapter IV. — How Accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the virtues 267

Chapter V. — How the attack of Accidie is twofold 268

Chapter VI. — How injurious are the effects of Accidie 268

Chapter VII. — Testimonies from the apostle concerning the spirit of Accidie 268

Chapter VIII. — That he is sure to be restless who will not be content with the work of his own hands. . . . 269
Chapter IX. — That not the Apostle only, but those too who were with him, laboured with their own hands- 270
Chapter X. — That for this reason the Apostle laboured with his own hands that he might set us an example

of work - 270

Chapter XI. — That he preached and taught men to work, not only by his example, but also by his words.. 270

Chapter XII. — Of his saying, " If any will not work neither shall he eat " 271

Chapter XIII. — -Of his saying, " We have heard that some among you walk disorderly " 271

Chapter XIV. — How manual labour prevents many faults. 271

Chapter XV. — How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless 271

Chapter XVI. — How we ought to admonish those who go wrong, not out of hatred, but out of love 272

Chapter XVII. — Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought to work, or in which it is

shown that he himself worked 272

Chapter XVIII. — That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient for him and for others

who were with him 272

Chapter XIX. — How we should understand these words: " It is more blessed to give than to receiye." • . • 272

Chapter XX. — Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the monastery 273

Chapter XXI. — Different passages from the writings of Solomon against Accidie 273

Chapter XXII. — How the brethren in Egypt work with their hands, not only to supply their own needs,

but also to minister to those who are in prison 274

Chapter XXIII. — That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for monks in the West 274

Chapter XXIV. — Of Abbot Paul, who every year burnt with fire all the works of his hands 274

Chapter XXV. — The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure of Accidie 275

BOOK XI.

OF the spirit of vain-glory.

Chapter I. — How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vain-glory, and what its nature is 275

Chapter II. — How vain-glory attacks a monk, not only on his carnal, but also on his spiritual side 275

Chapter III. — How many forms and shapes vain-glory takes 275

Chapter IV. — How vain-glory attacks a monk on the right hand and on the left 276

Chapter V. — A comparison which shows the nature of vain-glory 276

Chapter VI. — That vain-glory is not altogether got rid of by the advantages of solitude 276

Chapter VII. — How vain-glory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener than ever for the fight 276

Chapter VIII. — How vain-glory is not allayed either in the desert or through advancing years 277

Chapter IX. — That vain-glory is the more dangerous through being mixed up with virtues 277

Chapter X. — An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overtaken by the dart of vain-glory 277

Chapter XI. — The instance of King Uzziah, who was overcome by the taint of the same malady 277

Chapter XII. — Several testimonies against vain-glory 278

Chapter XIII. — Of the ways in which vain-glory attacks a monk 278

Chapter XIV. — How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders 278

Chapter XV. — How vain-glory intoxicates the mind 278

Chapter XVI. — Of one whom the superior came upon, and found in his cell deluded by idle vain-glory.. •• 278

Chapter XVII. — How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have been discovered 279

Chapter XVIII. — How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops 279

Chapter XIX. — Remedies by which we can overcome vain-glory 279

CONTENTS. 169

BOOK XII.

OF THE SPIRIT OF PRIDE.

PAGE

Chapter I. — How our eighth combnt is against the spirit of pride, and of its character 280

Chapter II. — How there are two kinds of pride 280

Chapter III. — How pride is equally destructive of all virtues 280

Chapter IV. — How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel into a devil 280

Chapter V. — That incentives to all sins spring from pride 281

Chapter VI. — That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat, but first in time and origin- .. 281

Chapter VII. — That the evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God Himself as its adversary 281

Chapter VIII. — How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of humility, and various

passages in proof of this 282

Chapter IX. — How we too may overcome pride 282

Chapter X. — How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss by his own strength alone 2S2

Chapter XI. — The case of the thief and of David and of our call in order to illustrate the grace of God.. . . 283

Chapter XII. — That no evil is worthy to be compared with the promised bliss 2S3

Chapter XIII. — The teaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity 283

Chapter XIV. — That the help of God is given to those who labour 283

Chapter XV. — From whom we can learn the way of perfection 284

Chapter XVI. — That we cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection without the mercy and inspiration

of God 284

Chapter XVII. — Various passages, which clearly show that we cannot do anything which belongs to our

salvation without the aid of God 284

Chapter XVIII. — How we are protected by the grace of God, not only in our natural condition, but also by

His Providence 285

Chapter XIX. — How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to us by the ancient Fathers. . . . 286

Chapter XX. — Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most unclean spirit 286

Chapter XXI. — The instance of Joash King of Judah, showing what was the consequence of his pride.. .. 286

Chapter XXII. — That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness, to be deceived by it 2S7

Chapter XXIII. — How perfection can only be attained through the grace of humility 287

Chapter XXIV. — Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride. 2S7

Chapter XXV. — A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it produces in the soul of a monk... 2S7

Chapter XXVI. — That a man whose foundation is bad sinks daily from bad to worse 2S8

Chapter XXVII. — A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride 28S

Chapter XXVIII. — Of the pride of a certain brother 289

Chapter XXIX. — The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal pride in a soul 2S9

Chapter XXX. — How when a man has grown cold through pride, he wants to be put to rule over other

people 289

Chapter XXXI. — How we can overcome pride and attain perfection. 290

Chapter XXXII. — How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be destroyed by true

humility 290

Chapter XXXIII. — Remedies against the evil of pride 290

THE FIRST PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN, CONTAINING CONFERENCES

I-X. PREFACE.

I. — First Conference of Abbot Moses; on the Goal or Aim of the Monk.

Chapter I. — Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot Moses 295

Chapter II. — Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal and what the end of the

monk. 295

Chapter III. — Of our reply 296

Chapter IV. — Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement 296

Chapter V. — A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark 296

Chapter VI. — Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love 297

Chapter VII. — How peace of mind should be sought 297

Chapter VIII. — Of the main effort towards the contemplation of heavenly things, and an illustration from

the case of Martha and Mary 298

Chapter IX. — A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain with a man 298

Chapter X. — The answer that not the reward, but the doing of the works will come to an end 299

Chapter XI. — Of the abiding character of love. 299

Chapter XII. — A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation 300

Chapter XIII. — The answer concerning the direction of the heart 300

Chapter XIV. — Of the continuance of the soul 301

Chapter XV. — How we must meditate on God 302

Chapter XVI. — A question on the changing character of the thoughts 303

I70 CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter XVII. — The answer what the mind can, and what it cannot do with regard to the state of its

thoughts 303

Chapter XVIII. — Comparison of a soul and a mill-stone 303

Chapter XIX. — Of the threefold origin of our thoughts 304

Chapter XX. — About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a good money changer 304

Chapter XXI. — Of the illusion of Abbot John 306

Chapter XXII. — Of the fourfold method of discrimination 306

Chapter XXIII. — Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his hearers 306

II. — The Second Conference of Abbot Moses; on Discretion.

Chapter I. — Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion 307

Chapter II. — What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the blessed Antony on this

subject 308

Chapter III. — Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived through lack of discretion-. 309

Chapter IV. — What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture 309

Chapter V. — Of the death of the old man Heron 310

Chapter VI. — Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion 310

Chapter VII. — Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion 311

Chapter VIII. — Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia 311

Chapter IX. — A question about the acquirement of discretion 311

Chapter X. — The answer how true discretion may be gained 311

Chapter XI. — The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed to others, and

also on the danger of self-confidence 312

Chapter XII. — A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal our thoughts to the elders... 313
Chapter XIII. — The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the danger of one without

contrition 313

Chapter XIV. — Of the call of Samuel 315

Chapter XV. — Of the call of the Apostle Paul 316

Chapter XVI. — How to seek for discretion 316

Chapter XVII. — On excessive fasts and vigils 316

Chapter XVIII. — A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment 316

Chapter XIX. — Of the best plan for our daily food 317

Chapter XX. — An objection, on the case of that abstinence, in which a man is sustained by two biscuits. • • 317

Chapter XXI. — The answer concerning the value and measure of well proved abstinence 317

Chapter XXII. — What is the usual limit both of abstinence, and of partaking food 317

Chapter XXIII. — Quemadmodum abundantia umorem genitalium castigetur 317

Chapter XXIV. — Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating, and of the gluttony of Brother Benjamin 317

Chapter XXV. — A question how it is possible always to observe one and the same measure 318

Chapter XXVI. — The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of food. 318

III. — Conference of Abbot Paphnutius ; on the Three Sorts of Renunciations.

Chapter I. — Of the life and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius 319

Chapter II. — Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it 319

Chapter III. — The statement of Abbot Paphnutius on the three kinds of vocations, and the three sorts of

renunciations 320

Chapter IV. — An explanation of the three callings 320

Chapter V. — How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and the last is no hindrance to one

who is in earnest 321

Chapter VI. — An account of the three sorts of renunciations 321

Chapter VII. — How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renunciations 322

Chapter VIII. — Of our very own possessions, in which the beauty of the soul is seen or its foulness 323

Chapter IX. — Of three sorts of possessions 324

Chapter X. — That no one can become perfect merely through the first grade of renunciation 324

Chapter XI — A question on the free-will of man and the grace of God 325

Chapter XII. — The answer on the economy of Divine grace with free-will still remaining in us 325

Chapter XIII. — That the ordering of our way comes from God 326

Chapter XIV. — That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illumination of the Lord 326

Chapter XV. — That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize God's commands and the

performance of a good will, are gifts from the Lord 326

Chapter XVI. — That faith itself must be given us by the Lord 327

Chapter XVII. — That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be given us by the Lord 328

Chapter XVIII. — That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the Lord 328

Chapter XIX. — That the beginning of our good-will and its completion come from God 328

Chapter XX. — That nothing can be done in this world without God 329

Chapter XXI. — An objection on the power of free-will 329

Chapter XXII. — The answer, viz., that our free-will always has need of the help of the Lord 329

CONTENTS. 171

IV. — Conference of Abbot Daniel; on the Lust of the Flesh and of the Spirit.

PAGE

Chapter I. — Of the life of Abbot Daniel 330

Chapter II. — An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling from inexpressible joy to

extreme dejection of mind • 33 1

Chapter III. — His answer to the question raised 331

Chapter I\'. — How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allowance of God 331

Chapter V. — How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God's help 331

Chapter VI. — How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God 332

Chapter VII. — Of the value of the conflicts which the Apostle makes to consist in the struggle between the

flesh and the spirit 332

Chapter \'III. — A question how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he has spoken of the lusts of the

flesh and spirit opposing one another, he adds a third thing, viz., man's will 333

Chapter IX. — The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly 333

Chapter X. — That the word " flesh " is not used with one single meaning only 333

Chapter XI. — What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage; and what the lust of the flesh is 333

Chapter XII. — What is our free-will which stands in between the lust of the flesh and the spirit 334

Chapter XIII. — Of the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle between the flesh and spirit. 335

Chapter XIV. — Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickedness 335

Chapter XV. — Of the value of the lust of the flesh against the spirit in our case 336

Chapter XVI. — Of the excitement of the flesh, without the humiliation of which we should fall more

grievously • 33^

Chapter XVII. — Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs 336

Chapter XVIII. — The question what is the difference between the carnal and natural man 336

Chapter XIX. — Answer concerning the threefold condition of souls '■ 336

Chapter XX. — Of those who renounce the world but ill 338

Chapter XXI. — Of those who having made light of great things busy themselves about trifles 338

V. — Conference of Abbot Serapion; on the Eight Principal Faults.

Chapter I. — Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the different kinds of faults, and the way

to overcome them 339

Chapter II. — • Abbot Serapion's enumeration of the eight principal faults 339

Chapter III. — Of the two classes of faults, and their fourfold manner of acting upon us 339

Chapter IV. — A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication, and their remedies 339

Chapter V. — How our Lord alone was tempted without sin 340

Chapter VI. — Of the manner of the temptatioij in which our Lord was attacked by the devil 341

Chapter VII. — How vain-glory and pride can be consummated without any assistance from the body 342

Chapter VIII. — Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and of the difference between it

and those faults which are natural to us 342

Chapter IX. — How dejection and Accidie generally arise without any external provocation, as in the case

of other faults 342

Chapter X. — How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ from them are akin to one

another 343

Chapter XI. — Of the origin and character of each of these faults 343

Chapter XII. — How vain-glory may be useful to us 344

Chapter XIII, — Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us 345

Chapter XIV. — Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults when they attack us 345

Chapter XV. — How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of God, and how we should not

be puffed up by victories over them 34^

Chapter XVI. — Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands Israel took possession, and the reason

why they are sometimes spoken of as " seven " and sometimes as " many " 347

Chapter XVII. — A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations with eig/tt faults 348

Chapter XVIII. — The answer how the number of «>/^/ nations is made up in accordance with the eight

faults 348

Chapter XIX. — The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are commanded to be destroyed. 348

Chapter XX. — Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the simile of the eagle 349

Chapter XXI. — Of the lasting character of gluttony as upheld against some philosophers 349

Chapter XXII. — How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would have to drive out ten nations. 349

Chapter XXIII. — How it is useful for us to take possession of their lands 349

Chapter XXIV. —How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled had been assigned to the seed of

Shem 350

Chapter XXV. — Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight faults 350

Chapter XXVI. — How, when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony, we must take pains to gain

all the other virtues 35°

Chapter XXVII. — That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same order as that in which they

stand in the list ^ 35^

172 CONTENTS.

VI. — Conference of Abbot Theodore; on the Death of the Saints.

PAGE

Chapter I. — Description of the wilderness, and the question about the death of the saints 351

Chapter II. — Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him 352

Chapter III. — Of the three kinds of things that there are in the world, viz., good, bad, and indifferent.. .. 352

Chapter IV. — How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against his will 353

Chapter V. — An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil 354

Chapter VI. — The answer to the question proposed 354

Chapter VII. — A question whether the man who causes the death of a good man is guilty, if the good man

is the gainer by his death. 354

Chapter VIII. — The answer to the foregoing question 355

Chapter IX. — The case of Job who was tempted by the devil, and of the Lord who was betrayed by Judas,

and how prosperity as well as adversity is advantageous to a good man 355

Chapter X. — Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively spoken of as ambidextrous 356

Chapter XI. — Of the two kinds of trials which come upon us in a threefold way , 357

Chapter XII. — How the upright man ought to be like a stamp, not of wax, but of hard steel 359

Chapter XIII. — A question whether the man can constantly continue in one and the same condition 359

Chapter XIV. — The answer to the points raised by the questioner 359

Chapter XV. — How one loses by going away from one's cell 360

Chapter XVI. — How even celestial powers above are capable of change 360

Chapter XVII. — That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall 361

VII. — First Conference of Abbot Serenus ; on Inconstancy of Mind and Spiritual Wickedness.

Chapter I. — Of the chastity of Abbot Serenus 361

Chapter II. — The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our thoughts 361

Chapter III. — Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts 362

Chapter IV. — The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its excellence 363

Chapter V. — Of the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison of the centurion in the Gospel.. 363

Chapter VI. — Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts 365

Chapter VII. — A question on the roving tendency of the mind, and the attacks of spiritual wickedness- . • 365

Chapter VIII. — The answer on the help of God and the power of free-will 365

Chapter IX. — A question on the union of the soul with devils 366

Chapter X. — The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls 366

Chapter XI. — An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or united with the souls of those

whom they have filled 366

Chapter XII. — The answer how it is that unclean spirits can Igrd it over the possessed 3^6

Chapter XIII. — How spirits cannot be penetrated by spirits, and how God alone is incorporeal 366

Chapter XIV. — An objection as to how we ought to believe that devils see into the thoughts of men 367

Chapter XV. - — The answer, what devils can, and what they cannot do, in regard to the thoughts of men. . . 367

Chapter XVI. — An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean spirits know the thoughts of men.. 367

Chapter XVII. — Of the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting every passion to men. 36S

Chapter XVIII. — A question whether among the devils there is any order observed in the attack, or system

in its changes 368

Chapter XIX. — The answer, how far an agreement exists among devils about the attack and its changes. . . 368
Chapter XX. — Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness, and that the occasions of

temptation are not under their own control. 36S

Chapter XXI. — Of the fact that devils struggle with men not without effort on their part 369

Chapter XXII. — Of the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the will of the devils 370

Chapter XXIII. — Of the diminished power of the devils 370

Chapter XXIV. — Of the way in which the devils prepare for themselves an entrance into the bodies of

those whom they are going to possess 371

Chapter XXV. — Of the fact that those men are more wretched who are possessed by sins than those who

are possessed by devils 371

Chapter XXVI. — Of the death of the prophet who was led astray, and of the infirmity of the A1)bot Paul,

with which he was visited for the sake of his cleansing 371

Chapter XXVII. — Of the temptation of Abbot Moses 372

Chapter XXVIII. — How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to unclean spirits 372

Chapter XXIX. — An objection, asking why those who are tormented by unclean spirits are separated from

the Lord's communion 372

Chapter XXX. — The answer to the question raised 373

Chapter XXXI. — Of the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it is not given to be subjected

to those temporal teni]3tations 373

Chapter XXXII. — Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers of the air 374

Chapter XXXIII. — A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of evil in the sky 374

Chapter XXXIV. — The postponement of the answer to the question raised 375

CONTENTS. I

/v)

VIII. — The Second Conference of Ahhot Serenus; on Principalities.

PAGE

Chapter I. — Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus 375

Chapter II. — A ciucstion propounded on the different kinds of spiritual wickedness 375

Chapter III. — The answer on the many kinds of food provided in Holy Scripture 376

Chapter IV. — Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken 377

Chapter V. — Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included among those things to be held in

a neutral or doubtful way 377

Chapter VI. — Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God 377

Chapter VII. — Of the origin of principalities or powers 377

Chapter VIII. — Of the fall of the devil and the angels 378

Chapter IX. — An objection stating that the fall of the devil took its origin from the deception of Eve- • • • 378

Chapter X. — The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall , 378

Chapter XI. — The punishment of the deceiver and the deceived 379

Chapter XII. — Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they always raise in our

atmosphere 379

Chapter XIII. — Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack which they aim at men, even against each

other 380

Chapter XIV. — How it is that spiritual wickedness obtained the names of powers or principalities 380

Chapter XV. — Of the fact that it as not without reason that the names of angels and archangels are given

to holy and heavenly powers 381

Chapter XVI. — Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their own princes, as seen in a

brother's vision ." 381

Chapter XVII. — Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man 381

Chapter XVIII. — Of the degrees of wickedness which exist in hostile spirits, as shown in the case of two

philosophers • 382

Chapter XIX. — Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless they have first secured

possession of their minds. 382

Chapter XX. — A question about the fallen angels who are said in Genesis to have had intercourse with the

daughters of men • 382

Chapter XXI. — The answer to the question raised 383

Chapter XXII. • — -An objection as to how an unlawful intermingling with the daughters of Cain could be

charged against the line of Seth before the prohibition of the law 384

Chapter XXIII. — The answer that by the law of nature men were from the beginning liable to judgment

and punishment 384

Chapter XXIV. — Of the fact that they were justly punished who sinned before the flood 385

Chapter XXV. — How this that is said of the devil in the Gospel is to be understood, viz., that " he is a liar

and his father " 386

IX. — The First Conference of Abbot Isaac; on Prayer,

Chapter I. — Introduction to the Conference 387

Chapter II. — The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer 387

Chapter III. — How pure and sincere prayer can be gained 3^^

Chapter IV. — Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a wing or feather 3^^

Chapter V. — Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down 388

Chapter VI. — Of the vision which a certain elder saw concerning the restless work of a brother 389

Chapter VII. —A question how it is that it is harder work to preserve than to originate good thoughts 39°

Chapter VIII. — The answer on the different characters of prayer 390

Chapter IX. — Of the four kinds of prayer 391

Chapter X. — Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the character of prayer 391

Chapter XI. — Of supplication 391

Chapter XII. — Of prayer 391

Chapter XIII. — Of intercession 391

Chapter XIV. — Of thanksgiving • 392

Chapter XV. — Whether these fqur kinds of prayers are necessary for every one to offer all at once or

separately and in turns 392

Chapter XVI. — Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves 392

Chapter XVII. — How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the Lord 393

Chapter XVIII. — Of the Lord's Prayer 393

Chapter XIX. — Of the clause "Thy kingdom come " 394

Chapter XX. — Of the clause " Thy will be done " 394

Chapter XXI. — Of our supersubstantial or daily bread 394

Chapter XXII. — Of the clause " Forgive us our debts, etc." 395

Chapter XXIII. — Of the clause ' ' Lead us not into temptation " 395

Chapter XXIV. — How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those which are contained in the

limits of the Lord's Prayer 396

Chapter XXV. — Of the character of the sublimer prayer 396

Chapter XXVI. — Of the different causes of conviction 396

174 CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter XXVII. — Of the different sorts of conviction 396

Chapter XXVIII. — A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is not in our own power 397

Chapter XXIX. — The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from tears 397

Chapter XXX. — How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not flow spontaneously 397

Chapter XXXI. — The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer 39S

Chapter XXXII. — Of the proof of prayer being heard . . . . , 398

Chapter XXXIII. — An objection that the confidence of being heard as described belongs only to saints.. . 398

Chapter XXXIV. — The answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard 39S

Chapter XXXV. — Of prayer to be offered within the chamber and with the door shut. 400

Chapter XXXVI. — Of the value of short and silent prayer 400

X. — The Second Conference of Abbot Isaac; on Prayer.

Chapter I. — Introduction 401

Chapter II. — Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for signifying the time of Easter.. 401
Chapter III. —Of Abbot Serapion, and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites, into which he fell in the

error of simplicity 402

Chapter IV. — Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the error into which the aforesaid old

man had fallen 402

Chapter V. — The answer on the origin of the heresy described above 403

Chapter VI. — Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us either in His humility or in His

glorified condition 403

Chapter VII. — What constitutes our end and perfect bliss 404

Chapter VIII. — A question on the training in perfection by which we can arrive at perpetual recollection

of God 404

Chapter IX. — The answer on the efficacy of understanding which is gained by experience 405

Chapter X. — Of the method of continual prayer 405

Chapter XI. — Of the perfection of prayer, to which we can rise by the system described 407

Chapter XII. — A question as to how spiritual thoughts can be retained without losing them 408

Chapter XIII. — Of the lightness of thoughts 408

Chapter XIV. — The answer how we can gain stability of hearts or of thoughts 409

THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN, CONTAINING XI.-

XVII. PREFACE.

XI. — The First Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on Perfection.

Chapter I. — Description of the town of Thennesus 415

Chapter II. — Of Bishop Archebius 415

Chapter III. — Description of the desert where Chceremon, Nesteros, and Joseph lived 416

Chapter IV. — Of Abbot Chceremon and his excuse about the teaching which we asked for 416

Chapter V. — Of our answer to his excuse 416

Chapter VI. — Abbot Choeremon's statements that faults can be overcome in three ways 416

Chapter VII. — By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love, and what permanence there is in it. . . . 417

Chapter VIII. — How greatly those excel who depart from sin through the feeling of love 418

Chapter IX. — That love not only makes sons out of servants, but also bestows the image and likeness of

God. 418

Chapter X. — How it is the perfection of love to pray for one's enemies, and by what signs we may recog-
nize a mind that is not yet purified 419

Chapter XI. — A question why he has called the feeling of fear and hope imperfect 419

Chapter XII. — The answer on the different kinds of perfection 420

Chapter XIII. — Of the fear which is the outcome of the greatest love 421

Chapter XIV. — A question about complete chastity 422

Chapter XV. — The postponement of the explanation which is asked for 422

XII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on Chastity. ^

XIII. — The Third Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on the Protection of God.

Chapter I. — Introduction 422

Chapter II. — A question why the merit of good deeds may not be ascribed to the exertions of the man

who does them 423

Chapter III. — The answer that without God's help, not only perfect chastity, but good of every kind,

cannot be performed 423

■ Omitted in the translation.

CONTENTS.

175

PAGE

Chapter IV. — An objection, asking; how the Gentiles can be said to have chastity without the grace of God, 424

ChaI'TER V. — The answer on the imaginary chastity of the philosophers 424

ChaI'TER VI. — That without the grace of God we cannot make any diligent efforts 424

Chapter VII. — Of the main purpose of God, and His daily providence 425

Chapter VIII. — Of the grace of God and the freedom of the will 426

Chapter IX. — Of the power of our good will, and the grace of God 426

Chapter X. — Of the weakness of free-will 427

Chapter XI. — Whether the grace of God precedes or follows our good will 427

Chapter XII. — That a good will should not always be attributed to grace, nor always to man himself 428

Chapter XIII. — How human efforts cannot be set against the grace of God 430

Chapter XIV. — How God makes trial of the strength of man's will by means of his temptations 430

Chapter XV. — Of the manifold grace of men's calls 432

Chapter XVI. — Of the grace of God, to the effect that it transcends the narrow limits of human faith .... 433

Chapter XVII. — Of the inscrutable providence of God 433

Chapter XVIII. — The decision of the Fathers that free-will is not equal to save a man 434

XIV. — The First Conference of Abbot Nesteros ; on Spiritual Knowledge.

Chapter I. — The words of Abbot Nesteros on the knowledge of the religious 435

Chapter II. — Of grasping the knowledge of spiritual things 435

Chapter III. — How practical perfection depends on a double system 435

Chapter IV. — How practical life is distributed among many different professions and interests 436

Chapter V. — Of perseverance in the line that has been chosen 436

Chapter VI. — How the weak are easily moved 436

Chapter VII. — An instance of chastity which teaches us that all men should not be emulous of all things-. 437

Chapter VIII. — Of spiritual knowledge 437

Chapter IX. — How from practical knowledge we must proceed to spiritual 438

Chapter X. — How to embrace the system of true knowledge 439

Chapter XI. — Of the manifold meaning of Holy Scripture 440

Chapter XII. — A question how we can attain to forgetfulness of the cares of this world 441

Chapter XIII. — Of the method by which we can remove the dross from our memory 441

Chapter XIV. — How an unclean soul can neither give nor receive spiritual knowledge 442

Chapter XV. — An objection owing to the fact that many impure persons have knowledge while saints have

not 442

Chapter XVI. — The answer to the effect that bad men cannot possess true knowledge 443

Chapter XVII. — To whom the method of perfection shall be laid open 444

Chapter XVIII. — Of the reasons for which spiritual learning is unfruitful 445

Chapter XIX. — How often even those who are not worthy can receive the grace of the saving word 445

XV. — The Second Conference of Abbot Nesteros ; on Divine Gifts.

Chapter I. — Discourse of Abbot Nesteros on the threefold system of gifts 445

Chapter II. — Wherein one ought to admire the saints 446

Chapter III. — Of a dead man raised to life by Abbot Macarius 446

Chapter IV. — Of the miracle which Abbot Abraham wrought on the breasts of a woman 447

Chapter V. — Of the cure of a lame man which the same saint wrought 447

Chapter VI. — How the merits of each man should not be judged by his miracles 447

Chapter VII. — How the excellence of gifts consists, not in miracles, but in humility 448

Chapter VIII. — How it is more wonderful to have cast out one's faults from one's self than devils from

another 44S

Chapter IX. — How uprightness of life is of more importance than the working of miracles 449

Chapter X. — A revelation on the trial of perfect chastity 449

XVI. — The First Conference of Abbot Joseph; on Friendship.

Chapter I. — What Abbot Joseph asked us in the first instance 450

Chapter II. — Discourse of the same elder on the untrustworthy sort of friendship 450

Chapter III. — How friendship is indissoluble 450

Chapter IV. — A question whether anything that is really useful should be performed even against a

brother's wish 45 1

Chapter V. — The answer, how a lasting friendship can only exist among those who are perfect 451

Chapter VI. — By what means union can be preserved unbroken 451

Chapter VII. — How nothing should be put before love or after anger 452

Chapter VIII. — On what grounds a dispute can arise among spiritual persons 453

Chapter IX. — How to get rid even of spiritual grounds of discord 453

Chapter X. — Of the best test of truth 453

Chapter XI. — How it is impossible for one who trusts to his own judgment to escape being deceived by the

devil's illusion 453

176

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter XII. — Why inferiors should not be despised in conference 454

Chapter XIII. — How love does not only belong to God, but is God 454

Chapter XIV. — On the different grades of love 454

Chapter XV. — Of those who only increase their own or their brother's grievances by hiding them 455

Chapter XVI. — How it is that if our brother has any grudge against us, the gifts of our prayers are

rejected by the Lord 455

Chapter XVII. — Of those who hold that patience should be shown to worldly people rather than to the

brethren 455

Chapter XVIII. — Of those who pretend to patience, but excite their brethren to anger by their silence. • • • 456

Chapter XIX . — Of those who fast out of rage 457

Chapter XX. — Of the feigned patience of some who offer the other cheek to be smitten. 457

Chapter XXI. — A question how if we obey the commands of Christ we can fail of evangelical perfection-. 457

Chapter XXII. — The answer that Christ looks not only at the action, but also at the will 457

Chapter XXIII. — How he is the strong and vigorous man, who yields to the will of another 458

Chapter XXIV. — How the weak are harmful and cannot bear wrongs 45S

Chapter XXV. — A question how he can be strong who does not always support the weak 458

Chapter XXVI. — The answer that the weak does not always allow himself to be borne 458

Chapter XXVII. — How anger should be repressed ■ 459

Chapter XXVIII. — How friendships entered upon by conspiracy cannot be lasting ones 460

XVII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Joseph; on Making Promises.

Chapter I. — Of the vigils which we endured. 460

Chapter II. — Of the anxiety of Abbot Germanus at the recollection of our promise 460

Chrpter III. — My ideas on this subject 460

Chapter IV. — Abbot Joseph's question, and our answer on the origin of our anxiety 461

Chapter V. — The explanation of Abbot Germanus why we wanted to stay in Egypt, and were drawn back

to Syria 461

Chapter VI. — Abbot Joseph's question whether we got more good in Egypt than in Syria. 461

Chapter VII. — The answer on the difference of customs in the two countries 461

Chapter VIII. — How those who are perfect ought not to make any promises absolutely, and whether

decisions can be reversed without sin *. 462

Chapter IX. — How it is often better to break one's engagements than to fulfil them 462

Chapter X. — Our question about our fear of the oath which we gave in the monastery in Syria 462

Chapter XI. —The answer that we must take into account the purpose of the doer rather than the execution

of the business 4^3

Chapter XII. — How a fortunate issue will be of no avail to evil-doers, while bad deeds will not injure

good men 463

Chapter XIII. — Our answer as to the reason which demanded an oath from us 463

Chapter XIV. — The discourse of the elder, showing how the plan of action may be changed without fault

provided that one keeps to the carrying-out of a good intention 464

Chapter XV. — A question whether it can be without sin that our knowledge affords to weak brethren an

opportunity for lying 4^4

Chapter XVI; — The answer that Scripture truth is not to be altered on account of an offence given to the

weak 464

Chapter XVII. — How the saints have profitably employed a lie like hellebore 464

Chapter XVIII. — An objection that only those men employed lies with impunity who lived under the law. . 465
Chapter XIX. — The answer that leave to lie, which was not even granted under the old Covenant, has

rightly been taken by many 4^6

Chapter XX. — How even Apostles thought that a lie was often useful, and the truth injurious 467

Chapter XXI. — Whether secret abstinence ought to be made known, without telling a lie about it, to those

who ask, and whether what has once been declined may be taken in hand 4^^^

Chapter XXII. — An objection that abstinence ought to be concealed, but that things that have been

declined should not lie received 4^9

Chapter XXIII. — The answer that obstinacy in this decision is unreasonable 469

Chapter XXIV. — How Abbot Piamun chose to hide his abstinence 4^9

Chapter XXV. — The evidence of Scripture on changes of determination 469

Chapter XXVI. — How saintly men cannot be hard and obstinate 47^

Chapter XXVII. — A question whether the saying, "I have sworn and am purposed," is opposed to the

view given above 47^

Chapter XXVIII. — The answer telling in what cases the determination is to be kept fixedly, and in what

cases it may be broken if need be 473

Chapter XXIX. — How we ought to do those things which are to be kept secret 473

Chapter XXX. — That no determination should be made on those things which concern the needs of the

common life 473

CONTENTS.

177

THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN,

PREFACE.

CONTAINING XVIII.-XXIV.

XVIII. — Conference of Abbot Piamun; on the Three Sorts of Monks.

PAGE

Chapter I. — How we came to Diolcos and were received by Abbot Piamun. 479

Chapter II. — The words of Abbot Piamun, how monks who were novices ought to be taught by the

example of their elders 479

Chapter III. — How the juniors ought not to discuss the orders of the seniors 480

Chapter IV. — Of the three sorts of monks which there are in Egypt 480

Chapter V. — Of the founders who originated the order of Ccenobites 4S0

Chapter VI. — Of the system of the Anchorites and its beginning 481

Chapter VII. — Of the origin of the Sarabaites, and their mode of life 482

Chapter VIII. — Of a fourth sort of monks 483

Chapter IX. — A question as to what is the difference between a Coenobium and a monastery 483

Chapter X. — The answer ■ 483 .

Chapter XI. — Of true humility; and how Abbot Serapion exposed the mock humility of a certain man. . . . 483

Chapter XII. — A question how true patience can be gained 484

Chapter XIII. — The answer 484

Chapter XIV. — Of the example of patience given by a certain religious woman 485

Chapter XV. — Of the example of patience given by Abbot Paphnutius 486

Chapter XVI. — Of the perfection of patience 487

XIX. — Conference of Abbot John; on the Aim of the Ccenobite and Hermit.

Chapter I. — Of the Coenobium of Abbot Paul, and the patience of a certain brother 489

Chapter II. — Of Abbot John's humility, and our question 490

Chapter III. — Abbot John's answer why he had left the desert 490

Chapter IV. — Of the excellence which the aforesaid old man showed in the system of the Anchorites 490

Chapter V. — Of the advantages of the desert 49 1

Chapter VI. — Of the conveniences of the Coenobium 491

Chapter VII. — A question on the fruits of the Coenobium and the desert 492

Chapter VIII. — The answer to the question proposed 492

Chapter IX. — Of true and complete perfection 493

Chapter X. — Of those who while still imperfect retire into the desert 493

Chapter XI. — A question how to cure those who have hastily left the congregation of the Coenobium 493

Chapter XII. — The answer telling how a solitary can discover his faults 494

Chapter XIII. — A question how a man can be cured who has entered on solitude without having his faults

eradicated. 494

Chapter XIV. — The answer on their remedies 494

Chapter XV. — A question whether chastity ought to be ascertained just as the other feelings 495

Chapter XVI. — The answer, giving the proofs by which it can be recognized 496

XX. — Conference of Abbot Pinufius; on the End of Penitence and the Marks of Satisfaction.

Chapter I. — Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, and of his hiding-place 496

Chapter II. — Of our coming to him 497

Chapter III. — A question on the end of penitence and the marks of satisfaction 497

Chapter IV. — The answer on the humility shown by our request 498

Chapter V. — Of the method of penitence and the proof of pardon 498

Chapter VI. — A question whether our sins ought to be re'hiembered out of contrition of heart 498

Chapter VII. — The answer showing how far we ought to preserve the recollection of previous actions 499

Chapter VIII. — Of the various fruits of penitence v 499

Chapter IX. — How valuable to the perfect is the forgetfulness of sin 501

Chapter X. — How the recollection of our sin should be avoided 501

Chapter XI. — Of the marks of satisfaction, and the removal of past sins 502

Chapter XII. — Wherein we must do penance for a time only, and wherein it can have no end 502

XXI. — The First Conference of Abbot Theonas; on the Relaxation during the Fifty Days.

Chapter I. — How Theonas came to Abbot John 503

Chapter II. — The exhortation of Abbot John to Theonas, and the others who had come together with him. 503

Chapter III. — Of the offering of tithes and first-fruits 503

Chapter IV. — How Abraham, David, and other saints went beyond the requirements of the law 504

Chapter V. — How those who live under the grace of the Gospel ought to go beyond the requirements of
the law 504

178

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter VI. — How the grace of the Gospel supports the weak so that they can obtain pardon, as it

secures to the perfect the kingdom of God 505

Chapter VII. — How it lies in our own power to choose whether to remain under the grace of the Gospel,

or under the terror of the law 505

Chapter VIII. — How Theonas exhorted his wife that she too should make her renunciation 505

Chapter IX. — How he fled tO' a monastery when his wife would not consent 506

Chapter X. — An explanation that we may not appear to recommend separation from wives 507

Chapter XI. — An inquiry why in Egypt they do not fast during all the fifty days (of Easter), nor bend

their knees in prayer. 507

Chapter XII. — The answer on the nature of things good, bad, and indifferent 507

Chapter XIII. — What kind of good fasting is 508

Chapter XIV. — How fasting is not good in its own nature 508

Chapter XV. — How a thing that is good in its own nature ought not to be done for the sake of some lesser

good • 509

Chapter XVI. — How what is good in its own nature can be distinguished from other things that are good. . 510

Chapter XVII. — Of the reason for fasting and its value 510

Chapter XVIII. — How fasting is not always suitable 510

Chapter XIX. — A question why we break the fast all through Eastertide 511

Chapter XX. — The answer 511

Chapter XXI. — A question whether the relaxation of the fast is not prejudicial to the chastity of the body. 511

Chapter XXII. — The answer on the way to keep control over abstinence 511

Chapter XXIII. — Of the time and measure of refreshment 512

Chapter XXIV. — A question on the different ways of keeping Lent 513

Chapter XXV. — The answer to the effect that the fast of Lent has reference to the tithe of the year 513

Chapter XXVI. — How we ought also to offer our first fruits to the Lord 513

Chapter XXVII. — Why Lent is kept by many with a different number of days 514

Chapter XXVIII. — Why it is called Quadragesima, when the fast is only kept for thirty-six days 514

Chapter XXIX. — How those who are perfect go beyond the fixed rule of Lent 515

Chapter XXX. — Of the origin and beginning of Lent 515

Chapter XXXI. — A question how we ought to understand the Apostle's words: "Sin shall not have

dominion over you " 516

Chapter XXXII. — The answer on the difference between grace and the commands of the law 516

Chapter XXXIII. — Of the fact that the precepts of the Gospel are milder than those of the law 516

Chapter XXXIV. — How a man can be shown to be under grace 517

Chapter XXXV. — A question why some times, when we are fasting more strictly than usual, we are

troubled by carnal desires more keenly than usual 5"^

Chapter XXXVI. — The answer telling that this question should be reserved for a future conference 51S

XXII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Theonas ; on Nocturnal Illusions.^

XXIII. — The Third Conference of Abbot Theonas; on Sinlessness.

Chapter I. — Discourse of Abbot Theonas on the Apostle's words: " For I do not the good that I would ". . 519

Chapter II. — How the Apostle completed many good actions 520

Chapter III. — What is the really good which the Apostle testifies that he could not perform 520

Chapter IV. — How man's goodness and righteousness are not good if compared with the goodness and

righteousness of God 521

Chapter V. — How no one can be continually intent upon that highest good 521

Chapter VI. — How those who think that they are without sin are like purblind people 523

Chapter VII. — How those who maintain that a man can be without sin are charged with a twofold error.. 523

Chapter VIII. — How it is given to but few to understand what sin is 524

Chapter IX. — Of the care with which a monk should preserve the recollection of God ,. 524

Chapter X. — How those who are on the way to perfection are truly humble, and feel that they always

stand in need of God's grace 525

Chapter XI. — Explanation of the phrase: " For I delight in the law of God after the inner man, etc." 525

Chapter XII. — Of this also : " But we know that the law is spiritual, etc." 526

Chapter XIII. — Of this also : " But I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwcUeth no good thing " 526

Chapter XIV. — An objection that the saying, "For I do not the good that I would, etc.," applies to the

persons neither of unbelievers nor of saints 527

Chapter XV. — The answer to the objection raised 527

Chapter XVI. — What is the body of sin 52S

Chapter XVII. — How all the saints have confessed with truth that they were unclean and sinful 529

Chapter XVIII. — That even good and holy men are not without sin 530

Chapter XIX. — How even in the hour of prayer it is almost impossible to avoid sin 530

Chapter XX. — From whom we can learn the destruction of sin, and perfection of goodness 531

Chapter XXI. — That, although we acknowledge that we cannot be without sin, yet still we ought not to

suspend ourselves from the Lord's communion 531

1 Omitted in the translation.

CONTENTS. 179

XXIV. — Conference of Abbot Abraham; on Mortification.

PAGE

Chapter I. — How we laid bare the secrets of our thoughts to Abbot Abraham 531

Chapter II. — How the old man exposed our errors 532

Chapter III. — Of the character of the districts which Anchorites ought to seek 533

Chapter IV. — What sorts of work should be chosen by Solitaries 533

Chapter V. — That anxiety of heart is made worse rather than better by restlessness of liody 533

Chapter VI. — A comparison showing how a monk ought to keep guard over his thoughts 534

Chapter VII. — A question why the neighbourhood of our kinsfolk is considered to interfere with us,

whereas it does not interfere in the case of those living in Egypt 534

Chapter VIII. — The answer that all things are not suitable for all men C34

Chapter IX. — That those negd not fear the neighbourhood of their kinsfolk, who can emulate the mortifica-
tion of Abbot Apollos 53 q

Chapter X. — A question whether it is bad for a monk to have his wants supplied by his kinsfolk 535

Chapter XI. — The answer stating what Saint Antony laid down on this matter 536

Chapter XII. — Of the value of work, and the harm of idleness 536

Chapter XIII. — A story of a barber's payments, introduced for the sake of recognizing the devil's

illusions e-iy

Chapter XIV. — A question how such wrong notions can creep into us 538

Chapter XV. — The answer on the threefold movement of the soul 538

Chapter XVI. — That the rational part of our soul is corrupt 538

Chapter XVII. — How the weaker part of the soul is the first to yield to the devil's temptations C38

Chapter XVIII. — A question whether we should be drawn back to our country by a proper desire for

greater silence r^g

Chapter XIX. — The answer on the devil's illusion, because he promises us the peace of a vaster solitude.. 539

Chapter XX. — How useful is relaxation on the arrival of brethren 540

Chapter XXI. — How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of relaxation 540

Chapter XXII. — A question how we ought to understand what the Gospel says: " My yoke is easy, and

my burden is light " 541

Chapter XXIII. — The answer, with the explanation of the saying 541

Chapter XXIV. — Why the Lord's yoke is felt grievous and His burden heavy 541

Chapter XXV. — Of the good which an attack of temptations brings about 542

Chapter XXVI. — How the promise of an hundredfold in this life is made to those whose renunciation is

perfect 543

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN ON THE INCARNATION OF THE LORD AGAINST

NESTORIUS. PREFACE.

Book I.

Chapter I. — The heresy compared to the hydra of the poets 55 1

Chapter II. — Description of the different heretical monsters which spring from one another 551

Chapter III. — He describes the pestilent error of the Pelagians 552

Chapter IV. — Leporius, together with some others, recants his Pelagianism 553

Chapter V. — By the case of Leporius he establishes the fact that an open sin ought to be expiated by an

open confession, and also teaches from his words what is the right view to be held on the Incarnation.. . . 553

Chapter VI. — The united doctrine of the orthodox is to be received as the Catholic faith 555

Book II.

Chapter I. — How the errors of later heretics have been condemned and refuted in the persons of their

authors and originators 555

Chapter II. — Proof that the Virgin Mother of God was not only Christotocos but also Theotocos, and that

Christ is truly God 556

Chapter III. — He follows up the same argument with passages from the Old Testament 557

Chapter IV. — He produces testimonies to the same doctrine from the Apostle Paul 559

Chapter V. — From the gifts of Divine grace which we receive through Christ he infers that He is truly God. 560
Chapter VI. — That the power of bestowing Divine grace did not come to Christ in the course of time, but

was innate in Him from His very birth 561

Chapter VII. — How in Christ Divinity, Majesty, Might and Power have existed in perfection from eternity,

and will continue 562

i8o CONTENTS.

Book III.

PAGE

Chapter I. — That Christ, who is God and man in unity of person, sprang from Israel and the Virgin Mary

according to the fiesh 562

Chapter II. —The title of God is given in one sense to Christ, in another to men 563

Chapter III. — He explains the Apostle's saying, " From henceforth we know no man according to the

flesh," etc 563

Chapter IV. — From the Epistle to the Galatians he brings forward a passage to show that the weakness of

the flesh in Christ was absorbed by His Divinity 564

Chapter V. — As it is blasphemy to pare away the Divinity of Christ, so also is it blasphemous to deny that

He is true man 564

Chapter VI. — He shows from the appearance of Christ vouchsafed to the Appstle when persecuting the

Chyrch, the existence of both natures in Him 565

Chapter VII. — He shows once more by other passages of the Apostle that Christ is God 566

Chapter VIII. — When confessing the Divinity of Christ we ought not to pass over in silence the Confession

of the Cross 567

Chapter IX. — How the Apostle's preaching was rejected by Jews and Gentiles because it' confessed that

the crucified Christ was God 567

Chapter X. — How the Apostle maintains that Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God 568

Chapter XI. — He supports the same doctrine by proofs from the Gospel 569

Chapter XII. — He proves from the renowned confession of the blessed Peter that Christ is God 569

Chapter XIII. — The confession of the blessed Peter receives a testimony to its truth from Christ Himself.. 570

Chapter XIV. — How the confession of the blessed Peter is the faith of the whole Church 570

Chapter Xy. — St. Thomas also confessed the same faith as Peter after the Lord's resurrection 571

Chapter XVI. — He brings forward the witness of God the Father to the Divinity of the Son 572

Book IV.

Chapter I. — That Christ was before the Incarnation God from everlasting 573

Chapter II. — He infers from what he has said that the Virgin Mary gave birth to a son who had pre-existed

and was greater than she herself was 574

Chapter III. — He proves from the Epistle to the Romans the eternal Divinity of Christ 574

Chapter IV. — He Isrings forward other testimonies to the same view 575

Chapter V. — How in virtue of the hypostatic union of the two natures in Christ the Word is rightly termed

the Saviour or incarnate man, and the Son of God 575

Chapter VI. — That there is in Christ but one hypostasis 576

Chapter VII. — He returns to the former subject in order to show against the Nestorians that those things
are said of the man which belong to the Divine nature, as it were, of a person of Divine nature, and
conversely that those things are said of God which belong to the human nature, as it were, of a person

of human nature, because there is in Christ but one and a single personal self 577

Chapter VIII. — How this interchange of titles does not interfere with His Divine power 577

Chapter IX. — He corroborates this statement by the authority of the old prophets 578

Chapter X. — He proves Christ's Divinity from the blasphemy of Judaizing Jews, as well as from the con-
fession of converts to the faith of Christ 579

Chapter XI. — He returns to the prophecy of Isaiah 579

Chapter XII. — How the title of Saviour is given to Christ in one sense, and to men in another 580

Chapter XIII. — He explains who are those in whose person the prophet Isaiah says: "Thou art our God,

and we knew thee not " 580

Book V.

Chapter I. — He vehemently inveighs against the error of the Pelagians who declared that Christ was a

mere man 5^°

Chapter II. — That the doctrine of Nestorius is closely connected with the error of the Pelagians 581

Chapter III. — How this participation in Divinity which the Pelagians and Nestorius attribute to Christ is

common to all holy men 5^2

Chapter IV. — What the difference is between Christ and the saints 582

Chapter V. — That before His birth in time Christ was always called God by the prophets 583

Chapter VI. — He illustrates the same doctrine by passages from the New Testament 584

Chapter VII. — He shows again from the union in Christ of two natures in one person that what belongs

to the Divine nature may rightly be ascribed to man, and what belongs to the human nature to God 584

Chapter VIII. — He confirms the judgment of the Apostle by the authority of the Lord 586

Chapter IX. — Since those marvellous works which from the days of Moses were shown to the children of 586

Israel are attributed to Christ, it follows that He must have existed long before His birth in time

Chapter X. — He explains what it means to confess, and what it means to dissolve Jesus 587

Chapter XL — The mystery of the Lord's Incarnation clearly implies the Divinity of Christ 588

Chapter XII. — He explains more fully what the mystery is, which is signified under the name of man and

wife 589

CONTENTS. i8i

PAGE

Chapter XIII. — Of the longing with which the old patriarchs desired to see the revelation of that

mystery • 589

Chaptkr XIV. — He refutes the wicked and blasphemous notion of the heretics who said that God dwelt

and spoke in Christ as in an instrument or a statue 590

Chapter XV. — What the prayers of the saints for the coming of Messiah contained ; and what was the

nature of that longing of theirs 590

Book VI.

Chapter I. — From the miracle of the feeding of the multitude from the five barley loaves and two fishes he

shows the majesty of Divine power 591

Chapter II. — The author adapts the mystery of the number seven (made up of \\\>tfive loaves and the two

fishes) to his own work cgi

Chapter III. — He refutes his opponent by the testimony of the Council of Antioch 592

Chapter IV. — How the Creed has authority divine as well as human cc)^

Chapter V. — He proceeds against his opponent with the choicest arguments, and shows that we ought to

hold fast to the religion which we have received from our fathers ^9_j

Chapter VI. — Once more he challenges him to the profession of the Creed of Antioch 594

Chapter VII. — He continues the same line of argument drawn from the Creed of Antioch 595

Chapter VIII. — How it can be said that Christ came and was born of a Virgin 595

Chapter IX. — Again he convicts his opponent of deadly heresy by his own confession 596

Chapter X. — He inveighs against him because though he has forsaken the Catholic religion, he nevertheless

presumes to teach in the Church, to sacrifice, and to give decisions 596

Chapter XI. — He removes the silent objection of heretics who want to recant the profession of their faith

made in childhood 597

Chapter XII. — Christ crucified is an offence and foolishness to those who declare that He was a mere man • • 598
Ch.-^PTER XIII. — He replies to the objection in which they say that the child born ought to be of one

substance with the mother 598

Chapter XIV. — He compares this erroneous view with the teaching of the Pelagians 598

Chapter XV. — He shows that those who patronize this false teaching acknowledge two Christs 599

Chapter XVI. — He shows further that this teaching is destructive of the confession of the Trinity. 599

Chapter XVII. — Those who are under an error in one point of the Catholic religion lose the whole faith,

and all the value of the faith 600

Chapter XVIII. — He directs his discourse upon his antagonist with whom he is disputing, and begs him to

return to his senses. The sacrament of reconciliation is necessary for the lapsed for their salvation 600

Chapter XIX. — That the birth of Christ in time diminished nothing of the glory and power of His Deity- • • 600
Chapter XX. — He shows from what has been said that we do not mean that God was mortal or of flesh

before the worlds, although Christ, who is God from eternity and was made man in time, is but one

person. 601

Chapter XXI. — The authority of Holy Scripture teaches that Christ existed from all eternity 601

Chapter XXII. — The hypostatic union enables us to ascribe to God what belongs to the flesh in Christ 602

Chapter XXIII. — That the figure synecdoche, in which the part stands for the whole, is very familiar to the

Holy Scripture 602

Book VII.

Chapter I. — As he is going to reply to the slanders of his opponents, he implores the aid of Divine Grace to

teach a prayer to be used by those who undertake to dispute with heretics 603

Chapter II. — He meets the objection taken from these words: No one gave birth to one who had existed

before her 604

Chapter HI. — He replies to the cavil that the one who is born must be of one substance with the one who

bears 605

Chapter IV. — How God has shown His omnipotence in His birth in time as well as in everything else 606

Chapter V. — He shows by proofs drawn from nature itself, that the law which his opponents lay down,

viz., that the one born ought to be of one substance with the one who bears, fails to hold good in

many cases 606

Chapter VI. — He refutes another argument of Nestorius, in which he tried to make out that Christ was like

Adam in every point 607

Chapter VII. — Heretics usually cover their doctrines with a cloak of Holy Scripture 608

Chapter VIII. — The heretics attribute to Christ only the shadow of Divinity, and so assert that He is to be

worshipped together with God but not as God 608

Chapter IX. — How those are wrong who say that the birth of Christ was a secret, since it was clearly

shown even to the patriarch Jacob 609

Chapter X. — He collects more witnesses of the same fact 610

Chapter XI. — How the devil was forced by many reasons to the view that Christ was God 610

Chapter XII. — He compares this notion and reasonable suspicion of the devil with the obstinate and

inflexible idea of his opponents, and shows that this last is worse and more blasphemous than the

former 610

Chapter XIII. — How the devil always retained this notion of Christ's Divinity (because of His secret

working which he experienced) even up to His cross and death 610

i82 CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chapter XIV. — He shows how heretics pervert Holy Scripture, by replying to the argument drawn from

the Apostle's words " without father, without mother, etc." — Heb. viii. 6ii

Chapter XV. — How Christ could be said by the Apostle to be without genealogy 612

Chapter XVI. — He shows that like the devil when tempting Christ, the heretics garble and pervert Holy

Scripture 612

Chapter XVII. — That the glory and honour of Christ is not to be ascribed to the Holy Ghost in such a way

as to deny that it proceeds from Christ Himself, as if all that excellency, which was in Him, was

another's and proceeded from another source 613

Chapter XVIII. — How we are to understand the Apostle's words " He appeared in the flesh, was justified

in the spirit, etc." 614

Chapter XIX. — That it was not only the Spirit, but Christ Himself also, who made Him to be feared 614

Chapter XX. — He tries by stronger and weightier arguments to destroy that notion 615

Chapter XXI. — That it must be ascribed equally to Christ and the Holy Ghost that His flesh and

humanity became the temple of God 615

Chapter XXII. — That the raising up of Christ into heaven is not to be ascribed to the Spirit alone. 616

Chapter XXIII. — He continues the same argument to show that Christ had no need of another's glory as

He had glory of His own 616

Chapter XXIV, — He supports this doctrine by the authority of the blessed Hilary 617

Chapter XXV. — He shows that Ambrose agrees with S. Hilary 617

Chapter XXVI. — He adds to the foregoing the testimony of S. Jerome 618

Chapter XXVII. — To the foregoing he adds Rufinus and the blessed Augustine 618

Chapter XXVIII. — As he is going to produce the testimony of Greek or Eastern Bishops, he brings

forward in the first place S. Gregory Nazianzen 619

Chapter XXIX. — In the next place he puts the authority of S. Athanasius 619

Chapter XXX. — He adds also S. John Chrysostom. 619

Chapter XXXI. — He bemoans the unhappy lot of Constantinople owing to the misfortune which has

overtaken it from that heretic; and at the same time he urges the citizens to stand fast in the ancient

Catholic and ancestral faith 620

PROLEGOMENA.

CHAPTER I.

The Life o£ Cassian.

" Cassianus natione Scytha " is the description given by Gennadius ^ of the writer whose
works are now for the first time translated into English. In spite, however, of the precision of
this statement, considerable doubt hangs over Cassian's nationality, and it is hard to believe
that he was in reality a Scythian. Not only is his language and style free from all trace of
barbarism, but as a boy he certainly received a liberal education; for in his Conferences he
laments that the exertions of his tutor and his own attention to continual study had so weak-
ened him that his mind was so filled with songs of the poets that even at the hour of
prayer it was thinking of those trifling fables and stories of battles with which it had from
earliest infancy been stored; "and," he adds, "when singing Psalms or asking forgiveness
of sins, some wanton recollection of the poems intrudes itself or the image of heroes fighting
presents itself before the eyes; and an imagination of such phantoms is always haunting
me."^ Further evidence of the character of his education is also supplied by the fact
that in his work on the Incarnation against Nestorius he manifests an acquaintance not only
with the works of earlier Christian Fathers, but also with those of such writers as Cicero
and Persius.^

These considerations are sufficient to make us hesitate before accepting the statement of
Gennadius in what would at first sight be its natural meaning; although from the fact of his
connection with Marseilles, where so much of Cassian's life was* spent, as well as the early
date at which he wrote (a.d. 495), it is dangerous to reject his authority altogether. It
is, however, possible that the term "Scytha" is not really intended to denote a Scythian,
but to refer to the desert of Scete, or Scitis,^ in Egypt, where Cassian passed many years of
his life, and with which his fame was closely associated; and, therefore, without going to the
length of rejecting the authority of Gennadius altogether, we are free to look for some other
country as the birthplace of our author. But little light is thrown on this subject by the
statements of other writers. Photius^ (a.d. 800) calls him 'iVw^o?, which need mean no
more than born within the Roman Empire; while Honorius of Autun (a.d. 1130) speaks
of him as Afer. The last-mentioned writer is, however, of too late a date to be of any author-
ity; and it is just possible that the term "Afer," like the "Scytha" of Gennadius, may be
owing to his lengthy residence in Egypt. ^ In the writings of Cassian himself there is nothing
to enable us to identify the country of his birth with certainty; but, in describing the
situation of his ancestral home, he speaks of the delightful pleasantness of the neighbour-
hood, and the recesses of the woods, which would not only delight the heart of a monk
but would also furnish him with a plentiful supply of food;'^ while in a later passage he
says that in his own country it was impossible to find any one who had adopted the monastic
life.* From these notices, compared with a passage in the Preface to the Institutes, where

' Gennadius Catalogus, c. Ixii.

^ Conference XIV. xii.

' On the Incarnation, VI. ix., x,

* 2)cia8ts, and SiciaSiit^ (v. 1. ^KiOiaKr/) x'^P"- ^re the forms of the name given by Ptolemy. The Greek Fathers speak of the dis-
trict as 2ic>)Ti5, while in Latin writers the name appears as Scythia, or Scythis; and, though the printed texts of Cassian give the form as
Scitium, heremus Scitii, and heremus Scitiotica, yet we learn from Petschenig that in the MSS. of his works it is not seldom written as
Scythium. It should be added that in the text of Gennadius the reading is not absolutely free from doubt, as there is some slight authority
for reading " natus Serta."

^ Bibliotheca, cod. cxcvii.

« Dr. Gregory Smith (Dictionary of Christian Biography, art. Cassian) thinks that 'Cassianus' possibly points to Casius, a small
town in Syria; but, apart from the fact that the naine was not uncommon in the West as well as in the East, the description of his home
as being in a country where there were no monasteries is quite fatal to this idea.

' Conference XXIV. i.

' c. xviii.

'83

1 84

PROLEGOMENA.

the diocese of Apta Julia in Gallia Narbonensis is spoken of as still without monasteries,
some ground is given for th^ conjecture that Cassian was really a native of Gaul, whither
he returned in mature age after his wanderings were ended, and where most of his friends of
whom we have any knowledge were settled. On the whole, then, it appears to the present
writer to be the most probable view that Cassian was of Western origin, and, perhaps, a
native of Provence, although it must be freely acknowledged that it is impossible to speak
with certainty on this subject.-^

Once more: not only is there this doubt about his nationality, but questions have also
been raised concerning his original name. Gennadius and Cassiodorus ^ speak of him
simply as Cassianus. In his own writings he represents himself as addressed by the monks
in Egypt more than once by the name of John.^ Prosper of Aquitaine (his contemporary
and antagonist) combines both names, and speaks of him as "Joannes cognomento Cas-
sianus."* In the titles of the majority of the MSS. of his own writing he is merely
''Cassianus," though in one case the work is entitled "Beatissimi Joannis qui et Cassiani."^
Are we, then, with the writer of the last-mentioned MS., to suppose that the names John and
Cassian are alternatives; or, with Prosper, that John was his nomen and Cassianus his
cognomen, or, more strictly, agnomen? The former view is, perhaps, the more probable, as
he may well have taken the name of John at his baptism or at his admission to the mon-
astic life. The theory which has sometimes been advocated — that he received it at his
ordination by S. John Chrysostom — falls to the ground when we notice that he represents him-
self as called John during his residence in Egypt, several years before his ordination and
intercourse with S. Chrysostom.

To pass now from the question of his name and nationality to the narrative of Cassian 's
life. Various considerations point to the date of his birth as about the year 360. Of his
family we know nothing, except that in one passage of his writings he incidentally makes
mention of a sister;*^ while the language which he uses of his parents would imply that they
were well-to-do and pious." As we have already seen, he received a liberal education
as a boy, but while still young forsook the world, and was received, together with his
friend Germanus, into a monastery at Bethlehem,^ where he spent several years and became
thoroughly familiar with the customs and traditions of the monasteries of Syria. Eager,
however, to make further progress in the perfect life, the two friends finally determined to
visit Egypt,^ where, as it was the country in which the monastic life originated, the most
famous monasteries existed, and the most illustrious Anchorites were to be found. Per-
mission to undertake the journey was sought and obtained from their superiors, a pledge
being required of a speedy return when the object of their visit was gained.-"^ Sailing from
some port of Syria, perhaps Joppa, the friends arrived at Thennesus, a town at the mouth of
the Tanitic branch of the Nile, near Lake Menzaleh. Here they fell in with a celebrated
Anchorite named Archebius, bishop of the neighbouring town of Panephysis, who had come
to Thennesus on business connected with the election of a bishop. He, on hearing the object
of their visit to Egypt, at once offered them an introduction to some celebrated Anchorites
in his own neighbourhood. The offer was gladly accepted, and under his guidance they
made their way through a dreary district of salt marshes, many of the villages being in ruins
and deserted by their inhabitants owing to the floods which had inundated the country and
turned the rising grounds into islands, "and thus afforded the desired solitudes to the holy An-
chorites, among whom three old men — Chaeremon, Nesteros, and Joseph — were famed as the
Anchorites of the longest standing."" Archebius brought them first to Chxremon, who had
already passed his hundredth year, and was so far bent with age and constant prayer that he
could no longer walk upright, but crawled upon his hands and knees. The saint's hesita-
tion at allowing himself to be thus interviewed by strangers was soon overcome, and he finally

1 No difficulty need be felt on the score of his thorough knowledge of Greek, for this could easily be accounted for by his education at
Bethlehem, and prolonged residence in the East.

''■ De Div. I.ect. Pref., and c. xxix.

3 Conference XIV. ix.; Institute V. xxxv.

* Chronicle.

^ Parisinus. Noitv. acquis, Lat. 260, of the eighth or ninth century.

6 Institutes XI. xviii.

» Conference XXIV. i.

8 See the Institutes III. iv. ; IV. xix.-xxi., xxxi. Conferences I. i. ; XI. i. v. ; XIX. i. ; XX. i. The date is too early for this to have
been .S. Jerome's famous monastery, as that father only settled at Bethlehem towards the close of 3S6. by which time Cassian himself
must have been already in Kgypt ; nor does he anywhere in his writings make any allusion to Jerome as his teacher, although he mentions
him with great respect in his work on the Incarnation, Book VII. c. xxvi.

" Conference XI. i. A good account of Cassian's visits to Egypt is given in Fleury's Ecclesiastical History, Book XX., c. iii.-vii.

>o Conference XVII. ii. _

" Conference XI. i.-iii., and compare VII. xxvi. for another description of the same district.

PROLEGOMENA. 185

gratified their curiosity by delivering three discourses, on the subjects of Perfection, Chas-
tity, and the Protection of God.^ From the cell of Cha:remon Cassian and his companion
proceeded to that of Abbot Nesteros, who honoured them with two discourses, on Spiritual
Knowledge, and Divine Gifts;- and from him they repaired to Joseph, who belonged to a
noble family, and before his renunciation of the world had been "primarius" of his native
city, Thmuis. He was naturally better educated than the others, and was able to converse with
them in Greek instead of being obliged to have recourse to the help of an interpreter, as had
been the case with Cha^remon and Nesteros.^ His first question referred to the relationship
between Cassian and Germanus: were they brothers? And their reply — that the brotherhood
was spiritual and not carnal — furnished the old man with a text for his first discourse, which
was on Friendship, and which was followed up on the next day by one on the Obligation of
Promises,* called forth by the perplexity in which the travellers found themselves owing to
their promise to return to Bethlehem, — a promise which they were loth to break, and which
yet they could not fulfil without losing a grand opportunity of making progress in the spirit-
ual life. In their difiiculty they consulted Joseph; and, fortified by his authority and advice,
they determined to break the letter of their promise and make a longer stay in Egypt, where
they accordingly remained for seven years in spite of their brethren at Bethlehem, whose
displeasure at their conduct, Cassian tells us, was not removed by their frequent letters
home.^

It was while Cassian and his fellow-traveller were still in the neighbourhood of Panephysis
that these energetic precursors of the modern " interviewers " paid a visit to Abbot Pinufius,
a priest who presided over a large monastery. This man was an old friend of theirs, whose
acquaintance they had previously made at Bethlehem, whither (after an ineffectual attempt
to conceal himself in a monastery in the island of Tabenna) he had fled in order to escape
the responsibilities of his office. There he had been received as a novice, and had been
assigned by the abbot as an inmate of Cassian's cell, until he was recognized by a visitor
from Egypt and brought back in triumph to his own monastery.*^ To him, therefore, Cassian
and Germanus made their way; and by him they were warmly welcomed; the old man repay-
ing their former hospitality by giving them quarters in his own cell. While staying in this
monastery they were so fortunate as to be present at the admission of a novice, and heard the
charge which Pinufius made to the new-comer on the occasion ; " and afterwards the abbot
favoured them with a discourse "on the end of penitence and the marks of satisfaction."*
After this, resisting his pressing invitation to remain with him in the monastery, they pro-
ceeded once more on their travels, and, crossing the river, came to Diolcos, a town
hard by the Sebennytic mouth of the Nile. Here was a barren tract of land between the
river and the sea, rendered unfit for cultivation by the saltness of the soil and the dryness of
the sand. It was, therefore, eagerly seized upon by the monks, who congregated here in great
numbers in spite of the absence of water; the river from which it had to be fetched being
some three miles distant.^ In this neighbourhood they made the acquaintance of Abbot
Piamun, a most celebrated xA.nchorite, who explained to them with great care the character-
istics of the three kinds of monks; viz., the Coenobites, the Anchorites, and the Sarabaites.^°
This discourse had the effect of exciting their desire more keenly than ever for the Anchor-
ites' life in preference to that of the Coenobite, — a desire which was afterwards confirmed by
what they saw and heard in the desert of Scete. They next visited a large monastery in the
same neighbourhood, which was governed by the Abbot Paul, and which ordinarily accom-
modated two hundred monks, but was at that moment filled with a much larger number, who
had come from the surrounding monasteries to celebrate the "depositio" of the late abbot. ^^
Here they met a certain Abbot John, whose humility had led him to give up the life of an
Anchorite for that of a Coenobite, in order that he might have the opportunity of practising
the virtues of obedience and subjection, which seemed out of the reach of the solitary. He
was accordingly well qualified to speak of the subject which he selected for his discourse;
viz., the aims of the Anchorite r.nd Coenobite life.^^ Another well-known abbot, whose
acquaintance they now made, was Theonas, who, when quite a young man, had been married
by his parents, and later on, on failing to obtain the consent of his wife to a separation, in

^ Conferences XT., XII., XIII. ' Institute V. xxxii.-xlii.

2 Conferences XIV., XV. 8 Conference XX.

^ Conference XVI. i. 9 Institute V. ixxvi.

* Conferences XVI., XVII. lo Conference XVIII. On the Sarabaites, see the note on c. vii.

* See Conference XVII. i.-v. and xjcx. " Conference XIX. i.
" Conference XX. i., ii. The story is also told in the Institutes, ^ Conference XIX. i.

IV. XXX.

1 86 PROLEGOMENA.

order that they might devote themselves to the monastic life, had deserted her and fled away
into a monastery, where after a time he had been promoted to the office of almoner. From
him they heard a discourse on the relaxation of the fast during Easter-tide and Pentecost.^
and, later on, one concerning Nocturnal Illusions,^ and another on Sinlessness.^ By these
various discourses the two friends were rendered more desirous than ever of adopting the
Anchorite life, and less inclined than before to return to the subjection of the monastery at
Bethlehem. A far better course seemed to them to return to their own home, probably (as
we have seen) in Gaul, where they would be free to practice what austerities they pleased
without let or hindrance.^ In their perplexity they consulted Abbot Abraham, who threw
cold water on their plan in a discourse on Mortification.^ which was entirely successful in
persuading them to relinquish their half-formed intention. They, therefore, remained in
Egypt for some years longer; and it is to the time of their stay in the neighbourhood of
Diolcos that their acquaintance with Abbot Archebius must be assigned. This man, so Cas-
sian tells us,® having discovered their desire to make some stay in the place, offered them
the use of his cell, pretending that he was about to go off on a journey. They gladly accepted
his offer. He went away for a few days, collected materials, and then returned and proceeded
to build a new cell for himself. Shortly afterwards some more brethren came. He at once
gave up to them his newly built cell, and once more set to work to build another for himself.
It is difficult to determine whether a stay in the desert of Scete was comprised in
the seven years which the two friends now spent in Egypt, or whether they visited it for the
first time during their second tour, after their return from Bethlehem. On the one hand, the
language used in Conference XVIII. cc. i. and xvi. would almost suggest that they made
their way into this remote district during their first sojourn in Egypt; and, on the other hand,
that emplo3'ed in Conference I. c. i. might imply a distinct journey to Egypt for the sake
of visiting this region: and in XVII. xxx. Cassian distinctly asserts that they did visit Scete
after their return to Bethlehem in fulfilment of their promise. On the whole, it appears the
more natural view to suppose that their first tour was not extended beyond the Delta, more
distant expeditions being reserved for a future occasion. Adopting, then, this view, we follow
the travellers, after a seven years' absence, back to the monastery at Bethlehem, where they
managed to pacify the irate brethren, and, strange to say, obtained leave to return to Egypt
a second time.'' On this occasion they penetrated farther into the country than they had
previously done. The region which they now visited was the desert of Scete, or Scitis; that
is, the southern part of the famous Nitrian A^'alley, a name which is well known to all
students from the rich treasure of Syrian MSS. brought home from thence by the Hon.
Robert Curzon and Archdeacon Tattam now more than forty years ago. The district lies
"to the northwest of Cairo, three days' journey in the Libyan desert," ^ and gains its name
of Nitria from the salt lakes which still furnish abundance of nitre, which has been worked
for fully two thousand years. The valley has some claims to be considered the original
home of monasticism. Some have thought that a colony of Therapeutne was settled here
in the earliest days; and hither S. Frontonius is said to have retired with seventy brethren, to
lead the life of ascetics, about the middle of the second century.^ Less doubtful is the fact
that S. Ammon, a contemporary and friend .of S. Antony, organized the monastic system here
in the fourth century, and "filled the same place in lower Egypt as Antony in the The-
baid."^° Towards the close of the fourth century the valley was crowded with cells and
monasteries. Rufinus, who visited it about 372, mentions fifty monasteries;" and the
same number is given by Sozomen, who says that "some were inhabited by monks who live
together in society, others by monks who have adopted a solitary mode of existence." ^'- About
twenty years later Palladius passed a considerable time here, and reckons the total number
of monks and ascetics at five thousand. ^^ They were also visited by S. Jerome about
the same time, and various details of the life of the monks are given by him in his Epistles."
Some few monks still linger on to the present day to keep up the traditions of nearly eighteen
centuries. They were visited (among others) by the Hon. Robert Curzon in 1833; and an
interesting account of them is given by him in his volume on "the monasteries of the
Levant: " ^° but the latest and best account of them is that given by Mr. A. J. Butler, who

» Conference XXI. ' Conference XXII. ' Conference XXIII.

* Conference XXIV. i. " Conference XXIV. " Institute V. xxxvi. sg.
' Conference XVII. xxx. ' Butler's Cofitic Churches. Vol I., p. 287.

* Rosweyd, Vitae Patrum : and the Bollnndist Ada Sanctorum, 14 April, Vol. 11., 201-3.

'" Dictionary 0/ Christian Biography, art. Ammon ; cf. Rufinus, Hist. : Monach, xxx.; and Palladius, Hist. : Lausiaca, viii.
•* Hist., Monach, c. xxi. '- Sozomen, H. E. VI. xxxi. " Hist., Laus., c. vii.

** Epp. : ad Eustochium, ad Rustic. "■ Part I., cc. vii., viii.

PROLEGOMENA. i8-

succeeded in gaining permission to visit them in 1S83, ^^^ has described his journey in
his excellent work on "the ancient Coptic Cliurches of Egypt." ^ Four monasteries alone
remain, known as Dair Abu Makar, Dair Anba Bishoi, Dair es SQriani, and Dair al
Baramus; but the ruins of many others may still be traced in the desert tracts on the west
side of the Natron lakes, and the valley of the waterless river which at some very remote
period is supposed to have formed the bed of one of the branches of the Nile.'* ^ The mon-
asteries are all built on the same general plan, so that, as Mr. Butler tells us, a description
of one will more or less accurately describe the others. Dair Abu Makar (the monastery
of S. Macarius), the first which he visited, which lies strictly within the desert of Scete,
is spoken of as " a veritable fortress, standing about one hundred and fifty yards square, with
blind, lofty walls rising sheer out of the sand." " Each monastery has also, either detached or
not, a large keep, or tower, standing four-square, and approached only by a draw-bridge.
The tower contains the library, store-rooms for the vestments and sacred vessels, cellars
for oil and corn, and many strange holes and hiding-places of the monks in the last resort,
if their citadel should be taken by the enemy. Within the monastery in enclosed one
principal and one or two smaller court-yards, around which stand the cells of the monks,
domestic buildings, such as the mill-room, the oven, the refectory, and the like, and the
churches."'^ The outward aspect can have changed but little since the fourth century.
The buildings are perhaps stronger and more adapted to resist hostile attacks, but the
general plan is probably identical with that adopted in the earliest monasteries erected in
this remote region. Such, then, was the district to which Cassian and Germanus now made
their way. Here they first sought and obtained an interview with Abbot Moses, who had
formerly dwelt in the Thebaid near S. Antony, and was now living at a spot in the desert
of Scete known as Calamus,* and was famous not only for practical goodness but also for
contemplative excellence. After much persuasion he yielded to their entreaties and dis-
coursed to them "on the goal or aim of a monk,"^ and, on the following day, on Discre-
tion.^ They next visited Abbot Paphnutius, or "the Buffalo," as he was named, from his
love of solitude. He was an aged priest who had lived for years the life of an Anchorite,
only leaving his cell for the purpose of going to the church, which was five miles off, on
Saturday and Sunday, and returning with a large bucket of water on his shoulders to last him
for the week. From him they heard of the " three kinds of renunciation " necessary for a
monk." They also visited his disciple Daniel, who had been ordained priest through the
instrumentality of Paphnutius, but was so humble that he would never perform priestly
functions in the presence of his master. The subject of his discourse in answer to the inquiry
of the two friends was "the lust of the flesh and the spirit." ^ The next ascetic interviewed
was Serapion, who spoke of the "eight principal faults" to which a monk was exposed;
viz., gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection, "accidie," vain glory, and pride. ^
After this they proceeded on a journey of some eighty miles to Cellse, a place that lay
between the desert of Scete ^properly so called) and the Nitrian Valley, in order to consult
Abbot Theodore on a difficulty which the recent massacre of a number of monks in Palestine
by the Saracens had brought forcibly before them; viz., why was it that men of such illustrious
merits and so great virtues should be slain by robbers, and why should God permit so great
a crime to be committed? The difficulty was solved by Abbot Theodore in a discourse on
"the death of the saints; " •"' and thus the journey was not taken in vain. Two other cele-
brated monks were also visited by the friends, whose discourses are recorded by Cassian :
viz., Abbot Serenus, who spoke of "Inconstancy of mind, and Spiritual wickedness,"" as
well as of the nature of evil spirits, in a Conference on " Principalities ; " ^^ and Abbot Isaac,
who delivered two discourses on the subject of Prayer. ^^ A few days after the first of these
was delivered there arrived in the desert the "festal letters" of Theophilus, Bishop of
Alexandria, in which he denounced the heresy of the Anthropomorphites. This caused a
great commotion among the monks of Scete ; and Abbot Paphnutius, who presided over the
monastery where Cassian was staying, was the only one who would allow the letters to be
publicly read in the congregation. Finally, however, owing to the conciliatory firmness of
Paphnutius, the great body of the monks was won over to a sounder and less materialistic
view of the nature of the Godhead than had hitherto been prevalent among them. "

' TAe Ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt, by Alfred J. Butler. 2 vols. (Oxford, 18S4).

2 Curzon, p. 79. 7 Conference III. '- Conference VI 1 1.

8 Butler, Vol. I., pp. 295, 6, 7. 8 Conference IV. " Conference IX. x.

* Conference II. ii. ; III. v. * Conference V. " See Conference X. cc. i-iii.

^ Conference I. 10 Conference VI.

^ Conference II. u Conference VII.

i88 PROLEGOMENA.

These are all the details that can be gathered from Cassian's writings of his stay in
Scete, further than which he does not appear to have penetrated, as, when he speaks of the
Thebaid and the monasteries there, it is only from hearsay and not from personal knowledge,
although his original intention had certainly been to visit this district among others.-^

In considering the date of Cassian's visit to Egypt there are various indications to guide
us. In Conference XVIII. c. xiv., S. Athanasius is spoken of by Abbot Piamun as "of
blessed memory;" and the language used of the Emperor Valens in c. vii. is such as to
imply that he was already dead. The former died in 373, and the latter in 378. Again, in
Conference XXIV. c. xxvi. Abbot Abraham is made to speak of John of Lycopolis as so
famous that he was consulted by the very lords of creation, who sought his advice, and
entrusted to his prayers and merits the crown of their empire and the fortunes of war. These
expressions evidently allude to John's announcement to Theodosius of his victory over
Maxentius in 388, and his success against Eugenius in 395.^ If they stood alone, we could
scarcely rely on these indications of date with any great confidence because the Conferences
were not written till many years later, and it is impossible to determine with certainty how
far they really represent the discourses actually spoken by the Egyptian Fathers, or how
far they are the ideal compositions of Cassian himself. But, as we have seen, it is certain
that Cassian was actually in Egypt at the time of the Anthropomorphite controversy raised
by the letters of Theophilus in 399; and, as the other notices of events previously mentioned
coincide very fairly with this, we cannot be far wrong in placing the two visits to Egypt
between 380 and 400. About the last-named date Cassian must have finally left the country;
and we next hear of him in Constantinople, where he was ordained deacon by S. Chrysostom,^
and, together with his friend Germanus, put in charge of the treasury, the only part of the
Cathedral which escaped the flames in the terrible conflagration of 404. Thus Cassian was
a witness of all the troublous scenes which attended the persecution of S. Chrysostom, whose
side he warmly espoused in the controversy which rent the East asunder. And when the
Saint was violently deposed and removed from Constantinople, the two friends — Germanus,
who was by this time raised to the priesthood, and Cassian, who was still in deacon's orders
— were chosen as the bearers of a letter to Pope Innocent I. from the clergy who adhered to
Chrysostom, detailing the scandalous scenes that had taken place, and the trials to which
they had been exposed.* Of the length of Cassian's stay in Rome we have no information,
but it is likely that it was of some considerable duration; and it may have been at this time
that he was ordained priest by Innocent. Possibly, also, it was now that he made the acquaint-
ance of one who was then quite young, but was destined afterwards to become famous as
Pope Leo the Great; for some years afterwards (a.d. 430) it was at the request of Leo, then
Archdeacon of Rome, that Cassian wrote his work on the Incarnation against Nestorius.
Leaving Rome, Cassian is next found in Gaul,^ which (if we are right in the supposition that
it was his birthplace) he must have quitted when scarcely more than a child. \\'hen he left
it monasticism was a thing almost if not quite vmknown there, but during his absence in
the East a few monasteries had been founded in the district of the Loire by S. Martin and
S. Hilary of Poictiers. Liguge' was founded shortly after 360, and Marmoutier rather later,
after 371 ; and about the time of his return similar institutions were beginning to spring up
in Provence. In 410 S. Honoratus founded the monastery which will ever be associated
with his name, in the island of Le'rins, and, in the eloquent words of the historian of the
monks of the West, "opened the arms of his love to the sons of all countries who desired to
love Christ. A multitude of disciples of all nations joined him. The West could no longer
envy the East; and shortly that retreat, destined in the intentions of its founder to renew
upon the coasts of Provence the austerities of the Thebaid, became a celebrated school of
theology and Christian philosophy, a citadel inaccessible to the waves of barbarian inva-
sion, an asylum for literature and science, which had fled from Italy invaded by the Goths; —
in short, a nursery of bishops and saints, who were destined to spread over the whole of Gaul
the knowledge of the gospel and the glory of Le'rins.""

It must have been about the same time — a little earlier or a little later — that Cassian
settled at Marseilles; and there, "in the midst of those great forests which had supplied the

* See Conference XI. i. ^ Compare the Institutes, IV. xxiii. ^ On the Incarnation, VII. xxxi.

* Palladius Dial. iii. ; Sozomen, H. E. VIII. xxvi.

■" It is highly precarious to infer from the language used in the Institutes, III. that Cassian visited Mesopotamia before settling in Gaul.
His departure from Rome may perhaps have been occasioned by the Gothic invasion of Italy and Alaric's sieges of Rome, 408-410.

" RIontalembert's Monks of the West, Vol. I. p. 464 (Eng. Translation). The names of Hilary of Aries, Vincent of L6rins, Salvian,
Eucherius of Lyons, Lupus of Troyes, and Cjesarius of Aries, are alone sufficient to render the monastery of L^rins illustrious in the annals
of the Church of ,Gaul.

PROLEGOMENA. 189

Phoenician navy, which in the time of Caesar reached as far as the sea-coast, and the myste-
rious obscurity of which had so terrified the Roman soldiers that the conqueror, to embolden
them, had himself taken an axe and struck down an old oak,"-^ two monasteries were now-
established, — one for men, built it is said over the tomb of S. Victor, a martyr in the persecu-
tion of Diocletian,^ and the other for women. Cassian's long residence in the East and his
intimate knowledge of the monastic system in vogue in Egj'pt made him at once looked up
to as an authority, and practically as the head of the movement which was so rapidly taking
root in Provence; and, although his fame has been oversha-dowed by that of the greatest of
Western monks, S. Benedict of Nursia, yet his is really the credit of being, not indeed the
actual founder, but the first organizer and systematizer, of Western monachism: and it is
hoped that the copious illustrations from the Benedictine rule given in the notes to the first
four books of the Institutes will serve to show how much the founder of the greatest order in
the West was really indebted to his less-known predecessor. " He brought to bear upon the
organization of Gallic monasteries lessons learnt in the East. Although S. Martin and
others were before him, yet his life must be regarded as a new departure for monasticism in
the land. The religious communities of S. Martin and S. Victricius in the centre of France
were doubtless rudimentary and half -developed in discipline when compared with that
established by Cassian at Marseilles, and with the many others which speedily arose mod-
elled upon his elaborate rules." ^ The high estimation in which his work was 'held through-
out the Middle Ages is shown not only by the immense number of MSS. of the Institutes and
Conferences which still remain scattered throughout the libraries of Europe, but also by the
recommendation of them by Cassiodorus, and by S. Benedict himself, who enjoins that the
Conferences should be read daily by the monks of his order.

At Marseilles, then, Cassian settled; and here it was that he wrote his three great works,
— the Institutes, the Conferences, and On the Incarnation against Nestorius ; the two former
being written for the express purpose of encouraging and developing the monastic life. Of
these the Institutes was the earliest, being composed in "twelve books on the institutes of
the monasteries and the remedies for the eight principal faults,"* at the request of Castor,
Bishop of Apta Julia, some forty miles due north of Marseilles, who was desirous of intro-
ducing the monastic life into his diocese, where it was still a thing unknown.^ As Castor
died in 426,^ and the work is dedicated to him, it must have been written some time between
the years 419 and 426. When it was first undertaken Cassian's design already w^as to follow
it up by a second treatise containing the Conferences of the Fathers, to which he several
times alludes in the Institutes as a forthcoming work,'^ and which, like the companion
volume, was undertaken at Castor's instigation. But, before even the first part of it w^as ready
for publication, the Bishop of Apta was dead; and thus, to Cassian's sorrow, he was unable
to dedicate it to him, as he had hoped to do. He therefore dedicated Conferences I.-X. (the
first portion of the work) to Leontius, Bishop (probably) of Fre'jus, and Helladius, who is
termed '" frater " in the Preface to this work, though, as we see from the Preface to Conference
.XVI 1 1., he was afterwards raised to the episcopate.^

This portion of Cassian's work must have been completed shortly after the death of
Castor in 426. It was speedily followed by Part II., containing Conferences XI. to XVII.
This is dedicated to Honoratus and Eucherius, who are styled "fratres." Eucherius did
not become Bishop of Lyons till 434; but, as Honoratus was raised to the see of Aries in
,426, the volume must have been published not later than that year, or he would have been
termed '' Episcopus," as he is in the Preface to Conference XVIII. , instead of "frater."

The third and last part of the work, containing Conferences XVIII. to XXIV., is dedi-
cated to Jovinian, Minervius, Leontius, and Theodore, who are collectively styled "fratres."
Leontius must, therefore, be a different person from the bishop to whom Conferences I.-X.
w'ere dedicated; and nothing further is known of him, or of Minervius and Jovinian. Theo-
dore was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, and succeeded Leontius in the see of Frejus in
432. This third part of Cassian's work was ready before the death of Honoratus, Bishop of

* Montalembert, 1. c.

' The Acts of S. Victor's martyrdom given by Ruinart, Ada Sincere, p. 225, have been attributed by Tillemont and others to Cassian,
but without sufficient reason.

^ The Church hi Roman Gaul, by R. Travers Smith, p. 245.

* This is the title which Cassian himself gives to the work in his Preface to the Conferences.
^ Institutes, Preface.

" Castor is commemorated on the twenty-first of September. See the Bollandist Acta Saturtorum, Sept. VI. 249.
' See the Institutes II. i., ix., xviii, ; V. iv.

' With Papa Leonti et Sancte frater Helladi, in the Preface to Conference I., compare beatissimis Episcopis HeUadio ac Leontio, in
the Preface to Conference XVIII.

I90 . PROLEGOMENA.

Aries, who is spoken of in the Preface as if still living; and, therefore, its publication cannot
be later than 428, as Honoratus died in January, 429.

Thus the whole work was completed between the years 426 and 428; and now Cassian,
who was growing old, was desirous of rest, feeling as if his life's work was nearly over.^
But the repose which he sought was not to be granted to him, for the remaining years of his
life were troubled by two controversies, — the Nestorian, and the Pelagian, — or, rather, its
offshoot, the Semi-Pelagian. Into the history of the former of these there is no need to enter
here in detail. It broke out at Constantinople, where Nestorius had become bishop in suc-
cession to Sisinnius, in 42S. The immediate occasion which gave rise to the controversy was
a sermon by Anastasius, the Bishop's chaplain, in which he inveighed against the title
Theotocos, as given to the Blessed Virgin Mary. This at once created a great sensation, as
Nestorius warmly supported his chaplain, and proceeded to develop the heresy connected
with his name, in a course of sermons. News of the controversy was brought to Egypt, and
Cyril of Alexandria at once entered into the fray. After some correspondence between the
two bishops, both parties endeavoured to gain the adherence of the Church of Rome early in
the year 430; and now it was that Cassian became mixed up with the dispute. Greek learn-
ing was evidently at a low ebb in the Roman Church at this time ;'^ and it was, perhaps,
partly owing to Cassian's familiar acquaintance with this language, as well as owing to his
connexion with Constantinople, where the trouble had now arisen, that Celestine's Arclideacon
Leo turned to him at this crisis for help. Anyhow, whatever was the reason, an earnest
appeal from Rome reached him, begging him to write a refutation of the new heresy. After
some hesitation he consented, and the result of his labours is seen in the seven books on the
Incarnation against Nestorius. The work was evidently done in haste, and published in 430,
before the Council of Ephesus (for Cassian speaks of Nestorius throughout as still Bishop
of Constantinople), and, judging from the way in which Augustine is spoken of in VII.
xxvii., before the death of that Father, which took" place in August, 430. A great part of the
work is occupied with Scripture proof of our Lord's Divinity and unity of Person ; but, taken
as a whole, the treatise is distinctly of less value than Cassian's earlier writings, and betrays
the haste in which it was composed by the occasional use of inaccurate language on the
subject of the Incarnation, and of terms and phrases v/hich the mature judgment of the
Church has rejected. But the writer's keen penetration is seen by the quickness with which
he connects the new heresy with the teaching of Pelagius, the connecting link between the
two being found in the errors of Leporius of Treves, who, in propagating Pelagian views of
man's sufficiency and strength, had applied them to the case of our Lord, not shrinking from
the conclusion that He was a mere man who had used his free will so well as to have lived
without sin, and had only been made Christ in virtue of His baptism, whereby the Divine
and human were associated in such manner that virtually there were two Christs.^ The
connexion between Nestorianism and Pelagianism has often been noticed by later writers,
but to Cassian belongs the credit of having been the first to point it out. Of the impression
produced by his book we have no record. He appears to have taken no further part in the
controversy, which, indeed, must have been to him an episode, coming in the midst of that
other controversy with which his name is inseparably associated; viz., that on Semi-Pela-
gianism, on which something must now be said.

The controversy arose in the following way. During the struggle with Pelagianism
between the years 410 and 420, Augustine's views on the absolute need of grace were gradu-
ally hardening into a theory that grace was irresistible and therefore indefectible. ''Intent
above all things on magnifying the Divine Sovereignty, he practically forgot the complexity
of the problem in hand and failed to do justice to the human element in the mysterious pro-
cess of man's salvation."* The view of an absolute predestination irrespective of foreseen
character, and of the irresistible and indefectible character of grace, was put forward by him,
in a letter to a Roman priest, Sixtus. in the year 418.^ Some years afterwards this letter fell
into the hands of the monks of Adrumetum, some of whom were puzzled by its teaching;
and, in order to allay the disputes among them, the matter was referred to Augustine himself.
Thinking that the monks had misunderstood his teaching, he not only explained the letter
but also wrote afresh treatise, — " De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio " (426) ; and, when that failed

^ See the Preface to the work On tJie Incnmation a^aifisi Nestorius.

' See the Kpistle of Celestinc to Nestorius in Mansi IV. 1026, in wliich he apologizes for delay by saying that the letter and other docu-
ments Kent by Nestorius had had to be translated into Latin.
' See On the Incarnation, Hook I. c. ii. sq.

* The Anti-Pelagian Treatises 0/ S, Augustine ; with an Introduction by William Bright, D.D. (Oxford), 1S89, p. i.

* Epistle xciv.

PROLEGOMENA. 191

to satisfy the malcontents, he followed it up with his work " De Correptione et Gratia" (426),
which, so far as the monks of Adrumetum were concerned, seems to have ended the contro-
versy. Elsewhere, however, hesitation was felt in going the full length of Augustine's teach-
ing; and, in the South of Gaul especially, many were seriously disturbed at the turn which
the controversy had lately taken, and were prepared to reject Augustine's teaching, as not
merely novel, but also practically dangerous. "They said, in effect," to quote Canon
Bright's lucid summary of their position, "to treat predestination as irrespective of foreseen
conduct, and to limit the Divine good-will to a fixed number of persons thus selected, who,
as such, are assured of perseverance, is not only to depart from the older theology, and from
the earlier teaching of the Bishop of Hippo himself, but to cut at the root of religious effort,
and to encourage either negligence or despair. They insisted that whatever theories might
be devised concerning this mystery, which was not a fit subject for popular discussion, the
door of salvation should be regarded as open to all, because the Saviour ' died for all.' To
explain away the Scriptural assurance was, they maintained, to falsify the Divine promise
and to nullify human responsibility. They believed in the doctrine of the Fall; they
.acknowledged the necessity of real grace in order to man's restoration; they even admitted
that this grace must be 'prevenient ' to such acts of will as resulted in Christian good
works: but some of them thought — and herein consisted the error called Semi-Pelagian —
that nature, unaided, could take the first step towards its recovery, by desiring to be healed
through faith in Christ. If it could not, — if the very beginning of all good were strictly a
Divine act, — exhortations seemed to them to be idle, and censure unjust, in regard to those
on whom no such act had been wrought, and who, therefore, until it should be wrought, were
helpless, and so far guiltless, in the matter. " ^ Of the party which took up this position
Cassian was the recognized head. True, he did not directly enter into the controversy him-
self, nor is he the author of any polemical works upon the subject; but it is impossible to
doubt that the thirteenth Conference, containing the teaching of Abbot Cheeremon on the
Protection of God, was intended to meet what he evidently regarded as a serious error; viz.,
the implicit denial by the Augustinians of the need of effort on man's part.

Augustine was informed of the teaching of the School of Marseilles, as it was called, by
one Hilary (a layman, not to be confounded with his namesake, the Bishop of Aries), who
wrote to him two letters, of which the former is lost. The latter is still existing, and con-
tains a careful account of what was maintained at Marseilles. Towards the close of it
Hilary says that, as he was pressed for time, he had prevailed upon a friend to write as well,
and would attach his letter to his own. This friend was Prosper of Aquitaine, also a layman
and an ardent Augustinian, whose epistle has been preserved as well as Hilary's.^ From these
letters, and from the works which Augustine wrote in reply, we learn that the "Massilians"
had been first disturbed by some of Augustine's earlier writings, as the Epistle to Paulinus;
and that their distrust of his teaching on the subjects of Grace, Predestination, and Freewill
had been increased by the receipt of his work ''De Correptione et Gratia," although in other
matters they agreed with him entirely, and were great admirers of his.^ Personally, they are
spoken of with great respect as men of no common virtue, and of wide influence; and, though
Cassian 's name is never mentioned in the correspondence, yet it is easy to read between the
lines and see that he is referred to.*

Augustine replied to his correspondents by writing what proved to be almost his latest
works, — the treatises " De Praedestinatione Sanctorum" and "De dono Perseverantice." In
these volumes Augustine, while freely acknowledging the great difference between his oppo-
nents and the Pelagians, yet maintained as strongly as ever his own position, and "did not
abate an iota of the contention that election and rejection were arbitrary, and that salvation
was not really within the reach of all Christians." ^ Thus the books naturally failed to satisfy
the recalcitrant party, or to convince those who thought that the denial of the freedom of
the will tended to destroy man's responsibility. Prosper, however, was delighted with the
treatises, and proceeded to follow them up with a work of his own, a poem of a thousand lines,

^ A nti-Pelagian Treatises, p. liv., Iv. .....

2 Epp. ccxxv., ccxxvi., in the correspondence of S. Auj^ustine. Jror/^^, Vol. II. S20, in the Benedictine Edition.

3 Cassian himself quotes Augustine as an authority for the Catholic doctrine of the Incarnation in his work against Nestorius, VII.
xxvii. But it is remarkable that, whereas on all the' other authorities quoted (Hilary, Ambrose, Jerome, Rufinus, Gregory, Nazianzen,
Athanasius, and Chr\-sostom) a high encomium is passed, .Augustine alone is alluded to with no words of praise, being simply spoken of
as priest (sacerdos) o'f Hippo Regius. There is no authority for the reading " magnus sacerdos," found in the editions of Cuyck and Gazet,
which misled Neander. Ch. Hist. Vol. IV. p. •^76, E. T.

■« The only person referred to by name is Hilary, who had just succeeded Honoratus as Bishop of Aries. This fixes the date of the
correspondence as 429.

'" Bright's A nti-Pelagian Treatises, 1. c.

ig:

PROLEGOMENA.

"De Ingratis," by which he designates the Pelagians and Semi-Pelagians, whose opinions he
speaks of as spreading with alarming rapidity. The date of this publication was probably the
early part of 430. It was certainly written before the death of Augustine, which took place
on August 28 of the same year. The removal from this life of the great champion of Grace
did not bring to an end the controversy to which his writings had given birth. The school
of Marseilles continued to propagate its views with unabated vigour, in spite of the protests of
Prosper and Hilary, who finally took the important step of appealing to Pope Celestine, from
whom they succeeded in obtaining a letter addressed to the Galilean Bishops, Venerius of
Marseilles, Leontius of Fre'jus, Marinus, Auxonius, Arcadius, Filtanius, and the rest.-* Ce-
lestine speaks strongly of their negligence in not having suppressed what he regarded as a
public scandal, and says that "priests ought not to teach so as to invade the episcopal pre-
rogative," an expression in which we may well see an allusion to Cassian, the leading presbyter,
of the diocese of Marseilles, whose Bishop is named first in the opening salutation; and
the letter concludes with some words of eulogium on Augustine "of holy memory." Never,
perhaps, was Galilean independence shown in a more striking manner than in the sturdy way
in which the Massilians clung to their views in spite of the authority of the Pope now brought,
to bear upon them. Prosper and Hilary on their return found the obnoxious teaching daily
spreading, so that the former of them finally determined to put down, if possible, the upholders
of the objectionable tenets by a direct criticism of Cassian's Conferences. This was the ori-
gin of Prosper's work " Contra CoUatorem," against the author of the Conferences, a treatise of
considerable power and force, although not scrupulously fair. ^ The respect in which Cassian
was held is strikingly shown by the fact that his antagonist never once names him directly,
but ?nerely speaks of him as a man of priestly rank who surpassed all his companions in
power of arguing. The work consists of an examination of the thirteenth Conference, that
of Abbot Chaeremon, on the Protection of God, from which Prosper extracts twelve proposi-
tions, the first of which he says is orthodox while all the others are erroneous^. He concludes

' The letter is given in full in Gazet's edition of Cassian, with certain doctrinal articles appended, which really belong to a later date.
See Dr. Newman's note to the English translation of Fleury, Book XXV 1. c. xi.

- The treatise is given in Gazet's edition of Cassian.

" The propositions. extracted by Prosper are the following: —

(i) That the initiative not only'of our actions but also of our good thoughts conies from God, virhq inspires us with a good will to begin
with, and supplies us with the opportunity of carrying out what we rightly desire ; for " every good gift and every perfect gift cometh down
from above, from the Father of light," who both begins what is good, and continues it and completes it in us. c. iii. This proposition
Prosper allows to be catholic and orthodox.

(2) The Divine protection is inseparably present with us, and so great is the kindness of the Creator towards His creatures that His
Providence not only accompanies it, but even constantly precedes it, as the prophet experienced and plainly confessed, saying, " My God
will prevent me with His mercy." And when He sees in us some beginnings of a good will, He at once enlightens and strengthens it, and
urges it on towards salvation, increasing that wliich He Himself implanted, or which He sees to have arisen from our own efforts, c. viii.

(3) Only in all these there is a declaration of the grace of God ant/ the freedom of the will, because even of his own motion a man can
be led to the quest of virtue, but always stands in need of the help of the Lord. For neither does any one enjoy good health whenever he
likes, nor is he of his own will and pleasure set free from disease and sickness, c. ix.

(4) That it mav be still clearer that, through the excellence of nature, which is granted by the goodness of the Creator, sometimes the
first beginnings of a good will arise, which, however, cannot attain to the complete performance of what is good unless they are guided
by the Lord, the apostle bears witness, and says, " P'or to will is present with me, but to perform what is good I find not.|' /6.

(5) And so tliese are somehow mixed up and indiscriminately confused, so that, among many persons, the question which depends upon
the other is involved in great difficultv; i.e., does God have compassion upon us because we have shown the beginning of a good will, or
does the beginning of a good will follow because God has had compassion upon us ? For many, believing each of these alternatives, and
asserting them more broadly than is right, are entangled in all kinds of opposite errors. For if we say that the beginning of free will is in
our own power, what about Paul the persecutor, what about Matthew the publican, of whom the one was drawn to salvation while eager
for bloodshed and the punishment of the innocent, the other while eager for violence and rapine? But, if we say that the beginning of our
free will is always due to the inspiration of the grace of God, what about the faith of Zaccha^us, or what are we to say of the goodness of
the thief on the cross, who by their own desires brought violence to bear on the kingdom of heaven, and prevented the special leadings o£
their vocation ? c. xi.

(6) 'J'hese two, then, viz., the grace of God and Free-will, seem opposed to each other, but really are in harmony; and we gather from
natural piety that we ought to have both alike, lest if we withdraw one of them fnmi men we should seem to have broken the rule of the
Church's faith. /*.

(7) Adam, therefore, after the fall, conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not previously, but did not lose the knowledge of good
which he already possessed, c. xii.

(S) Wherefore we must take care not to refer all the merits of the saints to the Lord in such a way as to ascribe nothing but what is evil
and perverse to human nature. /6.

(9) It cannot be doubted that there are by nature some seeds of goodness implanted by the kindness of the Creator, but unless they are
quickened bv the assistance of God they cannot attain an increase of perfection, /i.

(10) And for this, too, we read that in the case of Job, his well-tried athlete, when the Devil had challenged him to single combat, the
Divine righteousness had made provision. For, if he had advanced against his foe not with his own strength, but solely with the protection
of God's gr.ace, and, supported onlv bv Divine aid, without any virtue of patience on his own part, had borne that manifold weight of tempta-
tions and losses, contrived with all'the cruelty of his foe might not the Devil have repeated with some justice that slanderous speech which
he had previously uttered, " Doth [ob .serve God for nought? Hast Thou not liedged liim in, and all his substance round about? But
take away thine hand," ie., allow him to fight with me iii his own strength, "and he will cur.se Thee to Thy face." But, as after the
struggle the slanderous foe dared not give ve'nt to any sucli murmur as this,"he admitted that he was vanquished by his (i.e., Job's) strength,
and'not by that of God : although, too, we must not liold that the grace of God was altogether wanting to him, which gave to the tempter a
power of tempting in proportion to that which he had of resisting, c. xiv.

(11) The Lord marvelled at him (viz., the centurion), and praised him, and put him before all those of the people of Israel who had
believed, saying, " Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith in Israel." For there would have been no ground for praise or
merit if Christ had only preferred in him what He Himself had given. /&.

(12) Hence it comes that in our prayers we proclaim God as not only our protector and Saviour, but actually as our helper and sponsor.
For whereas He first calls us to Him, and while we are still ignorant and unwilling draws us towards salvation, He is our protector and

PROLEGOMENA. 193

by warning his antagonist of the danger of Pelagianism, and expresses a hope that his doctrine
may be condemned by Pope Sixtus as it had been by Celestine and his predecessors. l"he
hxst statement fixes the date of the book as not earlier than 432; for Celestine only died, in
April in that year.

Cassian was evidently still living when this attack upon him was made; but, so far as we
know, he made no reply to it. Its publication is the last event in his life of which we have
any knowledge. He probably died shortly afterwards, as the expression used by Gennadius
in speaking of his work against Nestorius would seem to imply that it preceded his death by
no long interval; for he says that with this he brought to a close his literary labours and his
life in the reign of Theodosius and Valentinian.^

The controversy on Grace and Freewill lingered on for nearly a century longer, and was
only finally disposed of by the wise moderation shown by Caesarius of Aries anrf those who
acted with him at the Council of Orange (Arausio), in the year 529.^

While it cannot be denied that the teaching of Cassian and his school in denying the
necessity of initial and prevenient grace is erroneous and opens a door at which Pelagianism
may easily creep in, yet it was an honest attempt to vindicate human responsibility; and it
must be frankly admitted that the teaching of Augustine was one-sided and required to be
balanced: nor would the question have ever been brought into prominence had it not been
for the hard and rigorous way in which the doctrine of Predestination was taught, and the
denial that the possibility of salvation lay within the reach of all men. While, then, it is
granted that a verdict of guilty must be returned on the charge of Semi-Pelagianism in Cas-
sian's case, we are surely justified in claiming that a recommendation to mercy be attached
to it on the plea of extenuating circumstances. Since his death Cassian has ever occupied a
somewhat ambiguous position in the mind of the Church. Never formally canonized, his
name is not found in the Calendars of the W^est; nor is he honoured with the title of '' Saint."
He is, however, generally spoken of as "the blessed Cassian," holding in this respect the
same position as Theodoret, of whom Dr. Newman says that, though he "has the responsi-
bility of acts which have forfeited to him that oecumenical dignity," yet he is '"not without
honorary title in the Church's hagiolog}^; for he has ever been known as the ' blessed Theo-
doret. ' " ^ In the East Cassian's position is somewhat better. He is there regarded as a saint,
and may possibly be intended by the Cassian who is commemorated on February 29.* It is
only natural that this difference should be made, for the Eastern Church has always held a
milder view of the effect of the Fall than that which has been current in the West since the
days of Augustine ; and, indeed, Cassian, in making his protest againt the rising tide of Augus-
tinianism, was in the main only handing, on the teaching which he had received from his
Eastern instructors.

CHAPTER 11.

THE HISTORY OF CASSIAN'S WRITINGS, MSS., AND EDITIONS.

The literary history of Cassian's works is not without an interest of its own. We have
already seen the estimation in which they were held in spite of their Semi-Pelagian doctrines.
These were naturally accounted a blemish, and it is not surprising that those who most
admired their excellences were anxious to avoid propagating their errors. Hence they were
often "expurgated," and in many MSS. the text has suffered considerably from the changes
made by copyists in the interests of orthodoxy. As early as the fifth century we find two
revised versions of portions of his works existing. His friend Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons,

Saviour ; but whereas, when we are already striving, He is wont to bring us help, and to receive and defend those who fly to Him for refuge.
He is deemed our sponsor and refuge, c. xvii.

This last extract is in itself perfectly orthodox, and might be thought merely to express the distinction between " preventing [' and
"co-operating" grace; but the context makes it clear that Cassian means that in some cases grace "prevents," while in others the initial
movement towards salvation comes from man, and grace is only needed to " co-operate."

1 Gennadius, in Catal., c. Ixii. Ad extremum rogatus a Leone Archidiacono, posteaurbis Romje Episcopo, scripsit adyersus Nestorium
" De Incarnatione Domini " libros septem, et in his scribendi apud Massiliam et vivendi finem fecit Theodosio et Valentiniano regnaiuibus.
The local commemoration of Cassian is on July 23.

- On the history of Semi-Pelagianism see Yin^hi's Anii-Pelag-ian Treatises 0/ S. Augustine, Introd.,pp. xlix.-lxviii., and the Christian
Remembrancer, Vol. XXXI. pp. 155-162.

^ Historical Sketches, Vol. III., p. 307.

* The identification is anything but certain, for though there is no difficulty in the term 'PioMaio?, as that is also applied to our author
by Photius, yet the additional statement made in the Horologion, that he was originally o-TpaTiwrncbs rriv tu^lv, suggests that a different
person is alluded to, possibly the same as the Cassian commemorated in the Roman martyrology on August 13.

A list of some twenty-five churches where Cassian is honoured as a saint is given in Guesnay's Cassiantts lUustratus.

194 PROLEGOMENA.

was the author of an epitome of the Institutes, which still exists;^ and although this was
compiled for convenience' sake because of the length of the original work, rather than from
any suspicion of his teaching, the case is different with a recension made for use in Africa
by Victor, Bishop of Martyrites. This is no longer extant, but Cassiodorus distinctly tells us
that it was made in the interests of orthodoxy by means of expurgation as well as addition of
what was wanting.- Yet another epitome of three of the Conferences (L, II., VII.) was made
at some time before the tenth century. It was translated into Greek, and known to Photius,
who speaks'' of three works of Cassian as translated into Greek: viz., (i) an Epitome of the
Institutes, Books I. -IV. ; (2) Epitome of the Institutes, Books V.-XII. ; and (3) one of the
Conferences I., II., VII.

Thus in very early days the fashion was set of expurgating and emending the writings of
Cassian; afld Leuwis de Ryckel, better known as Dionysius Carthusianus, might have quoted
several precedents for his method of dealing with the text. This famous divine, — the doctor
exstaticus of the fifteenth century, — shocked as others had been before him at the Semi-Pela-
gianism of the Conferences, and yet sensible of their real value in spite of sundry blemishes,
took in hand to correct them, and gave to the world a free paraphrase both of the Institutes
and of the Conferences, in a somewhat simple style and one more easy to be understood than
the original. The greatest alterations, as might be expected, are visible in the thirteenth
Conference; as Dionysius, in his endeavour to make Cassian orthodox, omits all that savours
of Semi-Pelagianism; and from c. viii. onward there are large omissions and various sugges-
tive alterations in the text.*

Incidental mention has been already made of the esteem in which the Institutes and
Conferences were held by S. Benedict and Cassiodorus. In the Rule of the former (c. xlii.)
it is ordered that after supper the brethren should assemble together, and one of them
should read the Conferences, or Lives of the Fathers, or any other book calculated to edify.
And again, in the closing chapter of the same rule, the study of them is recommended to those
who are desirous of perfection; for "what are the Conferences of the Fathers, the Institutes,
and the lives of them; what, too, the Rule of our holy father, S. Basil, but examples of
virtuous and obedient monks, and helps to the attainment of virtue? " Equally strong is the
recommendation of Cassiodorus: " Sedulo legite, frequenter audite; " but at the same time
he reminds his readers that Cassian was very properly censured by Prosper for his teaching on
Freewill, and that, therefore, he is to be read with caution whenever he touches on this subject.
With testimonies such as these to their value it is no wonder that copies were rapidly multi-
plied, so that scarcely a monastery was without a copy of some part of them ; and existing
MSS. of the Institutes and Conferences are very numerous. But none of the oldest MSS.
contain the complete work. The Institutes were often regarded as made up of two separate
treatises, — (i) the Institutes of the Coenobia, containing Books I.-IV., and (2) On the
Eight Principal Faults, comprising Books V.-XII. So, too, with the Conferences, and their
three divisions: they are often found separately in different MSS.

The MSS. being so numerous, it was found impossible to collate them all for the latest
edition of Cassian's works; viz., that edited by Petschenig for the Vienna Corpus Scriptorum
Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum. The Editor therefore confined his attention to a limited num-
ber, of which the following is the list.

1. The Institutes.

1. Codex Casinensis Rescriptus, 295. A Palimpsest with the Epistles of S. Jerome written over Cassian's
work. The date of this MS. is the seventh or eighth century, and it contains portions only of the Institutes,
nothing remaining of Books I.-IV., or of VIII. and IX.

2. Codex Majoris Seminarii CEduensis (Autun), 24. Seventh century, containing portions of Books V.-XII.

3. Caroliruhensis, 87. Eighth century, containing all twelve books.

4. .Sangallensis, 1S3. Ninth century.

5. Parisinus, 12292. Tenth century.

6. Laudunensis (Laon), 32S bis. Ninth century.

7. Caroliruhensis, 164. Ninth century.

' Gennadiiis, Catal. Ixiv. In the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, art. Eucherius, this is said to be lost. But see Migne, Vol. L.
p. 867 sq ; and cf. Pelschenip;'s Introduction to Cassian, p. xcvi.

- Div. I.ect. c. xxix. Cujus (Cassiani) dicta Victor Mattaritanus Episcopus Afer ita Domino jiivante purgavit et quae minus erant
addidit ut ei rerum istarum palma merito conferatur : quern inter alios de Africa parlibus cito nobis credimus esse dirigendum.

' Kibiioth, Cod. 197.

■• The " Doctrina Catholica Beati Dionysii Richelii Carthusian! precedent! Collatidni ab ipso substituta," given in Gazet's edition,
and hence in Migne's, as c. xix., is only the latter •p:ir\. of the paraphrase of this Conference, beginning in c. viii., with the words, " Adest
igiiur inseparabiliter nobis," etc.

The paraphrase may be found in Vol. III. of the edition of the works of Dionysius, published at Cologne in 1540. Of this there is a
copy m the British Museum which was formerly in the possession of Archbishop Cranmer, and which still contains his autograph.

PROLEGOMENA. 195

II. Conferences I.-X.

1. Vaticanus, 5766. Eighth century.

2. Parisinus, iJibl. Nat., 133S4. Ninth century.

3. Vcrcellcnsis (Chapter Liijrary), 187, 44. Cent. 8-10.

4. Parisinus. Bil)i. Nat. nouv. fonds, 2170. Ninth century. This (with a few lacunae) contains a// the Con-
ferences, being the only one of Petschenig's MSS. of which this can be said.

5. Vaticanus, Bibl. Palat., 560. Tenth century.

6. Sangallensis, 574. Cent, g-ro-

Of these MSS. the last two contain many errors and interpolations, some of which are followed in the editions
of Cassian published at Basle, 1485-1495.

III. CONFERKNCES XI.-XVII.

1. .Sessorianus (Rome), 55. Cent. 7-8.

2. Petropolitanus, Bibl. Imp. O. i, 4. Seventh or eighth century.

3. Sangallensis. 576. Ninth century.

4. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above).

5. Vindobonensis, 397. Tenth century. This Vienna MS. contains Prosper's work Contra Collaiorem, the
passages of Cassian being written in the margin.

IV. Conferences XVIII.-XXIV.

1. Monacensis, 4549. Cent. 8-9.

2. Monacensis, 6343. Ninth century.

3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above).

4. Vaticanus, Bibl. Reginae Suecise, 140. Cent. 9-10.

5. Caroliruhensis, 92. Ninth century.

6. Sangallensis, 575. Ninth century.

Passing now from the Institutes and Conferences to the work "On the Incarnation
against Nestorius," we are no longer encumbered by the number of MSS. There was not the
same reason for the multiplication of copies of it as there was in the case of those writings
which bore on the monastic life. It appears never to have obtained any special popularity,
and, so far as is known, only seven MSS. of it are still in existence. The following are those
of which Petschenig made use for his edition: —

1. Code.x Bibl. Armentarii Parisiensis (Bibl. de I'Arsenal), 483. Cent. lo-ii.

2. British Museum addl., 16414. Cent. 11-12.

3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat., 14860. Thirteenth century.

4. Bibl. Coloniensium Augustinianorum. This MS. is now lost, but was used by Cuyck for his edition of
Cassian, and from this Petschenig is able to give selected readings.

The remaining MSS. known to exist, but not used by Petschenig, are these: —

Matritensis, Bibl. Nat., Q. 106. Twelfth century.

Laurentianus (Laurentian Library at Florence), XXVI., 13. Fifteenth century.
Bibl. Leo]). Medici Fcesulanae (also at Florence), 48. Fifteenth century.
Parisinus, 2143. Fourteenth century. ^

It only remains to give some account of the various editions of the printed text.

It has generally been stated that the earliest edition of the Institutes was that printed at
Venice in 1481, of which only a single copy is known to exist, viz., in the Laurentian Library
at Florence; and that the first edition which included the Conferences was that published by
Amerbach at Basle in 1485. This statement, however, appears to be erroneous, as there still
exists in the British Museum a single copy of a very early black-letter edition of the Confer-
ences. The title-page is gone, and there is no colophon ; and, therefore, the date cannot be
given with certainty, but the work is assigned by the authorities of the Museum to the year
1476, and is thought to have proceeded from the press of the Brothers of the Common life at
Brussels. The first pa^e of the work begins as follows : " Ut Valeas cor in opere isto citius
invenire qd requiris hffic tibi concapitulatio breviter demostrabit quis unde in singulis col-
lationibus disputaverit." Then follows a list of the twenty-four Conferences with their
authors, and the page ends with these words: "Prologus cassiani sup. collationes patrti ad
leontiu et elladiu epos. In nomine Domini ihu cristi dei nostri feliciter."

This, then, in all probability was the first edition of the Latin text of the Conferences. But
it is a curious fact that at a still earlier date a free German translation or paraphrase of them
had already been published. This, like the work just mentioned, has been overlooked by all
the editors of Cassian, but two copies of it still remain in the British Museum, beginning as
follow: " Hie liber a quodam egregio sacrarum literarum professore magistro Johane Nide
ordis pdicatorum fratre de latino in vulgarem Nuremberge translatus est." The colophon

1 On all these MSS. see Petschenig's introduction, Cassian, VoL I. pp. xiv.-lxxviii.

196 PROLEGOMENA.

in one copy gives the date as 1472, and the place at which it was printed as Augsberg. The
other copy has no date but is assigned by the authorities of the Museum to a still earlier
year; viz., 1470.

The Basle edition of 1485 was reprinted at the press of Amerbach in 1497 ; and at Venice
there was issued a second edition of the Institutes, to which the Conferences were added, in
1491.-^ Subsequent early editions are those of Lyons, in 1516 and 1525, and Bologna 1521.
But not till 1534 were the seven books on the Incarnation against Nestorius published. They
appear for the first time in the edition which was issued in this year from the press of Cra-
tander at Basle.

Far superior to all these early editions, which were very faulty, was that published by
Christopher Plantin at Antwerp in 157S, edited by H. Cuyck, Professor at Louvain and after-
ward Bishop of Ruremonde. It was undertaken at the suggestion of Cardinal Carafa, and its
full title is the following: '"D. loannis Cassiani Eremitai Monasticarum Institutionum libri
IIII. De Capitalibus vitiis libri VIII. Collationes SS. Patrum XXIIII. De Verbi Incar-
natione libri VII. Nunc demum post varias editiones ad complurium MS. fidem a non panels
mendarum milibus incredibili labore expurgati: id quod ex subiectis ad calcem castiga-
tionibus facile cognosci poterit: additis etiam ad qusedam loca censoriis notationibus, et
obscurarum vocum ac sententiarun elucidatione, un a cum duobus Indicibus locupletissimis.
Accesserunt quoque Regulae SS. Patrum ex antiquissimo Afifliginiensis monasterii MS.
codice desumptae. Opera et studio Henrici Cuyckii Sacree Theologiae Licentiati."

Cuyck's work was supplemented, also at Carafa's desire, by Petrus Ciacconius, a priest of
Toledo, who died in 1581, before it was ready for the press. A new edition was, however, pub-
lished at Rome in 1588 "ex Edibus Dominicae Basas," in which the notes and emendations
of Ciacconius were embodied. Unfortunately this edition does not contain the books on the
Incarnation. Its full title is as follows: "loannis Cassiani Eremitae de institutis renuntian-
tium Libri XII. Collationes Sanctorum Patrum XXIIII. Adiect^e sunt quarundam obscura-
rum dictionum interpretationes ordine alphabeti disposita;: et observationes in loca ambigua
et minus tuta. Praeterea Indices duo testimoniorum sacrjE Scripturce, qu£ a Cassiano vel
explicantur, vel aliter quam vulgata editio habet, citantur: ac postremo verum memorabi-
lium Index copiosissimus. Accedit Regula S. Pachomii, quae a S. Hieronymo in Latinum
sermonem conversa est: Omnia multo quam antehac, auxilio vetustissimorum codicum, emen-
datiora, et ad suam integritatem restituta." This edition, as well as the previovis one, con-
tained a dissertation on a number of passages (some thirty in all) of doubtful orthodoxy, in
order to put the reader on his guard against following Cassian in his errors.

In 1616 there was published at Douay in two volumes what has remained until the present
day the standard edition of Cassian's works, prepared with loving care by a Benedictine
monk of the Abbey of St. Vaast at Arras, named Gazet. This edition is enriched throughout
with copious annotations, containing an immense amount of illustrative matter ; and besides the
text of Cassian's works it contains several other documents of importance for a right under-
standing of them. The full title is this: "loannis Cassiani presbyteri, quem alii eremitam,
alii abbatem nuncupant, opera omnia. Novissime recognita, repurgata et notis amplissi-
mis illustrata. Quibus accessere alia ejusdem argumenti opuscula, quorum elenchum sequens
pagina exhibebit. Studio et opera D. Alardi Gazaei ccenobitoe Vedastini ord. Benedicti."

Besides the Institutes, Conferences, and the work on the Incarnation against Nestorius,
these volumes contained the following among other material : —

The Rule of St. Pachomius.

The Catholic doctrine substituted for the latter part of Conference XIII. by Dionysius
Carthusianus.

Prosper "Contra Collatorem."

This edition has been frequently reprinted,'^ some of the later reprints containing still
more illustrative material. It still remains indispensable to the student of Cassian's works
by reason of the valuable commentary with which it is throughout enriched. But for the mere
text it is now altogether superseded by the fine edition prepared by Petschenig for the A'ienna
Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, in two volumes.

Vol. I. — loannis Cassiani De Institutis Coenobiorum et de octo Principalium Vitiorum
Remediis Libri XII. De Incarnatione Domini Contra Nestorium Libri VII. recensuit et
commentario critico instruxit T^Iichael Petschenig. Accedunt Prolegomena et Indices (Vin-
dobonaj, 1888).

* Of this edition there is a copy in the British M useum which formerly belonged to the Convent of S. Mark at Florence, and is enriched
with marginal notes in the handwriting of Girolamo Savonarola.

* Gazet himself prepared a revised edition, which was brought out after his death, at Arras, in 1628.

PROLEGOMENA. 197

Vol. II. — loannis Cassiani Conlationes XXIIII. (Vindobona;, 1886). Petschenig's work
is admirably done, and the text of this edition is vastly superior to that of all its predeces-
sors. In the present translation it has been used throughout the C'onferences. The volume
containing the Institutes and the work on the Incarnation unfortunately appeared too late for
the translation to be made from it. It has, however, been carefully compared with the text of
Ciacconius, which Gazet merely repeats,^ and attention is called to the chief variations in
the notes.

Mention has already^been made of the early German paraphrase or translation, dating from
1470 or 1472; and the popularity of the Cassian's works is evinced by the number of other
early translations made into the various languages of Europe. Of these next in order of time
is one in Flemish. In the copy of this in the' British Museum the title is wanting, the book
beginning as follows: '' Hier beghint der ouder vader collacie. Hi hyetede loannes Cassianus
die dese vieretwintich navolgende vad, collacien ghemaect hevet. " The colophon is this:
" Hier eyndet een seer goede en profitelike leeringhe. En is ghenoemt der ouder vaders col-
lacien. Michiel hiller van Hoochstraten. Tantwerpen 1506. fol."

Very little later is the first of several French translations, with the following curious title:
" Les Collacions des sains Peres anciens translateez de Grec en latin. Par Cassiodorus tres
sainct docteur en theologie et translateez de latin en francoys par maistre ieha gosein aussy
docteur en theologie de I'ordre des freres de la Montaigne du carme et imprimees nouvelle-
ment a paris." No date is given, but the work is assigned by the Museum authorities to the
year 15 10.

Later French translations are the following: —

Paris. Chez Charles Savreux. 8° les Confe'rences de Cassien traduites en fran9ois par
De Saligny. 1663. (This edition altogether omits the thirteenth Conference.)

Paris. Chez Charles Savreux. 8° les Institutions de Cassien traduites en fran9ois par
De Saligny. 1667.

Institutions de Cassien traduites par E. Cartier. Paris, Tours, 1872.

There are also two Italian translations, one as early as 1563 (Opera. Tradottaper B. Buffi.
Venetia. 1563. 4°), and one of the present centurj', — Volgarizzamento delle collazioni dei
SS. Padri del venerabile G. C. [By Bartolommeo da San Concordio?] Testo di lingua in
edito [edited by T. Bini]. Lucca. 1854. 8°.

It is remarkable that England has till now stood almost alone in possessing no transla-
tion, Cassian's works having never yet appeared in an English press. It is hoped that the
version now offered to the reader may do something to make the works of this interesting and
most instructive writer more widely known than they appear to be at present.

^ The edition used is that published at Leipsio in 1733. It cannot, however, be recommended, as it is full of misprints.

PREFACE.

The history of the Old Testament tells us that the most wise Solomon received from
heaven "wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and largeness of heart even as the sand
that is on the seashore that cannot be counted; " ^ so that by the Lord's testimony we may say
that no one either has arisen in time past equal to him or will arise after him: and afterward,
when wishing to raise that magnificent temple to the Lord, we are told that he asked the help
of a foreigner, the king of Tyre. And when there was sent to him one Hiram, the son of a
widow woman,- it was by his means and ministration that he executed all the glorious things
which he devised by the suggestion of the Divine wisdom either for the temple of the Lord or
for the sacred vessels. If, then, that power that was higher than all the kingdoms of the earth,
and that noble and illustrious scion of the race of Israel, and that divinely inspired wisdom
which excelled the training and customs of all the Easterns and Egyptians, by no means
disdained the advice of a poor man and a foreigner, rightly also do you, most blessed Pope ^
Castor, taught by these examples, deign to call in me, a worthless creature though I am,
and in every respect as poor as possible, to a share in so great a work. When you are plan-
ning to build a true and reasonable temple for God, not with inanimate stones but with a
congregation of saints, and no temporal or corruptible building, but one that is eternal and
cannot be shaken; and desiring also to consecrate to the Lord most precious vessels not forged
of dumb ■* metal, of gold or silver, which a Babylonish monarch may afterwards take and devote
to the pleasures of his concubines and princes,^ but fashioned of holy souls which shine with
the uprightness of innocence, righteousness, and purity, and bear about Christ abiding in
themselves as King; — since, then, you are anxious that the institutions of the East and
especially of Egypt should be established in your province, which is at present without mon-
asteries,*^ although you are yourself perfect in all virtues and knowledge and so filled with all
spiritual riches that not only your talk but even your life alone is amply sufficient for an
example to those who are seeking perfection, — yet you ask me, not knowing what to say, and
feeble in speech and knowledge, to contribute something from the scanty supply of my
thoughts toward the satisfaction of your desire; and you charge me to declare, although with
inexpert pen, the customs of the monasteries which we have seen observed throughout Egypt
and Palestine, as they were there delivered to us by the Fathers; not looking for graceful
speech, in which you yourself are especially skilled, but wanting the simple life of holy men to
be told in simple language to the brethren in your new monastery. But in proportion as a
dutiful desire of granting your request urges me to obey, so do mianifold difficulties and
embarrassments deter me when wishing to comply. First, because my merits are not so pro-
portioned to my age as for me to trust that I can worthily comprehend with my mind and
heart matters so difficult, so obscure, and so sacred. Secondly, because that which we either
tried to do or learnt or saw when from our earliest youth we lived among them and were
urged on by their daily exhortations and examples, — this we can scarcely retain in its entirety
when we have been for so many years withdrawn from intercourse with them and from fol-
lowing their mode of life; especially as the method of these things cannot possibly be taught
or understood or kept in the mem^ory by idle meditation and verbal teaching, for it depends
entirely upon experience and practice. And, as these things cannot be taught save by one

1 Kings iv._ 29. 2 lb. vii. 13.

^ Papa. The title was at an early period confined to bishops in the West, but was not limited to the Bishop of Rome till a later date.

* Petschenig's text reads vtuto. Another reading is mitlto.
5 C£. Dan. v. 2.

* Castor, at whose request this work was written, was Bishop of Apta Julia in Gallia Narbonensis.

199

200 PREFACE.

who has had experience of them, so they cannot even be learnt or understood except by one
who has tried with equal care and pains to grasp them; while, unless they are often discussed
and well worn in frequent conferences with spiritual men, they quickly fade away through
carelessness of mind. Thirdly, because a discourse that is lacking in skill cannot properly
expound those things which we can recall to mind, not as the things themselves deserve, but
as our condition allows us. To this it must be added that on this very subject men who were
noble in life and eminent for speech and knowledge have already put forth several little books,
I mean Basil and Jerome, and some others, the former of whom, when the brethren asked
about various rules and questions, replied in language that was not only eloquent but rich in
testimonies from Holy Scripture; while the latter not only published works that were the off-
spring of his own genius, but also translated into Latin works that had been written in Greek. ^
And, after such abundant streams of eloquence, I might not unfairly be accused of presumption
for trying to produce this feeble rill, were it not that the confidence of your holiness encour-
aged me, and the assurance that these trifles would be acceptable to you, whatever they were
like, and that you would send them to the congregation of the brethren dwelling in your newly
founded monastery. And if by chance I have said anything without sufficient care, may they
kindly overlook it and endure it with a somewhat indulgent pardon, asking rather for trust-
worthiness of speech than for grace of style on my part. Wherefore, most blessed Pope, remark-
able example of religion and humility, encouraged by your prayers, I will to the best of my
ability approach the work which you enjoin; and those matters which were altogether left
untouched by those who preceded us, since they endeavoured to describe what they had heard
rather than what they had experienced, these things I will tell as to an inexperienced mon-
astery, and to men who are indeed- athirst. Nor certainly shall I try to weave a tale of
God's miracles and signs, although we have not only heard of many such among our elders,
and those past belief, but have also seen them fulfilled under our very eyes; yet, leaving out
all these things which minister to the reader nothing but astonishment and no instruction in the
perfect life, I shall try, so far as I can, with the help of God, faithfully to explain only their
institutions and the rules of their monasteries, and especially the origin and causes of the
principal faults, of which they reckon eight, and the remedies for them according to their
traditions, — since my purpose is to say a few words not about God's miracles, but about the
way to improve our character, and the attainment of the perfect life, in accordance with that
which we received from our elders. In this, too, I will try to satisfy your directions, so that,
if I happen to find that anything has been either withdrawn or added in those countries not
in accordance with the example of the elders established by ancient custom, but according
to the fancy of any one who has founded a monastery, I will faithfully add it or omit it, in
accordance with the rule which I have seen followed in the monasteries anciently founded
throughout Egypt and Palestine, as I do not believe that a new establishment in the West, in
the parts of Gaul could find anything more reasonable or more perfect than are those customs,
in the observance of which the monasteries that have been founded by holy and spiritually
minded fathers since the rise of apostolic preaching endure even to our own times. I shall,
however, venture to exercise this discretion in my work, — that where I find anything in the
rule of the Egyptians which, either because of the severity of the climate, or owing to some
difficulty or diversity of habits, is impossible in these countries, or hard and difficult, I shall
to some extent balance it by the customs of the monasteries which are found throughout
Pontus and Mesopotamia; because, if due regard be paid to what things are possible, there
is the same perfection in the observance although the power may be unequal.

' The reference is to Basil's opoi Kara TrAavo? (the greater monastic rules), and opot Kara. iirtTonriv (the lesser rules), written in the form
of answers to questions of the monks. Jerome translated the rule of Pachomius, besides writing the lives of the hermits Paul, Malchus,
and Hilarion.

' m veritate. Another reading-is veritatent.

THE TWELVE BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN

ON THE

INSTITUTES OF THE COENOBIA,

AND THE

REA1EDIES FOR THE EIGHT PRINCIPAL FAULTS.

BOOK L

OF THE DRESS OF THE MONKS.

CHAPTER L

Of the Monk's Girdle.

As we are going to speak of the customs and
rules of the monasteries, how by God's grace
can we better begin than with the actual dress
of the monks, for we shall then be able to ex-
pound in due course their interior life when we
have set their outward man 'before your eyes.
A monk, then, as a soldier of Christ ever ready
for battle, ought always to walk with his loins
girded. For in this fashion, too, the authority
of Holy Scripture shows that they walked who
in the Old Testament started the original of
this life, — I mean Elijah and Elisha; and,
moreover, we know that the leaders and auth-
ors of the New Testament, viz., John, Peter,
and Paul, and the others of the same rank,
walked in the same manner. And of these
the first-mentioned, who even in the Old Tes-
tament displayed the flowers of a virgin life
and an example of chastity and continence,
when he had been sent by the Lord to rebuke
the messengers of Ahaziah, the wicked king of
Israel, because when confined by sickness he
had intended to consult Beelzebub, the god of
Ekron, on the state of his health, and there-
upon the said prophet had met them and said
that he should not come down from the bed
on which he lay, — this man was made known
to the bed-ridden king by the description of
the character of his clothing. For when the

messengers returned to him and brought back
the prophet's message, he asked what the man
who had met them and spoken such words was
like and how he was dressed. " An hairy man,"
they said, "and girt with a girdle of leather
about his loins;" and by this dress the king
at once saw that it was the man of God, and
said: "It is Elijah the Tishbite:"^ i.e., by
the evidence of the girdle and the look of the
hairy and unkempt body he recognized with-
out the slightest doubt the man of God, be-
cause this was always attached to him as he
dwelt among so many thousands of Israelites,
as if it were impressed as some special sign of
his own particular style. Of John also, who
came as a sort of sacred boundary between the
Old and New Testament, being both a begin-
ning and an ending, we know by the testimony
of the Evangelist that "the same John had his
raiment of camel's hair and a girdle of skin
about his loins." ^ When Peter also had been
put in prison by Herod and was to be brought
forth to be slain on the next day, when the
angel stood by him he was charged : " Gird
thyself and put on thy shoes." ^ And the angel
of the Lord would certainly not have charged
him to do this had he not seen that for the sake
of his night's rest he had for awhile freed his
wearied limbs from the girdle usually tied
round them. Paul also, going up to Jerusalem
and soon to be put in chains by the Jews, was
met at Ccesarea by the prophet Agabus, who
took his girdle and bound his hands and feet

' Cf . Basil's Greater Monastic Rules, Q. xxii., from which a con-
siderable portion of this chapter is taken.

1 2 Kings i. i.-S.

J S. Matt. iii. 4.

3 Acts xii. 8.

201

202

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

to show by his bodily actions the injuries which
he was to suffer, and said: ''So shall the Jews
in Jerusalem bind the man whose girdle this is,
and deliver him into the hands of the Gen-
tiles."^ And surely the prophet would never
have brought this forward, or have said "the
man whose girdle this is," unless PauJ had
always been accustomed to fasten it round his
loins.

CHAPTER IT.

Of the Monk's Robe.

Let the robe also of the monk be such as
may merely cover the body and prevent the
disgrace of nudity, and keep off harm from
cold, not such as may foster the seeds of vanity
and pride ; for the same apostle tells us : " Hav-
ing food and covering, with these let us be con-
tent." " '"Covering," he says, not "raiment,"
as is wrongly found in some Latin copies:
that is, what fnay merely cover the body, not
what may please the fancy by the splendour of
the attire ; commonplace, so that it may not be
thought remarkable for novelty of colour or
fashion among other men of the same profes-
sion; and quite free from anxious carefulness,
yet not discoloured by stains acquired through
neglect. Lastly, let them be so far removed
from this world's fashions as to remain alto-
gether common property for the use of the
servants of God. For whatever is claimed by
one or a few among the servants of God and is
not the common property of the whole body of
the brethren alike is either superfluous or vain,
and for that reason to be considered harmful,
and affording an appearance of vanity rather
than virtue. And, therefore, whatever models
we see were not taught either by the saints of
old who laid the foundations of the monastic
life, or by the fathers of our own time who in
their turn keep up at the present day their
customs, these we also should reject as super-
fluous and useless : wherefore they utterly dis-
approved of a robe of sackcloth as being
visible to all and conspicuous, and what from
this very fact will not only confer no benefit
on the soul but rather minister to vanity and
pride, and as being inconvenient and unsuit-
able for the performance of necessary work for
which a monk ought always to go ready and
unimpeded. But even if we hear of some re-
spectable persons who have been dressed in

' Acts xxi. II.

' I Tim. vi. 8, The Greek is <rKtira(TiJLaTa, for which Jerome's
version h.is " quibus tegamur." Sabbatier gives "victumet vesti-
tum " as the rendering of the old Latin, but it is often quoted as
" victus et tegumentum " by Augustine. " Alimcnta et openmenta "
must be Cassian's own rendering from the Greek. " Vestimenta,"
which he speaks of as being found in «ome Latin copies, is not given
by Sabbatier at all, though Jerome quotes the text with " vestiraen-
tum " in Ep. ad Titum, III.

this garb, a rule for the monasteries is not,
therefore, to be passed by us, nor should the
ancient decrees of the holy fathers be upset
because we do not think that a few men, pre-
suming on the possession of other virtues, are
to be blamed even in regard of those things
which they have practised not in accordance
with the Catholic rule. For the opinion of a
few ought not to be preferred to or to interfere
with the general rule for all. For we ought

give

unhesitating;

allegiance

and

unques-

tioning obedience, not to those customs and
rules which the will of a few have intro-
duced, but to those which a long standing
antiquity and numbers of the holy fathers have
passed on by an unanimous decision to those
that come after. Nor, indeed, ought this to
influence us as a precedent for our daily life,
that Joram, the wicked king of Israel, when
surrounded by bands of his foes, rent his
clothes, and is said to have had sackcloth in-
side them ; ^ or that the Ninevites, in order to
mitigate the sentence of God, which had been
pronounced against them by the prophet, were
clothed in rough sackcloth,^ The former is
shown to have been clothed with it secretly
underneath, so that unless the upper garment
had been rent it could not possibly have been
known by any one, and the latter tolerated a
covering of sackcloth at a time when, since all
were mourning over the approaching destruc-
tion of the city and were clothed with the same
garments, none could be accused of ostenta-
tion. For where there is no special difference
and all are alike no harm is done.^

CHAPTER IIL

Of the Hoods of the Egyptians.

There are some things besides in the dress
of the Egyptians which concern not the care
of the body so much as the regulation of the
character, tltat the observance of simplicity and
innocence may be preserved by the very char-
acter of the clothing. For they constantly use
both by day and by night very small hoods
coming down to the end of the neck and
shoulders, which only cover the head, in order
that they may constantly be moved to pre-
' serve the simplicity and innocence of little
children by imitating their actual dress.® And

3 2 Kings vi. 30. ■■ Jonah iii. S.

'' Quia nisi insolens sit diversitas. non ofEendit asqualitas (Petsche-
nig). The text of Gaz.-cns has ina^qualiias.

'' The hood, or cowl (cuculla), was anciently worn by children and
peasants, and thus was said to symbolize humility. Compare the
account of the Egyptian monks given by Snzomen. ///i^. III. xiv.:
"They wore a covering on their heads called a cowl, to show that
they ought to live with the same innocence and purity as infants who
are nourished with milk and wear a covering of the same form."

BOOK I.

these men have returned to childhood in Christ
and sing at all hours with heart and soul:
" Lord, my heart is not exalted nor are mine
eyes lofty. Neither have I walked in great
matters nor in wonderful things above me. If
I was not humbly minded, but exalted my
soul : as a child that is weaned is towards his
mother. " ^

CHAPTER IV.

Of the Tunics of the Egyptians.

Thev wear also linen tunics ^ which scarcely
reach to the elbows, and for the rest leave their
hands bare, that the cutting off of the sleeves
may suggest that they have cut off all the deeds
and works of this world, and the garment of
linen teach that they are dead to all earthly
conversation, and that hereby they may hear
the Apostle saying day by day to them : " Mor-
tify your members which are upon the earth ;"
their very dress also declaring this: '' For ye
are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in
God;'' and again: "And I live, yet now not I
but Christ liveth in me. To me indeed the
world is crucified, and I to the world. "^

CHAPTER V.

Of their Cords.*

They also wear double scarves ^ woven of
woollen yarn which the Greeks call dvahtSoi,
but which we should name girdles ® or strings,''
or more properly cords.* These falling down
over the top of the neck and divided on either
side of the throat go round the folds (of the
robe) at the armpits and gather them up on
either side, so that they can draw up and tuck
in close to the body the wide folds of the dress,
and so with their arms girt they are made active
and ready for all kinds of work, endeavouring
with all their might to fulfil the Apostle's
charge : " For these hands have ministered not
only to me but to those also who are with me,"
" Neither have we eaten any man's bread for

1 Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) I, 2.

2 Colobiiim (KoA63ior), a tunic with very short sleeves. Cf. Doro-
theus (Mi°;ne, Patrol. Grjeca Ixxxviii. 1631). To (rxvtJ-a. o (^opoOncv

Kal KOVKOvXlOV'

' Col. iii. 5, 3. Gal. ii. 20; vi. 14. Cf. Sozomen 1. c. : "They
wore their tunics without sleeves in order to teach that the hands
ought not to be ready to do evil."

♦ Rebracchiatoria. The whole passage is somewhat obscure, and
the various synonyms do not help us much in the elucidation of it.
"AraAa/Soi is given in Petschenig's text, but ai'a^oAoi has some MS.
authority. ' Xua^oXev^ is the word used by Sozomen, who also men-
tions this cord. " Their girdle also and cord, the former girding the
loins, the latter going round the shoulders and arms, admonish them
that they ought always to be ready for the service of God and their
work."

^ Resticulae. ^ Succinctoria.

' Redimicula. * Rebracchiatoria.

nought, but with labour and toil working night
and day that we should not be burdensome to
any of you." And: "If any will not work
neither let him eat."^

CHAPTER VI.

Of their Capes.w

Next they cover their necks and shoulders
with a narrow cape, aiming at modesty of dress
as well as cheapness and economy; and this
is called in our language as well as theirs
majors \ and so they avoid both the expense
and the display of cloaks and great coats.

CHAPTER VII.

Of the Sheepskin and the Goatskin.U

The last article of their dress is the goat-
skin, which is called vielotes^ ox pera,^^ znd a
staff, which they carry in imitation of those
who foreshadowed the lines of the monastic
life in the Old Testament, of whom the Apostle
says: "They wandered about in sheepskins
and goatskins, being in want, distressed, af-
flicted; of whom the world. was not worthy;
wandering in deserts, and in mountains, and
in dens, and in caves of the earth." ^^ And this
garment of goatskin signifies that having de-
stroyed all wantonness of carnal passions they
ought to continue in the utmost sobriety of
virtue, and that nothing of the wantonness or
heat of youth, or of their old lightmindedness,
should remain in their bodies.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the Staff of the Egyptians.

For Elisha, himself one of them, teaches
that the same men used to carry a staff; as he
says to Gehazi, his servant, when sending him
to raise the woman's son to life: "Take my
staff and run and go and place it on the lad's
face that he may live."" And the prophet

3 Acts XX. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 8, 10.

1" The mafors ( ii.aiinlipi.ov or ixaiiiopLov) is the monkish scapular,
or working-dress. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. 55 : " Scapulare
propter opera." In form it was a large, coarse cape, or hood.

11 The melotes (laTjAtoT))?), a sheepskin garment hanging down on
one side, was the usual dress of monks. S. Anthony bequeathed his,
at his death, to S. Athanasius. Ath. Vita Anton, 91.

'2 Pera can hardly be used herein its ordinary sense of scrip or wallet
rv-qpa.. Gazseus suggests that it may be a transcriber's error for pce-
nula, while Ducange would read, " quae melotes appellatur, vel pera,
et baculus." Mr. Sinker, in the Dictionary of Christian Antiqui-
ties (Vol. H. p. 1619), suggests that possibly the word may be Egyp-
tian.

13 Heb. xi.37, 38.

" 2 Kings iv. 29.

204

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

would certainly not have given it to him to
take unless he had been in the habit of con-
stantly carrying it about in his hand. And the
carrying of the staff spiritually teaches that
they ought never to walk unarmed among so
many barking dogs of faults and invisible
beasts of spiritual wickedness (from which the
blessed David, in his longing to be free, says:
" Deliver not, O Lord, to the beasts the soul
that trusteth in Thee "),^ but when they attack
them they ought to beat them off with the sign
of the cross and drive them far away; and
when they rage furiously against them they
should annihilate them by the constant recol-
lection of the Lord's passion and by follow-
ing the example of His mortified life.

CHAPTER IX.

Of their Shoes.

But refusing shoes, as forbidden bv the
command of the gospel, if bodily weakness or
the morning cold in winter or the scorching
heat of midday compels them, they merely
protect their feet with sandals, explaining that
by the use of them and the Lord's permission
it is implied that if, while we are still in this
world we cannot be completely set free from
care and anxiety about the flesh, nor can we be
altogether released from it, we should at least 1
provide for the wants of the body with as little
fuss and as slight an entanglement as possible :
and as for the feet of our soul which ought to
be ready for our spiritual race and always
prepared for preaching the peace of the gos-
pel (with which feet we run after the odour of
the ointments of Christ, and of which David
says: "I ran in thirst," and Jeremiah: "But I
am not troubled, following Thee"),^ we ought
not to suffer them to be entangled in the deadly
cares of this world, filling our thoughts with
those things which concern not the supply of
the wants of nature, but unnecessary and harm-
ful pleasures. And this we shall thus fulfil
if, as the Apostle advises, we " make not pro-
vision for the flesh with its lusts." ^ But
though lawfully enough they make use of these
sandals, as permitted by the Lord's command,
yet they never suffer them to remain on their
feet when they approach to celebrate or to
receive the holy mysteries, as they think that
they ought to observe in the letter that which
was said to Moses and to Joshua, the son of
Nun : " Loose the latchet of thy slioe : for the
place whereon thou standest is holy ground. '' *

CHAPTER X.

Of the modification in the observances which may be per-
mitted in accordance with the character of the climate or the
custom of tlie district.

So much may be said, that we may not ap-
pear to have left out any article of the dress
of the Egyptians. But we need only keep to
those which the situation of the place and the
customs of the district permit. For the severity
of the winter does not allow us to be satisfied
with slippers ® or tunics or a single frock; and
the covering of tiny hoods or the wearing of a
sheepskin would afford a subject for derision
instead of edifying the spectators. Wherefore
we hold that we ought to introduce only those
things which we have described above, and
which ,are adapted to the humble character of
our profession and the nature of the climate,
that the chief thing about our dress maybe not
the novelty of the garb, which might give some
offence to men of the world, but its honourable
simplicity.

CHAPTER XL

Of the Spiritual Girdle and its Mystical Meaning^

Clad, therefore, in these vestments, the sol-
dier of Christ should knoAV first of all that he
is protected by the girdle tied round him, not
only that he may be ready in mind for all the
work and business of the monastery, but also
that he may always go without being hindered
by his dress. For he will be proved to be the
more ardent in purity of heart for spiritual
progress and the knowledge of Divine things
in proportion as he is the more earnest in his
zeal for obedience and work. Secondly, he
should realize that in the actual wearing of the
girdle there is no small mystery declaring
what is demanded of him. For the girding of
the loins and binding them round with a dead
skin signifies that he bears about the mortifi-
cation of those members in which are contained
the seeds of lust and lasciviousness, always
knowing that the command of the gospel, which
says, "Let your loins be girt about,'"** is applied
to him by the Apostle's interpretation; to wit,
"Mortify your members which are upon the
earth; fornication, uncleanness, lust, evil con-
cupiscence."^ And so we find in Holy Scrip-
ture that only those were girt with the girdle
in whom the seeds of carnal lust are found to

^ Ps. Ixxiii. (Ixxiv.) ig.

^ Ps. Ixi. (Ixii.) 5; Jer. xvii. 16 (Ixx.)

* Roin. xiii. 14.

* Exod. iii. 5 ; Josh. v. 16.

" This and the following chapter are altogether omitted in the
edition of Gazaus.
'• Gallica.
' Sacrainentiim.
6 S. Luke xii. 35.
" Col. iii. 5.

BOOK II.

205

be destroyed, and who sing with might and
main this utterance of the blessed David : " For
I am become like a bottle in the frost,'" ^ be-
cause when the sinful flesh is destroyed in the
inmost parts they can distend by the power of
the spirit the dead skin of the outward man.
And therefore he significantly adds "in the
frost," because they are never satisfied merely
with the mortification of the heart, but also
have the motions of the outward man and the
incentives of nature itself frozen by the ap-

* Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 83.

proach of the frost of continence from without,
if only, as the Apostle says, they no longer
allow any reign of sin in their mortal body,
nor wear a flesh that resists the spirit." -

2 Cf. Rom. vi. 12 ; Gal. v. 17. S. Benedict's rule about the dress
of the monks is as follows : " Lat the dress of the brethren be adapted
to the character of the place or climate in which they live, as more
clothing is required in cold than in hot countries. Hence we leave
this to the abbot to determine. However, in temperate climates we
are of opinion that it will be enough for each monk to have a hood
and a frock, a rough one for the winter, and in the summer a simple
or old one ; a scapular also for work ; and the covering of the feet,
shoes and socks. And the monks are not to complain of the colour
or size of these articles, but to be satisfied with whatever can be found
or got cheapest in the country where they live." Regula S. Bened.
c. Iv.

BOOK II.

OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE NOCTURNAL
PRAYERS AND FSALMS.

CHAPTER I.

Of the Canonical System of the Nocturnal Prayers and Psalms.

Girt, therefore, with this twofold girdle of
which v/e have spoken,^ the soldier of Christ
should next learn the system of the canonical
prayers and Psalms which was long ago ar-
ranged by the holy fathers in the East. Of
their character, however, and of the way in
which we can pray, as the Apostle directs,
"without ceasing," * we shall treat, as the Lord
may enable us, in the proper place, when we
begin to relate the Conferences of the Elders.

CHAPTER II.

Of the difference of the number of Psalms appointed to be
sung in all the provinces.

For we have found that many in difi'erent
countries, according to the fancy of their mind
(having, indeed, as the Apostle says, "a zeal
for God but not according to knowledge" ^),
have made for themselves different rules and
arransrements in this matter. For some have
appointed that each night twenty or thirty
Psalms should be said, and that these should
be prolonged by the music of antiphonal sing-
ing,® and by the addition of some modulations

3 See Book I. c. xi.

* I Thess. V. 17.

'■ Rom. X. 2.

fi Antiphona. In this passage the word appears to mean the act-
ual Psalms sung antiphonally, rather than what is generally meant in
later writings by the term. Cf. the Rule of Aurelian, " Dicite ma-
tutinarios, i.e., prime canticum in antiphona, deinde directaneum,
judica me Deus ... in antiphona dicite hymnum, splendor pa-
tudae gloriae." And see the use of the word later on by Cassian him-
self, c. vii.

as well. Others have even tried to go beyond
this number. Some use eighteen. And in
this way we have found different rules ap-
pointed in different places, and the system
and regulations that we have seen are almost
as many in number as the monasteries and
cells which we have visited. There are some,
too, to whom it has seemed good that in the
day offices of prayer, viz.. Tierce, Sext, and.
Nones,'' the number of Psalms and prayers
should be made to correspond exactly to the
number of the hours at which the services are
offered up to the Lord.^ Some have thought
fit that six Psalms should be assigned to each
service of the day. And so I think it best to
set forth the most ancient system of the fathers
which is still observed by the servants of God
throughout the whole of Egypt, so that your
new monastery in its untrained infancy in
Christ^ maybe instructed in the most ancient
institutions of the earliest fathers.

CHAPTER III.

Of the observance of one uniform rule throughout the whole
of Egypt, and of the election of those who are set over the
brethren.

And so throughout the whole of Egypt and
the Thebaid, where monasteries are not found-
ed at the fancy of every man who renounces

' The third, sixth, and ninth hours were observed as hours of
prayer from the earliest days. Cf. Tertullian De Oratione, c. 25 ;
Clem. Alex. Stromata, VII., c. 7, § 40.

' I.e., that at Tierce there should be three Psalms, at Sext six,
and at Nones nine.

» Castor had founded a monastery about the year 420.

206

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

the world, but through a succession of fathers
and their traditions last even to the present
day, or are founded so to last, in these we have
noticed that a prescribed system of prayers is
observed in their evening assemblies and noc-
turnal vigils. For no one is allowed to preside
over the assembly of the brethren, or even over
himself, before he has not only deprived him-
self of all his property but has also learnt the
fact that he is not his own maker and has no
authority over his own actions. For one who
renounces the world, whatever property or
riches he may possess, must seek the common
dwelling of a Coenobium, that he may not
flatter himself in any way with what he has
forsaken or what he has brought into the mon-
astery. He must also be obedient to all, so as
to learn that he must, as the Lord says, ^ be-
come again a little child, arrogating nothing to
himself on the score of his age and the number
of the years which he now counts as lost while
they were spent to no purpose in the world;
and, as he is only a beginner, and because
of the novelty of the apprenticeship, which he
knows he is serving in Christ's service, he
should not hesitate to submit himself even to
his juniors. Further, he is obliged to habit-
uate himself to work and toil, so as to prepare
v.-ith his own hands, in accordance with the
Apostle's command,^ a daily supply of food,
either for his own use or for the wants of
strangers ; and that he may also forget the pride
and luxury of his past life, and gain by grind-
ing toil humility of heart. And so no one is
chosen to be set over a congregation of breth-
ren before that he who is to be placed in author-
ity has learnt by obedience what he ought to
enjoin on those who are to submit to him, and
has discovered from the rules of the Elders
what he ought to teach to his juniors. For
they say that to rule or to be ruled well needs
a wise man, and they call it the greatest gift
and grace of the Holy Spirit, since no one
can enjoin salutary precepts on those who
submit to him but one who has previously
been trained in all the rules of virtue; nor can
any one obey an Elder but one who has been
filled with the love of God and perfected in
the virtue of humility. And so we see that
there is a variety of rules and regulations in
use throughout other districts, because we
often have the audacity to preside over a mon-
astery without even having learnt the system
of the Elders, and appoint ourselves Abbots
before we have, as we ought, professed our-
selves disciples, and are readier to require the
observance of our own inventions than to pre-
serve the well-tried teaching of our predeces-

1 Cf. S. Matt, xviii. 3.
^ Cf. I Thess. iv. 11.

sors. But, while we meant to explain the best
system of prayers to be observed, we have in
our eagerness for the institutions of the fathers
anticipated by a hasty digression the account
which we were keeping back for its proper
place. And so let us now return to the subject
before us.

CHAPTER IV.

How throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the
number of Psalms is fixed at twelve.

So, as we said, throughout the whole of
Egypt and the Thebaid the number of Psalms
is fixed at twelve both at Vespers and in the
office of Nocturns,^ in such a way that at the
close two lessons follow, one from the Old and
the other from the New Testament. * And this
arrangement, fixed ever so long ago, has con-
tinued unbroken to the present day throughout
so many ages, in all the monasteries of "those
districts, because it is said that it was no ap-
pointment of man's invention, but was brought
down from heaven to the fathers by the minis-
try of an angel.

CHAPTER V.

How the fact that the number of the Psalms was to be twelve
was received from the teaching of an angel.

For in the early days of the faith when
only a few, and those the best of men, were
known by the name of monks, who, as they
received that mode of life from the Evangelist
Mark of blessed memory, the first to preside
over the Church of Alexandria as Bishop, not
only preserved those grand characteristics for
which we read, in the Acts of the Apostles,
that the Church and multitude of believers in
primitive times was famous ("The multitude
of believers had one heart and one soul. Nor
did any of them say that any of the things
which he possessed was his own : but they
had all things common; for as many as were
owners of lands or houses sold them, and
brought the price of the things which they sold,
and laid it at the feet of the Apostles, and
distribution was made to every man as he had
need"j,'^ but they added to these characteristics
others still more sublime. For withdrawing
into more secluded spots outside the cities they
led a life marked by such rigorous abstinence

' The rule of Ca;s.irius also prescribes twelve Psalms on every
Sabbath. Lord's day, and festival (c. 25); so also, according: to the
Benedictine rule, there are twelve Psalms at mattins, besid'js the fixed
ones, iii. and xcy. (see c. q and 10), as there are still in the Roman
Breviary on ordinary week-days.

* The custom of liaving two lessons only appears to have been
peculiar to Egypt. Most of the early Western rules give three, e.g.,
those of Cajsarius and Benedict, while in the Eastern daily offices
there are no lections from Holy Scripture.

^ Acts iv. 32-34.

BOOK II.

207

that even to those of another creed the exalted
character of their life was a standing marvel.
For they gave themselves up to the reading of
Holy Scripture and to prayers and to manual
labour night and day with such fervour that
they had no desire or thoughts of food — un-
less on the second or third day bodily hunger '
reminded them, and they took their meat and
drink not so much because they wished for it
as because it was necessary for life; and even
then they took it not before sunset, in order
that they might connect the hours of daylight
with the practice of spiritual meditations, and
the care of the body with the night, and might
perform other things much more exalted than
these. And about these matters, one who has
never heard anything from one who is at home
in such things, may learn from eccresiastical
history.^ At that time, therefore, when the
perfection of the primitive Church remained
unbroken, and was still preserved fresh in the
memory by their followers and successors, and
when the fervent faith of the few had not yet
grown lukewarm by being dispersed among the
many, the venerable fathers with watchful care
made provision for those to come after them,
and met together to discuss what plan should
be adopted for the daily worship throughout
the whole body of the brethren; that they
might hand on to those who should succeed
them a legacy of piety and peace that was free
from all dispute and dissension, for they were
afraid that in regard of the daily services some
difference or dispute might arise among those
who joined together in the same worship, and
at some time or other it might send forth a
poisonous root of error or jealousy or schism
among those who came after. And when each
man in proportion to his own fervour — and
unmindful of the weakness of others — thought
that that should be appointed which he judged
was quite easy by considering his own faith
and strength, taking too little account of what
would be possible for the great mass of the
brethren in general (wherein a very large pro-
portion of weak ones is sure to be found) ; and
when in different degrees they strove, each
according to his own powers, to fix an enor-
mous number of Psalms, and some were for
fifty, others sixty, and some, not content with
this number, thought that they actually ought
to go beyond it, — there was such a holy differ-
ence of opinion in their pious discussion on
the rule of their religion that the time for their
Vesper office came before the sacred question
was decided; and, as they were going to cele-
brate their daily rites and prayers, one rose

' Petsclieiiig's text has inedia, others inediam.

* Cf.Eusebius, Book II.c.xv., xvi. Sozomen, Book I. c. xii., xiii.

up in the midst to chant the Psalms to the
Lord. And while they were all sitting (as is
still the custom in Egypt'''), with their minds
intently fixed on the words of the chanter,
when he had sung eleven Psalms, separated by
prayers introduced between them, verse after
verse being evenly enunciated,^ he finished
the twelfth with a response of Alleluia,^ and
then, by his sudden disappearance from the
eyes of all, put an end at once to their dis-
cussion and their service.*^

CHAPTER VI.

Of the Custom of having Twelve Prayers.

Whereupon the venerable assembly of the
Fathers understood that by Divine Providence
a general rule had been fixed for the congre-
gations of the brethren through the angel's
direction, and so decreed that this number
should be preserved both in their evening and
in their nocturnal services; and when they
added to these two lessons, one from the Old
and one from the New Testament, they added
them simply as extras and of their own ap-
pointment, only for those who liked, and who
were eager to gain by constant study a mind
well stored with Holy Scripture. But on
Saturday and Sunday they read them both
from the New Testament; viz., one from the
Epistles'' or the Acts of the Apostles, and one
from the Gospel.* And this also those do
whose concern is the reading and the recollec-
tion of the Scriptures, from Easter to Whit-
suntide.®

CHAPTER VII.

Of their Method of Praying.

These aforesaid prayers, then, they begin
and finish in such a way that when the Psalm is
ended they do not hurry at once to kneel down,
as some of us do in this country, who, before

' Cf. below, c. xii.

* Cumque . . . undecim Psalmos orationum interjectione dis-
tinctos contiguis versibus parili pronuiiciatione cantassat.

5 So, according to the Benedictine rule, the Psalms at mattins are
ended with ."Mleluia (c. ix.): "After these three lessons with their
responds there shall follow the remaining six Psalms with the
Alleluia." Cf. c. xi. and xv.

''• This story is referred to in the Eighteenth Canon of the Second
Council nf Tours, a.d. 567. " The statutes of the Fathers have pre-
scribed that twelve Psalms be said at the Twelfth (i.e., Vespers), with
Alleluia, which, moreover, they learnt from theshowing of an angel."

■' Apostolus, the regular name for the book of the Epistles.

' Ci. the note above on c. v.

^ Totis Quinquagessimo! diebus; i.e., the whole period of fifty days
between Ea.ster and Whitsuntide (cf. c. xviii. ancl the Conferences
XXI. viii., xi., xx.). This is the usual meaning of the term Pentecost
in early writers, though it is also used more strictly for the actual fes-
tival of Whitsunday. Cf. the Twentieth Canon of the Council of
Nica;a, and see Canon Briglit's Notes on the Canons, p. 72, for other
instances.

2o8

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

the Psalm is fairly ended, make haste to pro-
strate themselves for prayer, in their hurry to
finish the service ^ as quickly as possible.
For though we have chosen to exceed the limit
which was anciently fixed by our predecessors,
supplying the number of the remaining Psalms,
we are anxious to get to the end of the ser-
vice, thinking of the refreshment of the wearied
body rather than looking for profit and benefit
from the prayer. Among them, therefore, it is
not so, but before they bend their knees they
pray for a few moments, and while they are
standing up spend the greater part of the time
in prayer. And so after this, for the briefest
space of time, they prostrate themselves to the
ground, as if but adoring the Divine Mercy,
and as soon as possible rise up, and again
standing erect with outspread hands — just as
they had been standing to pray before — re-
main with thoughts intent upon their prayers.
For when you lie prostrate for any length of
time upon the ground you are more open to
an attack, they say, not only of wandering
thoughts but also of slumber. And would that
we too did not know the truth of this by experi-
ence and daily practice — we who when pros-
trating ourselves on the ground too often wish
for this attitude to be prolonged for some time,
not for the sake of our prayer so much as for
the sake of resting. But when he who is to
"collect " the prayer^ rises from the ground
they all start up at once, so that no one would
venture to bend the knee before he bows down,
nor to delay when he has risen from the
ground, lest it should be thought that he has
offered his own prayer independently instead
of following the leader to the close.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the Prayer which foljows the Psalm.

That practice too which we have observed
in this country — viz., that while one sings to
the end of the Psalm, all standing up sing
together with a loud voice, "Glory be to the
Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost "
— we have never heard anywhere throughout
the East, but there, while all keep silence when

' Ad celeritatem misscg. The word " missa " is here used for the
breaking up of the congregation after service, as it is again in Hook
III. c. vii., where Cassian says that one who came late for prayer
had to wait, standing before the door, for the " missa " of the whole
assembly. Cf. 111. c. viii., "post vigiliarum missam," and the rule
of S. Benedict (c. xvii.): "After the tliree Psalms are finished, let
one lesson be read, a verse, and Kyrie Eleison : et fnissarfiant" A
full account of the various meanings given to the word will be found
in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. II. p. ii()3 sq.

^ Colligere orationetn. The phrase corresponds to the Greek
(Tvyan-Teii', but Ducange gives but few instances of its use in Latin.
It is found, however, in Canon xxx. of the Council of Agde. " Plebs
coUecta oratione ad vesperam ab Episcopo cum benedictione diinit-
tatur."

the Psalm is finished, the prayer that follows
is offered up by the singer. But with this
hymn in honour of the Trinity only the whole
Psalmody ^ is usually ended.*

CHAPTER IX. ^

Of the characteristics of the prayer, the fuller treatment of
which is reserved for the Conferences of the Elders.

And as the plan of these Institutes leads us
to the system of the canonical prayers, the
fuller treatment of which we will however
reserve for the Conferences of the Eldersfwhere
we shall speak of them at greater length when
we have begun to tell in their own words of the
characterT)f their prayers, and how continuous
they are), still I think it well, as far as the place
and my narrative permit, as the occasion offers
itself, to glance briefly for the present at a few
points, so that by picturing in the meanwhile
the movements of the outer man, and by now
laying the foundations, as it were, of the prayer,
we may afterwards, when we come to speak of
the inner man, with less labour build up the
complete edifice of his prayers; providing,
above all for this, that if the end of life should
overtake us and cut us oft" from finishing the
narration which we are anxious (D.V.) fitly
to compose, we may at least leave in this work
the beginnings of so necessary a matter to you,
to whom everything seems a delay, by reason
of the fervour of your desire : so that, if a
few more years of life are granted to us, we
may at least mark out for you some outlines
of their prayers, that those above all who live
in monasteries may have some information
about them; providing also, at the same time,
that those who perhaps may meet only with
this book, and be unable to procure the other,
may find that they are supplied with some sort
of information about the nature of their
prayers ; and as they are instructed about the
dress and clothing of the outer man, so too
they may not be ignorant what his behaviour
ought to be in offering spiritual sacrifices.

2 Antiphona. The word must certainly be used here not in the
later sense of "antiplion," but as descriptive of the whole of the
Psalmody of the office. Cf. note on c. i.

* In the Eastern offices the Psalter is divided into twenty sections
called KaSicTfiara, each of which is subdivided into three crracf i?, at
the close of each of which the Gloria is said, and not, as in the West,
after every Psalm. This Western custom which Cassian here notices
seems to have originated in Gaul, and thence spread to other churches,
as, according to Walafrid Strabo, at Rome it was used but rarely
after the Psalms in the ninth century. See Walafrid Strabo, c.
XXV. ap. Hittorp. 68S. The earliest certain indications of the use
of the hymn itself are found in the fourth century. See S. Rasil,
De Spiritu Saticto, c. xxix. ; Theodoret, Eccl. Hist., II. xxiv.; So-
zomen, Eccl. Hist., III. xx. The Greek form is Aofo Trarpl xal
utw" Kai a-yt'cij Trreu/utari #fat vvv *cai afi koli tl? TOU? aiZiVo.<i ruiv
cLiuiVMv, an-qf. The additional words in use in the West, " sicut
erat in principio," were first adopted in the sixth century, being
ordered by the Council of Vaison, a.d. 529, "after the example of
the apostolic see."

BOOK II.

209

Since, though these books, which we are now
arranging with the Lord's help to write, are
mainly taken up with what belongs to the outer
man and the customs of the Ccenobia, yet
those will rather be concerned with the training
of the inner man and the perfection of the
heart, and the life and doctrine of the An-
chorites.

CHAPTER X.

Of the silence and conciseness with whicli the Collects are
offered up by the Egyptians.

Whex, then, they meet together to celebrate
the aforementioned rites, which they term
synaxes,'^ they are all so perfectly silent that,
though so large a number of the brethren is
assembled together, you would not think a
single person was present except the one who
stands up and chants the Psalm in the midst;
and especially is this the case when the prayer
is offered up,- for then there is no spitting, no
clearing of the throat, or noise of coughing, no
sleepy yawning with open mouths, and gaping,
and no groans or sighs are uttered, likely to dis-
tract those standing near. No voice is heard
save that of the priest concluding the prayer, ex-
cept perhaps one that escapes the lips through
aberration of mind and unconsciously takes
the heart by surprise, inflamed as it is with
an uncontrollable and irrepressible fervour of
spirit, while that which the glowing mind is
unable to keep to itself strives through a sort
of unutterable groaning to make its escape
from the inmost chambers of the breast. But
if any one infected with coldness of mind prays
out loud or emits any of those sounds we have
mentioned, or is overcome by a fit of yawning,
they declare that he is guilty of a double fault.

He is blameworthy, first, as regards his own
prayer because he offers it to God in a careless
way; and, secondly, because by his unmannerly
noise he disturbs the thoughts of another who
would otherwise perhaps have been able to
pray with greater attention. And so their
rule is that the prayer ought to be brought to an
end with a speedy conclusion, lest while we are
lingering over it some superfluity of spittle or
phlegm should interfere with the close of our
prayer. And, therefore, while it is still glow-
ing the prayer is to be snatched as speedily
as possible out of the jaws of the enemy, who,
although he is indeed always hostile to us, is
yet never more hostile than when he sees that
we are anxious to offer up prayers to God
against his attacks; and by exciting wander-

' Synaxis (<ruva|is), a general name for the course of the ecclesi-
astical offices.

- C ontuminatur.

ing thoughts and all sorts of rheums he en-
deavours to distract our minds from attending
to our prayers, and by this moans tries to make
it grow cold, though begun with fervour.
Wherefore they think it best for the prayers to
be short and oft'ered up very frequently: ^ on
the one hand that by so often praying to the
Lord we may be able to cleave to Him contin-
ually; on the other, that when the devil is
lying in wait for us, we may by their terse
brevity avoid the darts with which he endeav-
ours to wound us especially when we are saying
our prayers.

CHAPTER XL

Of the system according to which the Psalms are said among
the Egyptians.

And, therefore, they do not even attempt to
finish the Psalms, which they sing in the ser-
vice, by an unbroken and continuous recita-
tion. But they repeat them separately and
bit by bit, divided into two or three sections,
according to the number of verses, with prayers
in between.* For they do not care about the
quantity of verses, but about the intelligence
of the mind; aiming with all their might at
this: *'I will sing with the spirit: I will sing
also with the understanding."^ And so they
consider it better for ten verses to be sung with
understanding and thought ^ than for a whole
Psalm to be poured forth with a bewildered
mind. And this is sometimes caused by the
hurry of the speaker, when, thinking of the
character and number of the remaining Psalms
to be sung, he takes no pains to make the
meaning clear to his hearers, but hastens on
to get to the end of the service. Lastly, if any
of the younger monks, either through fervour
of spirit or because he has not yet been properly

3 Cf. Augustine, if/, cxxx., § 20 (Vol. 11. 389): " Dicuntur
fratres in .^gypto crebras quidem habere oratioues, scd eas tainen
brevissimas, et raptim quodammodo jaculatas, ne ilia vigilantes
erecta, qua oranti plurimum necessaria est, per productiores moras
evanescat atque hebetetur intentio;" and Hooker, Eccl. Polity,
Book V. c. xxxiii. : " The brethren in Eg>'pt (saith S. Augustine) are
reported to have many prayers, but every of them very short, as i£
they were darts thrown out with a kind of sudden quickness, lest that
vigilant and erect attention of mind which in prayer is very necessary
should be wasted or dulled through continuance, if their prayers were
few and long. . . . Those prayers whereunto devout minds have
added a piercing kind of brevity, as well in that respect which we
have already mentioned, as also thereby the better to express that
quick and speedy expedition wherewith ardent affections, the very
wings of prayer, are delighted to present our suits in heaven, even
sooner than our tongues can devise to utter them," etc.

* This plan of dividing some of the longer Psalms (as is still done
with the 119th in the English Psalter) was adopted sometimes in the
West also. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. xyiii., and the 'J'hird
Council of Narbonne (a.d. 589), Canon 2 : " Ut in psallendis ordini-
bus per quemque Psalmum Gloria dicatur Omnipotent! Deo, per ma-
jores vero Psalmos, prout f uerint prolixius, pausationes fiant, et
per quamque pausationem Gloria Triniiaiis Domino decantetur."
Further, the rule that prayers should be intermingled with Psalms,
which was perhaps introduced into the West by Cassian, was widely
adopted both in Gaul and in Spain.

^ I Cor. xiv. 15.

0 Cum rationabili assignatione.

2IO

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

taught, goes beyond the proper limit of what is
to be sung, the one who is singing the Psalm is
stopped by the senior clapping his hands where
he sits in his stall, and making them all rise
for prayer. Thus they take every possible care
that no weariness may creep in among them
as they sit through the length of the Psalms,
as thereby not only would the singer himself
lose the fruits of understanding, but also loss
would be incurred by those whom he made to
feel the service a weariness by going on so long.
They also observe this with the greatest care;
viz., that no Psalm should be said with the
response of Alleluia except those which are
marked with the inscription of Alleluia in
their title. ^ But the aforesaid number of
twelve Psalms they divide in such a way that
if there are two brethren they each sing six;
if there are three, then four ; and if four, three
each. A smaller number than this they never
sing in the congregation, and accordingly,
however large a congregation is assembled,
not more than four brethren sing in the service.^

CHAPTER Xn.

Of the reason why while one sings the Psahns the rest sit
down during the service ; and of the zeal with which they
afterwards prolong their vigils in their cells till daybreak.

This canonical system of twelve Psalms, of
which we have spoken, they render easier by
such bodily rest that when, after their custom,
they celebrate these services, they all, except
the one who stands up in the midst to recite
the Psalms, sit in very low stalls and follow
the voice of the singer with the utmost attention
of heart. For they are so worn out with fasting
and working all day and night that, unless they
were helped by some such indulgence, they
could not possibly get through this number
standing up. For they allow no time to pass
idly without the performance of some work,
because not only do they strive with all earn-
estness to do with their hands those things
which can be done in daylight, but also with
anxious minds they examine into those sorts
of work which not even the darkness of night
can put a stop to, as they hold that they will
gain a far deeper insight into subjects of spir-
itual contemplation with purity of heart, the
more earnestly that they devote themselves to
work and labour. And therefore they consider
that a moderate allowance of canonical prayers
was divinely arranged in order that for those

1 viz.: Pss. civ., cv., cvi., ex., cxi., cxii., cxiii., cxiv., cxv.,
cxvi., cxvii..cxviii., cxxxiv., cxxxv., cxlv., cxlvi., cxlvii., cxlviii., cxlix.,
cl., in the LXX. and the Latin.

' This arrangement by which the Psalm was sung by a single
voice, while the rest of the congregation listened, is that which was
afterwards known bv the name of Tractus.

who are very ardent in faith room might be left
in which their never-tiring flow of virtue might
spend itself, and notwithstanding no loathing
arise in their wearied and weak bodies from
too large a quantity. And so, when the offices
of the canonical prayers have been duly fin-
ished, every one returns to his own cell (which
he inhabits alone, or is allowed to share with
only one other whom partnership in work or
training in discipleship and learning has
joined with him, or perhaps similarity of
character has made his companion), and again
they offer with greater earnestness the same
service of prayer, as their special private sacri-
fice, as it were ; nor do any of them give them-
selves up any further to rest and sleep till
when the brightness of day comes on the
labours of the day succeed the labours and
meditations of the nisfht.

CHAPTER XHI.

The reason why they are not allowed to go to sleep after the
night service.3

And these labours they keep up for two rea-
sons, besides this consideration, — that they
believe that when they are diligently exerting
themselves they are offering to God a sacrifice
of the fruit of their hands. And, if we are
aiming at perfection, we also ought to observe
this with the same diligence. First, lest our
envious adversary, jealous of our purity against
which he is always plotting, and ceaselessly
hostile to us, should by some illusion in a
dream pollute the purity which has been
gained by the Psalms and prayers of the night:
for after that satisfaction which we have offered
for our negligence and ignorance, and the
absolution implored with profuse sighs in our
confession, he anxiously tries, if he finds some
time given to repose, to defile us; then above
all endeavouring to overthrow and weaken our
trust in God when he sees by the purity of our
prayers that we are making most fervent efforts
towards God : so that sometimes, when he has
been unable to injure some the whole night
long, he does his utmost to disgrace them in
that short hour. Secondly, because, even if
no such dreaded illusion of the devil arises,
even a pure sleep in the interval produces
laziness in the case of the monk who ought
soon to wake up; and, bringing on a sluggish
torpor in the mind, it dulls his vigour through-
out the whole day, and deadens that keenness

2 Missa. The use of this word for the offices of the Canonical
Hours, though not common, is found also in the Thirtieth Canon of
the Council of Agde, a.d. 506. "At the end of the morning and
evening misscF. after the hymns, let the little chapters from the
Psalms be said."

BOOK II.

21 I

of perception and exhausts that energy ^ of
heart which would be capable of keeping us
all day long more watchful against all the
snares of the enemy and more robust. Where-
fore to the Canonical Vigils there are added
these private watchings, and they submit to
them with the greater care, both in order that
the purity which has been gained by Psalms
and prayers may not be lost, and also that a
more intense carefulness to guard us diligently
through the day may be secured beforehand
by the meditation of the night.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the way in which they devote themselves in their cells
equally to manual labour and to prayer.

And therefore they supplement their prayer
by the addition of labour, lest slumber might
steal upon them as idlers. For as they scarcely
enjoy any time of leisure, so there is no limit
put to their spiritual meditations. For prac-
tising equally the virtues of the body and of
the soul, they balance what is due to the outer
by what is profitable to the inner man f steady-
ing the slippery motions of the heart and the
shifting fluctuations of the thoughts by the
weight of labour, like some strong and im-
moveable anchor, by which the changeableness
and wanderings of the heart, fastened within
the barriers of the cell, may be shut up in some
perfectly secure harbour, and so, intent only on
spiritual meditation and watchfulness over the
thoughts, maynot only forbid the watchful mind
to give a hasty consent to any evil suggestions,
but may also keep it safe from any unnecessary
and idle thoughts : so that it is not easy to say
which depends on the other — I mean, whether
they practise their incessant manual labour for
the sake of spiritual meditation, or whether it
is for the sake of their continuous labours that
they acquire such remarkable spiritual profi-
ciency and light of knowledge.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the discreet rule by which every one must retire to his cell
after the close of the prayers ; and 3 of the rebuke to which
any one who does otherwise is subject.

And so, when the Psalms are finished, and
the daily assembly, as we said above, is broken
up, none of them dares to loiter ever so little
or to gossip with another: nor does he presume
even to leave his cell throughout the whole

* Pinguettido.

' Exterioris hominis siipendia cum entolutnentis interioris exa-
guant.

^ Post orationum ntissant. See note en c. vii.

day, or to forsake the work which he is wont
to carry on in it, except when they happen to
be called out for the performance of some
necessary duty, which they fulfil by going
out of doors so that there may not be any
chattering at all among them. But every one
does the work assigned to him in such a way
that, by repeating by heart some Psalm or
passage of Scripture, he gives no opportunity
or time for dangerous schemes or evil designs,
or even for idle talk, as both mouth and heart
are incessantly taken up with spiritual medita-
tions. For they are most particular in observ-
ing this rule, that none of them, and especially
of the younger ones, may be caught stopping
even for a moment or going anywhere together
with another, or holding his hands in his. But,
if they discover any who in defiance of the
discipline of this rule have perpetrated any of
these forbidden things, they pronounce them
guilty of no slight fault, as contumacious and
disobedient to the rules ; nor are they free from
suspicion of plotting and nefarious designs.
And, unless they expiate their fault by public
penance when all the brethren are gathered
together, none of them is allowed to be present
at the prayers of the brethren.

CHAPTER XVI.

How no one is allowed to pray with one who has been sus-
pended from prayer.

Further, if one of them has been suspended
from prayer for some fault which he has com-
mitted, no one has any liberty of praying with
him before he performs his penance on the
ground,* and reconciliation and pardon for his
offence has been publicly granted to him by
the Abbot before all the brethren. For by a
plan of this kind they separate and cut them-
selves off from fellowship with him in prayer
for this reason — because they believe that one
who is suspended from prayer is, as the Apostle
says, " delivered unto Satan :" ^ and if any one,
moved by an ill-considered affection, dares to
hold communion with him in prayer before
he has been received by the Elder, he makes
himself partaker of his damnation, and deliv-
ers himself up of his own free will to Satan, to
whom the other had been consigned for the
correction of his guilt. And in this he falls
into a more grievous offence because, by unit-
ing with him in fellowship either in talk or
in prayer, he gives him grounds for still greater
arrogance, and only encourages and makes
worse the obstinacy of the offender. For, by

* Cf. III. vii., and the description of this penance in IV. xvi.
^ I Cor. y. 5 ; I Tim. i. 20.

212

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

giving him a consolation that is only hurtful,
he will make his heart still harder, and not
let him humble himself for the fault for which
he was excommunicated ; and through this he
will make him hold the Elder's rebuke as of no
consequence, and harbour deceitful thoughts
about satisfaction and absolution.

CHAPTER XVII.

How he who rouses them for prayer ought to call them at
the usual time.

But he who has been entrusted with the
office of summoning the religious assembly and
with the care of the service should not presume
to rouse the brethren for their daily vigils
irregularly, as he pleases, or as he may wake
up in the night, or as the accident of his own
sleep or sleeplessness may incline him. But,
although daily habit may constrain him to
wake at the usual hour, yet by often and
anxiously ascertaining by the course of the
stars the right hour for service, he should
summon them to the office of prayer, lest he

be found careless in one of two ways: either
if, overcome with sleep, he lets the proper
hour of the night go by, or if, wanting to go
to bed and impatient for his sleep, he antici-
pates it, and so may be thought to have secured
his own repose instead of attending to the
spiritual office and the rest of all the others. '

CHAPTER XVIII.

How they do not kneel from the evening of Saturday till the
evening of Sunday.

This, too, we ought to know, — that from the
evening of Saturday which precedes the Sun-
day,'■^ up to the following evening, among the
Egyptians they never kneel, nor from Easter
to Whitsuntide;^ nor do they at these times
observe a rule of fasting,^ the reason for
which shall be explained in its proper place
in the Conferences of the Elders,^ if the Lord
permits. At present we only propose to run
through the causes very briefly, lest our book
exceed its due limits and prove tiresome or
' burdensome to the reader.

BOOK 111.

OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE DAILY PRAYERS AND PSALMS.

CHAPTER I.

Of the services of the third, sixth, and ninth hours, which are
observed in the regions of Syria.

The nocturnal system of prayers and Psalms
as observed throughout Egypt has been, I
think, by God's help, explained so far as our
slender ability was able; and now we must
speak of the services of Tierce, Sext, and
None, according to the rule of the monas-
teries of Palestine and Mesopotamia,® as we
said in the Preface, and must moderate by the
customs of these the perfection and inimitable
rigour of the discipline of the Egyptians.

^ The rule of S. Benedict is similarly careful that the brethren
may not oversleep themselves. See c. xi. and xlvii.

^ Qua: luccscit inin die dontinicutn. The phrase is borrowed by
Cassian from llie Latin of S. Matt, xxviil. i.

^ Totis Quinqjiagesima diebus. See above on c. vi.

* That this was the rule of the primitive Church is shown by
TertuUian, De Corona Mil His, c. iii. " We count fasting or kneel-
ing in worship on the Lord's day to be unlawful. We rejoice in the
same privilege, also, from Easter to Whitsunday." And even earlier,

CHAPTER II.

How among the Egyptians they apply themselves all day
long to prayer and Psalms continually, with the addition of
work, without distinction of hours.

For among them (viz., the Egyptians) these
offices which we are taught to render to the
Lord at separate hours and at intervals of
time, with a reminder from the convener, are
celebrated continuously throughout the whole

in a frno^ment of Irena^us, there is a mention of the fact that Chris-
tians abstained from kneeling on Sunday in token of the resurrec-
tion. I''or later testimonies see .Ambrose, Ep. iic),adjaiiiiarium.
Kpiphaniiis, on Heresies, Book III. (Vol. IIL p. 583, ed. Dindorf).
Jerome, Dial : Adv. Lucif- c. iv. ; and the Twentieth Canon of the
Council of Nicsa, with Canon I'right's \\o\.fti (Notes on the Catwtts
0/ the First Four General Coitncils, p. 72).

'• Cf. the Conferences XXLxi.

<■ .According to .S. Jerome, Hilarion was the first to introduce the
monastic life into Palestine {Vita Hilar.). His \vork was carried on
by his companion and pupil Hesycas, and Epiphanius, afterwards
Bishop of Salamis in Cyprus, in Asia Minor .S. Basil was the
greater organizer of monasticism, though, as he tells us, there were
already many monks, not only in Egypt, but also in Palestine,
Coelosyria, and Mesopotamia (Ep. ccxxiii.). See also on the early
monks of Palestine and the East, Sozomen, H. E., Book VI., cc.
xxxii.-xxxv.

BOOK III.

213

day, with the addition of work, and that of
their own free will. For manual labour is
incessantly practised by them in their cells in
such a way that meditation on the Psalms and
the rest of the Scriptures is never entirely
omitted. And as with it at every moment
they mingle suffrages and prayers, they spend
the whole day in those offices which we cele-
brate at fixed times. Wherefore, except Ves-
pers and Nocturns, there are no public services
among them in the day except on Saturday and
Sunday, when they meet together at the third
hour for the purpose of Holy Communion.^
For that which is continuously offered is more
than what is rendered at intervals of time;
and more acceptable as a free gift than the
duties which are performed by the compulsion
of a rule : as David for this rejoices somewhat
exultingly when he says, "Freely will I sacri-
fice unto Thee;" and, "Let the free will offer-
ings of my mouth be pleasing to Thee, O
Lord."^

CHAPTER HI.

How throughout all the East the services of Tierce, Sext,
and None are ended with only three Psalms and prayers
each ; and the reason why these spiritual offices are assigned
more particularly to those hours.

And so in the monasteries of Palestine and
Mesopotamia and all the East the services of
the above-mentioned hours are ended each day
with three Psalms apiece, so that constant
prayers may be offered to God at the appointed
times, and yet, the spiritual duties being com-
pleted with due moderation, the necessary of-
fices of work may not be in any way interfered
with : for at these three seasons we know that
Daniel the prophet also poured forth his
prayers to God day by day in his chamber
with the windows open.^ Nor is it without
good reasons that these times are more particu-
larly assigned to religious offices, since at them
what completed the promises and summed up
our salvation was fulfilled. For we can show
that at the third hour the Holy Spirit, who had
been of old promised by the prophets, de-
scended in the first instance on the Apostles
assembled together for prayer. For when in
their astonishment at the speaking with
tongues, which proceeded from them through

1 The Saturday Communion (in addition to that of Wednesday
and Friday, as well as Sunday) is also mentioned by S. Basil {Ep.
xciii.), and cf. the Forty-ninth Canon of the Council of Laodicaea
(circa 360 a.d.): " During Lent the bread shall not be offered except
on Saturday and Sunday." In the West there is no trace of a spe-
cial Saturday celebration of the Holy Communion.

The third hour was the ordinary time for Holy Communion, as
may be seen from the decree (falsely) ascribed to Pope Telesphorus
(a.d. 127-138), in the Liber Pontificalis: " Ut nullus ante horam
tertiam sacriticium offere pra^sumeret," and many other testimonies.

2 Ps. liii. (jliv.) 8; cxviii. (cxix.) loS.
^ Cf. Daniel vi. 10.

the outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon them,
the unbelieving people of the Jews mocked
and said that they were full of new wine, then
Peter, standing up in the midst of them, said :
" Men of Israel, and all ye who dwell at Jeru-
salem, let this be known unto you, and consider
my words. For these men are not, as ye
imagine, drunk, since it is the third hour of
the day; but this is that which was spoken by
the prophet Joel: and it shall come to pass in
the last days, saith the Lord, I will pour out
of my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and
your daughters shall prophesy, and your young
men shall see visions and your old men shall
dream dreams. And indeed upon my servants
and my handmaids in those days I will pour
out of my Spirit, and they shall prophesy." ■*
And all of this was fulfilled at the third hour,
when the Holy Spirit, announced before by the
prophets, came at that hour and abode upon
the Apostles. But at the sixth hour the spotless
Sacrifice, our Lord and Saviour, was offered
up to the Father, and, ascending the cross for
the salvation of the whole world, made atone-
ment for the sins of mankind, and, despoiling
principalities and powers, led them away
openly; and all of us who were liable to death
and bound by the debt of the handwriting that
could not be paid, He freed, by taking it away
out of the midst and affixing it to His cross
for a trophy.^ At the same hour, too, to Peter,
in an ecstasy of mind, there was divinely re-
vealed both the calling of the Gentiles by the
letting down of the Gospel vessel from heaven,
and also the cleansing of all the living crea-
tures contained in it, when a voice came to
him and said to him: "Rise, Peter; kill and
eat; " ® which vessel, let do\'^n from heaven by
the four corners, is plainly seen to signify
nothing else than the Gospel. For although,
as it is divided by the fourfold narrative of
the Evangelists, it seems to have "four cor-
ners " (or beginnings), yet the body of the
Gospel is but one ; embracing, as it does, the
birth as well as the Godhead, and the miracles
as well as the passion of one and the same
Christ. Excellently, too, it says not "of
linen" but "«-.$■ if of linen." For linen signifies
death. Since, then, our Lord's death and pas-
sion were not undergone by the law of human
nature, but of His own free will, it says "as if
of linen." For when dead according to the
flesh He was not dead according to the spirit,
because " His soul was not left in hell, neither

* Acts ii. 14-18.

5 The whole passage is alluding to Col. ii. 14, 15, which runs as
follows in the Vulgate : " Delens quod adversum nos erat chirograf-
fum decretis, quod erat contrarium nobis, et ipse tulit de medio, affi-
gens illud cruci, expolians principatus et potestates traduxit confiden-
ter, palam triumphans illos in semet ipso."

* Acts X. 1 1 sq.

214

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

did His flesh see corruption.'"^ And again
He says: "No man taketh My life from Me :
but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to
lay it down, and I have power to take it
again." ^ And so in this vessel of the Gospels
let down from heaven, that is written by the
Holy Ghost, all the nations which were for-
merly outside the observance of the law and
reckoned as unclean now flow together through
belief in the faith that they may to their sal- ,
ration be turned away from the worship of |
idols and be serviceable for health-giving food,
and are brought to Peter and cleansed by the
voice of the Lord. But at the ninth hour,
penetrating to hades, He there by the bright- 1
ness of His splendour extinguished the inde-
scribable darkness of hell, and, bursting its
brazen gates and breaking the iron bars,
brought away with Him to the skies the captive
band of saints which was there shut up and
detained in the darkness of inexorable hell,^
and, by taking away the fiery sword, restored
to paradise its original inhabitants by his pious
confession. At the same hour, too, Cornelius,
the centurion, continuing with his customary
devotion in his prayers, is made aware through
the converse of the angel with him that his
prayers and alms are remembered before the
Lord, and at the ninth hour the mystery * of
the calling of the Gentiles is clearly shown to
him, which had been revealed to Peter in his i
ecstasy of mind at the sixth hour. In another
passage, too, in the Acts of the Apostles, we are
told as follows about the same time: "But
Peter and John went up into the temple at the
hour of prayer, the ninth hour."^ And by
these notices it is clearly proved that these
hours were not X\dthout good reason conse-
crated with religious services by holy and
apostolic men, and ought to be observed in
like manner by us, who, unless we are com-
pelled, as it were, by some rule to discharge
these pious offices at least at stated times,
either through sloth or through forgetfulness,
or being absorbed in business, spend the whole
day without engaging in prayer. But concern-
ing: the evening sacrifices what is to be said,
since even in the Old Testament these are

* Ps. XV. (xvi.) lo.
» S. John X. i8.

3 The behef that by the descent into hell our Lord released some
who were there detained was almost, if not quite, universal in the
earlv ages, and is recognized bv a large number of the Fathers. It
is alluded to by so early a writer as Ignatius (Ad Magn. ix.), and
appears in Irenxns (IV. c. xlii.) .is a tradition of those who had seen
the Apostles. .See also TertuUian, De Anima, c. Iv., and a host of
later writers.

* Sacramentum. This word is used by Cassian, as by other
Latin writers, as the regular equivalent of the Greek fivcri-ijpioi', and
as such is applied to sacred truths equally with sacred rites. See
Book v. xxxiv.; " Sacramentascriptorum ; " Conferences IX. xxxiv. :
" Sacrnmentum resurrectionis Dominica;." And again and again the
word is used of the mystery of the Incarnation in the books against
Nestorius.

'' Acts iii. I.

ordered to be offered continually by the law
of Moses? For that the morning whole-burnt
offerings and evening sacrifices were oftered
every day continually in the temple, although
with figurative oft'erings, we can show from
that which is sung by David: " Let my prayer
be set forth in Thy sight as the incense, and
let the lifting up of my hands be an evening
sacrifice," ^ in which place we can understand
it in a still higher sense of that true evening
sacrifice which was given by the Lord our
Saviour in the evening to the Apostles at the
Supper, when He instituted the holy mysteries
of the Church, and of that evening sacrifice
which He Himself, on the following day, in
the end of the ages, offered up to the Father
by the lifting up of His hands for the salva-
tion of the whole world; which spreading
forth of His hands on the Cross is quite
correctly called a "lifting up." For when
we were all lying in hades He raised us to
heaven, according to the word of His own
promise when He says: "When I am lifted
up from the earth, I will draw all men unto
Me."'^ But concerning Mattins, that also
teaches us which it is customary every day to
sing at it: "O God, my God, to Thee do I
watch at break of day; " and "I will meditate
on Thee in the morning;" and "I prevented
the dawning of the day and cried ; " and again,
" Mine eyes to Thee have prevented the morn-
ing, that I might meditate on Thy words." * At
these hours too that householder in the Gospel
hired labourers into his vineyard. For thus
also is he described as having hired them in
the early morning, which time denotes the Mat-
tin office; then at the third hour; then at the
sixth ; after this, at the ninth ; and last of all,
at the eleventh,^ by which the hour of the
lamps -^^ is denoted. -^^

8 Ps. cxl. (cxli.) 2.

" S. John xii. 32.

* Pss. Ixii. (Ixiii.) 2, 7; cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 8. In both East and
West Ps. Ixii. (Ixiii.) has from very early limes been used as a morn-
ing hymn. See the Apost. Constitutions II. lix., VIII. xxxvii. In
the East it is still one of the fixed I'salms at Lauds, as it is also in
the West, according to the Roman use. But in Cassian's time it
had apparently been transferred from Lauds to Prime. See below,
c. vi.

» S. Matt. XX. 1-6.

'" Liicernaris hora ; i.e., the hour for Vespers, which is some-
times called lucernarium or lucernalis. S. Jerome in Fs. cxix. S.
Augustine, Senno i ad fratres in er.

"It will be noticed that in this chapter Cassian alludes to five
offices: (i) A morning office; (2) the third hour: (3) the sixth ; (4)
the ninth ; and (5) Vespers ; and gives the grounds for tlieir observ-
ance. Similar grounds are given by Cyprian, De O^-at. Dominica sub
fine: "For upon the disciples, at the third hour, the Holy Spirit
descended, who fulfilled the grace of the Lord's promise. Moreover,
at the sixth hour, Peter, going up to the housetop, was instructed as
well by the sign as by the word of God, admoni.«hing him to receive
all to the grace of salvation, whereas he was previously doubtful of
the receiving of the Gentiles to baptism. And from the sixth hour
to the ninth the Lord, being crucified, washed away our sins by His
blood; and that He might redeem and quicken us, He then accom-
plished His victory by His passion. But for us, beloved brethren,
besides the hours of prayer observed of old, both the times and the
sacraments have now increased in number. For we must also pray
in the morning, that the Lord's resurrection may be celebrated by
morning prayer. . . . Also at the sun-setting and decline of day we

BOOK III.

215

CHAPTER IV.

How the Mattin office was not appointed by an ancient tra-
dition but was started in our own day lor a definite reason.

But you must know that this Mattins, which
is now very generally observed in Western
countries, was appointed as a canonical office
in our own day, and also in our own monastery,
where our Lord Jesus Christ was born of a
Virgin and deigned to submit to growth in
infancy as man, and where by His Crace He
supported our own infancy, still tender in
religion, and, as it were, fed with milk.^ For
up till that time we find that when this office
of Mattins (which is generally celebrated after
a short interval after the Psalms and prayers
of Nocturns in the monasteries of Gaul) was
finished, together with the daily vigils, the re-
maining hours were assigned by our Elders to
bodily refreshment. But when some rather
carelessly abused this indulgence and pro-
longed their time for sleep too long, as they
were not obliged by the requirements of any
service to leave their cells or rise from their
beds till the third hour; and when, as well
as losing their labour, they were drowsy from
excess of sleep in the daytime, when they ought
to have been applying themselves to some
duties, (especially on those days when an un-
usually oppressive weariness was caused by
their keeping watch from the evening till
the approach of morning), a complaint was
brought to the Elders by some of the brethren
who were ardent in spirit and in no slight
measure disturbed by this carelessness, and it
was determined by them after long discussion
and anxious consideration that up till sunrise,
when they could without harm be ready to read
or to undertake manual labour, time for rest
should be given to their wearied bodies, and
after this they should all be summoned to the
observance of this service and should rise from
their beds, and by reciting three Psalms and
prayers (after the order anciently fixed for the

must pray atjain. For since Christ is the true Sun and the true Day,
as the worldly sun and day depart, when we pray and ask that light
may return to us again, we pray for the advent of Christ, which shall
give us the grace of everlasting hght." Cf. alsoS. Basil, The Greater
Monastic Rules, Q. xxxvii., where the same subject is discussed, and
Apost. Const. Book VIII. c. xxxiv. In later times the Seven Canoni-
cal Hours were all connected with the events of our Lord's Passion,
and supposed to commemorate His sufferings, as the following
stanzas show ; —

At Mattins bound, at Prime reviled,

Condemned to death at Tierce,
Nailed to the Cross at Sext, at Nones

His blessed side tl ey pierce.

They take Him down at Vesper-tide,

In grave at Compline lay:
WlioVnencefofth bids His Church observe

Her sevenfold hours alway.

* The allusion is to the monasterj' at Bethlehem, where Cassian
had himself been educated. See the Introduction.

observance of Tierce and Sext, to signify the
confession of the Trinity)'' should at the same
time by an uniform arrangement put an end to
their sleep and make a beginning to their
work. And this form, although it may seem
to have arisen out of an accident and to have
been appointed within recent memory for the
reason given above, yet it clearly makes up
according to the letter that number which the
blessed David indicates (although it can be
taken spiritually) : '' Seven times a day do I
praise Thee because of Thy righteous judg-
ments." ^ For by the addition of this service
we certainly hold these spiritual assemblies
seven times a day, and are shown to sing
praises to God seven times in it.'* Lastly,
though this same form, starting from the East,
has most beneficially spread to these parts,
yet still in some long-established monasteries
in the East, which will not brook the slight-
est violation of the old rules of the Fathers,
it seems never to have been introduced.^

CHAPTER V.

How they ought not to go back to bed again after the Mattin

prayers.

But some in this province, not knowing the
reason why this office was appointed and in-
troduced, go back again to bed after their
Mattin prayers are finished, and in spite of it
fall into that very habit to check which our
Elders instituted this service. For they are
eager to finish it at that hour, that an opportu-
nity may be given, to those who are inclined to
be indifferent and not careful enough, to go
back to bed again, which most certainly ought
not to be done (as we showed more fully in
the previous book when describing the service
of the Egyptians),® for fear least the force of

2 TrincE confessionis exemplo. The words appear to mean that
the three Psalms used at these offices are significant of the Persons
of the Holy Trinity. So somewhat similarly Cyprian (on the Lord's
Prayer) speaks of the third, sixth, and ninth hours being observed as
a sacrament of the Trinity.

2 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 164.

* This second " Mattins" of which Cassian has been speaking is
the service which the later Church called Prime, Cassiati'.s first
Mattins corresponding to Lauds, and his Nocturns, or"VigiHs,"
to Mattins. Thus the "seven hours " are made up as follows: (i)
Nocturns or Mattins, (2) Lauds, (3) Prime, (4) Tierce, (5) Sext, (6)
None, (7) Vespers. Compline, it will be noticed, had not yet been
introduced. This appears for the first time in the Rule of S. Bene-
dict (c. xvi.), a centurv later. By its introduction the " day hours "
were made up to seven, Nocturns belonging strictly to the night,
and answering to the Psalmist's words, " At }nidnight will I rise to
give thanks to Thee." Ps. cxix. 62.

0 The introduction of Prime appears to have been very gradual,
even in the West; for, though an office for it is prescribed in S. Bene-
dict (c. xix.), vet there is no mention of it in the Rule of Caesarius of
Aries for monks, nor in that of Isidore of Seville, and it is omitted
by Cassiodorus in his enumeration of the seven hours observed by
the monks. After Benedict the next to mention it appears to be
Aurelius, a successor of C:Esarius at Aries, and by degrees it made
its wav to universal adoption in the West. In the Greek Church the
office for it is said continuously witli Lauds (to opSpov).

6 Book II. c. xiii.

2l6

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

our natural passions should be aroused and
stain that purity of ours which was gained by
humble confession and prayers before the
dawn, or some illusion of the enemy pollute
us, or even the repose of a pure and natural
sleep interfere with the fervour of our spirit
and make us lazy and slothful throughout the
whole day, as we are chilled by the slug-
gishness caused by sleep. And to avoid this
the Egyptians, and especially as they are in
the habit of rising at fixed times even before
the cock-crow, when the canonical office ^ has
been celebrated, afterwards prolong their vigils
even to daylight, that the morning light when
it comes on them may ilnd them established
in fervour of spirit, and keep them still more
careful and fervent all through the day, as it
has found them prepared for the conflict and
strengthened against their daily struggle with
the devil by the practice of nocturnal vigils
and spiritual meditation.

CHAPTER VI.

How no change was made by the Elders in the ancient system
of Psalms when the Mattin office was instituted.

But this too we ought to know, viz., that no
change was made in the ancient arrangement
of Psalms by our Elders who decided that this
Mattin service should be added; '-^ but that
office ^ was always celebrated in their nocturnal
assemblies according to the same order as it
had been before. For the hymns which in
this country they used at the Mattin service at
the close of the nocturnal vigils, which they
are accustomed to finish after the cock-crowing
and before dawn, these they still sing in
like manner; viz., Ps. 148, beginning "O
praise the Lord from heaven,'"' and the rest
which follow; but the 50th Psalm and the
62 nd, and the 89th have, we know, been

• Missa.

' I.e., Prime. Some confusion is likely to be causrd by the fact
that Cassian speaks of botli " Lauds " and " Prime " by the same title
of Mattins. Immediately below, where he speaks of the " Mattin
service at the close of the nocturnal vigils " he is referring to Lauds,
which always followed immediately (or after a very short interval)
after Nocturns, or_ Mattins. At this service Pss. cxlviii.-cl. have
always been sung ; indeed, they form the characteristic feature which

fives the service its nam^ of " Lauds " ^oi aii'oi). Of the other three
'salms, 1. (li.), Ixii. (Ixiii.), and Ixxxix. (xc), wliich Cassian says had
been transferred from Lauds to the newly instituted service of Prime,
Ixii. has been already spoken of as a morning hymn of the earlv
Church (see the notes on c. iii.), and we learn from S. Hasil that in
his day Ps. 1. (6 Tijs t'fo/iioAoyjjaea)? v/zaA/io?) was regularly sung after
Mattins wlien the dav began to break (/?/. ccvii. ad derkos Neo-C<Fs.),
and it is still a Laaud.s Psalm in both East and West. Ixxxix. (xc.) is
now one of the fixed Psalms at Prime in the East, but in the West
it is, according to the Roman rule, sung at Lauds on Thursdays
only. Thus it would aj^pear that the transfer of these three Psalms
from I_xiuds to Prime, of which Cassian speaks, never obtained
widely, but that the older arrangement, whereby, at any rate, 1. and
Ixii. were assigned to Lauds, has generally been adhered to both in
the East and West. Cf. the Rule of .S. P.enedict, according to which
Ps. 1. is sung daily at Lauds, and Ixii. as well on Sundays (c. xii., xiii.).

* Missa,

assigned to this new service. Lastly, through-
out Italy at this day, when the Mattin hymns
are ended, the 50th Psalm is sung in all the
churches, which I have no doubt can only
have been derived from this source.

CHAPTER VII.

How one who does not come to the daily prayer before the
end of the first Psalm is not allowed to enter the Oratory ;
but at Nocturns a late arrival up to the end of the second
Psalm can be overlooked.

But one who at Tierce, Sext, or None has
not come to prayer before the Psalm is begun
and finished does not venture further to enter
the Oratory nor to join himself to those sing-
ing the Psalms; but, standing outside, he
awaits the breaking-up of the congregation,*
and while they are all coming out does penance
lying on the ground, and obtains absolution
for his carelessness and lateness, knowing that
he can in no other way expiate the fault of his
sloth, nor can ever be admitted to the service
which will follow three hours later, unless he
has been quick to .make satisfaction at once
for his present negligence by the help of true
humility. But in the nocturnal assemblies a
late arrival up to the second Psalm is allowed,
provided that before the Psalm is finished and
the brethren bow down in prayer he makes
haste to take his place in the congregation
and join them ; but he will most certainly be
subjected to the same blame and penance
which we mentioned before if he has delayed
ever so little beyond the hour permitted for a
late arrival.^

CHAPTER VIIL

Of the Vigil service which is celebrated on the evening pre-
ceding the Sabbath ; of its length, and the manner in which
it is observed.

In the winter time, however, when the nights
are longer, the Vigils,^ which are celebrated
every week on the evening at the commencing
the Sabbath, are arranged by the elders in the
monasteries to last till the fourth cock-crow-

* Coitgregationis missam.

"■ The Rule of S. Benedict has similar provisions, allowing a late
arrival at Mattins till the C.loria after the Venite (the second Psalm,
as it is preceded by Ps. iii.), and at the other services till the Gloria
after the first Psalm. " If any come later than this, he is not to take
his usual place in the choir, but stand last of all, or take whatever
place the Abbot may have appointed for those who are guilty of a
similar neglect, so that he may be seen of all ; and in this place he is
to remain until he shall have made public satisfaction, at the end of
the office. We deem it necessary," the Rule proceeds, " to place
such offenders thus apart, that, being thus exposed to the view of
all their brethren, they may be shamed into a sense of duty. More-
over, if such were allowed to remain outside the church, they might
cither sit down at their ease, or while away their time in chatting, or
perhaps return to the dormitory and compose themselves to sleep,
and thus expose themselves to the temptations of the enemy." Rule
of S. Henedict, c. xliii.

' Vigilix is here used as the equivalent of Nocturns.

BOOK III.

217

ing, for this reason, viz., that after the watch
through the whole night they may, by resting
their bodies for the remaining time of nearly
two hours, avoid flagging through drowsiness
the whole day long, and be content with repose
for this short time instead of resting the whole
nio-ht. And it is proper for us, too, to observe
thfs with the utmost care, that we may be con-
tent with the sleep which is allowed us after
the office of Vigils up to daybreak, — i.e., till
the Mattin Psalms, i — and afterwards spend
the whole day in work and necessary duties, lest
through weariness from the Vigils, and feeble-
ness, we might be forced to take by day the
sleep which we cut off from the night, and so
be thought not to have cut short our bodily
rest so much as to have changed our time for
repose and nightly retirement. For our feeble
flesh could not possibly be defrauded of the
whole night's rest and yet keep its vigour un-
shaken throughout the following day without
sleepiness of mind and heaviness of spirit, as
it will be hindered rather than helped by this
unless after Vigils are over it enjoys a short
slumber. And, therefore, if, as we have sug-
gested, at least an hour's sleep is snatched
before daybreak, we shall save all the hours
of Vigils which we have spent all through the
night in prayer, granting to nature what is due
to it, and having no necessity of taking back
by day what we have cut off from the night.
For a man will certainly have to give up every-
thing to this flesh if he tries, not in a rational
manner to withhold a part only, but to refuse
the whole, and (to speak candidly) is anxious
to cut off not what is superfluous but what is
necessar}^ Wherefore Vigils have to be made
up for with greater interest if they are pro-
longed with ill-considered and unreasonable
length till daybreak. And so they divide them
into an office in three parts, that by this variety
the effort may be distributed and the exhaus-
tion of the body relieved by some agreeable
relaxation. For when standing they have
sung three Psalms antiphonally,^ after this,
sitting on the ground or in very low stalls,
one of them repeats three Psalms, while the
rest respond, each Psalm being assigned to
one of the brethren, who succeed each other
in turn; and to these they add three lessons
while still sitting quietly. And so, by lessen-
ing their bodily exertion, they manage to ob-
serve their Vigils with greater attention of
mind.^

1 I.e., the office of Lauds.

2 Tria Antiphotui. The word is here used (as above, II. c. 11.),
not in the modern sense of antiphon, but to denote a Psalm or Psalms
sung antiphonally.

' In this chapter Cassian describes two of the different methods
of Psalmodv employed in the ancient Church : (i) Antiphona! sing-
ing, where the congregation was divided into two parts, or choirs,
-which sang alternate verses ; (2) the method according to which one

CHAPTER IX.

The reason why a Vigil is appointed as the Sabbath day
dawns, and why a dispensation from fasting is enjoyed on
the Sabbath all through the East.

And throughout the whole of the East it
has been settled, ever since the time of the
preaching of the Apostles, when the Christian
faith and religion was founded, that these
Vigils should be celebrated as the Sabbath
dawns,* for this reason, — because, when our
Lord and Saviour had been crucified on the
sixth day of the week, the disciples, over-
whelmed' by the freshness of His sufferings,
remained watching throughout the whole
night, giving no rest or sleep to their eyes.
Wherefore, since that time, a service of Vigils
has been appointed for this night, and is stillt
observed in the same way up to the presene
day all through the East. And so, after the
exertion of the Vigil, a dispensation from fast-
ing, appointed in like manner for the Sabbath
by apostolic men,^ is not without reason en-
joined in all the churches of the East, in
accordance with that saying of Ecclesiastes,
which, although it has another and a mystical
sense, is not misapplied to this, by which we
are charged to give to both days — that is, to
the seventh and eighth equally — the same
share of the service, as it says : " Give a portion
to these seven and also to these eight." ^ For
this dispensation from fasting must not be un-
derstood as a participation in the Jewish fes-
tival by those above all who are shown to be
free from all Jewish superstition, but as con-
tributing to that rest of the wearied body of
which we have spoken; which, as it fasts con-
tinually for five days in the week all through
th€ year, would easily be worn out and fail,
unless it were revived by an interval of at
least two days.

voice alone sang the first part of the verse, and the rest of the con-
gregation joined in at the close. Both methods are described in a
well-known passage in an Epistle of S. Basil {Ep. ccvii. ad dericos
Neocces\, where he tells us that in the morning service, at one time,
the people divide themselves into two parties, and sing antiphonally
to each other (ai'Tn/^iAAovo-ii' iAArjAoi?), while at another time they
entrust to one person the dntv of beginning the strain, and the rest
respond (u7Tr)xoi}cri). This latter method seems to have been a very
favourite one, the Psalms which were thus sung being called Respon-
soria. See Isidore, De Offic, i. 8; and compare the Dictionary of
Christian Antiquities, Vol. II. p. 1745; and Bmgham, W«//<:»z/:«f,
Book XIV. c. i. A third method has been alreadv described by
Cassian in Book II. c. xi. ; viz., that called Tractus, where the Psalm
was executed by a single voice, while all the rest of the congregation
listened. , . r .1

« The observance of a vigil for the whole or greater part ot the
night was a regular part of the preparation for the greater festivals,
and as such was usual in the F:ast before the Sabbath (Saturday) and
Lord's Day, as well as Pentecost and Easter. See Socrates, H. t.,
VI. fiii., where there is an allusion to this. • i •

8 Saturdav, as well as Sunday, was long regarded as a festival in
the East and, indeed, originallv in most churches of the West as
well. See the Apost. Const. 11. lix. i : VIII. xxxiii. i. Apost.
Canons Ixvi.; Council of Laodica;a, Canons xvi., xlix., h.

8 Eccl. xi. 2.

2l8

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER X.

How it was brought aboiil that they fast on the Sabbath in

the city.

But some people in some countries of the
West, and especially in the city,-^ not knowing
the reason of this indulgence, think that a dis-
pensation from fasting ought certainly not to
be allowed on the Sabbath, because they say
that on this day the Apostle Peter fasted be-
fore his encounter with Simon." But from
this it is quite clear that he did this not in
accordance with a canonical rule, but rather
through the needs of his impending- struggle.
Since there, too, for the same purpose, Peter
seems to have imposed on his disciples not a
general but a special fast, which he certainly
would not have done if he had known that it
was wont to be observed by canonical rule;
just as he would surely have been ready to
appoint it even on Sunday, if the occasion of
his struggle had fallen upon it : but no canon-
ical rule of fasting would have been made
general from this, because it was no general
observance that led to it, but a matter of
necessity, which forced it to be observed on a
single occasion.

CHAPTER XI.

Of the points in which the service held on Sunday differs
from what is customary on other days.

But we ought to know this, too, that on
Sunday only one office ^ is celebrated before
dinner, at which, out of regard for the actual
service ^ and the Lord's communion, they use

' VI7.., Rome,

2 The Saturday fast was observed at Rome in verv early davs,
being noticed by Tertullian, who seems to suggest that it originated
in the prolongation of the Friday fast (on Fastiiis^, c. xiv). But it
seems to have been almost peculiar to Rome, and at Milan, in the
time of S. Ambrose, tlie Eastern custom prevailed. See the impor-
tant letter of Augustine to Casulanus {Ep. xxxvi.), where the whole
subject of the difference of usage on this matter is fully disc\issed.
The reason here given by Cassian for the origin of the local Roman
custom (viz., that S. Peter's traditional encounter with Simon
Magus took place on Sunday, and was prepared for by the apostle
with a Saturday fast) is also there alluded to by Augustine as being
the opinion of very many, though he tells us candidly that most of
the Romans thought it false. " Est quidem et li.x-c opinio plurimo-
rum, quamvis earn perhibeant esse falsam plerique Romani, quod
Apostolus Fetrus cum Simone Mago die dominico certaturo, propter
ipsum magna; tentationis periculum, pridie cum tjusdem nrbis ecclesia
jejunaverit, et consecuto tam prospero gloriosoque successu, eundem
morem tenuerit, eumque iinitata; sunt nonnuUa; Occidentis ecclesia:;."
Cf. also Augustine, Ep. adjatmarium, liv.

* Missa.

* CoUecta. This word, from which our word " Collect " is possi-
bly derived, is used for an assembly for worship in the Vulgate in
Lev. xxiii. 36; Deut. xvi. 8; 2 Chron. vii. g; Neh. viii. 18: and com-
pare the phrase, " Ad Collectam," in the Sacramentary of Gregory
for the Feast of the Purification.

a more solemn and a longer service of Psalms
and prayers and lessons, and so consider
that Tierce and Sext are included in it. And
hence it results that, owing to the addition of
the lessons, there is no diminution of the
amount of their devotions, and yet some differ-
ence is made, and an indulgence over other
times seems to be granted to the brethren out
of reverence for the Lord's resurrection; and
this seems to lighten the observance all
through the week, and, by reason of the
difference which is interposed, it makes the
day to be looked forward to more solemnly as
a festival, and owing to the anticipation of it
the fasts of the coming week are less felt.
For any weariness is always borne with greater
equanimity, and labour undertaken without
aversion, if some variety is interposed or
change of work succeeds.

CHAPTER XXL

Of the days on which, when supper is provided for the breth-
ren, a Psalm is not said as they assemble for the meal, as
is usual at dinner.

Lastly, also, on those days, — i.e., on Satur-
day and Sunday, — and on holy days, on
which it is usual for both dinner and supper to
be provided for the brethren, a Psalm is not
said in the evening, either when they come to
supper or when they rise from it, as is usual
at their ordinary dinner^ and the canonical re-
freshment on fast days, which the customary
Psalms usually precede and follow. But they
simply make a plain prayer and come to sup-
per, and again, when they rise from it, con-
clude with prayer alone; because this repast
is something special among the monks : nor
are they all obliged to come to it, but it is only
for strangers who have come to see the breth-
ren, and those whom bodily weakness or their
own inclination invites to it.

^ \x\ sollentnihis prandiis. The phrase must here refer to their
dinner on ordinary days (cf. solemnitatem ciborum, "their usual
food," Book I v. c. xxi.). Among the early monks it was the custom
ordinarily to have but one meal a day on the fast days (viz., Wednes-
day and Friday) ; this was at the ninth hour; on other days, at the
sixth (i.e., niiddav). Cf. the Conferences XXI. c. xxiii. On festivals
(viz., Spturdav, Sunday, and holy days), beside the midday meal,
a .supper was allowed as well. And on these days, as we learn from
the passage before us, the ordinary grace before and after meat was
shortened by the omission of the customary Psalms at other times in-
cluded in it. On the meals of the monks, cf. S. Jerome's Preface to
the Rule of Pachomius and the Rule of S. Benedict, cc. xxxix -xli.,
the former of which tells us that, except on Wednesday and Friday,
dinner was at midday, and a table was also set for labourers, old men,
and children, and (apjiarently) for all, in the height of summer. For
the use of Psalms at grace, see Clement of Alexandria, Padag. II.
iv. 44; Siromateis VII. vii. 49.

BOOK IV.

219

BOOK IV.

OF THE INSTITUTES OF THE RENUNCIANTS.

CHAPTER I.

Of the training of those who renounce thiS-world, and of the
way in which those are taught among the monks of Tabenna
and the Egyptians who are received into the monasteries.

From the canonical system of Psalms and
prayers which ought to be observed in the
daily services throughout the monasteries, we
pass, in the due course of our narrative, to the
trainine: of one who renounces this world;
endeavouring first, as well as we can, to em-
brace, in a short account, the terms on which
those who desire to turn to the Lord can be
received in the monasteries; adding some
things from the rule of the Egyptians, some
from that of the monks of Tabenna, ^ whose
monastery in the Thebaid is better filled as
regards numbers, as it is stricter in the rigour
of its system, than all others, for there are in
it more than five thousand brethren under the
rule of one Abbot ; and the obedience with
which the whole number of monks is at all
times subject to one Elder is what no one
among us would render to another even for a
short time, or would demand from him.

CHAPTER n.

Of the way in which among them men remain in the mon-
asteries even to extreme old age.

And I think that before anything else we
ought to touch on their untiring perseverance
and humility and subjection, — how it lasts for
so long, and by what system it is formed,
through which they remain in the monasteries
till they are bent double with old age; for it
is so great that we cannot recollect any one
who joined our monasteries keeping it up
unbroken even for a year: so that when we
have seen the beginning of their renunciation
of the world, we shall understand how it came
about that, starting from such a commence-
ment, they reached such a height of perfec-
tion.

1 Tabenna, or Tabennas, was an island in the Nile, where was
founded a flourishing monastery by Pachomius c. 330 a.d. Of
Pachomius there is a notice in Sozomen H. E., Book III. c. xiv.,
and his Rule was translated into Latin, with a preface by S. Jerome,
who mentions his fame in Ep. cxxvii. There is a Life of Pachomius
given by Rosweyde ( Vitae Patrum), wfiich is said to be a translation
of a work by a contemporary of his.

CHAPTER HI.

Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the mon-
astery is tested.

One, then, who seeks to be admitted to the
discipline of the monastery is never received
before he gives, by lying outside the doors for
ten days or even longer, an evidence of his
perseverance and desire, as well as of humility
and patience. And when, prostrate at the feet
of all the brethren that pass by, and of set
purpose repelled and scorned by all of them,
as if he was wanting to enter the monastery
not for the sake of religion but because he
was obliged; and when, too, covered with many
insults and affronts, he has given a practical
proof of his steadfastness, and has shown what
he will be like in temptations by the way he
has borne the disgrace ; and when, with the
ardour of his soul thus ascertained, he is ad-
mitted, then they enquire with the utmost care
whether he is contaminated by a single coin
from his former possessions clinging to him.
For they know that he cannot stay for long
under the discipline of the monastery, nor ever
learn the virtue of humility and obedience,
nor be content with the poverty and difficult
life of the monastery, if he knows that ever
so small a sum of money has been kept hid;
but, as soon as ever a disturbance arises on
some occasion or other, he will at once dart
off from the monastery like a stone from a
sling, impelled to this by trusting in that
sum of money. ^

CHAPTER IV.

The reason why those who are received in the monastery are
not allowed to bring anything in with them.

And for these reasons they do not agree to
take from him money to be used even for the

2 Cf. the Rule of Pachomius, c. xxvi.: " If any one comes to the
door of the monastery wanting to renounce the world, and to Join
the number of the brethren, he shall not be allowed to enter, but the
Abbot of the monastery must first be told, and he shall stay for a few
days outside before the gate, and shall be taught the Lord's Prayer,
and as many Psalms as he can learn, and shall diligently jjive proof
of himself that he has not done any thing wrong and fled in trouble
for the time, and that he is not in any one's power, and that he can
forsake his relations and disregard his property. And if they see
that he is apt for everything, then he shall be taught the rest of the
rules of the monastery, — what he ought to do, whom he is to obey,"
etc.; and, finally, he' is to be admitted. See also the Rule of S.
Benedict, c. Iviii., which is to much the same effect ; and S. Basil's
' Longer Monastic Rules, Q. x.

220

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

good of the monastery: First, in case he may
be puffed up with arrogance, owing to this
offering, and so not deign to put himself on a
level with the poorer brethren ; and next, lest
he fail through this pride of his to stoop to the
humility of Christ, and so, when he cannot
hold out under the discipline of the monastery,
leave it, and afterwards, when he has cooled
down, want in a bad spirit to receive and get
back — not without loss to the monastery —
what he had contributed in the early days of
his renunciation, when he was aglow with
spiritual fervour. And that this rule should
always be kept they have been frequently
taught by many instances. For in some mon-
asteries where they are not so careful some who
have been received unreservedly have after-
wards tried most sacrilegiously to demand a
return of that which they had contributed and
which had been spent on God's work.

CHAPTER V.

The reason why those who sjive up the world, when they are
received in the monasteries, must lay aside their own clothes
and be clothed in others by the Abbot.

Wherefore each one on his admission is
stripped of all his former possessions, so that
he is not allowed any longer to keep even the
clothes which he has on his back: but in the
council of the brethren he is brought forward
into the midst and stripped of his own clothes,
and clad by the Abbot's hands in the dress of
the monastery, so that by this he may know
not only that he has been despoiled of all
his old things, but also that he has laid aside
all worldly pride, and come down to the want
and poverty of Christ, and that he is now to
be supported not by wealth sought for by the
world's arts, nor by anything reserved from
his former state of unbelief, but that he is to
receive out of the holy and sacred funds of
the monastery his rations for his service ; and
that, as he knows that he is thence to be
clothed and fed and that he has nothing: of
his own, he may learn, nevertheless, not to be
anxious about the morrow, according to the
saying of the Gospel, and may not be ashamed
to be on a level with the poor, that is with the
body of the brethren, with whom Christ was
not ashamed to be numbered, and to call him-
self their brother, but that rather he may glory
that he has been made to share the lot of his
own servants.^

1 So the Rule of Pachoniius(c.xxvi.) orders that on the admission
of a monk " they shall strip him of his secular dress, and put on him
the p;arb of the monks;" and that of S. Benedict (c. Iviii.), " He
shall then be clothed in the religious habit, and his secular clothes
deposited in the wardrobe, tliat if, at the instigation of the devil, he
should ever leave the monastery, they may be given back to him,
and tlic relieious dress be taken from him."

CHAPTER VI.

The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which
they joined the monastery are preserved by the steward.

But those clothes, which he laid aside, are
consigned to the care of the steward and kept
until by different sorts of temptations and
trials they can recognize the excellence of his
progress and life and endurance. And if they
see that he can continue therein as time goes
on, and remain in that fervour with which he
began, they give them away to the poor. But
if they find that he has been guilty of any fault
of murmuring, or of even the smallest piece of
disobedience, then they strip off from him the
dress of the monastery in which he had been
clad, and reclothe him in his old garments
which had been confiscated, and send him
away. 2 For it is not right for him to go away
with those which he had received, nor do they
allow any one to be any longer dressed in them
if they have seen him once grow cold in regard
to the rule of their institution. Wherefore,
also, the opportunity of going out openly is
not given to any one, unless he escapes like
a runaway slave by taking advantage of the
thickest shades of night, or is judged unworthy
of this order and profession and lays aside
the dress of the monastery and is expelled with
shame and disgrace before all the brethren.

CHAPTER VII.

The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are
not permitted to mix at once with the congregation of the
brethren, but are first committed to the guest house.

When, then, any one has been received and
proved by that persistence of which we have
spoken, and, laying aside his own garments,
has been clad in those of the monaster}^ he
is not allowed to mix at once with the congre-
gation of the brethren, but is given into the
charge of an Elder, who lodges apart not far
from the entrance of the monastery, and is en-
trusted with the care of strangers and guests,
and bestows all his diligence in receiving
them kindly. And when he has served there
for a whole year without any complaint, and
has given evidence of service towards Strang-
ers,** being thus initiated in the first rudiments

" See the quotation from the Rule of S. Benedict in the note on
the last chapter.

3 In the same way the Rule of S. Benedict (c. Iviii.) directs that
the novice is to be placed in the guest house for a few days, while
that of .S. Isidore is more precise in ordering him to be placed there
" for three months," and to wait on the gue'sts there. Two months
is the period fixed by other rules, but a few days was all that was
ultimately required, and Caspian stands alone in mentioning a full
year as tlie duration of this service, though Sozomen speaks of the
monks of Tabenna as having to undergo a probation of three years.
H. E., in. xiv.

BOOK IV.

221

of humility and patience, and by long practice
in it acknowledged, when he is to be admitted
from this into the congregation of the breth-
ren he is handed over to another Elder, who
is placed over ten of the juniors, who are en-
trusted to him by the Abbot, and whom he both
teaches and governs in accordance with the
arrangement which we read of in Exodus as
made by Moses. ^

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that
they may become proficient in overcoming all their desires.

And his anxiety and the chief part of his in-
struction— through which the juniors brought
to him may be able in due course to mount to
the greatest heights of perfection — will be to
teach him first to conquer his own wishes;
and, anxiously and diligently practising him
in this, he will of set purpose contrive to give
him such orders as he knows to be contrary
to his liking; for, taught by many examples,
they say that a monk, and especially the
younger ones, cannot bridle the desire of his
concupiscence unless he has first learnt by
obedience to mortify his wishes. And so they
lay it down that the man who has not first
learnt to overcome his desires cannot possibly
stamp out anger or sulkiness, or the spirit of
fornication; nor can he preserve true humility
of heart, or lasting unity with the brethren, or
a stable and continuous concord; nor remain
for any length of time in the monastery.

CHAPTER IX.

The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back
any of their thoughts from the senior.

By these practices, then, they hasten to im-
press and instruct those whom they are train-
ing with the alphabet, as it were, and first
syllables in the direction of perfection, as
they can clearly see by these whether they are
grounded in a false and imaginary or in a true
humility. And, that they may easily arrive
at this, they are next taught not to conceal by
a false shame any itching thoughts in their
hearts, but, as soon as ever such arise, to lay
them bare to the senior, and, in forming a
judgment about them, not to trust anything
to their own discretion, but to take it on trust
that that is good or bad which is considered

1 Cf. Exod. xviii. 25. The office of "Dean" (Decaiius), which is
here spoken of by Cassian, is also referred to by Augustine {De Mor.
Eccl. xxxi.) and Jerome {Ep. xxii. ad Enstock.), and recognized by
the Rule of S. Benedict, c. xxi., where directions for his appoint-
ment are given.

and pronounced so by the examination of the
senior. Thus it results that our cunning ad-
versary cannot in any way circumvent a young
and inexperienced monk, or get the better of
his ignorance, or by any craft deceive one
whom he sees to be protected not by his own
discretion but by that of his senior, and who
cannot be persuaded to hide from his senior
those suggestions of his which like fiery darts
he has shot into his heart; since the devil,
subtle as he is, cannot ruin or destroy a junior
unless he has enticed him either through pride
or through shame to conceal his thoughts.
For they lay it down as an universal and clear
proof that a thought is from the devil if we
are ashamed to disclose it to the senior.^

CHAPTER X.

How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those
things which are matters of common necessity.

Next, the rule is kept with such strict obe-
dience that, without the knowledge and per-
mission of their superior, the juniors not only
do not dare to leave their cell but on their
own authority do not venture to satisfy their
common and natural needs. And so they are
quick to fulfil without any discussion all those
things that are ordered by him, as if they were
commanded by God from heaven;^ so that
sometimes, when impossibilities are com-
manded them, they undertake them with such
faith and devotion as to strive with all their
powers and without the slightest hesitation to
fulfil them and carry them out; and out of rev-
erence for their senior they do not even con-
sider whether a command is an impossibility.'*
But of their obedience I omit at present to
speak more particularly, for we propose to
speak of it in the proper place a little later on,
with instances of it, if through your prayers
the Lord carry us safely through. We now pro-
ceed to the other regulations, passing over all
account of those which cannot be imposed on

2 Compare the Conferences, Book 11. c. x., where Cassian returns
to the same subject. A similar rule that the brethren are to lay bare
all the secrets of their hearts to their superior is given by S. Basil in
the Longer Monastic Rules, Q. xxvi., and in the Rule of S. Isaiah
(cc. vi., xhii.), printed in Holsten's Codex Regularum, Vol. I.

•' Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. v., where it is said that "the
first degree of humility is ready obedience. This is peculiar to those
who . . . prefer nothing to Christ, and fulfil the injunctions of their
superiors as promptly as if God Himself had given tliem the com-
mand," etc.

* The Rule of S. Benedict has a chapter to explain what is to be
done if a brother is commanded to perforin impossibilities (c. Ixviii,).
" If a brother is commanded to do anything that is difficult, or even
impossible, let him receive the command with all meekness and obedi-
ence ; meanwhile, should he see that he is utterly unequal to the
task laid upon him, let him represent the matter to his superior calmly
and respectfully, without pride, resistance, or contradiction. If the
superior, after hearing what he has to say, still insists on the execu-
tion of the command, let the junior be persuaded that it is for his
spiritual good, and accordingly, trusting m God's assistance, let him
for His love undertake the work."

222

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

or kept in the monasteries in this country,
as we promised to do in our Preface ; for in-
stance, how they never use woollen garments,
but only cotton, and these not double, changes
of which each superior gives out to the ten
monks under his care when he sees that those
which they are wearing are dirty.

CHAPTER XI.

The kind of food which is considered the greatest delicacy by

them.

I PASS over, too, that difficult and sublime
sort of self-control, through which it is con-
sidered the greatest luxury if the plant called
cherlock,-* prepared with salt and steeped in
water, is set on the table for the repast of the
brethren; and many other things like this,
which in this country neither the climate nor
the weakness of our constitution would permit.
And I shall only follow up those matters which
cannot be interfered with by any weakness of
the flesh or local situation, if only no weak-
ness of mind or coldness of spirit gets rid of
them.

CHAPTER XII.

How they leave off every kind of work at the sound of some
one knocking at the door, in their eagerness to answer at once.

And so, sitting in their cells and devoting
their energies equally to work and to medita-
tion, when they hear the sound of some one
knocking at the door and striking on the cells
of each, summoning them to prayer or some
work, every one eagerly dashes out from his
cell, so that one who is practising the writer's
art, although he may have just begun to form
a letter, does not venture to finish it, but runs
out with the utmost speed, at the very moment
when the sound of the knocking reaches his
ears, without even waiting to finish the letter
he has begun ; but, leaving the lines of the j
letter incomplete, he aims not at abridging \
and saving his labour, but rather hastens with
the utmost earnestness and zeal to attain the ;
virtue of obedience, which they put not merely
before manual labour and reading and silence
and quietness in the cell, but even before all
virtues, so that they consider that everything
should be postponed to it, and are content to
undergo any amount of inconvenience if only
it may be seen that they have in no way neg-
lected this virtue.^

* Labsanion. _ Cf. below, c. xxiii., where cherlock is mentioned
again, together with other delicacies (!) of the Kgyptians.

^ Cf. the Rule of S. Kenedict, c. v. : "Those wlio choose to tread I
the path that leads to life eternal immediately quit their private occu-
pations at the call of obedience, and, renouncing their own will so
far as to cast away unfinished out of their hands whatever they may ]
be occupied with, hasten to execute the orders of their superiors," etc.

CHAPTER XIII.

How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything,
however trifling, is his own.

Among their other practices I fancy that it
is unnecessary even to mention this virtue,
viz., that no one is allowed to possess a box or
basket as his special property, nor any such
thing which he could keep as his own and
secure with his own seal, as we are well aware
that they are in all respects stripped so bare
that they have nothing whatever except their
shirt, cloak, shoes, sheepskin, and rush mat;*
for in other monasteries as well, where some
indulgence and relaxation is granted, we see
that this rule is still most strictly kept, so that
no one ventures to say even in word that any-
thing is his own : and it is a great offence if
there drops from the mouth of a monk such
an expression as '"my book," " my tablets,"
" my pen," " my coat," or ''my shoes;" and
for this he would have to make satisfaction
by a proper penance, if by accident some such
expression escaped his lips through thought-
lessness or ignorance.

CHAPTER XIV.

How, even if a large sum of money is amassed by the labour
of each, still no one may venture to exceed the moderate
limit of what is appointed as adequate.

And although each one of them may bring
in daily by his work and labour so great a
return to the monastery that he could out of
it not only satisfy his own moderate demands
but could also abundantly supply the wants of
many, yet he is no way puffed up, nor does he
flatter himself on account of his toil and this
large gain from his labour, but, except two
biscuits,* which are sold there for scarcely
threepence, no one thinks that he has a right
to anything further. And among them there
is nothing (and I am ashamed to say this, and
heartily wish it was unknown in our own mon-
asteries) which is claimed by any of them, I
will not' say in deed but even in thought, as

3 Psiathtutn. The rush mats which served as a seat by day and
a bed by nij;ht for the monks. See Book V. xxxv., and the Confer-
ences I. xxiii. ; XV. i. ; XVII. iii. ; XVIII. xi. S. Jerome mentions
it in his preface to the Rule of Pachomius as one of the very few
articles contained in the cells of the monks of Tabenna. "They
have nothing in their cells except a mat and what is described below:
two ' lebitonaria,' a kind of garment without sleeves which the Egyp-
tian monks use (the colobium, or shirt), one old one for sleeping or
working, a linen garment and two hoods, a sheepskin, a linen girdle,
shoes, and a staff."

< Paxamatiunt, a biscuit. The word comes from the Greek
■na^ay-abiov, and is said to be derived from the name of a baker,
nafojio? (see Liddell and Scott, c. v.l. These biscuits formed an im-
portant part of the diet of the Egyptian monks, as we see from the
Conferences, where they are often mentioned; e.g., II. xi., xix.,
xxiv., xxvi. ; XII. xv. ; XIX. iv.

BOOK IV.

223

his special property. And though he believes
that the whole granary of the monastery forms
his substance, and, as lord of all, devotes his
whole care and energy to it all, yet never-
theless, in order to maintain that excellent
state of want and poverty which he has secured
and which he strives to preserve to the very
last in unbroken perfection, he regards him-
self as a foreigner and an alien to them all, so
that he conducts himself as a stranger and a
sojourner in this world, and considers himself
a pupil of the monastery and a servant instead
of imagining that he is lord and master of
anything.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the excessive desire of possession among us.

To this what shall we wretched creatures
say, who though living in Coenobia and estab-
lished under the government and care of an
Abbot yet carry about our own keys, and
trampling under foot all feeling of shame and
disgrace which should spring from our pro-
fession, are not ashamed actually to wear
openly upon our fingers rings with which to
seal what we have stored up ; and in whose
case not merely boxes and baskets, but not
even chests and closets are sufificient for those
things which we collect or which we reserved
when we forsook the world; and who some-
times get so angry over trifles and mere noth-
ings (to which however we lay claim as if they
were our own) that if any one dares to lay a
finger on any of them, we are so filled with rage
against him that we cannot keep the wrath of
our heart from being expressed on our lips and
in bodily excitement. But, passing by our
faults and treating with silence those things of
which it is a shame even to speak, according
to this saying: " My mouth shall not speak the
deeds of men," -^ let us in accordance with the
method of our narration which we have begun
proceed to those virtues which are practised
among them, and which we ought to aim at with
all earnestness; and let us briefly and hastily
set down the actual rules and systems that
afterwards, coming to some of the deeds and
acts of the elders which we propose carefully
to preserve for recollection, we may support
by the strongest testimonies what we have set
forth in our treatise, and still further confirm
everything that we have said by examples and
instances from life.

1 Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 4.

' From this passage we gather that in Egypt two monks were often
the joint occupants of a single cell. Cf. II. xii, and Conference XX.
i., ii.

CHAPTER XVI.

On the rules for various rebukes.

If then any one by accident breaks an
earthenware jar (which they call "baucalis"),
he can only expiate his carelessness by public
penance; and when all the brethren are assem-
bled for service he must lie on the ground
and ask for absolution until the service of the
prayers is finished; and will obtain it when
by the Abbot's command he is bidden to rise
from the ground. The same satisfaction must
be given by one who when summoned to some
work or to the usual service comes rather late,
or who when singing a Psalm hesitates ever so
little. Similarly if he answers unnecessarily
or roughly or impertinently, if he is careless
in carrying out the services enjoined to him,
if he makes a slight complaint, if preferring
reading to work or obedience he is slow in
performing his appointed duties, if when ser-
vice is over he does not make haste to go back
at once to his cell, if he stops for ever so
short a time with some one else, if he goes
anywhere else even for a moment, if he takes
any one else by the hand, if he ventures to dis-
cuss anything however small with one who is
not the joint-occupant of his cell," if he prays
with one who is suspended from prayer, if he
sees any of his relations or friends in the world
and talks with them without his senior, if he
tries to receive a letter from any one or to write
back without his Abbot's leave.^ To such an
extent does spiritual censure proceed and in
such matters and faults like these. But as
for other things which when indiscriminately
committed among us are treated by us too as
blameworthy, viz. : open wrangling, manifest
contempt, arrogant contradictions, going out
from the monastery freely and without check,
familiarity with women, wrath, quarrelling,
jealousies, disputes, claiming something as

3 Many of these faults are noticed in the Rule of Pachomius as
deserving censure e.g., unpunctuality at or carelessness in service
(c. viii. ix.), breaking anything (c.cxxv.), murmuring (Ixxxvii. I, taking
the hand of another (xliv.). So also in the Rule of S. Benedict
(cc. xliii.-xlvi.) similar directions are given, while in c. xliv. the
nature of the penance is more fully described. He who in pun-
ishment of a grievous fault has been excluded from the Refectory
and the Church, shall lie prostrate at the door of the lattei; at the end
of each office, and shall there remain in silence with his forehead
touching the ground, until the brethren retiring from church have all
walked over liim. This penance he shall continue to perform till it
be announced to him that lie has made due satisfaction. When com-
manded by the Abbot to appear before him, he shall go and cast him-
self at his feet and then at the feet of all the brethren, begging of them
to pray for him. He shall then be admitted to the choir, if the
Abbot so order, and shall take there whatever place he may assign
him : but let him not presume to intone a Psalm, read a lesson or
perform any similar duty, without the special permission of the
Abbot. He shall, moreover, prostrate himself in his place in choir
at the end of every office, until the Abbot tells him to discontinue
this penance. Those who for light faults are excluded merely from
the common table, shall make satisfaction in the church according as
the Abbot shall direct, and shall continue to do so until he gives
them his blessing and tells them that they have made sufficient atone-
ment.

224

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

one's own property, the infection of covetous-
ness, the desire and acquisition of unnecessarj^
things which are not possessed by the rest of
the brethren, taking food between meals and
by stealth, and things like these — they are
dealt with not by that spiritual censure of
which we spoke, but by stripes ; or are atoned
for by expulsion.

CHAPTER XVII.

Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons
should be read in tlie Ccenobia while the brethren are eating,
and of the strict silence which is kept among the Egyptians.

But we have been informed that the plan
that, while the brethren are eating, the holy
lessons should be read in the Ccenobia did
not originate in the Egyptian system but in
the Cappadocian. And there is no doubt that
they meant to establish it not so much for the
sake of the spiritual exercise as for the sake
of putting a stop to unnecessary and idle con-
versation, and especially discussions, which so
often arise at meals; since they saw that these
could not be prevented among them in any
other way.-"- For among the Egyptians and
especially those of Tabenna so strict a silence
is observed by all that when so large a number
of the brethren has sat down together to a
meal, no one ventures to talk even in a low
tone except the dean, who however if he sees
that anything is wanted to be put on or taken
off the table, signifies it by a sign rather
than a word. And while they are eating, the
rule of this silence is so strictly kept that with
their hoods drawn down over their eyelids
(to prevent their roving looks having the op-
portunity of wandering inquisitively) they can
see nothing except the table, and the food that
is put on it, and which they take from it; so
that no one notices what another is eating.^

1 It is quite in keeping with what is here said by Cassian that in
the Rule of Pachomius there is no mention of reading at meals, but
only of the strict silence observed, so that anything wanted rfisht not
be asked for but only indicated by a sign (cc'. xxxi., xxxiii.), while in
the shorterMonastic Rules of S. Hasil the custom of reading at
meals is distinctly alluded to (Q. clxxx.). It is of course also ordered
in most of the later monastic rules, e.g. that of Cesarius of Aries
" ad Monachos " c. xlix., " ad Virgines " c. xvi. ; that of S. Aure-
lian, c. xlix.; S. Isidore, c. x., and S. Benedict, c. xxxviii. The
regulations in the last mentioned are as follows: — "A book should
be read in the Refectory while the brethren are at meals. Let no
one presume to read of his own accord; but let there be one appointed
to perforin that duty, who, commencing on .Sunday, will read during
the entire week. . . Profound silence shall be observed during
meals, so that no voice save that of the reader may be heard. The
brethren will so help each other to what is necessary as regards food
and drink that no one may have occasion toask for anything ; should,
however, anything be wanted, let it be asked for by sign rather than
word. I,et no one presume to make any observation either on what
is being read or on any other subject, lest occasion be given to the
enemy. The Prior, however, should he think fit, may say a few
words to edify the brethren."

^ .So Pachomius (c. xxix.). While they are eating they shall sit in
their right places and shall cover their heads.

CHAPTER XVIII.

How it is against the rule for any one to take anything to eat or
drink except at the common table.

In between their regular meals in common
they are especially careful that no one should
presume to gratify his palate with any food : ^
so that when they are walking casually
through gardens or orchards, when the fruit
hanging enticingly on the trees not only knocks
against their breasts as they pass through, but
is also lying on the ground and offering itself
to be trampled under foot, and (as it is all
ready to be gathered) would easily be able to
entice those who see it to gratify their appetite,
and by the chance offered to them and the
quantity of the fruit, to excite even the most
severe and abstemious to long for it; still they
consider it wrong not merely to taste a single
fruit, but even to touch one with the hand,
except what is put on the table openly for the
common meal of all, and supplied publicly
by the steward's catering through the service
of the brethren, for their enjoyment.

CHAPTER XIX.

How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service
is undertaken by the brethren.

In order that we may not appear to omit any
of the Institutes of the Ccenobia I think that
it should be briefly mentioned that in other
countries as well there is a daily service un-
dertaken by the brethren. For throughout the
whole of Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Cappa-
docia and all the East the brethren succeed
one another in turn every week for the per-
formance of certain duties, so that the number
serving is told off according to the whole num-
ber of monks in the Coenobium. And they
hasten to fulfil these duties with a zeal and
humility such as no slave bestows on his ser-
vice even to a most harsh and powerful mas-
ter; so that not satisfied only with these
services which are rendered by canonical rule,
they actually rise by night in their zeal and
relieve those whose special duty this is; and
secretly anticipating them try to finish those
duties which these others would have to do.
But each one who undertakes these weeks is
on duty and has to serve until supper on

' Similarly we find in the Rule of Pachomius that no one is allowed
to keep any food in his cell besides what he receives from the steward
(c. Ixxix.); and the Benedictine Rule also says: "Let no one pre-
sume to lake any food or drink out of the regular hours of meals"
(c. xliii). Cf. also the Rule of Pachomius cc. Ixxv. and Ixxviii., S.
Basil's longer Monastic Rules Q. xv.,'Ai//aTo PpuiiiaTiov napa.
Katpov ; eJTt ttAcicttoi' t^? rjfiepai; aTTOo'tToy c<rTUJ, the Rule of Aure-
liau (c. lii.), that of Isidore (c. xiii.), etc.

BOOK IV.

225

Sunday, and when this is done, his duty for
the whole week is finished, so that, when all
the brethren come together to chant the Psalms
(which according to custom they sing before
<roine: to bed) those whose turn is over wash
the feet of all in turn, seeking faithfully from
them the reward of this blessing for their work
during the whole week, that the prayers offered
up by all the brethren together may accompany
them as they fulfil the command of Christ,
the prayer, to wit, that intercedes for their
ignorances and for their sins committed through
human frailty, and may commend to God the
complete service of their devotion like some
rich offering. And so on Monday after the
Mattin hymns they hand over to others who
take their place the vessels and utensils with
which they have ministered, which these re-
ceive and keep with the utmost care and anxi-
ety, that none of them may be injured or
destroyed, as they believe that even for the
^Tiallest vessels they must give an account, as
sacred things, not only to a present steward,
but to the Lord, if by chance any of them is
injured through their carelessness. And what
limit there is to this discipline, and what fidel-
ity and care there is in keeping it up, you may
see from one instance which I will give as an
example. For while we are anxious to satisfy
that fervour of yours through which you ask
for a full account of everything, and want even
what you know perfectly well to be repeated
to you in this treatise, we are also afraid of
exceeding the limits of brevity.-^

CHAPTER XX.

Of the three lentil beans which the Steward found.

During the week of a certain brother the
steward passing by saw lying on the ground
three lentil beans which had slipped out of the
hand of the monk on duty for the week '^ as
he was hastily preparing them for cooking,
together with the water in which he was wash-
ing them; and immediately he consulted the
Abbot on the subject; and by him the monk
was adjudged a pilferer and careless about
sacred property, and so was suspended from

' The weekly officers here spoken of were termed " Hebdoma-
darli " (see the next chapter). According to most rules their duties
included cooking, serving, and reading at meals. They are men-
tioned in S. Jerome's preface to tlie Rule of Pachomius (cf. also
Ep. xxii. ad Eustochium), but it would appear from what Cassian says
below in c. xxii. that in Egypt the office of cook was assigned to
some one brother and not undertaken by all in turn. According to
Cassian they entered upon office on Monday morning, but the IJene-
dictine (c. xxxv.) and other rules speak of them as beginning their
duties on Sunday morning. The custom of washing the feet of the
brethren, which Cassian here describes, is also mentioned by S.
Benedict. I. c.

' Hebdomadarius.

prayer. And the offence of his negligence
was only pardoned when he had atoned for it
by public penance. For they believe not only
that they themselves are not their own, but also
that everything that they possess is conse-
crated to the Lord. Wherefore if anything
whatever has once been brought into the mon-
astery they hold that it ought to be treated
with the utmost reverence as an holy thing.
And they attend to and arrange everything
with great fidelity, even in the case of
things which are considered unimportant or
regarded as common and paltry, so that if they
change their position and put them in a better
place, or if they fill a bottle with water, or
give anybody something to drink out of it, or
if they remove a little dust from the oratory or
from their cell they believe with implicit faith
that they will receive a reward from the Lord.

CHAPTER XXL

Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren.

We have been told of brethren in whose
week there was such a scarcity of wood that
they had not enough to prepare the usual
food for the brethren ; and when it had been
ordered by the Abbot's authority that until
more could be brought and fetched, they
should content themselves with dried food,^
though this was agreed to by all and no one
could expect any cooked food; still these men
as if they were cheated of the fruit and reward
of their labour and service, if they did not
prepare the food for their brethren according
to custom in the order of their turn — imposed
upon themselves such uncalled-for labour and
care that in those dry and sterile regions
where wood cannot possibly be procured un-
less it is cut from the fruit trees (for there are
no wild shrubs found there as with us), they
wander about through the wide deserts, and
traversing the wilderness which stretches
towards the Dead Sea,* collect in their lap
and the folds of their dress the scanty stubble
and brambles which the wind carries hither
and thither, and so by their voluntary service
prepare all their usual food for the brethren,
so that they suffer nothing to be diminished of
the ordinary supply; discharging these duties
of theirs towards their brethren with such fidel-
ity that though the scarcity of wood and the

' Xerophagia (f >7po<iayio) , "dried food," distinguished from
what is raw {omophagia) in the next chapter. Cf. for the word,
Tertullian on Fasting c. i. and xvii.

* This shows that Cassian is here writing about the monks of
Palestine, not those of Egypt, who (according to the next cliapter)
had a permanent cook- There is a further allusion to and description
of this desert in the Conference VI. i.

226

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

Abbot's order would be a fair excuse for them,
yet still out of regard for their profit and re-
ward they will not take advantage of this
liberty.

CHAPTER XXII.

Of the system of the Egyptians, which is appointed for the
daily service of the brethren.

These things have been told in accordance
with the system, as we remarked before, of
the whole East, which also we say should be
observed as a matter of course in our own
country. But among the Egyptians whose
chief care is for work there is not the mutual
change of weekly service, for fear lest owing
to the requirements of office they might all
be hindered from keeping the rule of work.
But one of the most approved brethren is given
the care of the larder and kitchen, and he
takes charge of that office for good and all
as long as his strength and years permit. For
he is exhausted by no great bodily labour,
because no great care is expended among them
in preparing food or in cooking, as they so
largely make use of dried and uncooked food,-'
and among them the leaves of leeks cut each
month, and cherlock, table salt," olives, tiny
little salt fish which they call sardines,^ form
the greatest delicacy.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Of the obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted
even to the grace of prophecy.

And since this book is about the training of
one who renounces this world, whereby, mak-
ing a beginning of true humility and perfect
obedience, he may be enabled to ascend the
heights of the other virtues as well, I think it
well to set down just by way of specimen, as
we promised, some of the deeds of the elders
whereby they excelled in this virtue, selecting
a few only out of many instances, that, if any
are anxious to aim at still greater heights,
they may not only receive from these an in-
citement towards the perfect life, but may also
be furnished with a model of what they pur-

* The distinction between the xerophagia and omophagia is
shown by the following passage from S. Jerome's Life of Hilarion,
describing liis food: "From liis twenty-first year to his twenty-
seventh for three years .... his food was dry bread and water
(xerophagia). Further from his twenty-seventh to his thirtietli year
he supported himself on wild lierbs, and the raw roots of certain
plants (omophagia)."

' Salfricttim, " rubbed salt," i.e., table salt as distinct from
rough or block .salt.

^ MccHomenia (Petschenig) or Moenidia (Gazaus). The word
comes from the Greek y.a.{.v6}i.f.va. or /iainfiiot', dimin. from (naiVT), a
small salted fish.

pose. Wherefore, to make this book as short
as possible we will produce and set down two
or three out of the whole number of the
Fathers; and first of all Abbot John who
lived near Lycon ^ which is a town in the
Thebaid; and who was exalted even to the
grace of prophecy for his admirable obedience,
and was so celebrated all the world over that
he was by his merits rendered famous even
among kings of this world. For though, as we
said, he lived in the most remote parts of the
Thebaid, still the Emperor Theodosius did
not venture to declare war against the most
powerful tyrants before he was encouraged by
his utterances and replies: trusting in which
as if they had been brought to him from
heaven he gained victories over his foes in
battles which seemed hopeless.^

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senior, Abbot
John kept on watering as if it would grow.

And so this blessed John from his youth up
even to a full and ripe age of manhood was
subject to his senior as long as he continued
living in this world, and carried out his com-
mands with such humility that his senior him-
self was utterly astounded at his obedience ;
and as he wanted to make sure whether this
virtue came from genuine faith and profound
simplicity of heart, or whether it was put on
and as it were constrained and only shown in
the presence of the bidder, he often laid upon
him many superfluous and almost unnecessary
or even impossible commands. From which
I will select three to show to those who wish
to know how perfect was his disposition and
subjection. For the old man took from his
woodstack a stick which had previously been
cut and got ready to make the fire with, and
which, as no opportunity for cooking had
come, was lying not merely dry but even
mouldy from the lapse of time. And when
he had stuck it into the ground before his very
eyes, he ordered him to fetch water and to

* Lvcon or Lycopolis in the Thebaid is the modern El Syout on
the west banks of the Nile, S.E. of Hermopolis ( = Minieh).

'' This John of I.ycopolis was one of the most celebrated hermits
o'f the fourth century. Originally a carpenter, he retired at the age
of twenty-five into the wilderness,' and after the death of his instructor
settled near Lycopolis. Here, as Cassian tells us, he received as a
reward for his obedience the gift of prophecy ; and was consulted by
crowds who came to him for this purpose and among others by the
Emperor Theodosius, to whom ho foretold (i) his victory over the
usuqier Maxinuis (a.d. 3SS), and (2) his success against Eugenius
in A.n. 305. He is mentioned again by Cassian in the Conferences
L xxi., XXIV. xxvi., etc. A full account of him is given by Rufinus
in liis history of the monks c. i., and by Palladius in the Lansiac
History 43-60; he is also mentioned by Augustine De Civitate Dei,
Book V. c. xxvi; De Cura pro mortals gerenda, c. xvii.,and Jerome
Ep. cxxxiii. ad Ctesiphontem, as well as by Theodoret H.E. V. xxiv.
and Sozomeu H.E. VL xxviii.

BOOK IV.

227

water it twice a day that by this daily watering
it might strike roots and be restored to life as
a tree, as it was before, and spread out its
branches and afford a pleasant sight to the
eyes as well as a shade for those who sat under
it in the heat of summer. And this order the
lad receiv^ed with his customary veneration,
never considering its impossibility, and day
by day carried it out so that he constantly
carried water for nearly two miles and never
ceased to water the stick; and for a whole
year no bodily infirmity, no festival services,
no necessary business (which might fairly have
excused him from carrying out the command),
and lastly no severity of winter could interfere
and hinder him from obeying this order. And
when the old man had watched this zeal of his
on the sly without saying anything for several
days and had seen that he kept this command
of his with simple willingness of heart, as if
it had come from heaven, without any change
of countenance or consideration of its reason-
ableness— approving the unfeigned obedience
of his humility and at the same time commis-
erating his tedious labour which in the zeal
of his devotion he had continued for a whole
year — he came to the dry stick, and, "John,"
said he, "has this tree put forth roots or no? "
And when the other said that he did not know,
then the old man as if seeking the truth of
the matter and trying whether it was yet de-
pending on its roots, pulled up the stick be-
fore him with a slight disturbance of the earth,
and throwing it away told him that for the
future he might stop watering it.-^

CHAPTER XXV.

Of the unique vase 6f oil thrown away by Abbot John at his
senior's command.

Thus the youth, trained up by exercises of
this sort, daily increased in this virtue of
obedience, and shone forth more and more
with the grace of humility; and when the sweet
odour of his obedience spread throughout all
the monasteries, some of the brethren, coming
to the elder for the sake of testing him or
rather of being edified by him, marvelled at
his obedience of which they had heard; and
so the elder called him suddenly, and said,
" Go up and take this cruse of oil " - (which was
the only one in the desert and which furnished

* A somewhat similar story is told by Sulpitius Severiis (Dialogi
I. c. xiii.) of an Egyptian monk, only in that case the story terminates
in a more satisfactory manner, as in the third year the stick took root
and sprouted!

2 Lenticula ; the word is used for a cruse of oil in the Vulgate.
I Sam. X. I ; 2 Kings ix. 1,3.

a very scanty supply of the rich liquid for their
own use and for that of strangers) " and throw
it down out of window." And he Hew up
stairs when summoned and threw it out of
window and cast it down to the ground and
broke it in pieces without any thought or con-
sideration of the folly of the command, or
their daily wants, and bodily infirmity, or of
their poverty, and the trials and difficulties of
the wretched desert in which, even if they had
got the money for it, oil of that quality, once
lost, could not be procured or replaced.

CHAPTER XXVI.

How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge
stone, which a large number of men were unable to move.

•

Again, when some others were anxious to
be edified by the example of his obedience,
the elder called him and said: "John, run
and roll that stone hither as quickly as pos-
sible ; " and he forthwith, applying now his
neck, and now his whole body, tried with all
his might and main to roll an enormous stone
which a great crowd of men would not be
able to move, so that not only were his clothes
saturated with sweat from his limbs, but the
stone itself was wetted by his neck; in this
too never weighing the impossibility of the
command and deed, out of reverence for the
old man and the unfeigned simplicity of his
service, as he believed implicitly that the old
man could not command him to do anything
vain or without reason.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Of the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius,3 which he
did not hesitate to make perfect by throwing his little boy
into the river at the command of his senior.

So far let it suffice for me to have told a few
things out of many concerning Abbot John:
now I will relate a memorable deed of Abbot
Patermucius. For he, when anxious to re-
nounce the world, remained lying before the
doors of the monastery for a long time until
by his dogged persistence he induced them —
contrary to all the rules of the Coenobia — to
receive him together with his little boy who
was about eight j^ears old. And when they
were at last admitted they were at once not

^ Patermiicius (Petschenig) or Muctus (Gazasus); probably a
different person from the man of this name of whom we read in
Rnfinus, History of the Monks, c. ix. ; as there is no allusion
there to the narrative which Cassian gives here, nor any hint that
that Patermucius had a son.

228

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

only committed to the care of different supe-
riors, but also put to live in separate cells
that the father might not be reminded by the
constant sight of the little one that out of all
his possessions and carnal treasures, which he
had cast off and renounced, at least his son re-
mained to him; and that as he was already
taught that he was no longer a rich man, so
he might also forget the fact that he was a
father. And that it might be more thoroughly
tested whether he would make affection and
love ^ for his own flesh and blood of more ac-
count than obedience and Christian mortifi-
cation (which all who renounce the world
ought out of love to Christ to prefer), the child
was on purpose neglected and dressed in rags
instead of proper clothes ; and so covered and
disfigured with dirt that he would rather dis-
gust than delight the eyes of his father when-
ever he saw him. And further, he w^as
exposed to blows and slaps from different
people, which the father often saw inflicted
without the slightest reason on his innocent
child under his very eyes, so that he never
saw his cheeks without their being stained
with the dirty marks of tears. And though
the child was treated thus day after day before
his eyes, yet still out of love for Christ and
the virtue of obedience the father's heart stood
firm and unmoved. For he no longer regarded
him as his own son, as he had offered him
equally with himself to Christ ; nor was he con-
cerned about his present injuries, but rather re-
joiced because he saw that they were endured,
not without profit; thinking little of his son's
tears, but anxious about his own humility and
perfection. And when the Superior of the
Coenobium saw his steadfastness of mind and
immovable inflexibility, in order thoroughly
to prove the constancy of his purpose, one
day when he had seen the child crying, he
pretended that he was annoyed with him and
told the father to throw him into the river.
Then he, as if this had been commanded him
by the Lord, at once snatched up the child as
quickly as possible, and carried him in his
arms to the river's bank to throw him in. And
straightway in the fervour of his faith and obe-
dience this would have been carried out in
act, had not some of the brethren been pur-
posely set to watch the banks of the river very
carefully, and when the child was thrown in,
had somehow snatched him from the bed of
the stream, and prevented the command, which
was really fulfilled by the obedience and devo-
tion of the father, from being consummated in
act and result.

> Affectionem .... charitatent.— Petschenig. The text of
Gazaeus reads the ablative.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius
that he had done the deed of Abraham ; and how when the
same Abbot died, Patermucius succeeded to the charge of
the monastery.

And this man's faith and devotion was so
acceptable to God that it was immediately
approved by a divine testimony. For it was
forthwith revealed to the Superior that by this
obedience of his he had copied the deed of the
patriarch Abraham. And when shortly after-
wards the same Abbot of the monastery de-
parted out of this life to Christ, he preferred
him to all the brethren, and left him as his
successor and as Abbot to the monastery.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Of the obedience of a brother who at the Abbot's bidding carried
about in public ten baskets and sold them by retail.

We will also not be silent about a brother
whom we knew, who belonged to a high family
according to the rank of this world, for he was
sprung from a father who was a count and
extremely wealthy, and had been well brought
up with a liberal education. This man, when
he had left his parents and fled to the monas-
tery, in order to prove the humility of his dis-
position and the ardour of his faith was at
once ordered by his superior to load his
shoulders with ten baskets (which there was
no need to sell publicly), and to hawk them
about through the streets for sale : this condi-
tion being attached, so that he might be kept
longer at the work, viz.: that if any one should
chance to want to buy them all together, he
was not to allow it, but was to sell them to
purchasers separately. And this he carried
out with the utmost zeal, and trampling under
foot all shame and confusion, out of love for
Christ, and for His Name's sake, he put the
baskets on his shoulders and sold them by
retail at the price fixed and brought back the
money to the monastery ; not in the least upset
by the novelty of so mean and unusual a duty,
and paying no attention to the indignity of
the thing and the splendour of his birth, and
the disgrace of the sale, as he was aiming at
gaining through the grace of obedience that
humility of Christ which is the true nobility.

CHAPTER XXX.

Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius. who left a very famous
CtEnobium over which he presided as Presbyter, and out of
the love of subjection sought a distant monastery where he
could be received as a novice.

The limits of the book compel us to draw
to a close ; but the virtue of obedience, which
holds the first place among other good qual-

BOOK IV.

229

ities, will not allow us altogether to pass over
in silence the deeds of those who have ex-
celled by it. Wherefore aptly combining
these two together, I mean, consulting brevity
as well as the wishes and profit of those who
are in earnest, we will only add one example
of humility, which, as it was shown by no
novice but one already perfect and an Abbot,
may not only instruct the younger, but also
incite the elders to the perfect virtue of hu-
mility, as they read it. Thus we saw Abbot
Pinufius ^ who when he was presbyter of a huge
Coinobium which is in Egypt not far from the
city of Panephysis,- was held in honour and
respect by all men out of reverence either for
his life or for his age or for his priesthood;
and when he saw that for this reason he could
not practise that humility which he longed for
with all the ardour of his disposition, and had
no opportunity of exercising the virtue of sub-
jection which he desired, he fled secretly from
the Coenobium and withdrew alone into the
furthest parts of the Thebaid, and there laid
aside the habit of the monks and assumed a
secular dress, and thus sought the Coenobium
of Tabenna, which he knew to be the strictest
of all, and in which he fancied that he would
not be known owing to the distance of the
spot, or else.that he could easily lie hid there
in consequence of the size of the monastery
and the number of brethren. There he re-
mained for a long time at the entrance, and
as a suppliant at the knees of the brethren
sought with most earnest prayers to gain ad-
mission. And when he was at last with much
scorn admitted as a feeble old man who had
lived all his life in the world, and had asked
in his old age to be allowed to enter a Coeno-
bium when he could no longer gratify his
passions, — as they said that he was seeking
this not for the sake of religion but because
he was compelled by hunger and want, they
gave him the care and management of the
garden, as he seemed an old man and not
specially fitted for any particular work. And
this he performed under another and a younger
brother who kept him by him as intrusted to
him, and he was so subordinate to him, and
cultivated the desired virtue of humility so
obediently that he daily performed with the
utmost diligence not only everything that had
to do with the care and manasrement of the
garden, but also all those duties which were

' Cassian repeats this storj' in the Conferences XX. c. i., as an
introduction to the Conference " On the End of Penitence and the
Marks of Satisfaction," which he gives as the work of the said
Abbot Pinufius.

2 Panephysis is more fully described in the Conferences VII.
xxvi.; XI. iii.' It is mentioned by Ptolemy (IV. v. § 52), but not by
manv other ancient writers. It was situated in the Delta between
the Tanltic and IMendesian arms of the Nile, and was identified by
Champollion with the modern Menzaleh.

looked on by the other as hard and degrad-
ing, and disagreeable. Rising also by night
he did many things secretly, without any
one looking on or knowyig it, when darkness
concealed him so that no one could discover
the author of the deed. And when he had
hidden himself there for three years and had
been sought for high and low by the brethren
all through Egypt, he was at last seen by one
who had come from the parts of Egypt, but
could scarcely be recognized owing to the
meanness of his dress and the humble char-
acter of the duty he was performing. For he
was stooping down and hoeing the ground for
vegetables and bringing dung on his shoulders
and laying it about their roots. And seeing
this the brother for a longtime hesitated about
recognizing him, but at last he came nearer,
and taking careful note not only of his looks
but also of the tone of his voice, straightway
fell at his feet: and at first all who saw it were
struck with the greatest astonishment why he
should do this to one who was looked upon
by them as the lowest of all, as being a novice
and one who had but lately forsaken the world :
but afterwards they were struck with still
greater wonder when he forthwith announced
his name, which was one that had been well
known amongst them also by repute. And
all the brethren asking his pardon for their
former ignorance because they had for so long
classed him with the juniors and children,
brought him back to his own Coenobium,
against his will and in tears because by the
envy of the devil he had been cheated out of
a worthy mode of life and the humility which
he was rejoicing in having discovered after
his long search, and because he had not suc-
ceeded in ending his life in that state of sub-
jection which he had secured. And so they
guarded him with the utmost care lest he
should slip away again in the same sort of
way and escape from them also.

CHAPTER XXXI.

How when Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery
he stayed there for a little while and then fled again into the
regions of Syrian Palestine.

And when he had stopped there for a little
while, again he was seized with a longing and
desire for humility, and, taking advantage of
the silence of night, made his escape in such
a way that this time he sought no neighbouring
district, but regions which were unknown and
strange and separated by a wide distance.
For embarking in a ship he managed to travel
to Palestine, believing that he would more

230

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

securely lie hid if he betook himself to those
places in which his name had never been
heard. And when he had come thither, at
once he sought out our own monastery ^ which
was at no great distance from the cave- in
which our Lord vouchsafed to be born of a
virgin. And though he concealed himself
here for some time, yet like ''a city set on an
hill " ^ (to use our Lord's expression) he could
not long be hid. For presently some of the
brethren who had come to the holy places
from Egypt to pray there recognized him and
recalled him with most fervent prayers to his
own Ccenobium.

CHAPTER XXXIL

The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother
whom he admitted into his monastery in our presence.

This jM man, then, we afterwards diligently
sought out in Egypt because we had been in-
timate with him in our own monastery; and
I propose to insert in this work of mine an
exhortation which he gave in our presence to
a brother whom he admitted into the monas-
tery, because I think that it may be useful.
You know, said he, that after lying for so
many days at the entrance you are to-day to
be admitted. And to begin with you ought to
know the reason of the difficulty put in your
way. For it may be of great service to you
in this road on which you are desirous to
enter, if you understand the method of it and
approach the service of Christ accordingly,
and as you ought.

CHAPTER XXXni.

How it is that, just as a great reward is due to the monk who
labours according to the regulations of the fathers, so like-
wise punishment must be inflicted on an idle one ; and there-
fore no one should be admitted into a monastery too easily.

For as unbounded glory hereafter is prom-
ised to those who faithfully serve God and
cleave to Him according to the rule of this
system ; so the severest penalties are in store
for those who have carried it out carelessly
and coldly, and have failed to show to Him
fruits of holiness corresponding to what they
professed or what they were believed by men
to be. For "it is better," as Scripture says,
"that a man should not vow rather than that
he should vow and not pay;" and "Cursed is
he that doeth the work of the Lord care-

> On Cassian's connection with the monastery at Bethlehem, see
the IntrdtUiction.

- On the C"ave of the Nativity, see Justin Martyr Dialogue with
Trypho, c. Ixxviii. Origen against Celsus, I. c. li.

3 S. Matt. V. 14.

lessly." * Therefore you were for a long while
declined by us, not as if we did not desire
with all our hearts to secure your salvation and
the salvation of all, nor as if we did not care
to go to meet even afar off those who are long-
ing to be converted to Christ; but for fear
lest if we received you rashly we might make
ourselves guilty in the sight of God of levity,
and make you incur a yet heavier punishment,
if, when you had been too easily admitted by
us without realizing the responsibility of this
profession, you had afterwards turned out a
deserter or lukewarm. Wherefore you ought
in the first instance to learn the actual reason
for the renunciation of the world, and when
you have seen this, you can be taught more
plainly what you ought to do, from the reason
for it.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Of the way in which our renunciation is nothing but mortifica-
tion and the image of the Crucified.

Renunciation is nothing but the evidence
of the cross and of mortification. And so
you must know that to-day you are dead to this
world and its deeds and desires, and that, as
the Apostle says, you are crucified to this
world and this world to you.^ Consider there-
fore the demands of the cross under the sign*
of which you ought henceforward to live in
this life; because jv/^ no longer live but He
lives in you who was crucified for you." We
must therefore pass our time in this life in
that fashion and form in which He was cruci-
fied for us on the cross so that (as David
says) piercing our flesh with the fear of the
Lord,^ we may have all our wishes and desires
not subservient to our own lusts but fastened
to His mortification. For so shall we fulfil
the command of the Lord which says: "He
that taketh not up his cross and followeth me
is not worthy of me."^ But perhaps you will
say: How can a man carry his cross continu-
ally? or how can any one who is alive be cru-
cified? Hear briefly how this is.

CHAPTER XXXV.

How the fear of the Lord is our cross.

The fear of the Lord is our cross. As then
one who is crucified no longer has the power
of moving or turning his limbs in any direc-

« Eccl. V. 4 (LXX.); Jer. xlviii. 10 (LXX.).

E Cf. Gal. vi. 14.

•^ Sacramcntuni.

■> Cf. Gal. ii. 20.

8 Cf. Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 120, where the Gallican Psalter has " Con-
fige timore tuo carnes meas.''

9 S. Matt. X. jS.

BOOK IV.

231

tion as he pleases, so we also ought to afifix
our wishes and desires — not in accordance
with what is pleasant and delightful to us now,
but in accordance with the law of the Lord,
where it constrains us. And as he who is fas-
tened to the wood of the cross no longer con-
siders things present, nor thinks about his lik-
ings, nor is perplexed by anxiety and care for
the morrow, nor disturbed by any desire of
possession, nor inflamed by any pride or strife
or rivalry, grieves not at present injuries,
remembers not past ones, and while he is still
breathing in the body considers that he is dead
to all earthly things,^ sending the thoughts of
his heart on before to that place whither he
doubts not that he is shortly to come: so we
also, when crucified by the fear of the Lord
ought to be dead indeed to all these things, i.e.
not only to carnal vices but also to all earthly
things,^ having the eye of our minds fixed there
whither we hope at each moment that we are
soon to pass. For in this way we can have all
our desires and carnal affections mortified.

CHAPTER XXXVL

How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are
again entangled in those things which we have renounced.

Beware therefore lest at any time you take
again any of those things which you renounced
and forsook, and, contrary to the Lord's com-
mand, return from the field of evangelical
work, and be found to have clothed yourself
again in your coat which you had stripped off;"
neither sink back to the low and earthly lusts
and desires of this world, and in defiance
of Christ's word come down from the roof of
perfection and dare to take up again any
of those things which. you have renounced and
forsaken. Beware that you remember nothing
of your kinsfolk or of your former affections,
and that you are not called back to the cares
and anxieties of this world, and (as our Lord
says) putting your hand to the plough and
looking back be found unfit for the kingdom
of heaven.^ Beware lest at any time, when
you have begun to dip into the knowledge of
the Psalms and of this life, you be little by
little puffed up and think of reviving that
pride which now at your beginning you have
trampled under foot in the ardour of faith
and in fullest humility; and thus (as the
Apostle says) building again those things
which you had destroyed, you make yourself
a backslider.* But rather take heed to con-

1 Elementa.

2 Cf. S. Matt. xxiv.

3 S. Luke ix. 62.

4 Cf. Gal. ii. 18.

18,

tinue even to the end in that state of naked-
ness of which you made profession in the
sight of God and of his angels. In this hu-
mility too and patience, with which you per-
severed for ten days before the doors and
entreated with many tears to be admitted into
the monastery, you should not only continue
but also increase and go forward. For it is
too bad that when you ought to be carried on
from the rudiments and beginnings, and go
forward to perfection, you should begin to
fall back from these to worse things. For not
he who begins these things, but he who en-
dures in them to the end, shall be saved. ^

CHAPTER XXXVH.

How the 'levil always lies in wait for our end, and how we
ought continually to watch his head.'>

For the subtle serpent is ever "watching
our heel,'' that is, is lying in wait for the
close, and endeavouring to trip us up right to
the end of our life. And therefore it will not
be of any use to have made a good beginning
and to have eagerly taken the first step towards
renouncing the world with all fervour, if a
corresponding end does not likewise set it off
and conclude it, and if the humility and pov-
erty of Christ, of which you have now made
profession in His sight, are not preserved by
you even to the close of your life, as they were
first secured. And that you may succeed in
doing this, do you ever "watch his' head,"
i.e. the first rise of thoughts, by bringing them
at once to your superior. For thus you will
learn to "bruise" his dangerous beginnings,
if you are not ashamed to disclose any of them
to your superior.

CHAPTER XXXVni.

Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the
few who are worthy of imitation.

Wherefore, as Scripture says, "when you
go forth to serve the Lord stand in the fear
of the Lord, and prepare your mind " "^ not
for repose or carelessness or delights, but
for temptations and troubles. For "through
much tribulation m'c must enter into the king-
dom of God." For "strait is the gate and
narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and

5 Cf. S. Matt. xxiv. 13.

G All through this chapter Cassian is alluding to Gen. iii. 15 : "I
will put enmity between thee and the woman und between thy seed
and her seed ; it shalt bruise thy head and thou shalt bruise his
heel : " the last clause of which is rendered by the LXX. avro? aov
TTjpriafL K(if>a)^rfv Kai crv T7)p7;(T£i! aiiToO mipvav, where the Vulgate
has " Ipsa conteret caput tuum et tu insidiaberis calcaneo ejus."

7 Ecclus. ii. I.

232

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

few there be which find it." ^ Consider there-
fore that you belong to the few and elect ; and
do not grow cold after the examples of the
lukewarmness of many: but live as the few,
that with the few you may be worthy of a
place in the kingdom of God: for "many are
called, but few chosen," and it is a "little
flock to which it is the Father's good pleasure
to give " - an inheritance. You should there-
fore realize that it is no light sin for one who
has made profession of perfection to follow
after what is imperfect. And to this state of
perfection you may attain by the following
steps and in the following way.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Of the way in wliich we shall mount towards perfection, where-
by we may afterwards ascend from the fear of God up to
love.

"The beginning" of our salvation and the
safeguard of it is, as I said, "the fear of the
Lord."^ For through this those who are
trained in the way of perfection can gain a
start in conversion as well as purification
from vices and security in virtue. And when
this has gained an entrance into a man's heart
it produces contempt of all things, and begets
a forgetfulness of kinsfolk and an horror of the
world itself. But by the contempt for the
loss of all possessions humility is gained.
And humility is attested by these signs : First
of all if a man has all his desires mortified;
secondly, if he conceals none of his actions
or even of his thoughts from his superior;
thirdly, if he puts no trust in his own opinion,
but all in the judgment of his superior, and
listens eagerly and willingly to his directions;
fourthly, if he maintains in everything obedi-
ence and gentleness and constant patience;
fifthly, if he not only hurts nobody else, but
also is not annoyed or vexed at wrongs done
to himself; sixthly, if he does nothing and
ventures on nothing to which he is not urged
by the Common Rule or by the example of
our elders; seventhly, if he is contented with
the lowest possible position, and considers
himself as a bad workman and unworthy in
the case of everything enjoined to him;
eighthly, if he does not only outwardly pro-
fess with his lips that he is inferior to all, but
really believes it in the inmost thoughts of his
heart; ninthly, if he governs his tongue, and
is not over talkative; tenthly, if he is not
easily moved or too ready to laugh. For by
such signs and the like is true humility recog-
nised. And when this has once been genu-

1 Acts xiv. 22 ; S. Matt. vii. 14.

2 S. Matt. XX. 16; S. Luke xii. 32.

3 Prov. ix. lo.

inely secured, then at once it leads you on by
a still higher step to love which knows no fear ■*
and through this you begin, without any effort
and as it were naturally, to keep up everything
that you formerly observed not without fear
of punishment; no longer now from regard of
punishment or fear of it but from love of good-
ness itself, and delight in virtue.^

CHAPTER XL.

That the monk should seek for examples of perfection not
from many instances but from one or a very few.

And that you may the more easily arrive at
this, the examples of the perfect life of one
dwelling in the congregation, which you may
imitate, should be sought from a very few or
indeed from one or two only and not from too
many. For apart from the fact that a life
which is tested and refined and purified is only
to be found in a few, there is this also to be
gained, viz. : that a man is more thoroughly
instructed and formed by the example of some
one, towards the perfection which he sets before
him, viz. : that of the Coenobite life.

CHAPTER XLI.

The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Cceno-
bium ought to exhibit.6

And that you maybe able to attain all this,
and continually remain subject to this spiritual
rule, you must observe these three things in
the congregation: viz.: that as the Psalmist
says: "I was like a deaf man and heard not
and as one that is dumb who doth not open
his mouth; and I became as a man that hear-
eth not, and in whose mouth there are no
reproofs," "^ so you also should walk as one that
is deaf and dumb and blind, so that — putting
aside the contemplation. of him who has been
rightly chosen by you as your model of per-
fection— you should be like a blind man and
not see any of those things which you find
to be unedifying, nor^ be influenced by the
authority or fashion of those who do these
things, and give yourself up to what is worse
and what you formerly condemned. If you
hear any one disobedient or insubordinate or
disparaging another or doing anything differ-
ent from what was taught to you, you should
not go wrong and be led astray by such an

4 Cf. I John iv. iS.

5 Witli this chapter there should be conip.ired the Rule of S.
Benedict c. vii., wliere a verv similar descriinion is c;iven of twelve
grades "on the mystic ladder [of luunility] which Jacob saw,"
evidently snggcsted by the chapter before us.

6 Qiiarum debiliiatum similiiudinem siiscipere debent qui in
cccnobio commoratur. — Petscheiiis. The text of Gazajus eiyes as the
title of this chapter: " /« cons:regativne caonobitica constituti quid
tolerare ac sustinere dehrant.^'

1 Ps. xxxvii. (.xxxviii.) 14, 15.

8 Ntc CPetschenig). G.nzius reads ne.

BOOK V.

233

example to imitate him ; but, "like a deaf
man,"' as if you had never heard it, you should
pass it all by. If insults are offered to you
or to any one else, or wrongs done, be immov-
able, and as far as an answer in retaliation is
concerned be silent "as one that is dumb,"
alwavs siniring in vour heart this verse of the
Psalmist: " I said I will take heed to my ways
that I offend not with my tongue. I set a
guard to my mouth when the sinner stood be-
fore me. I was dumb and was humbled and
kept silence from good things. " ^ But cultivate
above everything this fourth thing which adorns
and graces those three of which we have spoken
above; viz.: make yourself, as the Apostle
directs,- a fool in this world that you may
become wise, exercising no discrimination
and judgment of your own on any of those
matters which are commanded to you, but
always showing obedience with all simplicity
and faith, judging that alone to be holy, use-
ful, and wise which God's law or the decision
of your superior declares to you to be such.
For built up on such a system of instruction
you may continue forever under this discipline,
and not fall away from the monastery in con-
sequence of any temptations or devices of the
enemy.

CHAPTER XLII.

How a monk should not look for the blessing of patience in his
own case as a result of the virtue of others, but rather as a
consequence of his own longsuffering.

You should therefore not look for patience
in your own case from the virtue of others,

thinking that then only can you secure it when
you are not irritated by any (for it is not in
your own power to prevent this from happen-
ing) ; but rather you should look for it as the
consequence of your own humility and long-
suffering which i/oes depend on your own will.

CHAPTER XLin.

Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up
towards perfection.

And in order that all these things which
have been set forth in a somewhat lengthy
discourse may be more easily stamped on your
heart and may stick in your thoughts with all
tenacity, I will make a summary of them so
that you may be able to learn all the changes
by heart by reason of their brevity and con-
ciseness. Hear then in few words how you
can mount up to the heights of perfection with-
out any effort or difficulty. "The beginning"
of our salvation and " of wisdom " is, according
to Scripture, "the fear of the Lord." ^ From
the fear of the Lord arises salutary compunc-
tion. From compunction of heart springs re-
nunciation, i.e. nakedness and contempt of all
possessions. From nakedness is begotten
humility; from humility the mortification of
desires. Through mortification of desires all
faults are extirpated and decay. By driving
out faults virtues shoot up and increase. By
the budding of virtues purity of heart is
gained. By purity of heart the perfection of
apostolic love is acquired.

BOOK V.

OF THE SPIRIT OF GLUTTONY.

CHAPTER L

The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle
against the eight principal faults.

This fifth book of ours is now by the help
of God to be produced. For after the four
books which have been composed on the cus-
toms of the monasteries, we now propose, be-
ing strengthened by God through your prayers,
to approach the struggle against the eight prin-

cipal faults, i.e. first, Gluttony or the pleasures
of the palate; secondly, Fo/nication; thirdly,
Covetousness, which means Avarice, or, as it
may more properly be called, the love of
money, fourthly. Anger; fifthly. Dejection;
sixthly, "Accidie," * which is heaviness or

1 Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 2, 3.

2 Cf. I Cor. iii. 18.

8 Ps. cxi. 10.

4 Acedia. It is much to be regretted that the old English word
" Accidie " has entirely dropped out of use. It is used by Chaucer
and other early writers for the sin of spiritual sloth or sluggishness.
See " The Persone's Tale," where it is thus described: " After the
sinne of wrath, now wol I speke of the sinne of accidie or sleuth:
for envie blindeth the herte of a man, and ire troubleth a man, and
accidie nxaketh him hevy, thoughtful, and wrawe. Envie and ire

234

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

weariness of heart; seventhly, yfvoih^la which
means foolish or vain glory, eighthly, pride.
And on entering upon this difficult task we
need your prayers, O most blessed Pope Cas-
tor, more than ever; that we may be enabled
in the first place worthily to investigate the
nature of these in all points however trifling
or hidden or obscure: and next to explain
with sufficient clearness the causes of them;
and thirdly to bring forward fitly the cures and
remedies for them.

CHAPTER II.

How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody,
are ignored by everybody ; and how we need the Lord's help
to make them plain.

And of these passions as the occasions are
recognized by everybody as soon as they are
laid open by the teaching of the elders, so
before they are revealed, although we are all
overcome by them, and they exist in every one,
yet nobody knows of them. But we trust that
we shall be able in some measure to explain
them, if by your prayers that word of the
Lord, which was announced by Isaiah, may
apply to us also — ''I will go before thee, and
bring low the mighty ones of the land, I will
break the gates of brass, and cut asunder the
iron bars, and I will open to thee concealed
treasures and hidden secrets " ^ — so that the
word of the Lord may go before us also, and
first may bring low the mighty ones of our
land, i.e. these same evil passions which we
are desirous to overcome, and which claim
for themselves dominion and a most horrible
tyranny in our mortal body; and may make
them yield to our investigation and expla-
nation, and thus breaking the gates of our
ignorance, and cutting asunder the bars of
vices which shut us out from true knowledge,
may lead to the hidden things of our secrets,
and reveal to us who have been illuminated,
according to the Apostle's word, "the hidden
things of darkness, and may make manifest

maken bitternesse in herte, which bitternesse is mother of accidie, and
benimeth him the love of alia goodnesse ; than is accidie the an-
guish of a troubled herte." The English word lingered on till
the stjventeentli century, as it is used by l?ishnp Hall(Serm.V.
140), in the form "Acedy," which is etymologically more correct
as being nearer the Latin Acedia and the (Ireek 'A/ti)6ia, a
word wliich occurs in the LXX. version of the Old Testament
in Isaiah Ixi. 3; Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 28; Haruch iii. i ; Ecclus.
xxix. 6 (cf. the use of the verb <i>c>)6ia^u» in Ps. Ix. (Ixi.) 2 ;
ci. (cii.) 1; cxhi. (cxliii.)4; Ecclus. xxii. 14). In ecclesiastical
writers the term Acedia is a favourite one to denote primarilv the
mental prostiation induced by fasting and other physical causes, and
afterwards spiritual sloth and sluggishness in general. It forms the
subject of the tenth book of the Institutes, and is treated of again by
Cassian in the Conferences V. iii. sq.; cf. also the " Sumnia " of .S.
Thomas, 1 1 . ii. q. xxxv. , where there is a full discussion of its nature
and character. — cf. Dr. Paget's essay "Concerning Accidie" in
" The Spirit of Discipline."
1 Isa. xlv. 2, 3.

the counsels of the hearts," ^ that thus pene-
trating with pure eyes of the mind to the foul
darkness of vices, we may be able to dis-
close them and drag them forth to light; and
may succeed in explaining their occasions and
natures to those who are either free from them,
or are still tied and bound by them, and so
passing as the prophet says,^ through the fire
of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we
may be able forthwith to pass also through
the water of virtues which extinguish them
unharmed, and being bedewed (as it were)
with spiritual remedies may be found worthy
to be brought in purity of heart to the conso-
lations of perfection.

CHAPTER in.

How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony,
i.e. the pleasures of the palate.

And so the first conflict we must enter
upon is that against gluttony, which we have
explained as the pleasures of the palate : and
in the first place as we are going to speak of
the system of fasts, and the quality of food,
we must again recur to the traditions and
customs of the Egyptians, as everybody knows
that they contain a more advanced discipline
in the matter of self-control, and a perfect
method of discrimination.

CHAPTER IV.

The testimony of Abbot Antony in which be teaches that each
virtue ought to be sought for from him who professes it in a
special degree.

For it is an ancient and excellent saying of
the blessed Antony ^ that when a monk is en-
deavouring after the plan of the monastic life
to reach the heights of a more advanced
perfection, and, having learned the considera-
tion of discretion, is able now to stand in his
own judgment, and to arrive at the very
summit of the anchorite's life, he ought by
no means to seek for all kinds of virtues from
one man however excellent. For one is
adorned with flowers of knowledge, another
is more strongly fortified with methods of
discretion, another is established in the dig-
nity of patience, another excels in the virtue
of humility, another in that of continence,
another is decked with the grace of simplicity.

2 I Cor. iv. 5.

3 Ps. Ixv. (Ixvi.) 12.

* S. Antony, the " foimdcr of asceticism " and one of the most
famous of the early monks, was born about 250 a.d. at Coma, on
the borders of Egypt, and died about 355, at the great age of 105.
He is frequently mentioned by Cassian in the Conferences.

BOOK V.

235

This one excels all others in magnanimity,
that one in pity, another in vigils, another
in silence, another in earnestness of work.
And tlierefore the monk who desires to gather
spiritual honey, ought like a most careful bee,
to suck out virtue from those who specially
possess it, and should diligently store it up
in the vessel of his own breast: nor should he
investigate what any one is lacking in, but
only regard and gather whatever virtue he has.
For if we want to gain all virtues from some
one person, we shall with great difficulty or
perhaps never at all find suitable examples for
us to imitate. For though we do not as yet
see that even Christ is made "all things in
all," as the Apostle says;' still in this way
we can find Him bit by bit in all. For it is said
of Him, "Who was made of God to you wis-
dom and righteousness and sanctification and
redemption."- While then in one there is
found wisdom, in another righteousness, in
another sanctification, in another kindness,
in another chastity, in another humility, in
another patience, Christ is at the present time
divided, member by member, among all of
the saints. But when all come together into
the unity of the faith and virtue, He is formed
into the "perfect man," ^ completing the ful-
ness of His body, in the joints and proper-
ties of all His members. Until then that time
arrives when God will be "all in all," for
the present God can in the way of which we
have spoken be "in all," through particular
virtues, although He is not yet "all in all"
through the fuhiess of them. For although
our religion has but one end and aim, yet
there are different ways by which we ap-
proach God, as will be more fully shown in
the Conferences of the Elders.'* And so we
must seek a model of discretion and con-
tinence more particularly from those from
whom we see that those virtues flow forth
more abundantly through the grace of the
Holy Spirit; not that any one can alone ac-
quire those things which are divided among
many, but in order that in those good quali-
ties of which we are capable we may advance
towards the imitation of those who especially
have acquired them.

CHAPTER V.

That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by
everybody.

And so on the manner of fasting a uniform
rule cannot easily be observed, because every-
body has not the same strength; nor is it

1 I Cor. XV. 2?. 2 I Cor. i. 30. 3 Eph. iv. 13.

i See especially Conferences XVIII. and XIX.

like the rest of the virtues, acquired by stead-
fastness of mind alone. And therefore, be-
cause it does not depend only on mental
firmness, since it has to do with the possibili-
ties of the body, we have received this ex-
planation concerning it which has been handed
down to us, viz. : that there is a difference of
time, manner, and quality of the refreshment
in proportion to the difference of condition of
the body, the age, and sex : but that there is
one and the same rule of restraint to every-
body as regards continence of mind, and the
virtue of the spirit. For it is impossible for
every one to prolong his fast for a week, or
to postpone taking refreshment during a two
or three days' abstinence. By many people
also who are worn out with sickness and
especially with old age, a fast even up to sun-
set cannot be endured without suffering. The
sickly food of moistened beans does not agree
with everybody: nor does a sparing diet of
fresh vegetables suit all, nor is a scanty meal
of dry bread permitted to all alike. One man
does not feel satisfied vvith two pounds, for
another a meal of one pound, or six ounces,
is too much; but there is one aim and object
of continence in the case of all of these, viz. :
that no one may be overburdened beyond the
measure of his appetite, by gluttony. For it
is not only the quality, but also the quantity
of food taken which dulls the keenness of the
mind, and when the soul as well as the flesh
is surfeited, kindles the baneful and fiery in-
centive to vice.

CHAPTER VI.

That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone.

The belly when filled with all kinds of food
gives birth to seeds of wantonness, nor
can the mind, when choked with the weight
of food, keep the guidance and government of
the thoughts. For not only is drunkenness
with wine wont to intoxicate the mind, but
' excess of all kinds of food makes it weak and
uncertain, and robs it of all its pov/er of pure
and clear contemplation. The cause of the
overthrow and wantonness of Sodom was not
drunkenness through wine, but fulness of bread.
Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the
prophet. "For how did thy sister Sodom sin,
except in that she ate her bread in fulness and
abundance? " ^ And because through fulness
of bread they were inflamed with uncontrol-
lable lust of the flesh, they were burnt up by
the judgment of God with fire and brimstone
from heaven. But if excess of bread alone

S Ezek. xvi. 49-

!36

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

drove them to such a headlong downfall into
sin through the vice of satiety, what shall we
think of those who with a vigorous body dare
to partake of meat and wine with unbounded
licence, taking not just what their bodily
frailty demands, but what the eager desire of
the mind suggests.

CHAPTER VII.

How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart.

Bodily weakness is no hindrance to purity
of heart, if only so much food is taken as the
bodily weakness requires, and not what pleas-
ure asks for. It is easier to find men who
altogether abstain from the more fattening
kinds of foods than men who make a moderate
use of what is allowed to our necessities; and
men who deny themselves everything out of
love of continence than men who taking food
on the plea of weakness preserve the due
measure of what is sufficient.^ For bodily
weakness has its glory of self-restraint, where
though food is permitted to the failing body,
a man deprives himself of his refreshment,
although he needs it, and only indulges in
just so much food as the strict judgment of
temperance decides to be sufficient for the
necessities of life, and not what the longing
appetite asks for. The more delicate foods,
as they conduce to bodily health, so they
need not destroy the purity of chastity, if they
are taken in moderation. For whatever
strength " is gained by partaking of them is
used up in the toil and waste of care. Where-
fore as no state of life can be deprived of the
virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown
of perfection denied.

CHAPTER VIII.

How food should be taken with regard to the aim at perfect
continence.3

And so it is a very true and most excellent
saying of the Fathers that the right method
of fasting and abstinence lies in the measure

1 Petschenig's text in this passage is as follows: " Facilius vidi-
mus viros qui ab esciscorpuleutioribus omni:iiodis temperarcnt, quam
moderate uses i)ro necessitate concessis, et qui totum sibi pro amore
continentia; denegarent, quam qui eas sub infirmitatis occasioiie
sumentes meusurain sufficientia; custndirent." Gazajus gives some-
thing quite different: " Facilius vidimus victos qui ab esciscorpuleu-
tioribus omnimodis temperarcnt, quas moderate usus pro necessitate
concedit, et qui totum sibi pro continentiae amore denegarent ; quam
qui eas sub mfirmitatis occasione sumentes mensuram sufficientis
custodirent."

'i Quidquld efthn fortitudinis. — Petschenig. Gazjeus has "Quid
quid erihii/ortitudinis cnusn."

■i Quod pro perfectes continentia- fine esca sumenda sit. — Pet-
schenig. Qiiomodo cibum appetere, ac sumere liceat is the title as
given by Gazsus.

of moderation and bodily chastening; and
that this is the aim of perfect virtue for all
alike, viz. : that though we are still forced to
desire it, yet we should exercise self-restraint
in the matter of the food, which we are obliged
to take owing to the necessity of supporting
the body. For even if one is weak in body,
he can attain to a perfect virtue and one equal
to that of those who are thoroughly strong and
healthy, if with firmness of mind he keeps a
check upon the desires and lusts which are
not due to weakness of the flesh. For the
Apostle says: "And take not care for the flesh
in its lusts." ^ He does not forbid care for it
in every respect : but says that care is not to
be taken in regard to its desires and lusts.
He cuts away the luxurious fondness for the
flesh : he does not exclude the control neces-
sary for life: he does the former, lest through
pampering the flesh we should be involved in
dangerous entanglements of the desires; the
latter lest the body should be injured by our
fault and unable to fulfil its spiritual and ne-
cessary duties.

CHAPTER IX.

Of the measure of the chastisment to be undertaken, and the
remedy of fasting.

The perfection then of abstinence is not to
be gathered from calculations of time alone, nor
only from the quality of the food; but beyond
everything from the judgment of conscience.
For each one should impose such a sparing
diet on himself as the battle of his bodily
struggle may require. The canonical obser-
vance of fasts is indeed valuable and by all
means to be kept. But unless this is followed
by a temperate partaking of food, one will not
be able to arrive at the goal of perfection.
For the abstinence of prolonged fasts — where
repletion of body follows — produces weari-.
ness for a time rather than purity and chastity.
Perfection of mind indeed depends upon the
abstinence of the belly. He has no lasting
purity and chastity, who is not contented
always to keep to a well-balanced and temper-
ate diet. Fasting, although severe, yet if
unnecessary relaxation follows, is rendered
useless, and presently leads to the vice of
gluttony. A reasonable supply of food par-
taken of daily with moderation, is better than
a severe and long fast at intervals. Excessive
fasting has been known not only to undermine
the constancy of the mind, but also to weaken
the power of prayers through sheer weariness
of body.

4 Rom. xiii. 14.

BOOK V.

237

CHAPTER X.

That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preser-
vation of bodily and mental purity.

In order to preserve the mind and body in
a perfect condition abstinence from food is
not alone sufticient: unless the other virtues
of the mind as well are joined to it. And so
humility must first be learned by the virtue of
obedience, and grinding toil ^ and bodily ex-
haustion. The possession of money must not
only be avoided, but the desire for it must be
utterlv rooted out. For it is not enough not
to possess it, — a thing which comes to many
as a matter of necessity: but we ought, if by
chance it is offered, not even to admit the
w/s/i to have it. The madness of anger should
be controlled; the downcast look of dejec-
tion be overcome; vainglory should be de-
spised, the disdainfulness of pride trampled
under foot, and the shifting and wandering
thoughts of the mind restrained by continual
recollection of God. And the slippery wan-
derings of our heart should be brought back
again to the contemplation of God as often
as our crafty enemy, in his endeavour to
lead away the mind a captive from this con-
sideration, creeps into the innermost recesses
of the heart.

CHAPTER XL

That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire
rooting out of vice.

For it is an impossibility that the fiery
motions of the body can be extinguished, be-
fore the incentives of the other chief vices are-
utterly rooted out: concerning which we will
speak in their proper place, if God permits,
separately, in different books. But now we
have to deal with Gluttony, that is the desire
of the palate, against which our first battle is.
He then will never be able to check the mo-
tions of a burning lust, who cannot restrain the
desires of the appetite. The chastity of the
inner man is shown by the perfection of this
virtue. For you will never feel sure that he
can strive against the opposition of a stronger
enemy, whom you have seen overcome by
weaker ones in a higher conflict. For of all
virtues the nature is but one and the same,
although they appear to be divided into many
different kinds and names: just as there is
but one substance of gold, although it may

1 Operis contritions (Petschenig) : cordis contritione (Gazaeus).

seem to be distributed through many different
kinds of jewelry according to the skill of the
goldsmith. And so he is proved to possess
no virtue perfectly, who is known to have
broken down in some part of them. For how
can we believe that that man has extinguished
the burning heats of concupiscence (which are
kindled not only by bodily incitement but by
vice of the mind), who could not assuage the
sharp stings of anger which break out from
intemperance of heart alone ? Or how can we
think that he has repressed the wanton desires
of the flesh and spirit, who has not been able
to conquer the simple fault of pride? Or how
can we believe that one has trampled under
foot a wantonness which is ingrained in the
flesh, who has not been able to disown the
love of money, which is something external
and outside our own substance? In what way
will he triumph in the war of flesh and spirit,
who has not been man enough to cure the
disease of dejection? However great a city
may be protected by the height of its walls
and the strength of its closed gates, yet it is.
laid waste by the giving up of one postern
however small. For what difference does it
make whether a dangerous foe makes his way
into the heart of the city over high \\'alls, and
through the wide spaces of the gate, or through
secret and narrow passages?

CHAPTER XIL

That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from
the carnal contests.

"One who strives in the games is not
crowned unless he has contended lawfully."^
One who wants to extinguish the natural
desires of the flesh, should first hasten to
overcome those vices whose seat is outside
our nature. For if we desire to make trial of
the force of the Apostle's saying, we ought first
to learn what are the* laws and what the disci-
pline of the world's contest, so that finally by
a comparison with these, we may be able to
know what the blessed Apostle meant to teach
to us who are striving in a spiritual contest
by this illustration. For in these conflicts,
which, as the same Apostle says, hold out "a
corruptible crown" ^ to the victors, this rule is
kept, that he who aims at preparing himself
for the crown of glory, which is embellished
with the privilege of exemption, and who is
anxious to enter the highest struggle in the

2 2 Tim. ii. 5.

3 I Cor. ix. 25.

>38

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

contest should first in the Olympic and Pyth-
ian games give evidence of his abilities as a
youth, and his strength in its first beginnings;
since in these the younger men who want to
practise this training are tested as to whether
they deserve or ought to be admitted to it, by
the' judgment both of the president of the
games and of the whole multitude. And when
any one has been carefully tested, and has first
been proved to be stained by no infamy of life,
and then has been adjudged not ignoble
through the yoke of slavery, and for this ]
reason unworthy to be admitted to this train- *
ing and to the company of those who practise
it, and when thirdly he produces sufficient
evidence of his ability and prowess and by
striving with the younger men and his own
compeers has shown both his skill and valour
as a youth, and going forward from the con-
tests of boys has been by the scrutiny of the
president permitted to mix with full-grown
men and those of approved experience, and
has not only shown himself their equal in
"valour by constant striving with them, but has
also many a time carried off the prize of vic-
tory among them, then at last he is allowed to
approach the most illustrious conflict of the
games, permission to contend in which is
granted to none but victors and those who are
decked with many crowns and prizes. If we
understand this illustration from a carnal
contest, we ought by a comparison with it to
know what is the system and method of our
spiritual conflict as well.

CHAPTER XIII.

That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we
have been set free from the vice of gluttony.

We also ought first to give evidence of our
freedom from subjection to the flesh. For
" of whom a man is overcome, of the same is
he the slave." ^ And " every one that doeth sin
is the slave of sin."^ And when the scrutiny
of the president of the contest finds that we
are stained by no infamy of disgraceful lust,
and when we are judged by him not to be
slaves of the flesh, and ignoble and unworthy
of the Olympic struggle against our vices,
then we shall be able to enter the lists against
our equals, that is the lusts of the flesh and
the motions and disturbances of the soul.
For it is impossible for a full belly to make
trial of the combat of the inner man: nor is
he worthy to be tried in harder battles, who
can be overcome in a slight skirmish.

CHAPTER XIV.

How gluttonous desires can be overcome.

First then we must trample underfoot glut-
tonous desires, and to this end the mind must
be reduced not only by fasting, but also by
vigils, by reading, and by frequent compunc-
tion of heart for those things in which perhaps
it recollects that it has been deceived or over-
come, sighing at one time with horror at sin,
at another time inflamed with the desire of
perfection and saintliness: until it is fully
occupied and possessed by such cares and
meditations, and recognizes the participation
of food to be not so much a concession to
pleasure, as a burden laid upon it; and con-
siders it to be rather a necessity for the body
than anything desirable for the soul. And,
preserved by this zeal of mind and continual
compunction, we shall beat down the wanton-
ness of the flesh (which becomes more proud
and haughty by being fomented wdth food)
and its dangerous incitement, and so by the
copiousness of our tears and the weeping of
our heart w-e shall succeed in extinguishing
the fiery furnace of our body, which is kindled
by the Babylonish king^ who continually fur-
nishes us with opportunities for sin, and vices
with which we burn more fiercely, instead of
naphtha and pitch — until, through the grace
of God, instilled like dew by His Spirit in
our hearts, the heats of fleshly lusts can be
altogether deadened. This then is our first
contest, this is as it were our first trial in the
Olympic games, to extinguish the desires of
the palate and the belly by the longing for
perfection. On which account we must not
only trample down all unnecessary desire for
food by the contemplation of the virtues,
but also must take what is necessary for the
support of nature, not without anxiety of heart,
as if it were opposed to chastity. And so at
length we may enter on the course of our life,
so that there may be no time in which we feel
that we are recalled from our spiritual studies,
further than when we are obliged by the weak-
ness of the body to descend for the needful
care of it. And when we are subjected to
this necessity — of attending to the wants of
life rather than the desires of the soul — we
should hasten to withdraw as quickly as pos-
sible from it, as if it kept us back from really
health-giving studies. For we cannot pos-
sibly scorn the gratification of food presented
to us, unless the mind is fixed on the contem-
plation of divine things, and is the rather

1 2 Pet. ii. 19.

2 John viii. 34.

3 Cf. Dan. iii.6; and see below Book VI. c. xyii. where Cassian
once more speaks of the devil as the Babylonish king.

BOOK V.

239

entranced with the love of virtue and the
delight of things celestial. And so a man
will despise all things present as transitory,
when he has securely fixed his mental gaze on
those things which are immovable and eternal,
and already contemplates in heart — though
still in the flesh — the blessedness of his
future life.

CHAPTER XV.

How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of

heart.

It is like the case when one endeavours to
strike some mighty prize of virtue on high
pointed out by some very small mark; with
the keenest eyesight he points the aim of his
dart, knowing that large rewards of glory and
prizes depend on his hitting it; and he
turns away his gaze from every other consid-
eration, and must direct it thither, where he
sees that the reward and prize is placed, be-
cause he would be sure to lose the prize of his
skill and the reward of his prowess if the
keenness of his gaze should be diverted ever
so little.^

CHAPTER XVI.

How, after tlie fashion of the Olympic games, a monk should
not attempt spiritual conflicts unless he has won battles over
the flesh.

And so when the desires of the belly and of
the palate have been by these considerations
overcome, and when we have been declared,
as in the Olympic contests, neither slaves of
the flesh nor infamous through the brand of sin,
we shall be adjudged to be worthy of the con-
test in higher struggles as well, and, leaving
behind lessons of this kind, may be believed
capable of entering the lists against spiritual
wickednesses, against which only victors and
those who are allowed to contend in a spiritual
conflict are deemed worthy to struggle. For
this is so to speak a most solid foundation of
all the conflicts, viz. : that in the first instance
the impulses of carnal desires should be
destroyed. For no one can lawfully strive
unless his own flesh has been overcome. And
one who does not strive lawfully certainly
cannot take a share in the contest, nor win a
crown of glory and the grace of victory. But
if we have been overcome in this battle, hav-
ing been proved as it were slaves of carnal
lusts, and thus displaying the tokens neither of

1 Compare a similar illustration in the Conferences I. v.

freedom nor of strength, we shall be straight-
way repulsed from the conflicts with spiritual
hosts, as unworthy and as slaves, with every
mark of confusion. For " every one that doeth
sin is the servant of sin." "^ And this will be
addressed to us by the blessed Apostle, to-
gether with those among whom fornication is
named. "Temptation does not overtake you,
e.vcept such as is human." ^ For if we do not
seek for strength of mind * we shall not deserve
to make trial of severer contest against wicked-
ness on high, if we have been unable to sub-
due our weak flesh which resists the spirit.
And some not understanding this testimony of
the Apostle, have read the subjunctive instead
of the indicative mood, i.e., " Let no tempta-
tion overcome you, except such as is human." ^
But it is clear that it is rather said by him
with the meaning not of a wish but of a dec-
laration or rebuke.

CHAPTER XVII.

That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be
laid in the struggle against gluttony.

Would you like to hear a true athlete of
Christ striving according to the rules and
laws of the conflict? "I," said he, "so run,
not as uncertainly; I so fight, not as one that
beateth the air: but I chastise my body and
bring it into subjection, lest by any means when
I have preached to others I myself should be a
castaway." ^ You see how he made the chief
part of the struggle depend upon himself, that is
upon his flesh, as if on a most sure foundation,
and placed the result of the battle simply in
the chastisement of the flesh and the subjec-
tion of his body. " I then so run not as un-
certainly." He does not run uncertainly,
because,^ looking to the heavenly Jerusalem,
he has a mark set, towards which his heart is
swiftly directed without swerving. He does
not run uncertainly, because, "forgetting those
things which are behind, he reaches forth to
those that are before, pressing towards the
mark for the prize of the high calling of God
in Christ Jesus," * whither he ever directs his
mental gaze, and hastening towards it with
all speed ® of heart, proclaims with confidence,
" I have fought a good fight, I have finished

2 S. John viii. 34.

3 I Cor. X. 13.

4 Mentis robore non qjicesito. — Petschenig. Gazjeus omits the
negative and reads couqjiisito.

5 .S. Jerome's version, which was certainly known to Cassian (of.
Conferences XXIII. viii.) has " Temptatio vos non apprehendat
nisi humana."

6 I Cor. ix. 26, 27.

7 (2»M (^Petschenig) : ^k/ (GazsBus).

8 Phil. iii. 13, .4. ^

9 Properatione, others PnEfaratione.

!40

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

my course, I have kept the faith. "^ And
because he knows he has run unweariedly
'• after the odour of the ointment " ^ of Christ
with ready devotion of heart, and has won the
battle of the spiritual combat by the chastise-
ment of the flesh, he boldly concludes and says,
'' Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown
of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous
judge, will give to me in that day." And that
he might open up to us also 'a like hope of
reward, if we desire to imitate him in the
struggle of his course, he added: "But not to
me only, but to all also who love His com-
ing ; " ^ declaring that we shall be sharers of his
crown in the day of judgment, if we love the
coming of Christ — not that one only which
will be manifest to men even against their
will; but also this one which dailv comes to
pass in holy souls — and if we gain the victory
in the fight by chastising the body. And of
this coming it is that the Lord speaks in the
Gospel. "I," says He, "and my Father will
come to him, and will make our abode with
him.'" * And again: "Behold, I stand at the
door and knock : if any man hear my voice and
open the gate, I will come in to him and will
sup with him, and he with me." ^

CHAPTER XVni.

Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which
the blessed Apostle ascended to the crown of the highest
combat.

But he does not mean that he has only
finished the contest of a race when he says " I
so run, not as uncertainly " (a. phrase which
has more particularly to do with the intention
of the mind and fervour of his spirit, in which
he followed Christ with all zeal, crying out
with the Bride, "We will run after thee for
the odour of thine ointments;"^ and again,
" My soul cleaveth unto thee:"'^ but he also
testifies that he has conquered in another kind
of contest, saying, " So fight I, not as one that
beateth the air, but I chastise my body and
bring it into subjection." And this properly
has to do with the pains of abstinence, and
bodily fasting and affliction of the flesh: as he
means by this that he is a vigorous bruiser of
his own fiesh, and points out that not in vain
has he planted his blows of continence against
it; but that he has gained a battle triumph by
mortifying his own body; for when it is chas-
tised with the blows of continence and struck
down with the boxing-gloves of fasting, he has

1 2 Tim. iv. 7.

2 Cant. i. 3.

3 2 Tim. IV. 8.
■* Joliii xiv. 23.

5 Rev. iii. 20.

6 Cant. i. ^.

7 Ps. Ixii. (Ixiii.) 9.

secured for his victorious spirit the crown
of immortality and the prize of incorruption.
You see the orthodox method of the contest,
and consider the issue of spiritual combats:
how the athlete of Christ having gained a
victory over the rebellious fiesh, having cast
it as it were under his feet, is carried forward
as triumphing on high. And therefore "he
does not run uncertainly," because he trusts
that he will forthwith enter the holy city, the
heavenly Jerusalem. He "so fights," that is
with fasts and humiliation of the flesh, "not
as one that beateth the air," that is, striking
into space with blows of continence, through
which he struck not the empty air, but those
spirits who inhabit it, by the chastisement of
his body. For one who says "not as one that
beateth the air," shows that he strikes — not
empty and void air, but certain beings in the
I air. And because he had overcome in this
! kind of contest, and marched on enriched with
'• the rewards of many crowns, not undeservedly
does he begin to enter the lists against still
more powerful foes, and having triumphed over
his former rivals, he boldly makes proclama-
tion and says, " Now our striving is not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against world-rulers of this
darkness, against spiritual wickedness in
heavenly places." *

CHAPTER XIX.

That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is
never without a battle.

The athlete of Christ, as long as he is in
the "body, is never in want of a victory to
be gained in contests: but in proportion as
he grows by triumphant successes, so does a
severer kind of struggle confront him. For
when the flesh is subdued and conquered,
what swarms of foes, what hosts of enemies
are incited by his triumphs and rise up against
the victorious soldier of Christ ! for fear lest
in the ease of peace the soldier of Christ might
relax his efforts and begin to forget the glori-
ous struggles of his contests, and be rendered
slack through the idleness which is caused by
immunity from danger, and be cheated of the
reward of his prizes and the recompense of his
triumphs. And so if we want to rise with ever-
growing virtue to these stages of triumph we
ought also in the same way to enter the lists of
battle and begin by saying with the Apostle:
" I so fight, not as one that beateth the air,
but I chastise my body and bring it into sub-

8 Eph. vi. 12.

BOOK V

241

jection,"! that when this conflict is ended
we may once more be able to say with him:
"we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but
against principalities, against powers, against
world-rulers of this darkness, against spiritual
wickedness in heavenly places." ^ For other-
wise we cannot possibly join battle with them
nor deserve to make trial of spiritual combats
if we are baffled in a carnal contest, and smit-
ten down in a struggle with the belly: and
deservedly will it be said of us by the Apostle
in the language of blame: "Temptation does
not overtake you, except what is common to

man.

" 3

CHAPTER XX.

How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking
food, if he wants to proceed to the struggle of interior
conflicts.

A MONK therefore who wants to proceed to
the struggle of interior conflicts should lay
down this as a precaution for himself to begin
with: viz. : that he will not in any case allow
himself to be overcome by any delicacies, or
take anything to eat or drink before the fast*
iis over and the proper hour for refreshment
has come, outside meal times; ^ nor, when the
meal is over, wdll he allow himself to take a
morsel however small; and likewise that he
will observe the canonical time and measure
of sleep. For that self-indulgence must be
cut off in the same way that the sin of un-
chastity has to be rooted out. For if a man
is unable to check the unnecessary desires of
the appetite how will he be able to extinguish
the fire of carnal lust? And if a man is not
able to control passions, which are openly
manifest and are but small, how will he be
able with temperate discretion to fight against
those which are secret, and excite him, when
none are there to see ? And therefore strength
of mind is tested in separate impulses and in
any sort of passion : and if it is overcome in
the case of very small and manifest desires,
how it will endure in those that are really
great and poAverful and hidden, each man's
conscience must witness for himself.

1 I Cor. ix. 26, 27.

2 Eph. vi. 12.

3 I Cor. X. 13.

4 Statio. This is properly the term for the weekly fasts on Wed-
nesday and Friday, observed by the early Church in memory of our
Lord's betrayal and crucifixion. See TertuUian on Prayer c. xix. ;
on Fasting c. i. x. In this place the word appears to be used by
Cassian for the close of the fast ; while elsewhere he uses it for fast-
ing generally (not specially on Wednesday and Friday,) as in c. xxiv.
of the present book, and in the Conferences, II. xxv. ; XXI. xxi.
The origin of the word is somewliat uncertain (a) because the fast
was observed on stated days {statis diehts) \ or (b), as S. Ambrose
suggests, because " our fasts are our encampments which protect us
from the devil's attacks : in short, they are called stationes, because
standing {siantes) and staying in them we repel our plotting foe "
(Serm. 25). See Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 1928.

5 Extra mensam.

CHAPTER XXI.

Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence.

For it is not an external enemy whom we
have to dread. Our foe is shut up within
ourselves: an internal warfare is daily waged
by us: and if we are victorious in this, all
external things v.'ill be made weak, and every-
thing will be made peaceful and subdued for
the soldier of Christ. We shall have no ex-
ternal enemy to fear, if what is within is over-
come and subdued to the spirit. And let us
not believe that that external fast from visible
food alone can possibly be sufficient for per-
fection of heart and purity of body unless
with it there has also been united a fast of
the soul. For the soul also has its foods
which are harmful, fattened on which, even
without superfluity of meats, it is involved in
a downfall of wantonness. Slander is its food,
and indeed one that is very dear to it. A
burst of anger also is its food, even if it be a
very slight one; yet supplying it with miser-
able food for an hour, and destroying it as
well with its deadly savour. Envy is a food
of the mind, corrupting it with its poisonous
juices and never ceasing to make it wretched
and miserable at the prosperity and success
of another. Kenodoxia, i.e., vainglory is its
food, which gratifies it with a delicious meal
for a time; but afterwards strips it clear and
bare of all virtue, and dismisses it barren and
void of all spiritual fruit, so that it makes it
not only lose the rewards of huge labours, but
also makes it incur heavier punishments. All
lust and shifty wanderings of heart are a sort
of food for the soul, nourishing it on harmful
meats, but leaving it afterwards without share
of the heavenly bread and of really solid food.
If then, with all the powers we have, we ab-
stain from these in a most holy fast, our obser-
vance of the bodily fast will be both useful
and profitable. For labour of the flesh, when
joined with contrition of the spirit, will pro-
duce a sacrifice that is most acceptable to
God, and a worthy shrine of holiness in the
pure and undefiled inmost chambers of the
heart. But if, while fasting as far as the body
is concerned, we are entangled in the most
dangerous vices of the soul, our humiliation
of the flesh will do us no good whatever, while
the most precious part of us is defiled: since
we go wrong through that substance by virtue
of which we are made a shrine of the Holy
Ghost. For it is not so much the corruptible
flesh as the clean heart, which is made a
shrine for God, and a temple of the Holy
Ghost. We ought therefore, whenever the
outward man fasts, to restrain the inner man

242

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

as well from food which is bad for him : that ^
inner man, namely, which the blessed Apostle |
above all urges us to present pure before God, \
that it may be found worthy to receive Christ
as a guest within, saying "'that in the inner
man Christ may dwell in your hearts through
faith." 1

CHAPTER XXIL

That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence that
we may by it attain to a spiritual fast.

And so we know that we ought therefore to
bestow attention on bodily abstinence, that we
may by this fasting attain to purity of heart.
Otherwise our labours will be spent in vain, if
we endure this without weariness, in contem-
plating the end, but are unable to reach the
end for which we have endured such trials;
and it would have been better to have ab-
stained from the forbidden foods of the soul,
than to have fasted with the body from things
indifferent and harmless, for in the case of
these latter there is a simple and harmless
reception of a creature of God, which in itself
has nothing wrong about it: but in the case
of the former there is at the very first a danger-
ous tendency to devour the brethren ; of which
it is said, " Do not love backbiting lest thou
be rooted out."^ And concerning anger and
jealousy the blessed Job says: "For anger
slayeth a fool, and envy killeth a child. " ^ And
at the same time it should be noticed that he
who is angered is set down as a fool; and
he who is jealous, as a child. For the former
is not undeservedly considered a fool, since of
his own accord he brings death upon himself,
being goaded by the stings of anger; and the
latter, while he is envious, proves that he is a
child and a minor, for while he envies another
he shows that the one at whose prosperity he
is vexed, is greater than he.

CHAPTER XXni.

What should be the character of the monk's food.

We should then choose for our food, not
only that which moderates the heat of burn-
ing lust, and avoids kindling it; but what is
easily got ready, and what is recommended
by its cheapness, and is suitable to the life of
the brethren and their common use. For the
nature of gluttony is threefold : first, there is
that which forces us to anticipate the proper

» Eph. iii. 16, 17. •■i Prov. xx. 13. (LXX.). 3 Job v. 2.

hour for a meal, next that which delights in
stuffing the stomach, and gorging all kinds of
food ; thirdly, that which takes pleasure in more
refined and delicate feasting. And so against
it a monk should observe a threefold watch:,
first, he should wait till the proper time for
breaking the fast; secondly, he should not
give way to gorging ; thirdly, he should be con-
tented with any of the commoner sorts of food.
For anything that is taken over and above
what is customary and the common use of all,
is branded by the ancient tradition of the
fathers as defiled with the sin of vanity and
glorying and ostentation. Nor of those whom
we have seen to be deservedly eminent for
learning and discretion, or whom the grace of
Christ has singled out as shining lights for
every one to imitate, have we known any who
have abstained from eating bread which is
accounted cheap and easily to be obtained
among them ; nor have we seen that any one
who has rejected this rule and given up the use
of bread and taken to a diet of beans or herbs
or fruits, has been reckoned among the most
esteemed, or even acquired the grace of know-
ledge and discretion. For not only do they
lay it down that a monk ought not to ask for
foods which are not customary for others, lest
his mode of life should be exposed publicly
to all and rendered vain and idle and so be
destroyed by the disease of vanity; but they
insist that the common chastening disci-
pline of fasts ought not lightly to be disclosed
j to any one, but as far as possible concealed
and kept secret. But when any of the breth-
ren arrive they rule that we ought to show the
virtues of kindness and charity instead of
observing a severe abstinence and our strict
daily rule : nor should we consider w'hat our
own wishes and profit or the ardour of our
desires may require, but set before us and
gladly fulfil whatever the refreshment of the
guest, or his weakness may demand from us.

CHAPTER XXIV.

How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without
scruple on our arrival.

When we had come from the region of Syria
and had sought the province of Egypt, in our
desire to learn the rules of the Elders, we were
astonished at the alacrity of heart with which
we were there received so that no rule forbid-
ding refreshment till the appointed hour of
the fast was over was observed, such as we
had been brought up to observe in the monas-
teries of Palestine; but except in the case of
the regular days, Wednesdays and Fridays,

BOOK V.

24:

wherever we went the daily fast^ was broken :-
and when we asked why the daily fast was
thus ignored by them without scruple one of
the elders replied: "The opportunity for fast-
ing is always with me. But as 1 am going
to conduct you on your way, I cannot always
keep you with me. And a fast, although it
is useful and advisable, is yet a free-will offer-
ing. But the exigencies of a command require
the fulfilment of a work of charity. And so
receiving Christ in you I ought to refresh Him :
but when I have sent you on your way I shall
be able to balance the hospitality offered for
His sake by a stricter fast on my own account.
For ' the children of the bridegroom cannot
fast while the bridegroom is with them: ' ^ but
when he has departed, then they will rightly
fast."

CHAPTER XXV.

Of the abstinence of one old man who took food six times so
sparingly that he was still hungry.

When one of the elders was pressing me to
eat a little more as I was taking refreshment,
and I said that I could not, he replied: "I
have already laid my table six times for differ-
ent brethren who had arrived, and, pressing
each of them, I partook of food with him, and
am still hungry, and do you, who now partake
of refreshment for the first time, say that you
cannot eat any more ? "

CHAPTER XXVI.

Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell.

We have seen another who lived alone, who
declared that he had never enjoyed food by
himself alone, but that even if for five days
running none of the brethren came to his cell
he constantly put off taking food until on
Saturday or Sunday he went to church for ser-
vice and found some stranger whom he brought

1 Static.

2 The allusion is here to the sparing diet and voluntary fasts of
the monks, among whom but one meal a day was usual (see the note
on III. xiii.) ; and though this was ordinarily taken at midday, yet
many of the more celebrated anchorites never broke their fast till
the evening; e.g. S. Antony is said never to have eaten till sunset
(Vita Anton.), and S. Jerome gives a similar account of Hilarion (Vita
Hil. § 4), while other instances of voluntary fasts are given by Cas-
sian in the following chapters, xxv.-xxvii. The " station " days, how-
ever, viz., Wednesday and Friday, being of ecclesiastical authority,
were strictly observed as a matter of rule, but these other voluntary
fasts at other times were to be freely broken through on account of
the arrival of visitors. See the Conferences II. xxvi., XXI. xiv.,
XXIV. xxi., and of. Rufinus, History of the Monks 1 1, vii., Palladins,
the Lausiac Histgry, c. lii. So the Rule of S. Benedict (c. liii.)
orders that on the arrival of visitors the Superior is to sit at table
with them and break his fast, unless it be a special fast day which
may not be broken ; but the brethren are to observe the regular fasts.

3 S. Matt. ix. 15. The Latin has sponsus in each clause.

home at once to his cell, and together with
him partook of refreshment for the body not
so much by reason of his own needs, as for
the sake of kindness and on his brother's
account. And so as they know that the daily
fast is broken without scruple on the arrival
of brethren, when they leave, they compen-
sate for the refreshment which has been en-
joj-ed on their account by a greater abstinence,
and sternly make up for the reception of even
a very little food by a severer chastisement
not only as regards bread, but also by lessen-
ing their usual amount of sleep.

CHAPTER XXVII.

What the two Abbots Pcesius and John said of the fruits of

their zeal.

When the aged John, who was superior of
a large monastery and of a quantity of breth-
ren, had come to visit the aged Passius, who
was living in a vast desert, and had been asked
of him as of a very old friend, what he had
done in all the forty years in which he had
been separated from him and had scarcely
ever been disturbed in his solitude by the
brethren : " Never,'" said he, " has the sun seen
me eating," "nor me angry," said the other.*

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The lesson and example which Abbot John when dying left to
his disciples.

When the same old man, as one who was
readily going to depart to his own, was lying
at his last gasp, and the brethren were stand-
ing round, they implored and intreated that
he would leave them, as a sort of legacy, some
special charge by which they could attain to
the height of perfection, the more easily from
the brevity of the charge : he sighed and said,
" I never did my own will, nor taught any one
what I had not first done myself."

CHAPTER XXIX.

Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual con-
ferences, but always went to sleep during earthly tales.

We knew an old man. Machetes by name,
w^ho lived at a distance from the crowds cf the
brethren, and obtained by his daily prayers

< There is a Pisius mentioned by Palladius in the Lausiac
History, but it is not clear whether he is the same man whom Cas-
sian mentions. John is a different person from the one already
mentioned in Book IV. xxiii. He is mentioned again below in xl.,
and the Nineteenth Conference is assigned to him.

•244

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

this grace from the Lord, that as often as
a spiritual conference was held, whether by
day or by night, he never was at all overcome
by sleep: but if any one tried to introduce a
word of detraction, or idle talk, he dropped
off to sleep at once as if the poison of slander
could not possibly penetrate to pollute his
ears.

CHAPTER XXX.

A saying of the same old man about not judging any one.

The same old man, when he was teaching
us that no one ought to judge another, re-
marked that there were three points on which
he had charged and rebuked the brethren, viz. :
because some allowed their uvula to be cut
off, or kept a cloak in their cell, or blessed oil
and gave it to those dwelling in the world who
asked for it: and he said that he had done all
these things himself. For having contracted
some malady of the uvula, I wasted away, said
he, for so long, through its weakness, that at
last I was driven by stress of the pain, and by
the persuasion of all the elders, to allow it to
be cut off. And I was forced too by reason of
this illness, to keep a cloak. And I was also
compelled to bless oil and give it to those who
prayed for it — a thing which I execrated
above everything, since that I thought that it
proceeded from great presumption of heart —
when suddenly many who were living in the
world surrounded me, so that I could not
possibly escape them in any other way, had
they not extorted from me with no small vio-
lence, and entreaties that I would lay my hand
on a vessel offered by them, and sign it with
the sign of the cross : and so believing that
they had secured blessed oil, at last they let
me go. And by these things I plainly discov-
ered that a monk was in the same case and
entangled in the same faults for which he had
ventured to judge others. Each one therefore
ought only to judge himself, and to be on the
watch, with care and circumspection in all
things not to judge the life and conduct of
others in accordance with the Apostle's charge,
"But thou, why dost thou judge thy brother?
to his own master he standeth or falleth."
And this: "Judge not, that ye be not judged.
For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall
be judged." ^ For besides the reason of which
we have spoken, it is for this cause also danger-
ous to judge concerning others because in those
matters in which we are offended — as we do
not know the need or the reason for which
they are really acting either rightly in the

1 Rom. xiv. lo, 4; S. Matt. vii. i, 2.

sight of God, or at any rate in a pardonable
manner — we are found to have judged them
rashly and in this commit no light sin, by
forming an opinion of our brethren different
from what we ought.

CHAPTER XXXI.

The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren
went to sleep during the spiritual conferences, and woke up
when some idle story was told.

The same old man made clear by this
proof that it was the devil who encouraged
idle tales, and showed himself always as the
enemy of spiritual conferences. For when
he was discoursing to some of the brethren on
necessary matters and spiritual things, and
saw that they were weighed down v/ith a sound
slumber, and could not drive away the weight
of sleep from their eyes, he suddenly intro-
duced an idle tale. And when he saw that
at once they woke up, delighted with it, and
pricked up their ears, he groaned and said,
"Up till now we were speaking of celestial
things and all your eyes were overpowered
with a sound slumber; but as soon as an idle
tale was introduced, we all woke up and shook
off the drowsiness of sleep which had over-
come us. And from this therefore consider
who is the enemy of that spiritual conference,
and who has shown himself the suggester of
that useless and carnal talk. For it is most
evidently shown that it is he who, rejoicing in
evil, never ceases to encourage the latter and
to oppose the former."

CHAPTER XXXII.

Of the letters which were burnt without being read.

Nor. do I think it less needful to relate this
act of a brother who was intent on purity of
heart, and extremely anxious with regard to
the contemplation of things divine. \\'hen
after an interval of fifteen years a large number
of letters had been brought to him from his
father and mother and many friends in the
province of Pontus, he received the huge packet
of letters, and turning over the matter in his
own mind for some time, "\\'hat thoughts,"
said he, "will the reading of these suggest to
me, which will incite me either to senseless
joy or to useless sadness! for how many days
will they draw off the attention of my heart
from the contemplation I have set before me,
by the recollection of those who wrote them!
How long will it take for the disturbance of
mind thus created to be calmed, and what an

BOOK V.

245

effort will it cost for that former state of
peacefulness to be restored, if the mind is
once moved by the sympathy of the letters,
and by recalling the words and looks of those
whom it has left for so long begins once more
in thought and spirit to revisit them, to dwell
among them and to be with them. And it will
be of no use to have forsaken them in the body,
if one begins to look on them with the heart,
and readmits and revives that memory which
on renouncing this world every one gave up,
as if he were dead. Turning this over in his
mind, he determined not only not to read a
single letter, but not even to open the packet,
for fear lest, at the sight of the names of the
writers, or on recalling their appearance, the
purpose of his spirit might give way. And so
he threw it into the fire to be burnt, all tied
up just as he had received it, crying, "Away,
O ye thoughts of my home, be ye burnt up,
and try no further to recall me to those things
from which I have fled."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained
by prayer.

We knew also Abbot Theodore,^ a man
gifted with the utmost holiness and with per-
fect knowledge not only in practical life, but
also in understanding the Scriptures, which
he had not acquired so much by study and
reading, or worldly education, as by purity of
heart alone : since he could with difficulty un-
derstand and speak but a very few words of
the Greek language. This man when he was
seeking an explanation of some most diffi-
cult question, continued without ceasing for
seven days and nights in prayer until he dis-
covered by a revelation from the Lord the
solution of the question propounded.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Of the saying of the same old man, through which he taught
by what efforts a monk can acquire a knowledge of the
Scriptures.

This man therefore, when some of the
brethren were wondering at the splendid light
of his knowledge and were asking of him some
meanings of Scripture, said that a monk who
wanted to acquire a knowledge of the Scrip-
tures ought not to spend his labour on the

1 Nothing further is known for certain of this Theodore. He
may be the author of the Vlth of the Conferences; but must be
carefully distinguished from his more celebrated namesake, the
friend of Pachomius, and third Abbot of Tabenna, who died before
Cassian's visit to Egypt.

works of commentators, but rather to keep all
the efforts of his mind and intentions of his
heart set on purifying himself from carnal
vices : for when these are driven out, at once
the eyes of the heart, as if the veil of the pas-
sions were removed, will begin as it were
naturally to gaze on the mysteries ^ of Scrip-
ture : since they were not declared to us by the
grace of the Holy Spirit in order that they
should remain unknown and obscure; but they
are rendered obscure by our fault, as the veil
of our sins covers the eyes of the heart, and
when these are restored to their natural state
of health, the mere reading of Holy Scripture
is by itself amply sufficient for beholding
the true knowledge, nor do they need the aid
of commentators, just as these eyes of flesh
need no man's teaching how to see, provided
that they are free from dimness or the dark-
ness of blindness. For this reason there have
arisen so great differences and mistakes among
commentators because most of them, paying
no sort of attention towards purifying the
mind, rush into the work of interpreting the
Scriptures, and in proportion to the density
or impurity of their heart form opinions that
are at variance with and contrary to each
other's and to the faith, and so are unable to
take in the light of truth.

CHAPTER XXXV.

A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell
in the middle of the night.

The same Theodore came unexpectedly to
my cell in the dead of night, with paternal
inquisitiveness seeking what I — an unformed
anchorite as I was — might be doing by my-
self ; and when he had found me there already,
as I had finished my vesper office, beginning
to refresh my wearied body, and lying down
on a mat, he sighed from the bottom of his
heart, and calling me by name, said, " How
many, O John, are at this hour communing
with God, and embracing Him, and detaining
Him with them, while you are deprived of so
great light, enfeebled as you are with lazy
sleep ! "

And since the virtues of the fathers and the
grace given to them have tempted us to turn
aside to a story like this, I think it well to
record in this volume a noteworthy deed of
charity, which we experienced from the kind-
ness of that most excellent man Archebius,
that the purity of continence grafted on to a
work of charity may more readily shine forth,
being embellished with a pleasing variety.

2 Sacramenta.

246

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

For the duty of fasting is then rendered accept-
able to God, when it is made perfect by the
fruits of charity.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A description of the dasert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live.

And so when we had come, while still begin-
ners, from the monasteries of Palestine, to a
city of Egypt called Diolcos, ^ and were contem-
plating a large number of monks bound by the
discipline of the Ccenobium, and trained in
that excellent system of monasteries, which is
also the earliest, we were also eager to see
with all wisdom of heart another system as
well which is still better, viz. : that of the an-
chorites, as we were incited thereto by the
praises of it by everybody. For these men,
having first lived for a very long time in Cceno-
bia, and having diligently learnt all the rules
of patience and discretion, and acquired the
virtues of humility and renunciation, and hav-
ing perfectly overcome all their faults, in order
to engage in most fearful conflicts with devils,
penetrate the deepest recesses of the desert.
Finding then that men of this sort were living
near the river Nile in a place which is sur-
rounded on one side by the same river, on the
other by the expanse of the sea, and forms an
island, habitable by none but monks seeking
such recesses, since the saltness of the soil and
dryness of the sand make it unfit for any culti-
vation — to these men, I say, we eagerly has-
tened, and were beyond measure astonished at
their labours which they endure in the contem-
plation of the virtues and their love of solitude.
For they are hampered by such a scarcity even
of water that the care and exactness with which
they portion it out is such as no miser would
bestow in preserving and hoarding the most
precious kind of wine. For they carry it three
miles or even further from the bed of the
above-mentioned river, for all necessary pur-
poses; and the distance, great as it is, with
sandy mountains in between, is doubled by
the very great difiiculty of the task.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Of the cells which Abbot Archcbius gave up to us with their

furniture.

Having then seen this, as we were inflamed
with the desire of imitating them, the afore-
said Archcbius, the most famous among them

' Diolcos is mentioned again in the Conferences XVIII. i. Sozo-
menfVI. xxix.) speaks of two celebrated monasteries near there
presided over by Piamun and John.

for the grace of kindness, drew us into his cell,
and having discovered our desire, pretended
that he wanted to leave the place, and to offer
his cell to us, as if he were going away, de-
claring that he would have done it, even if
we had not come. And we, inflamed with the
desire of remaining there, and putting unhesi-
tating faith in the assertions of so great a man,
willingly agreed to this, and took over his cell
with all its furniture and belongings. And so
having succeeded in his pious fraud, he left
the place for a few days in which to procure
the means for constructing a cell, and after
this returned, and with the utmost labour built
another cell for himself. And after some little
time, when some other brethren came inflamed
with the same desire to stay there, he deceived
them by a similar charitable falsehood, and
gave this one up with everything pertaining to
it. But he, unweariedly persevering in his act
of charity, built for himself a third cell to
dwell in.'

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

The same .•\rchebius paid a debt of his mother's b.v the labour
of his own hands.

It seems to me worth while to hand down
another charitable act of the same man, that
the monks of our land may be taught by the
example of one and the same man to maintain
not only a rigorous continence, but also the
most unfeigned affection of love. For he,
sprung from no ignoble family, while yet a
child, scorning the love of this world and of
his kinsfolk, fled to the monastery which is
nearly four miles distant from the aforemen-
tioned town, where he so passed all his life,
that never once throughout the whole of fifty
years did he enter or see the village from which
he had come, nor even look upon the face of
any woman, not even his own mother. In the
mean while his father was overtaken by death,
and left a debt of a hundred solidi. And
though he himself was entirely free from all
annoyances, since he had been disinherited
of all his father's property, yet he found that
his mother was excessively annoyed by the
creditors. Then he through consideration of
duty somewhat moderated that gospel severity
through which formerly, while his parents
were prosperous, he did not recognize that he
possessed a father or mother on earth ; and
acknowledged that he had a mother, and hast-
ened to relieve her in her distress, without
relaxing anything of the austerity he had set

' Somewhat similar stories are told of others by Palladius,
(LausiacHistoo', cc.ii. i,lxx.); and Rufinus, History of the Monks,
I. xxiii.

BOOK V.

247

himself. For remaining within the cloister of
the monastery he asked that the task of his
usual work might be trebled. And there for
a whole year toiling night and day alike he
paid to the creditors the due measure of the
debt secured by his toil and labour, and
relieved his mother from all annoyance and
anxiety; ridding her of the burden of the debt
in such a way as not to suffer aught of the
severity he had set himself to be diminished,
on plea of duteous necessity. Thus did he
preserve his wonted austerities, without ever
denying to his mother's heart the work which
duty demanded, as, though he had formerly
disregarded her for the love of Christ, he now
acknowledged her again out of consideration
of duty.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Of the device of a certain old man bv which some work was
found for Abbot Simeon when he had nothing to do.

When a brother who was very dear to us,
Simeon by name, a man utterly ignorant of
Greek, had come from the region of Italy, one
of the elders, anxious to show to him, as he
was a stranger, a work of charity, with some
pretence of the benefit being mutual, asked him
why he sat doing nothing in his cell, guessing
from this that he would not be able to stay
much longer in it both because of the roving
thoughts which idleness produces and because
of hts want of the necessities of life; well
knowing that no one can endure the assaults
made in solitude, but one who is contented to
procure food for himself by the labour of his
hands. And when the other replied that he
could not do or manage any of the things
which were usually done by the brethren there,
except write a good hand, if any one in Egypt
wanted a Latin book for his use, then he at
length seized the opportunity to secure the
long wished for work of charity, under colour
of its being a mutual benefit; and said, " From
God this opportunity comes, for I was just
looking for some one to write out for me the
Epistles 1 in Latin; for I have a brother who
is bound in the chains of military service, and
is a good Latin scholar, to whom I want to
send something from Scripture for him to read
for his edification." And so when Simeon
gratefully took this as an opportunity offered
to him by God, the old man also gladly seized
the pretext, under colour of which he could
freely carry out his work of charity, and at
once not only brought him as a matter of busi-
ness everything he could want for a whole

* Apostolus^

year, but also conveyed to him parchment and
everything requisite for writing, and received
afterwards the manuscript, which was not of
the slightest use (since in those parts they
were all utterly ignorant of this language),
and did no good to anybody except that which
resulted from this device and large outlay, as
the one, without shame or confusion, procured
his necessary food and sustenance by the re-
ward of his work and labour, and the other car-
ried out his kindness and bounty as it were by
the compulsion of a debt: securing for himself
a more abundant reward proportioned to the
zeal with which he procured for his foreign
brother not only his necessary food, but als
materials for writing, and an opportunity of
work.

CHAPTER XL. ■

Of the bovs who when bringing to a sick man some figs, died
in the desert from hunger, without having tasted them.

But since in the section in which we pro-
posed to say something about the strictness of
fasting and abstinence, kindly acts and deeds
of charity seem to have been intermingled,
again returning to our design we will insert
in this little book a noteworthy deed of some
who were boys in years though not in their
feelings. For when, to their great surprise,
some one had brought to Abbot John, the stew-
ard in the desert of Scete, some figs from Libya
Mareotis,- as being a thing never before seen
in those districts, — (John) who had the man-
agement of the church in the days of the
blessed Presbyter Paphnutius,^ by whom it
had been intrusted to him, at once sent them
by the hands of two lads to an old man who
was laid up in ill health in the further parts
of the desert, and who lived about eighteen
miles from the church. And when they had
received the fruit, and set off for the cell of
the above-mentioned old man, they lost the
right path altogether — a thing which there
easily happens even to elders — as a thick fog
suddenly came on. And when all day and
night they had wandered about the trackless
waste of the desert, and could not possibly find
the sick man's cell, worn out at last both by
weariness from their journey, and from hunger
and thirst, they bent their knees and gave up
their souls to God in the very act of prayer.
And afterwards, when they had been for a

2 The Mareotic nome is the district round Lake Mareotis, a lake
in the north of the delta bordering upon the Libyan desert (the
modern Birket el Maricmt^, and running parallel to the Rlediter-
ranean, from which it is separated by a long and narrow ndge ot

3 On Paphnutius see the note on the Conference IIL i.

248

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

long while sought for by the marks of their
footsteps which in those sandy regions are
impressed as if on snow, until a thin coating
of sand blown about even by a slight breeze
covers them up again, it was found that they
had preserved the figs untouched, just as they
had received them; choosing rather to give up
their lives, than their fidelity to their charge,
and to lose their life on earth than to violate
the commands of their senior.

CHAPTER XLI.

The saying of Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk as
one who was to live for a long while, and as one who was
daily at the point of death.

There is still one valuable charge of the
blessed Macarius to be brought forward by us,
so that a saying of so great a man may close

this book of fasts and abstinence. He said
then that a monk ought to bestow attention on
his fasts, just as if he were going to remain in
the flesh for a hundred years ; and to curb the
motions of the soul, and to forget injuries, and
to loathe sadness, and despise sorrows and
losses, as if he were daily at the point of
death. For in the former case discretion is
useful and proper as it causes a monk always
to walk with well-balanced care, and does not
suffer him by reason of a weakened body to
fall from the heights over most dangerous pre-
cipices: in the other high-mindedness is most
valuable as it will enable him not only to de-
spise the seeming prosperity of this present
world, but also not to be crushed by adversity
and sorrow, and to despise them as small and
paltry matters, since he has the gaze of his
mind continually fixed there, whither daily at
each moment he believes that he is soon to be
summoned.-^

BOOK VI.

ON THE SPIRIT OF FORNICATION.
We have thought best to omit altogether the translation of this book.

BOOK VII.

OF THE SPIRIT OF COVETOUSNESS.

CHAPTER I.

How our warfare with covetoiisness is a foreign one, and how
this fault is not a natural one in man, as the other faults are.

Our third conflict is against covetousness
which we can describe as the love of money;
a foreign warfare, and one outside of our
nature, and in the case of a monk originat-
ing only from the state of a corrupt and slug-
gish mind, and often from the beginning of
his renunciation being unsatisfactory, and his
love towards God being lukewarm at its
foundation. For the rest of the incitements
to sin planted in human nature seem to have
their commencement as it were congenital with
us, and somehow being deeply rooted in our
flesh, and almost coeval with our birth, anti-
cipate our powers of discerning good and

evil, and although in very early days they at-
tack a man, yet they are overcome with a long
struggle.

CHAPTER II.

How dangerous is the disease of covetousness.

But this disease coming upon us at a later
period, and approaching the soul from with-

> Socrates (H.E. Book IV. c. xxiii.) gives an account of two
monks of the name of Macarius, one of whom was from Upper
Egypt, and the other from Alexandria. Compare also Rufinus,
History of the Monks, cc. xxviii., xxix. It is not certain to which
of them Cassian's stories refer, liere and in the Conferences V. xii.,
VII. xxvii., XXIV. xiii. The stor\- told in Conference XV. iii.
refers to the " E|EO'ptian " Macarius (cf. .Sozomen H. E. III. xiv.,
wliere tlie miracle is expressly assigned to him) : that in XIV. iv.
evidently belongs to the "Alexandrian" Macarius. The two are
mentioned together in Conference XIX. Lx., and by various other
writers.

BOOK VII.

249

out, as it can be the more easily guarded
against and resisted, so, if it is disregarded
and once allowed to gain an entrance into the
heart, is the more dangerous to everyone, and
with the greater difficulty expelled. For it
becomes ''a root of all evils," ^ and gives rise
to a multiplicity of incitements to sin.

CHAPTER III.

What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us.

For example, do not we see those natural
impulses of the flesh not only in boys in whom
innocence still anticipates the discernment of
good and evil, but even in little children and
infants, who although they have not even the
slightest approach to lust within them, yet
show that the impulses of the flesh exist in
them and are naturally excited? Do not we
also see that the deadly pricks of anger already
exist in full vigour likewise in little children.?
and before they have learnt the virtue of
patience, we see that they are disturbed by
wrongs, and feel affronts offered to them even
by way of a joke; and sometimes, although
strength is lacking to them, the desire to
avenge themselves is not wanting, when anger
excites them. Nor do I say this to lay the
blame on their natural state, but to point out
that of these impulses which proceed from us,
some are implanted in us for a useful purpose,
while some are introduced from without,
through the fault of carelessness and the desire
of an evil will. For these carnal impulses,
of which we spoke above, were with a useful
purpose implanted in our bodies by the provi-
dence of the Creator, viz. : for perpetuating
the race, and raising up children for posterity:
and not for committing adulteries and de-
baucheries, which the authority of the law
also condemns. The pricks of anger too, do
we not see that they have been most wisely
given to us, that being enraged at our sins
and mistakes, we may apply ourselves the
rather to virtues and spiritual exercises, show-
ing forth all love towards God, and patience
towards our brethren? We know too how
great is the use of sorrow, which is reckoned
among the other vices, when it is turned to an
opposite use. For on the one hand, when it
is in accordance with the fear of God it is
most needful, and on the other, when it is in
accordance with the world, most pernicious;
as the Apostle teaches us when he says that
"the sorrow which is according to God work-
eth repentance that is steadfast unto salvation,
but the sorrow of the world worketh death." -

' I Tim. vi. 10.

Cor.

CHAPTER IV.

That we can say that there exist in us some natural faults,
without wronging the Creator.

If then we say that these impulses were im-
planted in us by the Creator, He will not on
that account seem blameworthy, if we choose
wrongly to abuse them, and to pervert them
to harmful purposes, and are ready to be
made sorry by means of the useless Cains of
this world, and not by means of showing peni-
tence and the correction of our faults: or at
least if we are angry not with ourselves (which
would be profitable) but with our brethren in
defiance of God's command. For in the case
of iron, which is given us for good and useful
purposes, if any one should pervert it for mur-
dering the innocent, one would not therefore
blame the maker of the metal because man had
used to injure others that which he had pro-
vided for good and useful purposes of living
happily.

CHAPTER V.

Of the faults which are contracted through our own fault, with-
out natural impulses.

But we affirm that some faults grow up
without any natural occasion giving birth to
them, but simply from the free choice of a
corrupt and evil will, as envy and this very
sin of covetousness ; which are caught (so to
speak) from without, having no origination in
us from natural instincts. But these, in pro-
portion as they are easily guarded against
and readily avoided, just so do they make
wretched the mind that they have got hold of
and seized, and hardly do they suffer it to get
at the remedies which would cure it : either be-
cause these who are wounded by persons whom
they might either have ignored, or avoided,
or easily overcome, do not deserve to be healed
by a speedy cure, or else because, having laid
the foundations badly, they are unworthy to
raise an edifice of virtue and reach the summit
of perfection.

CHAPTER VI.

How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when
once it has been admitted.

Wherefore let not this evil seem of no
account or unimportant to anybody: for as it
can easily be avoided, so if it has once got
hold of any one, it scarcely suffers him to get
at the remedies for curing it. For it is a

2qO

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

regular nest of sins, and a "root of all kinds
of evil," and becomes a hopeless incitement
to wickedness, as the Apostle says, " Covet-
ousness," i.e. the love of money, "is a root of
all kinds of evil." ^

CHAPTER VII.

Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils
of which it is itself the mother.

When then this vice has got hold of the
slack and lukewarm soul of some monk, it
begins by tempting him in regard of a small
sum of money, giving him excellent and
almost reasonable excuses why he ought to
retain some money for himself. For he com-
plains that what is provided in the monastery
is not sufficient, and can scarcely be endured
by a sound and sturdy body. \\'hat is he to
do if ill health comes on, and he has no special
store of his own to support him in his weak-
ness? He says that the allowance of the mon-
astery is but meagre, and that there is the
greatest carelessness about the sick: and if
he has not something of his own so that he
can look after the wants of his body, he will
perish miserably. The dress which is allowed
him is insufficient, unless he has provided
something with which to procure another.
Lastly, he says that he cannot possibly remain
for long in the same place and monastery,
and that unless he has secured the money for
his journey, and the cost of his removal over
the sea, he cannot move when he wants to,
and, detained by the compulsion of want, will
henceforth drag out a wretched and wearisome
existence without making the slightest ad-
vance : that he cannot without indignity be
supported by another's substance, as a pauper
and one in want. And so when he has bam-
boozled himself with such thoughts as these,
he racks his brains to think how he can acquire
at least one penny. Then he anxiously
searches for some special work which he can
do without the Abbot knowing anything about
it. And selling it secretly, and so securing
the coveted coin, he torments himself worse
and worse in thinking how he can double it:
puzzled as to where to deposit it, or to whom
to intrust it. Then he is oppressed with a
still weightier care as to what to buy with it,
or by what transaction he can double it. And
when this has turned out as he wished, a still
more greedy craving for gold springs up, and is
more and more keenly excited, as his store of
money grows larger and larger. For with the

1 I Tim. vi. lo.

increase of wealth the mania of covetousness
increases. Then next he has forebodings of a
long life, and an enfeebled old age, and in-
firmities of all sorts, and long drawn out,
which will be insupportable in old age, unless
a large store of money has been laid by in
youth. And so the wretched soul is agitated,
and held fast, as it were, in a serpent's toils,
while it endeavours to add to that heap which
it has unlawfully secured, by still more un-
lawful care, and itself gives birth to plagues
which inflame it more sorely, and being en-
tirely absorbed in the quest of gain, pays atten-
tion to nothing but how to get money with
which to fly'^ as quickly as possible from the
discipline of the monastery, never keeping
faith where there is a gleam of hope of money
to be got. For this it shrinks not from the
crime of lying, perjury, and theft, of breaking
a promise, of giving way to injurious bursts
of passion. If the man has dropped away at
all from the hope of gain, he has no scruples
about transgressing the bounds of humility,
and through it all gold and the love of gain
become to him his god, as the belly does to
others. Wherefore the blessed Apostle, look-
ing out on the deadly poison of this pest, not
only says that it is a root of all kinds of evil,
but also calls it the worship of idols, saying
"And covetousness (which in Greek is called
qiduQjvgin) which is the w^orship of idols." ^
You see then to what a downfall this madness
step by step leads, so that by the voice of the
Apostle it is actually declared to be the wor-
ship of idols and false gods, because passing
over the image and likeness of God (which
one who serves God with devotion ought to pre-
serve undefiled in himself), it chooses to love
and care for images stamped on gold instead
of God.

CHAPTER VIII.

How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues.

With such strides then in a downward direc-
tion he goes from bad to worse, and at last
cares not to retain 1 will not say the virtue but
even the shadow of humility, charity, and obe-
dience; and is displeased with everything, and
murmurs and groans over every work; and now
having cast off all reverence, like a bad-tem-
pered horse, dashes off headlong and unbridled :
and discontented with his daily food and
usual clothing, announces that he will not put

- The same danger is strongly spoken of by S. Basil in the
"Monastic Constitutions " c. xxxiv., a passage which should be
compared with llie one above.

3 Col. iii. 5-

BOOK VII.

251

up with it any longer. He declares that God
is not only there, and that his salvation is not
confined to that place, where, if he does not
take himself off pretty quickly from it, he
deeply laments that he will soon die.

CHAPTER IX.

How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery.

And so having money to provide for his
wanderings, with the assistance of which he
has fitted himself as it were with wings, and
now being quite ready for his move, he
answers impertinently to all commands, and
behaves himself like a stranger and a visitor,
and whatever he sees needing improvement,
he despises and treats with contempt. And
though he has a supply of money secretly
hidden, yet he complains that he has neither
shoes nor clothes, and is indignant that they
are given out to him so slowly. And if it
happens that through the management of the
superior some of these are given first to one
who is known to have nothing whatever, he is
still more inflamed with burning rage, and
thinks that he is despised as a stranger; nor
is he contented to turn his hand to any work,
but finds fault with everything which the needs
of the monastery require to be done. Then of
set purpose he looks out for opportunities
of being offended and angry, lest he might
seem to have gone forth from the discipline of
the monastery for a trivial reason. And not
content to take his departure by himself alone,
lest it should be thought that he has left as '■
it were from his own fault, he never stops
corrupting as many as he can by clandestine
conferences. But if the severity of the weather
interferes with his journey and travels, he re-
mains all the time in suspense and anxiety of
heart, and never stops sowing and exciting
discontent; as he thinks that he will only find
consolation for his departure and an excuse
for his fickleness in the bad character and
defects of the monastery.

CHAPTER X.

Of th: toils which a deserter from a monastery must undergo
through covetoiisness, though he used formerly to murmur
at the very slightest tasks.

And so he is driven about, and more and
more inflamed with the love of his money,
which when it is acquired, never allows a
monk either to remain in a monastery or to
live under the discipline of a rule. And when
separating him like some wild beast from the

rest of the herd, it has made him through want
of companions an animal fit for prey, and
caused him to be easily eaten up, as he is
deprived of fellow lodgers, it forces him, who
once thought it beneath him to perform the
slight duties of the monastery, to labour with-
out stopping night and day, through hope of
gain; it suffers him to keep no services of
prayer, no system of fasting, no rule of vigils;
it does not allow him to fulfil the duties of
seemly intercession, if only he can satisfy the
madness of avarice, and supply his daily
wants; inflaming the more the fire of covet-
ousness, while believing that it will be ex-
tinguished by getting.

CHAPTER XL

That under pretence of keeping the purse women have to be
sought to dwell with them.

Hence many are led on over an abrupt pre-
cipice, and by an irrevocable fall, to death,
and not content to possess by themselves that
money which they either never had before,
or which by a bad beginning they kept back,
they seek for women to dwell with them, to
preserve what they have unjustifiably amassed
or retained. And they implicate themselves
in so many harmful and dangerous occupa-
tions, that they are cast dow-n even to the
depths of hell, while they refuse to acquiesce
in that saying of the Apostle, that "having
food and clothing they should be content "
with that which the thrift of the monastery
supplied, but "wishing to become rich they
fall into temptation and the snare of the devil,
and many unprofitable and hurtful desires,
which drown men in destruction and perdi-
tion. For the love of money," i.e. covetous-
ness, " is a root of all kinds of evil, which
some coveting have erred from the faith, and
have entangled themselves in many sorrows." ^

CHAPTER XII.

An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of
covetousness.

I KNOW of one, who thinks himself a monk,
and what is worse flatters himself on his per-
fection, who had been received into a mon-
astery, and when charged by his Abbot not to
turn his thoughts back to those things which
he had given up and renounced, but to free
himself from covetousness, the root of all
kinds of evil, and from earthly snares; and

' I Tim. vi. 8-10.

2!;2

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

when told that if he wished to be cleansed
from his former passions, by which he saw that
he was from time to time grievously oppressed,
he should cease from caring about those
things which even formerly were not his own,
entangled in the chains of which he certainly
could not make progress towards purifying
himself of his faults: with an angry expression
he did not hesitate to answer, " If you have
that with which you can support others, why
do you forbid me to have it as well ? " ^

CHAPTER XIII.

What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of
stripping off sins.

But let not this seem superfluous or objec-
tionable to any one. For unless the different
kinds of sins are first explained, and the origin
and causes of diseases traced out, the proper
healing remedies cannot be applied to the sick,
nor can the preservation of perfect health
be secured by the strong. For both these
matters and many others besides these are
generally put forward for the instruction of
the younger brethren by the elders in their
conferences, as they have had experience
of numberless falls and the ruin of all sorts of
people. And often recognizing in ourselves
many of these things, when the elders ex-
plained and showed them, as men who were
themselves disquieted ' by the same passions,
we were cured without any shame or confu-
sion on our part, since without saying anything
we learnt both the remedies and the causes of
the sins which beset us, which we have passed
over and said nothing about, not from fear of
the brethren, but lest our book should chance
to fall into the hands of some who have had
no instruction in this way of life, and might
disclose to inexperienced persons what ought
to be known only to those who are toiling and
striving to reach the heights of perfection.

CHAPTER XIV.

Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold.

And so this disease and unhealthy state is
threefold, and is condemned with equal abhor-
rence by all the fathers. One feature is this,
of which we described the taint above, which
by deceiving wretched folk persuades them to
hoard though they never had anything of their
own when they lived in the world. Another,

' Cur prohibes fPetschenig). Oaz^us omits Ctir.

* Fulsarcntur ( Petsr.henig). Tlie text of Gazsus h^spulsaremtir.

which forces men afterwards to resume and
once more desire those things which in the
early days, of their renunciation of the world
they gave up. A third, which springing from
a faulty and hurtful beginning and making
a bad start, does not suffer those whom it has
once infected with this lukewarmness of mind
to strip themselves of all their worldly goods,
through fear of poverty and want of faith;
and those who keep back money and property
which they certainly ought to have renounced
and forsaken, it never allows to arrive at
the perfection of the gospel. And we find
in Holy Scripture instances of these three
catastrophes which were visited with no light
punishment. For when Gehazi wished to
acquire what he had never had before, not only
did he fail to obtain the gift of prophecy which
it would have been his to receive from his
master by hereditary succession, but on the
contrary he was covered by the curse of the
holy Elisha with a perpetual leprosy: while
Judas, wanting to resume the possession of the
wealth which he had formerly cast away when
he followed Christ, not only fell into betraying
the Lord, and lost his apostolic rank, but also
was not allowed to close his life with the com-
mon lot of all but ended it by a violent death.
But Ananias and Sapphira, keeping back a
part of that which was formerly their own, were
at the Apostle's word punished with death.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly
and one who does not renounce it at all.

Of those then who say that they have re-
nounced this world, and afterwards being over-
come by want of faith are afraid of losing their
worldly goods, a charge is given mystically
in Deuteronomy. " If any man is afraid and
of a fearful heart let him not go forth to war:
let him go back and return home, lest he make
the hearts of his brethren to fear as he himself
is timid and frightened.'"^ What can one
want plainer than this testimony? Does not
Scripture clearly prefer that they should not
take on them even the earliest stages of this
profession and its name, rather than by their
persuasion and bad example turn others back
from the perfection of the gospel, and weaken
them by their faithless terror. And so they
are bidden to withdraw from the battle and
return to their homes, because a man cannot
fight the Lord's battle with a double heart.
For "a double-minded man is unstable in all
his ways." * And thinking, according to that

» Deut. XX. 8.

* S. James i. 8.

BOOK VII.

253

Parable in the Gospel, ' that he who goes forth
with ten thousand men against a king who
comes with twenty thousand, cannot possibly
fight, thev should, while he is yet a great way
off, ask for peace ; that is, it is better for them
not even to take the first step towards renun-
ciation, rather than afterwards following it up
coldly, to involve themselves in still greater
dangers. For " it is better not to vow, than
to vow and not pay." - But finely is the one
described as coming with ten thousand and
the other with twenty. For the number of
sins which attack us is far larger than that of
the virtues which fight for us. But "no man
can serve God and Mammon."^ And "no
man putting his hand to the plough and look-
ing back is fit for the kingdom of God." *

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the authority under which those shelter themselves who
object to stripping themselves of their goods.

These then try to make out a case for their
original avarice,' by some authority from Holy
Scripture, which they interpret with base in-
genuity, in their desire to wrest and pervert
to their own purposes a saying of the Apostle
or rather of the Lord Himself: and, not
adapting their own life or understanding to
the meaning of the Scripture, but making the
meaning of Scripture bend to the desires of
their own lust, they try to make it to cor-
respond to their own views, and say that it is
written, " It is more blessed to give than to
receive. " ^ And by an entirely wrong interpre-
tation of this they' think that 'they can weaken
the force of that saying of the Lord in which
he says: "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell all
that thou hast and give to the poor, and thou
shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come, fol-
low me." ^ And they think that under colour
of this they need not deprive themselves of
their riches: declaring indeed that they are
more blessed if, supported by that which
originally belonged to them, they give to
others also out of their superabundance. And
while they are shy of embracing with the
Apostle that glorious state of abnegation for
Christ's sake, they will not be content either
with manual labour or the sparing diet of the
monastery. And the only thing is that these
must either know that they are deceiving
themselves, and have not really renounced
the world while they are clinging to their
former riches; or, if they really and truly

want to make trial of the monastic life, they
must give up and forsake all these things and
keep back nothing of that which they have
renounced, and, with the Apostle, glory "_in
hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness.""

CHAPTER XVII.

Of the renunciation of the apostles and the primitive church.

As if he (v/ho, by his assertion that he was
endowed with the privileges of a Roman citizen
from his birth, testifies that he was no mean
person according to this world's rank) might
not likewise have been supported by the prop-
erty which formerly belonged to him! And
as if those men who were possessors of lands
and houses in Jerusalem and sold everything
and kept back nothing whatever for them-
selves, and brought the price of them and laid
it at the feet of the apostles, might not have
supplied their bodily necessities from their
own property, had this been considered the
best plan by the apostles, or had they them-
selves deemed it preferable ! But they gave
up all their property at once, and preferred
to be supported by their own labour, and by
the contributions of the Gentiles, of whose
collection the holy Apostle speaks in writing
to the Romans, and declaring his own ofiice
in this matter to them, and urging them on
likewise to make this collection: "But now I
go to Jerusalem to minister to the saints.
For it has pleased them of Macedonia and
Achaia to make a certain contribution for the
poor saints who are at Jerusalem: it has
pleased them indeed, and their debtors they
are. For if the Gentiles are made partakers
of their spiritual things, they ought also to
minister to them in carnal things." * To the
Corinthians also he shows the same anxiety
about this, and urges them the more diligently
to prepare before his arrival a collectiori,
w^hich he was intending to send for their
needs. "But concerning the collection for
the saints, as I appointed to the churches of
Galatia, so also do ye. Let each one of you
on the first day of the week put apart with
himself, laying up what it shall well please
him, that when I come the collections be not
then to be made. But when I come whomso-
lever you shall approve by your letters, them
1 1 will send to carry your grace to Jerusalem."
And that he may stimulate them to make a
larger collection, he adds, " But if it be meet

* S. Luke xiv. ^i, 32.
2 Ecci.v. 4 (LXX.).
« S. Matt. vi. 24.

* S. Luke ix. 62.

^ Acts XX. 35.

0 S. Matt. XIX. 21.

mean-

that I also go, they shall go with me

ing if your offering is of such a character as

' 2 Cor. ii. 2-j. ' Rom. xv. 25-27.

I Cor. xvi. 1-4.

'54

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

to deserve to be taken there by my ministra-
tion. To the Galatians too, he testifies that
when he was settling the division of the minis-
try of preaching with the apostles, he had
arranged this with James, Peter, and John :
that he should undertake the preaching to the
Gentiles, but should never repudiate care and
anxious thought for the poor who were at
Jerusalem, who for Christ's sake gave up all
their goods, and submitted to voluntary pov-
erty. '"And when they saw," said he, "the
grace of God which was given to me, James
and Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars,
gave to me and to Barnabas the right hand
of fellowship, that we should preach to the
Gentiles, but they to those of the circum-
cision : only they would that we should be
mindful of the poor." A matter which he
testifies that he attended to most carefully,
saying, "which also I was anxious of myself to
do. "^ Who then are the more blessed, those
who but lately were gathered out of the number
of the heathen, and being unable to climb to
the heights of the perfection of the gospel,
clung to their own property, in whose case it
was considered a great thing by the Apostle if
at least they were restrained from the worship
of idols, and from fornication, and from things
strangled, and from blood, '^ and had embraced
the faith of Christ, with their goods and all:
or those who live up to the demands of the
gospel, and carry the Lord's cross daily, and
want nothing out of their property to remain
for their own use.'' And if the blessed Apostle
himself, bound with chains and fetters, or
hampered by the difficulties of travelling,
and for these reasons not being able to pro-
vide with his hands, as he generally did, for
the supply of his food, declares that he re-
ceived that which supplied his wants from the
brethren who came from Macedonia; "For
that which was lacking tome," he says, "the
brethren who came from Macedonia sup-
plied : " ^ and to the Philippians he says : " For
ye Philippians know also that in the begin-
ning of the gospel, when I came from Mace-
donia, no church communicated with me in
the matter of giving and receiving, except you
only; because even in Thessalonica once and
again you sent to supply my needs: " * (if this
was so) then, according to the notion of these
men, which they have formed in the coldness
of their heart, will those men really be more
blessed than the Apostle, because it is found
that they have ministered to him of their sub-
stance? But this no one will venture to as-
sert, however big a fool he may be.

' Gal. ii. 9, lo.
* Acts XV. zo.

' 2 Cor. xi. 9.
* Phil. iv. 15, 16.

CHAPTER XVni.

That if we want to imitate the apostles we ought not to live
according to our own prescriptions, but to follow their
example.

Wherefore if we want to obey the gospel
precept, and to show ourselves the followers
of the Apostle and the whole primitive church,
or of the fathers who in our own days suc-
ceeded to their virtues and perfection, we
should not acquiesce in our own prescrip-
tions, promising ourselves perfection from this
wretched and lukewarm condition of ours:
but following their footsteps, we should by
no means aim at looking after our own inter-
ests, but should seek out the discipline and
system of a monastery, that we may in very
truth renounce this world ; preserving nothing
of those things which we have despised
through the temptation of want of faith; and
should look for our daily food, not from any
store of money of our own, but from our own
labours.

CHAPTER XIX.

A. saying of S. Basil, tb.e Bishop, directed against Syncletius.5

There is current a saying of S. Basil,
Bishop of Cassarea, directed against a certain
Syncletius, who was growing indifferent with
the sort of lukewarmness of which we have
spoken ; who, though he professed to have re-
nounced this world, had yet kept back for
himself some of his property, not liking to be
supported by the labour of his own hands,
and to acquire true humility by stripping
himself and by grinding toil, and the subjec-
tion of the monastery: "You have," said he,
"spoilt Syncletius, and not made a monk."

CHAPTER XX.

How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness.

And so if we want to strive lawfully in our
spiritual combat, let us expel this dangerous
enemy also from our hearts. For to overcome
him does not so much show great virtue, as to
be beaten by him is shameful and disgraceful.
For when you are overpowered by a strong
man, though there is grief in being overthrown,
and distress at the loss of victory, yet some
consolation may be derived by the vanquished

^ Petschenig's text has Syncletiutn as a proper natfie. Gazsus,
however, thinks that it should be Syncleticum ; i.e. SuyicArjTiicdj or
Senator : and in the saying of S. Basil at the close of the chapter actu-
ally reads (ajiparently without any MS. authority), J£i Senaiorem,
inquit, perdidisti.

BOOK VII.

255

from the strength of their opponent. But if
the enemy is a poor creature, and the struggle
a feeble one, besides the grief for defeat there
is confusion of a more disgraceful character,
and a shame which is worse than loss.

CHAPTER XXI.

How covetousness can bs conquered.

And in this case it will be the greatest
victory and a lasting triumph, if, as is said,
the conscience of the monk is not defiled by
the possession of the smallest coin. For it
is an impossibility for him who, overcome in
the matter of a small possession, has once
admitted into his heart a root of evil desire,
not to be inflamed presently with the heat of
a still greater desire. For the soldier of
Christ will be victorious and in safety, and
free from all the attacks of desire, so long as
this most evil spirit does not implant in his
heart a seed of this desire. Wherefore, though
in the matter of all kinds of sins we ought
ordinarily to watch the serpent's head,^ yet in
this above all we should be more keenly on
our guard. For if it has been admitted it will
grow by feeding on itself, and will kindle for
itself a worse fire. And so we must not only
guard against th.Q possessioJi of money, but also
must expel from our souls the desire for it.
For we should not so much avoid the results
of covetousness, as cut off by the roots all
disposition towards it. For it will do no good
not to possess money, if there exists in us the
desire for getting it.

CHAPTER XXIL

That one who actually has no money may still be deemed
covetous.

For it is possible even for one who has no
money to be by no means free from the malady
of covetousness, and for the blessing of pen-
ury to do him no good, because he has not
been able to root out the sin of cupidity:
delighting in the advantages of poverty, not
in the merit of the virtue, and satisfied with
the burden of necessitv, not without coldness
of heart. For just as the word of the gospel
declares of those who are not defiled in body,
that they are adulterers in heart;" so it is
possible that those who are in no way pressed
down with the weight of money may be con-
demned with the covetous in disposition and
intent. For it was the opportunity of possegs-

* Gen. ill. 15.

» S. Matt. V. 28.

ing which was wanting in their case, and not
j the will for it: which latter is always crowned
I by God, rather than compulsion. And so we
must use all diligence lest the fruits of our
labours should be destroyed to no purpose.
For it is a wretched thing to have endured the
effects of poverty and want, but to have lost
their fruits, through the fault of a shattered
will.

CHAPTER XXIII.

An example drawn from the case of Judas.

Would you like to know how dangerously
and harmfully that incitement, unless it has
been carefully eradicated, will shoot up for the
destruction of its owner, and put forth all
sorts of branches of different sins? Look at
Judas, reckoned among the number of the
apostles, and see how because he would not
bruise the deadly head of this serpent it de-
stroyed him with its poison, and how when
he was caught in the snares of concupiscence,
it drove him into sin and a headlong downfall,
so that he was persuaded to sell the Redeemer
of the world and the author of man's salva-
tion for thirty pieces of silver. And he could
never have been impelled to this heinous sin
of the betrayal if he had not been contami-
nated by the sin of covetousness: nor would
he have made himself wickedly guilty of be-
traying^ the Lord, unless he had first accus-
tomed himself to rob the bag intrusted to him.

CHAPTER XXIV.

That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping
one's self of everything.

This is a sufficiently dreadful and clear in-
stance of this tyranny, which, when once the
mind is taken prisoner by it, allows it to keep
to no rules of honesty, nor to be satisfied with
any additions to its gains. For we must seek
to put an end to this madness, not by riches,
but by stripping ourselves of them. Lastly,
when he (viz. Judas) had received the bag set
apart for the distribution to the poor, and in-
trusted to his care for this purpose, that he
might at least satisfy himself with plenty of
money, and set a limit to his avarice, yet his
plentiful supply only broke out into a still
greedier incitement of desire, so that he was
ready no longer secretly to rob the bag, but
actually to sell the Lord Himself. For the
madness of this avarice is not satisfied with
any amount of riches.

^ Negationis (Petschenig). Another reading is mcationis.

256

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER XXV.

Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and Judas, which they
underwent through the impulse of covetousness.

Lastly, the chief of the apostles, taught by
these instances, and knowing that one who
has any avarice cannot bridle it, and that it
cannot be put an end to by a large or small
sum of money, but only by the virtue of renun-
ciation of everything, punished with death
Ananias and Sapphira, who were mentioned
before, because they had kept back something
out of their property, that that death which
Judas had voluntarily met with for the sin of
betraying the Lord, they might also undergo
for their lying avarice.^ How closely do the
sin and punishment correspond in each case!
In the one case treachery, in the other false-
hood, was the result of covetousness. In the
one case the truth is betrayed, in the other
the sin of lying is committed. For though
the issues of their deeds may appear different,
yet they coincide in having one and the same
aim. For the one, in order to escape poverty,
desired to take back w^hat he had forsaken ;
the others, for fear lest they might become
poor, tried to keep back something out of j
their property, which they should have either |
offered to the Apostle in good faith, or have !
given entirely to the brethren. And so in |
each case there follows the judgment of death ;
because each sin sprang from the root of
covetousness. And so if against those who i
did not covet other persons' goods, but tried
to be sparing of their own, and had no desire
to acquire, but only the wish to retain, there
went forth so severe a sentence, what should
we think of those who desire to amass wealth,
without ever having had any of their own, and,
making a show of poverty before men, are
before God convicted of being rich, through
the passion of avarice ?

CHAPTER XXVI.

That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy.

And such are seen to be lepers in spirit and
heart, after the likeness of Gehazi, who, desir-
ing the uncertain riches of this world, was
covered with the taint of foul leprosy, through
which he left us a clear example that every
soul which is defiled with the stain of cupid-

CHAPTER XXVII.

Scripture proofs by which one who is aiming at perfection is
taught not to take back again what he has given up and
renounced.

If then through the desire of perfection you
have forsaken all things and followed Christ
who says to thee, '"Go sell all that thou hast,
and give to the poor, and thou shalt have
treasure in heaven: and come follow me,"-
why, having put your hand to the plough, do
you look back, so that you will be declared
by the voice of the same Lord not to be fit
for the kingdom of heaven ? ^ When secure on
the top of the gospel roof, why do you descend
to carry away something from the house, from
those things, namely, which beforetime you
despised.' When you are out in the field
and working at the virtues, why do you run
back and try to clothe yourself again with
what belongs to this world, which you stripped
off when you renounced it? * But if you were
hindered by poverty from having anything to
give up, still less ought you to amass what
you never had before. For by the grace of
the Lord you were for this purpose made ready
that you might hasten to him the more readily,
being hampered by no snares of wealth. But
let no one who is wanting in this be disap-
pointed; for there is no one who has not some-
thing to give up. He has renounced all the
possessions of this world, whoever has thor-
oughly eradicated the desire to possess them.

CHAPTER XXVIIL

That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by
stripping one's self bare of everything.

This then is the perfect victory over covet-
ousness : not to allow a gleam from the very
smallest scrap of it to remain in our heart, as
we know that we shall have no further power
of quenching it, if we cherish even the tiniest
bit of a spark of it in us.

CHAPTER XXIX.

How a monk can retain his poverty.

And we can only preserve this virtue unim-

ity is covered with the spiritual leprosy of I Pf^'^'^ '^ T '^""''1" '•" %"^«"^stery, and as
is ronnt<^H n«; nnrlpnn hpfnr. HnH ^he Apostle^ says, having food and clothing,

sin, and is counted as unclean before God
with a perpetual curse.

1 Cf. Acts V.

are therewith content.^

2 Matt. xix. 21.

^ Cf. S. Luke ix. 62.

♦ Cf. S. Luke xvii. 31.
B I Tim. vi. 8.

BOOK VIII.

257

CHAPTER XXX.

The remedies against the disease of covetousness.

Keeping then in mind the judgment of
Ananias and Sapphira let us dread keeping
back any of those things which we gave up
and vowed utterly to forsake. Let us also
fear the example of Gehazi, who for the sin
of covetousness was chastised with the pun-
ishment of perpetual leprosy,
us beware of acquiring that
we never formerly possessed,
dreading both the fault and the death of Judas,
let us with all the power that we have avoid
taking back any of that wealth which once we
cast away from us. Above all, considering
the state of our weak and shifty nature, let us
beware lest the day of the Lord come upon us
as a thief in the night, ^ and find our conscience
defiled even by a single penny; for this would
make void all the fruits of our renunciation
of the world, and cause that which was said

From this let
wealth which
Moreover also

to the rich man in the gospel to be directed
towards us also by the voice of the Lord:
"Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be re-
quired of thee: then whose shall those things
be which thou hast prepared? " ^ And taking
no thought for the morrow, let us never allow
ourselves to be enticed away from the rule of
the Coenobium.

CHAPTER XXXL

That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays
in the Ccenobium : and how one can remain there.

But we shall certainly not be suffered to
do this, nor even to remain under the rule of
a system, unless the virtue of patience, which
can only spring from humility as its source,
is first securely fixed and established in us.
For the one teaches us not to trouble any one
else; the other, to endure with magnanimity
wrongs offered to us.

BOOK VIII.

OF THE SPIRIT OF ANGER.

CHAPTER I.

How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how
many evils this passion produces.

In our fourth combat the deadly poison of
anger has to be utterly rooted out from the
inmost corners of our soul. For as long as
this remains in our hearts, and blinds with its
hurtful darkness the eye of the soul, we can
neither acquire right judgment and discre-
tion, nor gain the insight which springs from
an honest gaze, or ripeness of counsel, nor
can we be partakers of life, or retentive of
righteousness, or even have the capacity for
spiritual and true light: "for," says one,
"mine eye is disturbed by reason of anger." ^
Nor can we become partakers of wisdom, even
though we are considered wise by universal
consent, for "anger rests in the bosom of
fools." ^ Nor can we even attain immortal

1 I Thess. V. 4. 2 Ps. XXX. (xxxi.) 10. 3 Eccl. vii. 10 (LXX.).

life, although we are accounted prudent in the
opinion of everybody, for "anger destroys
even the prudent."^ Nor shall we be able
with clear judgment of heart to secure the con-
trolling power of righteousness, even though
we are reckoned perfect and holy in the esti-
I mation of all men, for "the wrath of man
I worketh not the righteousness of God." ^ Nor
! can we by any possibility acquire that esteem
1 and honour which is so frequently seen even in
I worldlings, even though we are thought noble
and honourable through the privileges of birth,
because "an angry man is dishonoured." ^ Nor
i again can we secure any ripeness of counsel,
even though we appear to be weighty, and
endowed with the utmost knowledge ; because
"an angry man acts without counsel." ^ Nor
can we be free from dangerous disturbances,
nor be without sin, even though no sort of
disturbances be brought upon us bv others;

< S. Luke xii. 20.

5 Prov. XV. I (LXX.).

6 S. James i. 20.

7 Prov. xi. 25 (LXX.).
S Prov. xiv. 17 (LXX )

258

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

because " a passionate man engenders quarrels,
but an angry man digs up "sins." ^

CHAPTER II.

Of those who say that anger is not injurious, if we are angry
with those who do wrong, since God Himself is said to be
angry.

We have heard some people trying to excuse
this most pernicious disease of the soul, in
such a way as to endeavour to extenuate it by a
rather shacking way of interpreting Scripture:
as they say that it is not injurious if we are
angry with the brethren who do wrong, since,
say they, God Himself is said to rage and to
be angry with those who either will not know
Him, or, knowing Him, spurn Him, as here:
" And the anger of the Lord was kindled against
His people ; " '" or where the prophet prays and
says, "O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger,
neither chasten me in thy displeasure;"^ not
understanding that, while they want to open
to men an excuse for a most pestilent sin, they
are ascribing to the Divine Infinity and Foun-
tain of all purity a taint of human passion.

CHAPTER in.

Of those things which are spoken of God anthropomorphically.

•

For if when these things are said of God
they are to be understood literally in a mate-
rial and gross signification, then also He sleeps,
as it is said, "Arise, wherefore sleepest thou,
O Lord?"* though it is elsewhere said of
Him: "Behold he that keepeth Israel shall
neither slumber nor sleep." ^ And He stands
and sits, since He says, " Heaven is my seat,
and earth the footstool for my feet : " ® though
He "measure out the heaven with his hand,
and holdeth the earth in his fist."'' And He
is "drunken with wine" as it is said, "The
Lord awoke like a sleeper, a mighty man,
drunken with wine;"^ He "who only hath
immortality and dwelleth in the light which
no man can approach unto : " ^ not to say any-
thing of the " ignorance " and " forgetfulness,"

1 Prov. xxix. 22 (LXX.) "Ai'rip 9ufiU)5>)9 iyfipei vciko<;, avr)p Se
6py(Ao« (^lapv^fv afjiapTiav. The old Latin as given by Sabatier
has " Vir aiiimosus parit zixas : vir autem iracundus effodit pcccata."
The verse is quoted by Gregory the Great in a passage which seems
a reminiscence of Cassian's words, witli the reachnp; effundit for
effodit (Moral V. xxxi.) Jerome's rendering in the Vulgate is quite
different: "Vir iracundus provocat zixas: et qui ad indignandum
facilis est erit ad peccandum proclivior."

2 Ps. cv. (cvi.) 40.

3 Ps. vi. 2.

4 Ps. xliii. (xliv ) 23.

5 Ps. cxx. (cxxi.) 4.

6 Isa. Ixvi. I.
1 Isa. xl. 12.

8 Ps. Ixxvii. (Ixxviii.) 65.

9 I Tim. vi. 16.

of which we often find mention in Holy Scrip-
ture : nor lastly of the outline of His limbs,
which are spoken of as arranged and ordered
like a man's; e.g., the hair, head, nostrils,
eyes, face, hands, arms, fingers, belly, and
feet: if we are willing to take all of which
according to the bare literal sense, we must
think of God as in fashion with the outline
of limbs, and a bodily form; which indeed is
shocking even to speak of,. and must be far
from our thoughts.

CHAPTER IV.

In what sense we should understand the passions and human
parts which are ascribed to the unchanging and incorporeal
God.

And so as without horrible profanity these
things cannot be understood literally of Him
who is declared by the authority of Holy
Scripture to be invisible, ineffable, incompre-
hensible, inestimable, simple, and uncom-
pounded, so neither can the passion of anger
and wrath be attributed to that unchangeable
nature without fearful blasphemy. For we
ought to see that the limbs signify the divine
powers and boundless operations of God,
which can only be represented to us by the
familiar expression of limbs: by the mouth
we should understand that His utterances are
meant, which are of His mercy continually
poured into the secret senses of the soul, or
which He spoke among our fathers and the
prophets : by the eyes we can understand the
boundless character of His sight with which
He sees and looks through all things, and so
nothing is hidden from Him of what is done
or can be done by us, or even thought. By
the expression "hands," we understand His
providence and work, by which He is the cre-
ator and author of all things; the arms are
the emblems of His might and government,
with which He upholds, rules and controls all
things. And not to speak of other things,
what else does the hoary hair of His head sig-
nify but the eternity and perpetuity of Deity,
through which He is without any beginning,,
and before all times, and excels all creatures?
So then also when we read of the anger or fury
of the Lord, we should take it not urBnoiTionoOw; ;
i.e., according to an unworthy meaning of
human passion,^" but in a sense worthy of God,
who is free from all passion; so that by this
we should understand that He is the judge
and avenger of all the unjust things which are
done in this world; and by reason of these

10 On the heresy of the Anthropomorphites see the notes on Con-
ference X. c. ii.

BOOK VIII.

259

terms and their meaning we should dread
Him as the terrible rewarder of our deeds,
and fear to do anything against His will. For
human nature is wont to fear those whom it
knows to be indignant, and is afraid of offend-
ing: as in the case of some most just judges,
avenging wrath is usually feared by those who
are tormented by some accusation of their
conscience; not indeed that this passion
exists in the minds of those M'ho are soins: to
judge with perfect equity, but that, while they
so fear, the disposition of the judge towards
them is that which is the precursor ot a just
and impartial execution of the law. And this,
with whatever kindness and gentleness it may
be conducted, is deemed by those who are
justly to be punished to be the most savage
wrath and vehement anger. It would be tedi-
ous and outside the scope of the present work
were we to explain all the things which are
spoken metaphorically of God in Holy Scrip-
ture, with human figures. Let it be enough
for our present purpose, which is aimed against
the sin of wrath, to have said this that no one
may through ignorance draw down upon him-
self a cause of this evil and of eternal death,
out of those Scriptures in which he should
seek for saintliness and immortality as the
remedies to bring life and salvation.

CHAPTER V.

How calm a monk ought to be.

And so a, monk aiming at perfection, and
desiring to strive lawfully in his spiritual
combat, should be free from all sin of anger
and wrath, and should listen to the charge
which the "chosen vessel " gives him. "Let
all anger," says he, and wrath, and clamour,
and evil speaking, be taken aW'p.y from among
you, with all malice." ^ \Vhe«r-he says, "Let
all anger be taken away from you, " he excepts
none whatever as necessary or useful for us.
And if need be, he should at once treat an
erring brother in such a way that, while he
manages to apply a remedy to one afifiicted
with perhaps a slight fever, he may not by
his wrath involve himself in a more dangerous
malady of blindness. For he who wants to
heal another's wound ought to be in good
health and free from every affection of weak-
ness himself, lest that saying of the gospel
should be used to him, " Physician, first heal
thyself;"^ and lest, seeing a mote . in his
brother's eye, he see not the beam in h-is own
eye, for how will he see to cast out the mote
from his brother's eye, who has the beam of
anger in his own eye?^

1 Eph. iv. 31. 2 S. Luke iv. 23. 3 Cf. S. Matt. vii. 3-5.

CHAPTER VL

Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath.

From almost every cause the emotion of
wrath boils over, and blinds the eyes of the
soul, and, bringing the deadly beam of a
worse disease over the keenness of our sight,
prevents us from seeing the sun of righteous-
ness. It makes no difference whether gold
plates, or lead, or what metal you please, are
placed over our eyelids, the value of the metal
makes no difference in our blindness.

CHAPTER VIL

Of the only case in which anger is useful to us.

We have, it must be admitted, a use for
anger excellently implanted in us for which
alone it is useful and profitable for us. to ad-
mit it, viz., when we are indignant and rage
against the lustful emotions of our heart, and
are vexed that the things which we are ashamed
to do or say before men have risen up in
the lurking places of our heart, as we tremble
at the presence of the angels, and of God
Himself, who pervades all things everywhere,
and fear with the utmost dread the eye of Him
from whom the secrets of our hearts cannot
possibly be hid.

CHAPTER VIIL

Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger
was rightly felt.

And at any rate (this is the case), when we
are agitated against this very anger, because
it has stolen on us against our brother, and
when in wrath we expel its deadly incitements,
nor suffer it to have a dangerous lurking place
in the recesses of our heart. To be angry in
this fashion even that prophet teaches us who
had so completely expelled it from his own
feelings that he would not retaliate even on
his enemies and those delivered by God into
his hands: when he says "Be ye angry and
sin not."^ For he, when he had longed for
water from the well of Bethlehem, and had
been given it by his mighty men, who had
brought it through the midst of the hosts of
the enemy, at once poured it out on the
ground: and thus in his anger extinguished
the delicious feeling of his desire, and poured
it out to the Lord, without satisfying the long-
ing that he had expressed, saying: "That be

* Ps. iv. 5.

2 6o

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

far from me that I should do this! Shall I
drink the blood of those men who went forth,
on the danger of their souls? "-^ And when
Shimei threw stones at King David and cursed
him, in his hearing, before everybody, and
Abishai, the son of Zeruiah, the captain of the
host, wished to cut off his head and avenge
the insult to the king, the blessed David,
moved with pious wrath against this dreadful
suggestion of his, and keeping the due meas-
ure of humility and a strict patience, said with
imperturbable gentleness, "What have I to
do with you, ye sons of Zeruiah? Let him
alone that he may curse. For the Lord hath
commanded him to curse David. And who
is he who shall dare to say. Why hast thou
done this? Behold my son, who came forth
from my loins, seeks my life, and how much
more this son of Benjamin? Let him alone,
that he may curse, according to the command
of the Lord. It may be the Lord wall look
upon my aftliction, and return to me good for
this cursing to-day."'^

CHAPTER IX.

Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves.

And some are commanded to "be angry"
after a wholesome fashion, but with our own
selves, and with evil thoughts that arise, and
"not to sin," viz., by bringing them to a bad
issue. Finally, the next verse explains this to
be the meaning more clearly: "The things you
say in your hearts, be sorry for them on your
beds:"^ i.e., whatever you think of in your
hearts when sudden and nervous excitements
rush in on you, correct and amend with whole-
some sorrow, lying as it were on a bed of rest,
and removing by the moderating influence of
counsel all noise and disturbance of wrath.
Lastly, the blessed Apostle, when he made use
of the testimony of this verse, and said, " Be
ye angry and sin not," added, "Let not the
sun go down upon your wrath, neither give
place to the devil."* If it is dangerous for
the sun of righteousness to go down upon our
wrath, and if when we are angry we straight-
way give place to the devil in our hearts, how
is it that above he charges us to be angry,
saying, " Be ye angry, and sin not " ? Does he
not evidently mean this: be ye angry with
your faults and your tempers, lest, if you ac-
quiesce in them, Christ, the sun of righteous-
ness, may on account of your anger begin to
go down on your darkened minds, and when
He departs you may furnish a place for the
devil in your hearts?

1 2 Sam. xxiii. 17.
3 2 Sam. xvi. 10-12.

3 Ps. iv. 5.
i Epli. iv. 26.

CHAPTER X.

Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon
your wrath.

And of this sun God clearly makes mention
by the prophet, when He says, " But to those
that fear my name the sun of righteousness
shall arise with healing in His wings." ^ And
this again is said to "go down " at midday on
sinners and false prophets, and those who are
angry, when the prophet says, " Their sun is
gone down at noon."^ And at any rate
"tropically"^ the mind, that is the >ov; or
reason, which is fairly called the sun because
it looks over all the thoughts and discernings
of the heart, should not be put out by the sin
of anger : lest when it " goes down " the shad-
ows of disturbance, together with the devil
their author, fill all the feelings of our hearts,
and, overwhelmed by the shadows of wrath,
as in a murky night, we know not what we
ought to do. In this sense it is that we have
brought forward this passage of the Apostle,
handed down to us by the teaching of the
elders, because it was needful, even at the
risk of a somewhat lengthy discourse, to show
how they felt with regard to anger, for they
do not permit it even for a moment to effect
an entrance into our heart : - observing with the
utmost care that saying of the gospel: "\^^ho-
soever is angry with his brother is in danger
of the judgment."* But if it be lawful to be
angry up till sunset, the surfeit of our wrath
and the vengeance of our anger will be able to
give full play, to passion and dangerous ex-
citement before that sun inclines towards its
setting.^

CHAPTER XL

Of those to whose wrath even the going down of the sun sets

no limit.

But what am I to say of those (and I can-
not say it without shame on my own part) to
whose implacability even the going down of
the sun sets no bound : but prolonging it for
several days, and nourishing rancorous feel-
ings against those against whom they have
been excited, they say in words that they are
not angry, but in fact and deed they show that

.1 Mai. iv. 2.

6 Amos viii. 9.

7 On the different senses of Scripture see the note on Conference
XIV. viii.

8 S. .Matt. y. 22.

9 Petsclicnis's text is as follows: Cetenifn si usque ad occasuv!
soils iicitur sit irasci, ante /uroris saiietas et ultrices irce commo-
tionetn poterutit noxiie perlurbaiionis explere, qunm sol isic ad
locum sui vergat occasus. That of Gazms has " ante perturba-
t tones noxiae poierunt f uroris satieiatetn et ultricis ira commotionem
explere, etc.

BOOK VIII.

261

they ^re extremely disturbed? .For they do
not speak to them pleasantly, nor address them
with ordinary civility, and they think that they
are not doing wrong in this, because they do not
seek to avenge themselves for their upset. But
since they either do not dare, or at any rate
are not able to show their anger openly, and
give place to it, they drive in, to their own
detriment, the poison of anger, and secretly
cherish it in their hearts, and silently feed on
it in themselves; without shaking off by an
effort of mind their sulky disposition, but di-
gesting it as the days go by, and somewhat
mitigating it after a while.

CHAPTER XII.

How this is the end of temper and anger when a man carries
it into act as lar as he can.

But it looks as if even this was not the end
of vengeance to every one, but some can only
completely satisfy their wrath or sulkiness if
they carry out the impulse of anger as far as
they are able; and this we know to be the case
with those who restrain their feelings, not
from desire of calming them, but simply from
want of opportunity of revenge. For they can
do nothing more to those with whom they are
angry, e;ccept speak to them without ordinary
civility: or it looks as if anger was* to be
moderated only in action, and not to be alto-
gether rooted out from its hiding place in our
bosom : so that, overwhelmed by its shadows,
we are vmable not only to admit the light of
wholesome counsel and of knowledge, but also
to be a temple of the Holy Spirit, so long as
the spirit of anger dwells in us. For wrath
that is nursed in the heart, although it may
not injure men who stand by, yet excludes the
splendour of the radiance of the Holy Ghost,
equally with wrath that is openly manifested.

CHAPTER XIII.

That we should not retain our anger even for an instant.

Or how can we think that the Lord would
have it retained even for an instant, since He
does not permit us to offer the spiritual sacri-
fices of our prayers, if we are aware that an-
other has any bitterness against us: saying,
" If then thou bringest thy gift to the altar and
there rememberest that thy brother hath aught
against thee, leave there thy gift at the altar
and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy
brother, and then come and offer thy gift."-'
How then may we retain displeasure against

I S. Matt. V. 23, 24.

our brother, I will not say for several clays,
but even till the going down of the sun, if we
are not allowed to offer our prayers to God
While he has anything against us.' And yet
we are commanded by the Apostle : " Pray
without ceasing; " ^ and "in every place lift-
ing up holy hands without wrath and disput-
ing."^ It remains then either that we never
pray at all, retaining this poison in our hearts,
and become guilty in regard of this apostolic
or evangelic charge, in which we are bidden
to pray everywhere and without ceasing; or
else if, deceiving ourselves, we venture to-
pour forth our prayers, contrary to His com-
mand, we must know that we are offerins: to
God no prayer, but an obstinate temper with
a rebellious spirit.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of reconciliation with our brother.

And because we often spurn the brethren
who are injured and saddened, and despise
them, and say that they were not hurt by any
fault of ours, the Healer of souls, who knows
all secrets, wishing utterly to eradicate all
opportunities of anger from our hearts, not
only commands us to forgive if we have been
wronged, and to be reconciled with our broth-
ers, and keep no recollection of wrong or inju-
ries against them, but He also gives a similar
charge, that in case we are aware that they
have anything against us, whether justly or
unjustly, we should leave our gift, that is,
postpone our prayers, and hasten first to offer
satisfaction to them ; and so when our brother's
cure is first effected, we may bring the offer-
ing of our prayers without blemish. For the
common Lord of all does not care so much for
our homage as to lose in one what He gains in
another, through displeasure being allowed to
reign in us. For in anyone's loss He suffers
some loss, who desires and looks for the sal-
vation of all His servants in one and the same
way. And therefore our prayer will lose its
effect, if our brother has anything against us,
just as much as if we were cherishing feelings
of bitterness against him in a swelling and
wrathful spirit.

CHAPTER XV.

How the Old Law would root out anger not only from the
actions but from the thoughts.

But why should we spend any more time
over evangelic and apostolic precepts, when
even the old law, which is thought to be some-

* I Thess. V. 17.

3 I Tim. ii. 8.

262

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

what slack, guards against the same thing,
when it says, " Thou shalt not hate thy brother
in thine heart;" and again, "Be not mindful
of the injury of thy citizens; "i and again,
" The ways of those who preserve the recollec-
tion of wrongs are towards death " ? ^ You see
there too that wickedness is restrained not
only in action, but also in the secret thoughts,
since it is commanded that hatred be utterly
rooted out from the heart, and not merely
retaliation for, but the very recollection of, a
wrong done.

CHAPTER XVI.

How useless is the retirement of those who do not give up
their bad manners.

Sometimes when we have been overcome by
pride or impatience, and we want to improve
our rough and bearish manners, we complain
that we require solitude, as if we should find
the virtue of patience there where nobody pro-
vokes us : and we apologize for our careless-
ness, and say that the reason of our disturbance
does not spring from our own impatience, but
from thfe fault of our brethren. And while we
lay the blame of our fault on others, we shall
never be able to reach the goal of patience
and perfection.

CHAPTER XVII.

That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's
will, but lies in our own control.

The chief part then of our improvement and
peace of mind must not be made to depend
on another's will, which cannot possibly be
subject to our authority, but it lies rather in
our own control. And so the fact that we are
not angry ought not to result from another's
perfection, but from our own virtue, which is
acquired, not by somebody else's patience,
but by our own long-suffering.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the
things in whicli we make progress there.

Further, it is those who are perfect and
purified from all faults who ought to seek the
desert, and when they have thoroughly exter-
minated all their faults amid the assembly of
the brethren, they should enter it not by way
of cowardly flight, but for the purpose of
divine contemplation, and with the desire

* Lev. xix. 17, 18.

» Prov. xii.28(LXX.)-

of deeper insight into heavenly things, which
can only be gained in solitude by those who
are perfect. For whatever faults we bring
with us uncured into the desert, we shall find
to remain concealed in us and not to be got
rid of. For just as when the character has
been improved, solitude can lay open to it the
purest contemplation, and reveal the knowl-
edge of spiritual mysteries to its clear gaze,
so it generally not only preserves but intensi-
fies the faults of those who have undergone
no correction. For a man appears to himself
to be patient and humble, just as long as he
comes across nobody in intercourse; but
he will presently revert to his former nature,
whenever the chance of any sort of passion
occurs: I mean that those faults will at once
appear on the surface which were lying hid,
and, like unbridled horses diligently fed up
during too long a time of idleness, dash forth
from the barriers the more eagerly and fiercely,
to the destruction of their charioteer. For
when the opportunity for practising them
among men is removed, our faults will more
and more increase in us, unless we have first
been purified from them. And the mere shadow
of patience, which, when M'e mixed with our
brethren, we seemed fancifully to possess, at
least out of respect for them and publicity, we
lose altogether through sloth and carelessness.

CHAPTER XIX.

An illustration to help in forming an opinion on those who are
only patient when they are not tried by any one.

But it is like all poisonous kinds of serpents
or of wild beasts, which, while they remain

' in solitude and their own lairs, are still not
harmless;^ for they cannot really be said to
be harmless, because they are not actually

j hurting anybody. For this results in their
case, not from any feeling of goodness, but
from the exigencies of solitude, and when they
have secured an opportunity of hurting some
one, at once they produce the poison stored
up in them, and show the ferocity of their
nature. And so in the case of men who are
aiming at perfection, it is not enough not to
be angry with wcv/. For we recollect that
when we were living in solitude a feeling of
irritation would creep over us against our pen
because it was too large or too small ; against
our penknife when it cut badly and with a
blunt edge what we wanted cut; and against
a flint if by chance when we were rather
late and hurrying to the reading, a spark of
fire flashed out, so that we could not remove

3 Reading /ton innoxia CPetschenig).

BOOK VIII.

and get rid of our perturbation of mind except
by cursing the senseless matter, or at least
the devil. Wherefore for a method of perfec-
tion it will not be of any use for there to be a
dearth of men against whom our anger might
be roused: since, if patience has not already
been acquired, the feelings of passion which
still dwell in our hearts can equally well
spend themselves on dumb things and paltry
objects, and not allow us to gain a continuous
state of peacefulness, or to be free from our
remaining faults: unless perhaps we think
that some advantage and a sort of cure may
be gained for our passion from the fact that
inanimate and speechless things cannot pos-
sibly reply to our curses and rage, nor provoke
our ungovernable temper to break out into a
worse madness of passion.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the way in which anger should be banished according to the

gospel.

Wherefore if we wish to gain the substance
of that divine reward of which it is said,
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall
see God," 1 we ought not only to banish it
from our actions, but entirely to root it out
from our inmost soul. For it will not be of
any good to have checked anger in words, and
not to have shown it in deeds, if God, from
whom the secrets of the heart are not hid, sees
that it remains in the secret recesses of our
bosom. For the word of the gospel bids us
destroy the roots of our faults rather than the
fruits; for these, when the incitements are all
removed, will certainly not put forth shoots
any more; and so the mind will be able to
continue in all patience and holiness, when
this anger has been removed, not from the
surface of acts and deeds, but from the 'very
innermost thoughts. And, therefore to avoid
the commission of murder, anger and hatred are
cut off, without which the crime of murder ■
cannot possibly be committed. For "whoso-
ever is angry with his brother, is in danger of
the judgment;'"- and ''whosoever hateth his
brother is a murderer;"^ viz., because in his
heart he desires to kill him, whose blood we
know that he has certainly not shed among
men with his own hand or with a weapon;
yet, owing to his burst of anger, he is declared
to be a murderer by God, who renders to each
man, not merely for the result of his actions,
but for his purpose and desires and wishes,
either a reward or a punishment; according
to that which He Himself says through the

prophet : " But I come that I may gather them
together with all nations and tongues; " * and
i'heir thoughts between themselves

again :

5 u

accusing or also defending one another, in
the day when God shall judge the secrets of
men."^

CHAPTER XXI.

Whether we ought to admit the addition of "without a
cause," in that which is written in the Gospel, "whosoever
is angry with his brother," etc.

But you should know that in this, which is
found in many copies, " Whosoever is angry
with his brother without a cause, is in danger
of the judgment,"'^ the words '"without a
cause" are superfluous, and were added by
those who did not think that anger for just
causes was to be banished: since certainly
nobody, however unreasonably he is disturbed,
would say that he was angry without a cause.
Wherefore it appears to have been added
by those who did not understand the drift of
Scripture, w:hich intended altogether to ban-
ish the incentive to anger, and to reserve no
occasion whatever for indignation; lest while
we were commanded to be angry with a cause,
an opportunity for being angry without a cause
might occur to us. For the end and aim of
patience consists, not in being angry with a
good reason, but in not being angry at all.
Although I know that by some this very ex-
pression, ''without a cause," is taken to mean
that he is angry without a cause who when
he is angered is not allowed to seek for ven-
geance. But it is better so to take it as w^e
find it written in many modern copies and all
the ancient ones.

CHAPTER XXII.

The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts.

1 S. Matt. V. 8.

2 lb.

3 I John iii. 15.

Wherefore the athlete of Christ who strives
lawfully ought thoroughly to root out the
feeling of wrath. And it will be a sure rem-
edy for this disease, if in the first place we
make up our mind that we ought never to be
angry at all, whether for good or bad reasons :
as we know that we shall at once lose the
light of discernment, and the security of good
counsel, and our very uprightness, and the
temperate character of righteousness, if the

* Isaiah Ixvi 18.

5 £■/ rKri«;« (Petschenig): et Apostolus (Gazxus).

6 Rom. ii. 15, 16.

7 S. Matt. V. 22. The word (Ikti is said by Westcott and Host
to be " Western and Syrian." It is wanting in N, B, Origen, and
was not admitted by Jerome in the Vulgate.

264

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

main light of our heart has been darkened by
its shadows : next, that the purity of our soul
will presently be clouded, and that it cannot
possibly be made a temple for the Holy Ghost
while the spirit of anger resides in us; lastly,

mankind, we should realize daily that
we are soon to depart from the body,
and that our continence and chastity, our
renunciation of all our possessions, our
contempt of wealth, our efforts in fastings
that we should consider that we ought never and vigils will not help us at all, if solely on
to pray, nor pour out our prayer to God, account of anger and hatred eternal pun-
ishments are awarded to us by the judge of
the world.

while we are angry. And above all, having
before our eyes the uncertain condition of

BOOK IX.

OF THE SPIRIT OF DEJECTION.

CHAPTER I.

How our fifth combat is against the spirit of dejection, and of
the harm which it inflicts upon the soul.

In our fifth combat we have to resist the
pangs of gnawing dejection : for if this, through
separate attacks made at random, and by hap-
hazard and casual changes, has secured an
opportunity of gaining possession of our mind,
it keeps us back at all times from all insight
in divine contemplation, and utterly ruins
and depresses the mind that has fallen away
from its complete state of purity. It does not
allow it to say its prayers with its usual glad-
ness of heart, nor permit it to rely on the
comfort of reading the sacred writings, nor
suffer it to be quiet and gentle with the breth-
ren; it makes it impatient and rough in all
the duties of work and devotion: and, as all
wholesome counsel is lost, and steadfastness
of heart destroyed, it makes the feelings
almost mad and drunk, and crushes and over-
whelms them with penal despair.

CHAPTER II.

Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed.

Wherefore if we are anxious to exert our-
selves lawfully in the struggle of our spiritual
combat we ought with no less care to set about
healing this malady also. For "as the moth
injures the garment, and the worm the wood,
so dejection the heart of man. " ^ With suffi-
cient clearness and appropriateness has the

1 Prov. XXV. 20 (LXX.).

Divine Spirit expressed the force of this dan-
gerous and most injurious fault.

CHAPTER III.

To what the soul may be compared which is a prey to the
attacks of dejection.

For the garment that is moth-eaten has no
longer any commercial value or good use to
'which it can be put; and in the same way ^
: the wood that is worm-eaten is no longer worth
anything for ornamenting even an ordinary
building, but is destined to be burnt in the
fire. So therefore the soul also which is a
prey to the attacks of gnawing dejection will
be useless for that priestly garment which,
according to the prophecy of the holy David,
the ointment of the Holy Spirit coming down
from heaven, first on Aaron's beard, then on
his skirts, is wont to assume: as it is said,
"It i*s like the ointment upon the head which
ran down upon Aaron's beard, which ran down
to the skirts of his clothing.^ Nor can it have
anything to do with the building or ornamen-
tation of that spiritual temple of which Paul
as a wise master builder laid the foundations,
saying, "Ye are the temple of God, and the
Sp'irit of God dwelleth in you:"* and what
the beams of this are like the bride tells us in
the Song of Songs: "Our rafters are of cy-
press: the beams of our houses are of cedar." *
And therefore those sorts of wood are chosen
for the temple of God which are fragrant and
not liable to rot, and which are not subject to
decay from age nor to be worm-eaten.

2 Totidem is used here by Cassian for itidem, as in III. ix.

3 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 2.

4 I Cor. iii. 16 ; vi. 16.

5 Cant. i. 16 (LXX.).

BOOK IX.

265

CHAPTER IV.

Whence and in what way dejection arises.

But sometimes it is found to result from
the fault of previous anger, or to spring from
the desire of some gain which has not been
realized, when a man has found that he has
failed in his hope of securing those things
which he had planned. But sometimes with-
out any apparent reason for our being driven
to fall into this misfortune, we are by the
instigation of our crafty enemy suddenly de-
pressed with so great a gloom that we cannot
receive with ordinary civility the visits of
those who are near and dear to us ; and what-
ever subject of conversation is started by them,
we regard it as ill-timed and out of place ; and
we can give them no civil answer, as the gall
of bitterness is in possession of every corner of
our heart.

CHAPTER V.

That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other
people, but by our own.

Whence it is clearly proved that the pains
of disturbances are not always caused in us
by other people's faults, but rather by our
own, as we have stored up in ourselves the
causes of offence, and the seeds of faults,
which, as soon as a shower of temptation
waters our soul, at once burst forth into shoots
and fruits.

CHAPTER VI.

That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed
by falling through a long course of carelessness.'

For no one is ever driven to sin by being
provoked through another's fault, unless he
has the fuel of evil stored up in his own heart.
Nor should we imagine that a man has been
deceived suddenly when he has looked on a
woman and fallen into the abyss of shameful
lust: but rather that, owing to the opportunity
of looking on her, the symptoms of disease
which were hidden and concealed in his in-
most soul have been brought to the surface.

CHAPTER VII.

That we ought not to give up intercourse with our brethren
in order to seek after perfection, but should rather constantly
cultivate the virtue of patience.

And so God, the creator of all things, hav-
ing regard above everything to the amendment
of His own work, and because the roots and

1 Incuriam (Petschenig) : Itijuriam (Gazsus).

causes of our falls are found not in others, but
in ourselves, commands that we should not
give up intercourse with our brethren, nor
avoid those who we think have been hurt by
us, or by whom w^e have been offended, but
bids us pacify them, knowing that perfection
of heart is not secured by separating from men
so much as by the virtue of patience, \^■hich
when it is securely held, as it can keep us at
peace even with those who hate peace, so, if
it has not been acquired, it makes us perpet-
ually differ from those Avho are perfect and
better than we are: for opportunities for dis-
turbance, on account of which we are eager to
get away from those with whom we are con-
nected, W'ill not be wanting so long as we are
living among men ; and therefore we shall not
escape altogether, but only change the causes
of dejection on account of which we separated
from our former friends.

CHAPTER VIII.

That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to
get on with everybody,

Vv'e must then do our best to endeavour to
amend our faults and correct our manners.
And if we succeed in correcting them we shall
certainly be at peace, I will not say with men,
but even with beasts and the brute creation,
according to what is said in the book of the
blessed Job: "For the beasts of the field will
be at peace with thee ; " ^ for we shall not fear
offences coming from without, nor will any
occasion of falling trouble us from outside, if
the roots of such are not admitted and im-
planted within in our own selves: for "they
have great peace who love thy law, O God;
and they have no occasion of falling. " ^

CHAPTER IX.

Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of
salvation.

There is, too, another still more objection-
able sort of dejection, which produces in the
guilty soul no amendment of life or correction
of faults, but the most destructive despair:
which did not make Cain repent after the
murder of his brother, or Judas, after the be-
trayal, hasten to relieve himself by making
amends, but drove him to hang himself in
despair.

2 Job V. 23.

3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix. ) 165.

266

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER X.

Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us.

And so we must see that dejection is only
useful to us in one case, when we yield to it
either in penitence for sin, or through being
inflamed with the desire of perfection, or the
contemplation of future blessedness. And of
this the blessed Apostle says : " The sorrow
which is according to God worketh repentance
steadfast unto salvation: but the sorrow of the
world worketh death. " ^

CHAPTER XI.

How we can decide what is useful and the sorrow according to
God, and what is devilish and deadly.

But that dejection and sorrow which "work-
eth repentance steadfast unto salvation " is
obedient, civil, humble, kindly, gentle, and
patient, as it springs from the love of God,
and unweariedly extends itself from desire of
perfection to every bodily grief and sorrow of
spirit; and somehow or other rejoicing and
feeding on hope of its own profit preserves all
the gentleness of courtesy and forbearance, as
it has in itself all the fruits of the Holy Spirit
of which the same Apostle gives the list : " But
the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, for-
bearance,goodness, benignity, faith, mildness,
modesty."^ But the other kind is rough,
impatient, hard, full of rancour and useless
grief and penal despair, and breaks down the
man on whom it has fastened, and hinders
him from energy and wholesome sorrow, as it
is unreasonable, and not only hampers the
efficacy of his prayers, but actually destroys

all those fruits of the Spirit of which we spoke,
which that other sorrow knows how to pro-
duce.

CHAPTER XII.

That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three
ways, all sorrow and dejection should be resisted as hurtful.

Wherefore except that sorrow which is
endured either for the sake of saving peni-
tence, or for the sake of aiming at perfection,
or for the desire of the future, all sorrow and
dejection must equally be resisted, as belong-
ing to this world, and being that which " work-
eth death, " and must be entirely expelled from
our hearts like the spirit of fornication and
covetousness and anger.

CHAPTER XIII.

The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts.

We should then be able to expel this most
injurious passion from our hearts, so that by
spiritual meditation we may keep our mind
constantly occupied with hope of the future
and contemplation of the promised blessed-
ness. For in this way we shall be able to
get the better of all those sorts of dejection,
whether those which flow from previous anger
or those which come to us from disappoint-
ment of gain, or from some loss, or those
which spring from a wrong done to us, or those
which arise from an unreasonable disturbance
of mind, or those which bring on us a deadly
despair, if, ever joyful with an insight into
things eternal and future, and continuing
immovable, we are not depressed by present
accidents, or over-elated by prosperity, but
look on each condition as uncertain and likely
soon to pass away.

BOOK X.

OF THE SPIRIT OF ACCIDIE?

CHAPTER I.

How our sixth combat is against the spirit of accidie, and what
its character is.

Our sixth combat is with what the Greeks
call u>fr/()/«, which we may term weariness or
distress of heart. This is akin to dejection,
and is especially trying to solitaries, and a
dangerous and frequent foe to dwellers in the

1 2 Cor. vii. lo. 2 Gal. v. aa, 23. 3 See the note on Bk. V. c. i.

desert; and especially disturbing to a monk
about the sixth hour, like some fever which
seizes him at stated times, bringing the burn-
ing heat of its attacks on the sick man at
usual and regular hours. Lastly, there are
some of the elders who declare that this is
the "midday demon" spoken of in the nine-
tieth Psalm.*

4 Ps. xc. (xci.) 6., where the Latin " et daemonio meridiano "
follows the LXX. xal Saijotoi'iou ^ecrrj^jSpii-oO, instead of " the de-
struction that wasteth at noonday."

BOOK X.

267

CHAPTER II.

A description of accidie, and the way in wliich it creeps over
the heart of a monk, and the injury it inflicts on tl\e soul.

And when this has taken possession of
some unhappy soul, it produces dislike of the
place, disgust with the cell, and disdain and
contempt of the brethren who dwell with him
or at a little distance, as if they were careless
or unspiritual. It also makes the man lazy
and sluggish about all manner of work which
has to be done within the enclosure of his
dormitory. It does not suffer him to stay in
his cell, or to take any pains about reading,
and he often groans because he can do no
good while he stays there, and complains and
sighs because he can bear no spiritual fruit
so long as he is joined to that society; and he
complains that he is cut off from spiritual
gain, and is of no use in the place, as if he
were one who, though he could govern others
and be useful to a great number of people,
yet was edifying none, nor profiting any one
by his teaching and doctrine. He cries up
distant monasteries and those which are a
long way off, and describes such places as
more profitable and better suited for salvation ;
and besides this he paints the intercourse
with the brethren there as sweet and full of
spiritual life. On the other' hand, he says
that everything about him is rough, and not
only that there is nothing edifying among the
brethren who are stopping there, but also that
even food for the body cannot be procured
without great difficulty. Lastly he fancies
that he will never be well while he stays in
that place, unless he leaves his cell (in which
he is sure to die if he stops in it any longer)
and takes himself off from thence as quickly
as possible. Then the fifth or sixth hour
brings him such bodily weariness and longing
for food that he seems to himself worn out
and wearied as if with a long journey, or some
very heavy work, or as if he had put off taking
food durinij a fast of two or three davs. Then
besides this he looks about anxiously this way
and that, and sighs that none of the brethren
come to see him, and often goes in and out of
his cell, and frequently gazes up at the sun,
as if it was too slow in setting, and so a kind
of unreasonable confusion of mind takes pos-
session of him like some foul darkness,^ and
makes him idle and useless for every spiritual
work, so that he imagines that no cure for so
terrible an attack can be found in anything
except visiting some one of the brethren, or
in the solace of sleep alone. Then the disease

* Velui tcetra s^ippletur caligine (Petschenig) ; the text of Ga-
zaeus reads terra for tcetra.

suggests that he ought to show courteous and
friendly hospitalities to the brethren, and pay
visits to the sick, whether near at hand or far
off. He talks too about some dutiful and
religious offices; that those kinsfolk ought to
be inquired after, and that he ought to go and
see them oftener ; that it would be a real work
of piety to go more frequently to visit that
religious woman, devoted to the service of
God, who is deprived of all support of kindred ;
and that it would be a most excellent thing to
get what is needful for her who is neglected
and despised by her own kinsfolk; and that
he ought piously to devote his time to these
things instead of staying uselessly and with
no profit in his cell.

CHAPTER HI.

Of the different ways in which accidie overcomes a monk.

And so the wretched soul, embarrassed by
such contrivances of the enemy, is disturbed,
until, worn out by the spirit of accidie, as by
some strong battering ram, it either learns to
sink into slumber, or, driven out from the
confinement of its cell, accustoms itself to
seek for consolation under these attacks in
visiting some brother, only to be afterwards
weakened the more by this remedy which it
seeks for the present. For more frequently
and more severely will the enemy attack one
who, when the battle is joined, will as he well
knows immediately turn his back, and whom he
sees to look for safety neither in victory nor
in fighting but in flight: until little by little
he is drawn away from his cell, and begins to
forget the object of his profession, which is
nothing but meditation and contemplation of
that divine purity which excels all things, and
which can only be gained by silence and con-
tinually remaining in the cell, and by medita-
tion, and so the soldier of Christ becomes a
runaway from His service, and a deserter, and
''entangles himself in secular business," with-
out at all pleasing Him to whom he engaged
himself.''^

CHAPTER IV.

How accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the
virtues.

All the inconveniences of this disease are
admirably expressed by David in a single
verse, where he says, " My soul slept from
weariness,"^ that is, from accidie. Quite

' 2 Tim. ii. 4.

2 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 28, wliere the LXX. has kvxKTTa^^v r\ vl/uxT
fiou OTTO aKJjSias.

268

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

rightly does he say, not that his body, but that
his soul slept. For in truth the soul which
is wounded by the shaft of this passion does
sleep, as regards all contemplation of the vir-
tues and insight of the spiritual senses.

CHAPTER V.

How tlie attack of accidie is twofold.

And so the true Christian athlete who de-
sires to strive lawfully in the lists of perfec-
tion, should hasten to expel this disease also
trom the recesses of his soul ; and should
strive against this most evil spirit of accidie
in both directions, so that he may neither fall
stricken through by the shaft of slumber, nor
be driven out from the monastic cloister, even
though under some pious excuse or pretext,
and depart as a runaway.

CHAPTER VI.

How injurious are the effects of accidie.

And whenever it begins in any degree to
overcome any one, it either makes him stay in
his cell idle and lazy, without making any
spiritual progress, or it drives him out from
thence and makes him restless and a wan-
derer, and indolent in the matter of all kinds
of work, and it makes him continually go
round the cells of the brethren and the mon-
asteries, wilh an eye to nothing but this; viz.,
where or with what excuse he can presently
procure some refreshment. For the mind of
an idler cannot think of anything but food
and the belly, until the society of some man
or woman, equally cold and indifferent, is
secured, and it loses itself in their affairs and
business, and is thus little by little ensnared
by dangerous occupations, so that, just as if
it were bound up in the coils of a serpent, it
can never disentangle itself again and return
to the perfection of its former profession.

CHAPTER VII.

Testimonies from the Apostle concerning the spirit of accidie.

The blessed Apostle, like a true and spir-
itual physician, either seeing this disease,
which springs from the spirit of accidie, al-
ready creeping in, or foreseeing, through the
revelation of the Holy Spirit, that it would
arise among monks, is quick to anticipate it
by the healing medicines of his directions.

For in writing to the Thessalonians, and at
first, like a skilful and excellent physician,
applying to the infirmity of his patients the
soothing and gentle remedy of his words, and
beginning with charity, and praising them in
that point, that ^ this deadly wound, having
been treated with a milder remedy, might lose
its angry festering and more easily bear severer
treatment, he says : " But concerning brotherly
charity ye have no need that I write to you :
for you yourselves are taught of God to love
one another. For this ye do toward all the
brethren in the whole of Macedonia."*'^ He
first began with the soothing application of
praise, and made their ears submissive and
ready for the remedy of the healing words.
Then he proceeds : " But we ask you, brethren,
to abound more." Thus far he soothes them
with kind and gentle words; for fear lest he
should find them not yet prepared to receive
their perfect cure. Why is it that you ask,
O Apostle, that they may abound more in
charity, of which you had said above, "But
concerning brotherly charity we have no need
to write to you " ? And why is it necessary
that you should say to them : " But w^e ask
you to abound more," when they did not need
to be written to at all on this matter ? especially
as you add the reason why they do not need
it, saying, "For you yourselves have been
taught of God to love one another." And
you add a third thing still more important:
that not only have they been taught of God,
but also that they fulfil in deed that which
they are taught. "For ye do this," he says,
not to one or two, but "to all the brethren; "
and not to your own citizens and friends only,
but "in the whole of Macedonia." Tell us
then, I pray, why it is that you so particularly
begin with this. Again he proceeds, " But
we ask you, brethren, to abound the more."
And with difficulty at last he breaks out into
that at which he was driving before: "and
that ye take pains to be quiet." He gave the
first aim. Then he adds a second, "and to
do your own business; " and a third as well:
" and work with your own hands, as we com-
manded you;" a fourth: "and to walk Iron-
estly towards those that are without; " a fifth:
"and to covet no man's goods." Lo, we can
see through that hesitation, which made him
with these preludes put off uttering what his
mind was full of: "And that ye take pains to
be quiet; " i.e., that you stop in j^our cells, and
be not disturbed by rumours, which generally
spring from the wishes and gossip of idle
persons, and so yourselves disturb others.

1 Quousque is used as equivalent to donee, again in Conf. XXIII.
xii.

2 I Thess. iv. 9, 10.

BOOK X.

269

And, "to do your own business," you should
not want to inquire curiously of the world's
actions, or, examining the lives of others,
want to spend your strength, not on bettering
yourselves and aiming at virtue, but on depre-
ciating your brethren. " And work with your
own hands, as we charged you ; " to secure that
which he had warned them above not to do;
i.e., that they should not be restless and
anxious about other people's affairs, nor walk
dishonestly towards those without, nor covet
another man's goods, he now adds and says,
" and work with your own hands, as we charged
you." For he has clearly shown that leisure
is the reason why those things were done which
he blamed above. For no one can be restless
or anxious about other people's affairs, but
one who is not satisfied to apply himself to
the work of his own hands. He 'adds also
a fourth evil, which springs also from this
leisure, i.e., that they should not walk dis-
honestly: when he says: "And that ye walk
honestly towards those without." He cannot
possibly walk honestly, even among those who
are men of this world, who is not content to
cling to the seclusion of his cell and the
work of his own hands; but he is sure to be
dishonest, while he seeks his needful food;
and to take pains to flatter, to follow up news
and gossip, to seek for opportunities for chat-
tering and stories by means of which he may
gain a footing and obtain an entrance into the
houses of others. "And that you should not
covet another man's goods." He is sure to
look with envious eyes on another's gifts and
boons, who does not care to secure sufficient
for his daily food by the dutiful and peaceful
labour of his hands. You see what conditions,
and how serious and shameful ones, spring
solely from the malady of leisure. Lastly,
those very people, whom in his first Epistle
he had treated with the gentle application
of his words, in his second Epistle he en-
deavours to heal with severer and sterner
remedies, as those who had not profited by
more gentle treatment; and he no longer
applies the treatment of gentle words, no mild
arfd kindly expressions, as these, " But we
ask you, brethren," but "We adjure you, breth-
ren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,
that ye withdraw from every brother that
walketh disorderly."^ There he asks; here
he adjures. There is the kindness of one
who is persuading; here the sternness of one
protesting and threatening. " We adjure you,
brethren : " because, when we first asked you,
you scorned to listen; now at least obey our
threats. And this adjuration he renders ter-

1 2 Thess. iii. 6.

rible, not by his bare word, but by the impre-
cation of the name of our Lord Jesus Christ:
for fear lest they might again scorn it, as
merely man's word, and think that it was not
of much importance. And forthwith, like a
well-skilled physician with festering limbs, to
which he could not apply the remedy of a mild
treatment, he tries to cure by an incision with
a spiritual knife, saying, "that ye withdraw
yourselves from every brother that walketh
disorderly, and not according to the tradition
which ye received of us." And so he bids
them withdraw from those who will not make
time for work, and to cut them off like limbs
tainted with the festering sores of leisure : lest
the malady of idleness, like some deadly con-
tagion, might infect even the healthy portion
of their limbs, by the'gradual advance of in-
fection. And when he is going to speak of
those who will not work with their own hands
and eat their bread in quietness, from whom
he urges them to withdraw, hear with what
reproaches he brands them at starting. First
he calls them "disorderly," and "not walking
according to the tradition." In other words,
he stigmatizes them as obstinate, since they
will not walk according to his appointment;
and "dishonest," i.e., not keeping to the right
and proper times for going out, and visiting,
and talking. For a disorderly person is sure
to be subject to all those faults. "And not
according to the tradition which they received
from us." And in this he stamps them as
in some sort rebellious, and despisers, who
scorned to keep the tradition which they had
received from him, and would not follow that
which they not only remembered that the
master had taught in word, but which they
knew that he had performed in deed. " For
you yourselves know how ye ought to be fol-
lowers of us." He heaps up an immense pile
of censure when he asserts that they did not
observe that which was still in their memory,
and which not only had they learned by verbal
instruction, but also had received by the in-
citement of his example in working.

CHAPTER VHL

That he is sure to be restless who will not be content with the
work of his own hands.

" Because we were not restless among you."
When he wants to prove by the practice of
work that he was not restless among them, he
fully shows that those who will not work are
always restless, owing to the fault of idleness.
"Nor did we eat any man's bread for nought."
By each expression the teacher of the Gentiles

270

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

advances a step in the rebuke.^ The preacher
of the gospel says that he has not eaten any
man's bread for nought, as he knows that the
Lord commanded that "they who preach the
gospel should live of the gospel : " - and again,
"The labourer is worthy of his meat."^ And
so if he who preached the gospel, performing
a work so lofty and spiritual, did not venture
in reliance on the Lord's command to eat his
bread for nought, what shall we do to whom
not merely is there no preaching of the word
intrusted, but no cure of souls except our own
committed ? with what confidence shall we dare
with idle hands to eat our bread for nought,
when the "chosen vessel," constrained by his
anxiety for the gospel and his work of preach-
ing, did not venture to eat without labouring
with his own hands? *"But in labour," he
says, " and weariness, working night and day
lest we should be burdensome to any of you." ^
Up to this point he amplifies and adds to his
rebuke. For he did not simply say, " We did
not eat bread for nought from any of you,"
and then stop short. For it might have been
thought that he was supported by his own pri-
vate means, and by money which he had saved,
or by other people's, though not by their col-
lections and gifts. " But in labour," he says,
"and weariness, workingnight and day; " that
is, being specially supported by our own
labour. And this, he says, we did not of our
own wish, and for our own pleasure, as rest
and bodily exercise suggested, but as our
necessities and the want of food compelled
us to do, and that not without great bodily
weariness. For not only throughout the whole
day, but also by night, which seems to be
granted for bodily rest, I was continually ply-
ing the work of my hands, through anxiety for
food.

CHAPTER IX.

That not the Apostle only, but those two who were with him
laboured with their own hands.

And he testifies that it was not he alone
who so lived among them, lest haply this
method might not seem important or general
if he depended only on his example. But he
declares that all those who were appointed
with him for the ministry of the gospel, i.e.,
Silvanus and Timothy, who wrote this with
him, worked in the same fashion. For by
saying, "lest we should be burdensome to
any of you," he covers them with great shame.
For if he who preached the gospel and com-

1 Increpniionis (Petschenig).

2 I Cor. ix. 14.

3 S. Matt. X. 10.
< 2 Thess. iii. 8.

Interpretationis (Gazseus).

mended it by signs and mighty works, did not
dare to eat bread for nought, lest he should
be burdensome to any, how can those men
help' thinking that they are burdensome who
take it every day in idleness and at their
leisure.''

CHAPTER X.

That for this reason the Apostle laboured with his own hands,
that he might set us an example of work.

"Not as if we had not power; but that we
might give ourselves a pattern to you to imi-
tate us." He lays bare the reason why he
imposed such labour on himself: "that we
might," says he, "give a pattern to you to
imitate us," that if by chance you become for-
getful of the teaching of our words which so
often passes through your ears, you may at
least keep in your recollection the example of
my manner of life given to you by ocular dem-
onstration. There is here too no slight reproof
of them, where he says that he has gone through
this labour and weariness by night and day,
for no other reason but to set an example, and
that nevertheless they would not be instructed,
for whose sakes he, although not obliged to do
it, yet imposed on himself such toil. " And
indeed," he says, "though we had the power,
and opportunities were open to us of using all
your goods and substance, and I knew that I
had the permission ^ of our Lord to use them :
yet I did not use this power, lest what was
rightly and lawfully done on my part might
set an example of dangerous idleness to others.
And therefore when preaching the gospel, I
preferred to be supported by my own hands
and work, that I might open up the way of
perfection to you who wish to walk in the path
of virtue, and might set an example of good
life by my work."

CHAPTER XL

That he preached and taught men to work not only by his
example, but also by his words.

But lest haply it might be thought that,
while he worked in silence and tried to teach
them by example, he had not instructed them
by precepts and warnings, he proceeds to say:
" For when we were with you, this we declared
to you, that if a man will not w'ork neither
should he eat." Still greater does he make
their idleness appear, for, though they knew
that he, like a good master, worked with his
hands for the sake of his teaching and in order
to instruct them, yet they were ashamed to

S Pertnissufii (Petschenig). Promissum {Gazxus).

BOOK X.

271

imitate him; and he emphasizes our diligence
and care by saying that he did not only give
them this for an example when present, but
that he also proclaimed it continually in
words; saying that if any one would not
work, neither should he eat.

CHAPTER XII.

Of his saying : " If any will not work, neither shall he eat."

And now he no longer addresses to them
the advice of a teacher or physician, but pro-
ceeds with the severity of a judicial sentence,
and, resuming his apostolic authority, pro-
nounces sentence on his despisers as if from
the judgment seat: with that power, I mean,
which, when writing with threats to the Co-
rinthians, he declared was given him of the
Lord, when he charged those taken in sin,
that they should make haste and amend their
lives before his coming: thus charging them,
" I beseech you that I may not be bold when
I am present, against some, with that power
which is given to me over you." And again:
" For if I also should boast somewhat of the
power which the Lord has given me unto edi-
fication, and not for your destruction, I shall
not be ashamed." ^ With that power, I say,
he declares, " If a man will not work, neither
let him eat. " Not punishing them with a car-
nal sword, but with the power of the Holy
Ghost forbidding them the goods of this life,
that if by chance, thinking but little of the
punishment of future death, they still should
remain obstinate through love df ease, they
may at last, forced by the requirements of
nature and the fear of immediate death, be
compelled to obey his salutary charge.

CHAPTER XIIL

Of his saying : "We have heard that some among you walk
disorderly."

Then after all this rigour of gospel severity,
he now lays bare the reason why he put for-
ward all these matters. " For we have heard
that some among you walk disorderly, working
not at all, but curiously meddling." He is
nowhere satisfied to speak of those who will
not give themselves up to work, as if they were
victims of but a single malady. For in his
first Epistle ^ he speaks of them as " disorderly, "
and not walking according to the traditions
which they had received from him: and he

• Cor. X. 2, 8.

^ A mistake on Cassian's part : the reference being to 2 Thess.
iii. 6.

also asserts that they were restless, and ate
their bread for nought. Again he says here,
" We have heard that there are some among
you who walk disorderly." And at once he
subjoins a second weakness, which is the root
of this restlessness, and says, " working not
at all ; " a third malady as well he adds, which
springs from this last like some shoot: "but
curiously meddling."

CHAPTER XIV.

How manual labour 3 prevents many faults.

And so he loses no time in at once apply-
ing a suitable remedy to the incentive to so
many faults, and laying aside that apostolic
power of his which he had made use of a little
before, he adopts once more the tender char-
acter of a good father, or of a kind physician,
and, as if they were his children or his pa-
tients, applies by his healing counsel remedies
to cure them, saying : " Now we charge them
that are such, and beseech them by the Lord
Jesus, that working with silence they would
eat their own bread." The cause of all these
ulcers, which spring from the root of idleness,
he heals liTce some well-skilled physician by
a single salutary charge to work; as he knows
that all the other bad symptoms, which spring
as it were from the same clump, will at once
diappear when the cause of the chief malady
has been removed.

CHAPTER XV. .

How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless.

Nevertheless, like a far-sighted and care-
ful physician, he is not only anxious to heal
the wounds of the sick, but gives suitable
directions as well to the whole, that their
health may be preserved continually, and says :
" But be not ye weary in w-ell doing: " ye who
following us, i.e., our ways, copy the example
given to you by imitating us in work, and do
not follow their sloth and laziness: "Do not
be weary in well doing:" i.e., do you like-
wise show kindness towards them if by chance
they have failed to observe what we said. As
then he was severe with those who were
weak, for fear lest being enervated by laziness
they might yield to restlessness and inquisi-
tiveness, so he admonishes those who are in
good health neither to restrain that kindness

3 The text of Gazseus has oratio, but the reading which Pet-
schenig gives, operatic tnanuum, is clearly so.

272

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

which the Lord's command bids us show to
the good and evil, ^ even if some bad men will
not turn to sound doctrine; nor to desist from
doing good and encouraging them both by
words of consolation and by rebuke as well
as by ordinary kindness and civility.

CHAPTER XVI.

How we ought to admonish those who go wrong, not out of
hatred, but out of love.

But again in case some might be encouraged
by this gentleness, and scorn to obey his com-
mands, he proceeds with the severity of an
apostle : " But if any man obey not our word
by this Epistle, note that man and do not keep
company with him that he may be ashamed."
And in warning them of what they ought to
observe out of regard for him and for the good
of all, and of the care with which they should
keep the apostolic commands, at once he joins
to the warning the kindness of a most indul-
gent father; and teaches them as well, as if
they were his children, what a brotherly dis-
position they should cultivate towards those
mentioned above, out of love. " Yet do not
esteem him as an enemy, but admonish him
as a brother." With the severity of a judge
he combines the affection of a father, and
tempers with kindness and gentleness the sen-
tence delivered with apostolic sternness. For
he commands them to 'note that man who
scorns to obey his commands, and not to keep
company with him; and yet he does not bid
them do this from a wrong feeling of dislike,
but from brotherly affection and out of consid-
eration for Iheir amendment. " Do not keep
company," he says, "with him that he may
be ashamed ; " so that, even if he is not made
better by my mild charges, he may at last be
brought to shame by being publicly separated
from all of you, and so may some day begin
to be restored to the way of salvation.

CHAPTER XVII.

Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought
to work, or in which it is sliown tiiat he himself worked.

In the Epistle to the Ephesians also he thus
gives a charge on this subject of work, saying:
'■ He that stole, let him now steal no more,
but rather let him labour, working with his
hands the thing that is good, that he may have
something to give to him that suffereth need." -
And in the Acts of the Apostles too we find

1 S. Matt. V. 43-45-

'■i Eph. iv. 28.

that he not only taught this, but actually prac-
tised it himself. For when he had come to
Corinth, he did not permit himself to lodge
an^-where except with Aquila and Priscilla,
because they were of the same trade which he
himself was accustomed to practise. For we
thus read: "After this, Paul departing from
Athens came to Corinth; and finding a certain
Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, and Pris-
cilla his wife, he came to them because they
were of the same trade ; and abode with them,
and worked: for they were tent-makers by
trade. "2

CHAPTER XVIII.

That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient
for him and tor others who were with him.

Then going to Miletus, and from thence
sending to Ephesus, and summoning to him
the elders of the church of Ephesus, he
charged them how they ought to rule the
church of God in his absence, and said : " I
have not coveted any man's silver and gold;
you yourselves know how for such things as
were needful for me and them that are with
me these hands have ministered. I have
showed you all things, how that so labouring
you ought to support the weak, and to remem-
ber the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said :
It is more blessed to give than to receive."*
He left us a weighty example in his manner
of life, as he testifies that he not only wrought
what would supply his own bodily wants alone,
but also what would be sufficient for the needs
of those wha were with him : those, I mean,
who, being taken up with necessary duties,
had no chance of procuring food for themselves
with their own hands. And as he tells the
Thessalonians that he had worked to give
them an example that they might imitate him,
so here too he implies something of the same
sort when he says : " I have showed you all
things, how that so labouring you ought to
support the weak, " viz., whether in mind or
body; i.e., that we should be diligent in sup-
plying their needs, not from the store oi our
abundance, or money laid by, or from another's
generosity and substance, but rather by secur-
ing the necessary sum by our own labour and
toU.

CHAPTER XIX.

How we should understand these words : " It is more blessed
to give than to receive."

And he says that this is a command of the
Lord: "For He Himself," namely the Lord

3 Acts xviii. 1-3.

i Acts XX. 33-3S"

BOOK X.

Jesus, said he, "said it is more blessed to
give than to receive." That is, the bounty of
the giver is more blessed than the need of the
receiver, where the gift is not supplied from
money that has been kept back through unbe-
lief or faithlessness, nor from the stored-up
treasures of avarice, but is produced from the
fruits of our own labour and honest toil. And
so "it is more blessed to give than to receive,"
because while the giver shares the poverty of
the receiver, yet still he is diligent in provid-
ing with pious care by his own toil, not merely
enough for his own needs, but also what he
can give to one in want ; and so he is adorned
with a double grace, since by giving away all
his goods he secures the perfect abnegation of
Christ, and yet by his labour and thought dis-
plays the generosity of the rich ; thus honouring
God by his honest labours, and plucking for
him the fruits of his righteousness, while an-
other, enervated by sloth and indolent laziness,
proves himself by the saying of the Apostle
unworthy of food, as in defiance of his com-
mand he takes it in idleness, not without the
guilt of sin and of obstinacy.

CHAPTER XX.

Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the
monastery.

We know a brother, whose name we would
give if it would do any good, who, although he
was remaining in the monastery and compelled
to deliver to the steward his fixed task daily,
yet for fear lest he might be led on to some
larger portion of work, or put to shame by the
example of one labouring more zealously, when
he had seen some brother admitted into the
monastery, who in the ardour of his faith wanted
to make up the sale of a larger piece of work,
if he found that he could not by secret persua-
sion check him from carrying out his purpose,
he would by bad advice and whisperings per-
suade him to depart thence. And in order to
get rid of him more easily he would pretend
that he also had already been for many reasons
offended, and wanted to leave, if only he could
find a companion and support for the journey.
And when by secretly running down the mon-
astery he had wheedled him into consenting,
and arranged with him the time at which to
leave the monastery, and the place to which
he should go before, and where he should wait
for him, he himself, pretending that he would
follow, stopped where he was. And when the
other out of shame for his flight did not dare
to return again to the monastery from which
he had run away, the miserable author of his

flight stopped behind in the monastery. It
will be enough to have given this single in-
stance of this sort of men in order to put
beginners on their guard, and to show clearly
what evils idleness, as Scripture says,^ can
produce in the mind of a monk, and how "evil
communications corrupt good manners." "

5' 2

CHAPTER XXL

Different passages from the writings of Solomon against accidie.

And Solomon, the wisest of men, clearly
points to this fault of idleness in many pas-
sages, as he says : " He that followeth idleness
shall be filled with poverty," ^ either visible
or invisible, in which an idle person and one
entangled with different faults is sure to be
involved, and he will always be a stranger to
the contemplation of God, and to spiritual
riches, of which the blessed Apostle says :
"For in all things ye were enriched in him,
in all utterance and in all knowledge."^ But
concerning this poverty of the idler elsewhere
he also writes thus: "Every sluggard shall be
clothed in torn garments and rags. " '^ For
certainly he will not merit to be adorned with
that garment of incorruption (of which the
Apostle says, " Put ye on the Lord Jesus
Christ,"^ and again: "Being clothed in the
breastplate of righteousness and charity,"''
concerning which the Lord Himself also speaks
to Jerusalem by the prophet: "Arise, arise, O
Jerusalem, put on the garments of thyglory),"^
whoever, overpowered by lazy slumber or by
accidie, prefers to be clothed, not by his labour
and industry, but in the rags of idleness, which
he tears off from the solid piece and body of
the Scriptures, and fits on to his sloth no gar-
ment of glory and honour, but an ignominious
cloak and excuse. For those, who are affected
by this laziness, and do not like to support
themselves by the labour of their own hands,
as the Apostle continually did and charged us
to do, are wont to make use of certain Scrip-
ture proofs by which they try to cloak their
idleness, saying that it is written, " Labour
not for the meat that perisheth, but for that
which remains to life eternal;"^ and "My
meat is to do the will of my Father." ^° But
these proofs are (as it were) rags, from the

1 The reference is probably to Ecclus. xxiii. 29, " Idleness hath
taught much evil."

2 I Cor. XV. 33.

3 Prov. xxviii. 19.

4 I Cor. i. 5.

5 Prov. xxiii. 21 (LXX.),

6 Rom. xiii. 14.

7 1 Thess. V. 8.

8 Is. Hi. I.

9 S. John vi. 27.
10 S. John iv. 34.

2 74

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

solid piece of the gospel, which are adopted
for this purpose, viz., to cover the disgrace of
our idleness and shame rather than to keep
us warm, and adorn us with that costly and
splendid garment of virtue which that wise
woman in the Proverbs, who was clothed with
strength and beauty, is said to have made
either for herself or for her husband; of which
presently it is said: *" Strength and beauty are
her clothing, and she rejoices in the latter
days."^ Of this evil of idleness Solomon
thus makes mention again : " The ways of the
idlers are strown with thorns;"^ i.e., with
these and similar faults, which the Apostle
above declared to spring from idleness. And
again: "Every sluggard is always in want."^
And of these the Apostle makes mention when
he says, "And that you want nothing of any
man's."* And finally: "For idleness has
been the teacher of many evils: "^ which the
Apostle has clearly enumerated in the passage
which he expounded above: "Working not at
ail, but curiously meddling." To this fault
also he joins another: "And that ye study to
be quiet; " and then, "that ye should do your
own business and walk honestly towards them
that are without, and that you want nothing
of any man's." Those also whom he notes
as disorderly and rebellious, from these he
charges those who are earnest to separate
themselves: " That ye withdraw yourselves,"
says he, "from every brother that walketh
disorderly and not according to the tradition
which they received from us." ^

CHAPTER XXII.

How the brethren in Egypt work with their hands, not only to
supply their own needs, but also to minister to those who are
in prison.

And so taught by these examples the Fathers
in Egypt never allow monks, and especially
the younger ones, to be idle,'' estimating the
purpose of their hearts and their growth in

1 Prov. xxxi. 25 (LXX.).
'■i Prov. XV. 19 (LXX.).

3 Prov. xiii. 4 (LXX.).

4 I Thess. iv. n.

5 Ecclus. xxxiii. 29.

6 2 Thess. iii. 11; 6; i Thess. iv. 11.

1 The monks of Egypt were famous for their labours, and Cas-
sian's language might be illustrated from many passages in the
I'"athers ; e.g., Epiphanius, in his third book against heresies, com-
pares the monks, and especially those in Egypt, to bees, because of
their diligence. So .S. Jerome, writing to Kusticus (Ep. cxxv.),
says that no one is received in a monastery in Egypt unless he will
work, and that this rule is made for the good of the soul rather than
for the sake of providing food. Compare also Sozomen H. E. VI.
xxviii., where it is said of Serapion and his followers in the neigh-
bourhood of Arsinoe that " they lived on the produce of their
labour and provided for the poor. During harvest-time they busied
themselves in reaping : they set aside sufficient corn for their own
use, and furnished grain gratuitously for the other monks." S.
Basil also, in his Monastic Constitutions cc. iv. and v., speaks
strongly of the value of labour; and the Rule of S. Benedict
(c. xlviii.) enjoins that "as idleness is the enemy of the soul, the
brethren are to be employed alternately in manual labour and pious
reading."

patience and humility by their diligence in
work; and they not only do not allow them to
receive anything from another to supply their
own wants, but further, they not merely refresh
pilgrims and brethren who come to visit them
by means of their labours, but actually collect
an enormous store of provisions and food, and
distribute it in the parts of Libya which suf-
fer from famine and barrenness, and also in
the cities, to those who are pining away in the
squalor of prison; as they believe that by
such an offering of the fruit of their hands
they offer a reasonable and true sacrifice to
the Lord.

CHAPTER XXIIL

That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for
monks in the West.

Hence it is that in these countries we see
no monasteries found with such numbers of
brethren: for they are not supported by the
resources of their own labour in such a way
that they can remain in them continually ; and
if in some way or other, through the liberality
of another, there should be a sufficient pro-
vision to supply them, yet love of ease and
restlessness of heart does not suffer them to
continue long in the place. Whence this
saying has been handed down from the old
fathers in Egypt: that a monk who works is
attacked by but one devil; but an idler is
tormented by countless spirits.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of Abbot Paul « who every year burnt with fire all the works
of his hands.

Lastly, Abbot Paul, one of the greatest
of the Fathers, while he was living in a vast
desert which is called the Porphyrian desert,®
and being relieved from anxiety by the date
palms and a small garden, had plenty to sup-
port himself, and an ample supply of food,
and could not find any other work to do,
which would support him, because his dwell-
ing was separated from towns and inhabited
districts by seven days' journey,^" or even more,
through the desert, and more would be asked
for tlie carriage of the goods than the price of
the work would be worth; he collected the
leaves of the palms, and regularly exacted of
himself his daily task, as if he was to be sup-

8 This Paul is perhaps the same as the one mentioned in connec-
tion with Abbot Moses in Conference VII. xxvi. As he was a cori-
temporary of Cassian he must be carefully distinguished from his
more illustrious namesakes, the first hermit and the disciple of S.

9 Also called the desert of Calamus, Conference XXIV. iv., but
its position has not been ascertained.

1" Mansio used here and again in Conference XXIV. iv. lor the
stage of a day's journey.

BOOK XI.

275

ported by it. And when his cave had been
filled with a whole year's work, each year he
would burn with fire that at which he had so
diligently laboured : thus proving that without
manual labour a monk cannot stop in a place
nor rise to the heights of perfection : so that,
though the need for food did not require this
to be done, yet he performed it simply for the
sake of purifying his heart, and strengthening
his thoughts, and persisting in his cell, and
gaining a victory over accidie and driving it
away.

CHAPTER XXV.

The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure
of accidie.

When I was beginning my stay in the desert,
and had said to Abbot Moses, the chief of all

the saints, that I had been terribly troubled
yesterday by an attack of accidie, and that I
could only be freed from it by running at once
to Abbot Paul, he said, " You have not freed
yourself from it, but rather have given your-
self up to it as its slave and subject. For the
enemy will henceforth attack you more strongly
as a deserter and runaway, since it has seen
that you fled at once when overcome in the
conflict: unless on a second occasion when
you join battle with it you make up your mind
not to dispel its attacks and heats for the
moment by deserting your cell, or by the in-
activity of sleep, but rather learn to triumph
over it by endurance and conflict." Whence
it is proved by experience that a fit of accidie
should not be evaded by running away from
it, but overcome by resisting it.^

BOOK XL

OF THE SPIRIT OF VAINGLORY.

CHAPTER I.

How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vainglory,
and what its nature is.

Our seventh combat is against the spirit of
xf*'0(Jo|(«, which we may term vain or idle
glory: a spirit that takes many shapes, and
is changeable and subtle, so that it can with
difficulty, I will not say be guarded against,
but be seen through and discovered even by
the keenest eyes.

CHAPTER 11.

How vainglory attacks a monk not only on his carnal, but
also on his spiritual side.

For not only does this, like the rest of his
faults, attack a monk on his carnal side, but
on his spiritual side as well, insinuating itself
by craft and guile into his mind : so that those
who cannot be deceived by carnal vices are
more grievously wounded through their spir-
itual proficiency; and it is so much the worse
to fight against, as it is harder to guard against.
For the attack of all other vices is more open
and straightforward, and in the case of each
of them, when he who stirs them up is met
by a determined refusal, he will go away the
weaker for it, and the adversary who has been
beaten will on the next occasion attack his
victim with less vigour. But this malady

when it has attacked the mind by means of
carnal pride, and has been repulsed by the
shield of reply, again, like some wickedness
that takes many shapes, changes its former
guise and character, and under the appear-
ance of the virtues tries to strike down and
destroy its conqueror.

CHAPTER III.

How many forms and shapes vainglory takes.

For our other faults and passions may be
said to be simpler and of but one form : but
this takes many forms and shapes, and changes
about and assails the man who stands up
against it from every quarter, and assaults its
conqueror on all sides. For it tries to injure
the soldier of Christ in his dress, in his man-
ner, his walk, his voice, his work, his vigils,
his fasts, his prayers, when he withdraws,
when he reads, in his knowledge, his silence,
his obedience, his humility, his patience; and
like some most dangerous rock hidden by
surging waves, it causes an unforeseen and
miserable shipwreck to those who are sailing
with a fair breeze, while they are not on the
lookout for it or guarding against it.

1 This Abbot Moses is probably the one to whom the first two
Conferences are attributed (cf. also Conference Vll.xxvi.); and
possibly the second of this name (Moses the Libyan) mentioned by
Sozomen, H. E. VI. xxix. Cf. also Palladius, the Lausiac His-
tory, c. xxii.

276

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER IV.

How vainglory attacks a monk on the right hand and on the

left.

And so one who wishes to go along the
King's highway by means of the "arms of
righteousness which are on the right hand and
on the left," ought by the teaching of the
Apostle to pass through ''honour and dis-
honour, evil report and good report,"^ and
with such care to direct his virtuous course
amid the swelling waves of temptation, with
discretion at the helm, and the Spirit of the
Lord breathing on us, since we know that if
we deviate ever so little to the right hand or
to the left, Ave shall presently be dashed against
most dangerous crags. And so we are warned
by Solomon, the wisest of men : " Turn not
aside to the right hand or to the left; " " i.e.,
do not flatter yourself on your virtues and be
puffed up by your spiritual achievements on
the right hand ; nor, swerving to the path of
vices on the left hand, seek from them for
yourself (to use the words of the Apostle)
"glory in your shame." ^ For where the devil
cannot create vainglory in a man by means of
his well-fitting and neat dress, he tries to in-
troduce it by means of a dirty, cheap, and
uncared-for style. If he cannot drag a man
down by honour, he overthrows him by humil-
ity. If he cannot make him puffed up by the
grace of knowledge and eloquence, he pulls
him down by the weight of silence. If a man
fasts openly, he is attacked by the pride of
vanity. If he conceals it for the sake of de-
spising the glory of it, he is assailed by the
same sin of pride. In order that he may not
be defiled by the stains of vainglory he avoids
making long prayers in the sight of the breth-
ren ; and yet because he offers them secretly
and has no one who is conscious of it, he does
not escape the pride of vanity.

CHAPTER V.

A comparison which shows the nature of vainglory.

Our elders admirably describe the nature
of this malady as like that of an onion, and
of those bulbs which when stripped of one
covering you find to be sheathed in another;
and as often as you strip them, you find them
still protected.

1 2 Cor. vi. 7, 8.

2 Prov. iv. 27 (LXX.).
5 Phil, iii. ig.

CHAPTER VI.

That vainglory is not altogther got rid of by the advantages of

solitude.

In solitude also it does not cease from pur-
suing him who has for the sake of glory fled
from intercourse with all men. And the more
thoroughly a man has shunned the whole world,
so much the more keenly does it pursue him.
It tries to lift up with pride one man because
of his great endurance of work and labour,
another because of his extreme readiness to
obey, another because he outstrips other men
in humility. One man is tempted through
the extent of his knowledge, another through
the extent of his reading, another through the
length of his vigils. Nor does this malady
endeavour to wound a man except through his
virtues; introducing hindrances which lead to
death by means of those very things through
which the supplies of life are sought. For
when men are anxious to walk in the path of
holiness and perfection, tlie enemies do not
lay their snares to deceive them anpvhere
except in the way along which they walk, in
accordance with that saying of the blessed
David: "In the way wherein I walked have
they laid a snare for me ; " ^ that in this very
way of virtue along which we are walking,
when pressing on to "the prize of our high
calling," ^ we may be elated by our successes,
and so sink down, and fall with the feet of
our soul entangled and caught in the snares
of vainglory. And so it results that those of
us Avho could not be vanquished in the con-
flict with the foe are overcome by the very
greatness of our triumph, or else (which is
another kind of deception) that, overstraining
the limits of that self-restraint which is pos-
sible to us, we fail of perseverance in our
course on account of bodily weakness.

CHAPTER VII.

How vainglory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener
than ever for the fight.

All vices when overcome grow feeble, and
when beaten are day by day rendered weaker,
and both in regard to place and time grow
less and subside, or at any rate, as they are
unlike the opposite virtues, are more easily
shunned and avoided: but this one when it is
beaten rises again keener than ever for the
struggle; and when we think that it is de-
stroyed, it revives again, the stronger for its

* Ps. cxli. (cxlii.) 4.
B Phil. iii. M-

BOOK XI.

277

death. The other kinds of vices usually only
attack tliose whom they have overcome in the
conriict; but this one pursues its victors only
the more keenly; and the more thoroughly it
has been resisted, so much the more vigorously
does it attack the man who is elated by his
victory over it. And herein lies the crafty
cunning of our adversary, namely, in the fact
that, where he cannot overcome the soldier of
Christ by the weapons of the foe, he lays him
low by his own spear.

CHAPTER VIII.

How vainglory is not allayed either in the desert or through
advancing years.

Other vices, as we said, are sometimes
allayed by the advantages of position, and
when the matter of the sin and the occasion
and opportunity for it are removed, grow slack,
and are diminished: but this one penetrates
the deserts with the man who is flying from
it, nor can it be shut out from any place, nor
when outward material for it is removed does
it fail. For it is simply encouraged by the
achievements of the virtues of the man whom
it attacks. For all other vices, as we said
above, are sometimes diminished by the lapse
of time, and disappear: to this one length of
life, unless it is supported by skilful diligence
and prudent discretion, is no hindrance, but
actually supplies it with new fuel for vanity.

CHAPTER IX.

That vainglory is the more dangerous through being mixed
up with virtues.

Lastly, other passions which are entirely
different from the virtues which are their op-
posites, and which attack us openly and as it
were in broad daylight, are more easily over-
come and guarded against: but this being
interwoven with our virtues and entangled in
the battle, fighting as it were under cover of
the darkness of night, deceives the more dan-
gerously those who are off their guard and not
on the lookout.

CHAPTER X.

An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overthrown by
the dart of vainglory.

For so w-e read that Hezekiah, King of
Judah, a man of most perfect righteousness in
all things, and one approved by the witness
of Holy Scripture, after unnumbered com-
mendations for his virtues, was overthrown by
a singl-e dart of vainglory. And he who by a '
single prayer of his was able to procure the |

death of a hundred and eighty-five thousand
of the army of the Assyrians, whom the angel
destroyed in one night, is overcome by boast-
ing and vanity. Of whom — to pass over the
long list of his virtues, which it would take a
long time to unfold — I will say but this one
thing. He was a man who, after the close of
his life had been decreed and the day of his
death determined by the Lord's sentence, pre-
vailed by a single prayer to extend the limits
set to his life by fifteen years, the sun return-
ing by ten steps, on which it had already
shone in its course towards its setting, and by
its return dispersing those lines which the
shadow that followed its course had already
marked, and by this giving two days in one to
the whole world, by a stupendous miracle con-
trary to the fixed laws of nature.^ Yet after
signs so great and so incredible, after such im-
mense proofs of his goodness, hear the Scripture
tell how he was destroyed by his very successes.
"In those days," we are told, "Hezekiah was
sick unto death : and he prayed to the Lord,
and He heard him and gave him a sign,"' that,
namely of which we read in the fourth book of
the kingdoms, which was given by Isaiah the
prophet through the going back of the sun.
"But," it says, "he did not render again
according to the benefits which he had re-
ceived, for his heart was lifted up; and wrath
was kindled against him and against Judah
and Jerusalem: and he humbled himself after-
wards because his heart had been lifted up,
both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and
therefore the wrath of the Lord came not upon
them in the days of Hezekiah."^ How dan-
gerous, how terrible is the malady of vanity!
So much goodness, so many virtues, faith and
devotion, great enough to prevail to change
nature itself and the laws of the whole world,
perish by a single act of pride! So that all
his good deeds would have been forgotten as
if they had never been, and he would at once
have been subject to the wrath of the Lord
unless he had appeased Him by recovering
his humility: so that he who, at the sugges-
tion of pride, had fallen from so great a height
of excellence, could only mount again to the
height he had lost by the same steps of humil-
ity. Do you want to see another instance of
a similar downfall?

CHAPTER XL

The instance of King Uzziah who was overcome by the taint
of the same malady.

Of Uzziah, the ancestor of this king of
whom we have been speaking, himself also
praised in all things by the witness of the

' Cf. 2 Kings XX.

* 2 Chron. xxxii. 24-26.

278

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

Scripture, after great commendation for his
virtue, after countless triumphs which he
achieved by the merit of his devotion and
faith, learn how he was cast down by the pride
of vainglory. "And," we are told, "the name
of Uzziah went forth, for the Lord helped him
and had strengthened him. But when he was
made strong, his heart was lifted up to his
destruction, and he neglected the Lord his
God."^ You behold another instance of
a most terrible downfall, and see how two
men so upright and excellent were undone by
their very triumphs and victories. Whence
you see how dangerous the successes of pros-
perity generally are, so that those who could
not be injured by adversity are ruined, unless
they are careful, by prosperity; and those who
in the conflict of battle have escaped the danger
of death fall before their own trophies and
triumphs.

CHAPTER XXL

Several testimonies against vainglory.

And so the Apostle warns us : " Be not de-
sirous of vainglory."^ And the Lord, rebuk-
ing the Pharisees, says, " How can ye believe,
who receive glory from one another, and seek
not the glory which comes from God alone ? " ^
Of these too the blessed David speaks with a
threat : " For God hath scattered the bones of
them that please men." *

CHAPTER XIIL

Of the ways in which vainglory attacks a monk.

In the case also of beginners and of those
who have as yet made but little progress either
in powers of mind or in knowledge it usually
puffs up their minds, either because of the
quality of their voice because they can sing
well, or because their bodies are emaciated,^
or because they are of a good figure, or because
they have rich and noble kinsfolk, or because
they have despised a military life and honours.
Sometimes too it persuades a man that if he
had remained in the world he would easily
have obtained honours and riches, which per-
haps could not possibly have been secured,
and inflates him with a vain hope of uncertain
things; and in the case of those things which
he never possessed, puffs him up with pride
and vanity, as if he were one who had despised
them.

* 2 Chron. xxvi. 15, 16.

2 C.al. V. 26.

3 S. John V. 44.

* Ps. lii. (liii.) 6.
' viz., by fasting.

CHAPTER XIV.

How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders.

But sometimes it creates a wish to take
holy orders, and a desire for the priesthood or
diaconate. And it represents that if a man
has even against his will received this office,
he will fulfil it with such sanctity and strict-
ness that he will be able to set an example of
saintliness even to other priests; and that he
will win over many people, not only by his
manner of life, but also by his teaching and
preaching. It makes a man, even when alone
and sitting in his cell, to go round in mind
and imagination to the dwellings and monas-
teries of others, and to make many conversions
under the inducements of imaginary exulta-
tio

CHAPTER XV.

How vainglory intoxicates the mind.

And so the miserable soul is affected by
such vanity — as if it were deluded by a pro-
found slumber — that it is often led away by
the pleasure of such thoughts, and filled with
such imaginations, so that it cannot even look
at things present, or the brethren, while it
enjoys dwelling upon these things, of which
with its wandering thoughts it has waking
dreams, as if they were true.

CHAPTER XVI.

Of him whom the superior came upon and found in his cell,
deluded by idle vainglory.

I REMEMBER an elder, when I was staying
in the desert of Scete, who went to the cell of
a certain brother to pay him a visit, and when
he had reached the door heard him muttering
inside, and stood still for a little while, want-
ing to know what it was that he was reading
from the Bible or repeating by heart (as is
customary) while he was at work. And when
this most excellent eavesdropper diligently ap-
plied his ear and listened with some curiosity,
he found that the man was induced by an
attack of this spirit to fancy that he was de-
livering a stirring sermon to the people. And
when the elder, as he stood still, heard him
finish his discourse and return again to his
office, and give out the dismissal of the cate-
chumens, as the deacon does,® then at last he

^ Celebrnre vehit diaconmn ceitechuinenis missatn. Missa is
here used for the dismissal of the catechumens, which it was tlie
deacon's office to proclaim. The whole service was divided into
two parts, (i) the mass of the catechumens, containing the Scrip-

BOOK XI.

279

knocked at the door, and the man came out,
and met the elder with the customary rever-
ence, and brought him in and (for liis knowl-
edge of what had been his thoughts made him
uneasy) asked him when he had arrived, for
fear lest he might have taken some harm from
standing too long at the door: and the old
man joking pleasantly replied, "I only got
here while you were giving out the dismissal
of the catechumens."

CHAPTER XVII.

How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have
been discovered.

I THOUGHT it well to insert these things in
this little work of mine, that we might learn,
not only by reason, but also by examples,
about the force of temptations and the order
of the sins which hurt an unfortunate soul,
and so might be more careful in avoiding the
snares and manifold deceits of the enemy.
For these things are indiscriminately brought
forward by the Egj'ptian fathers, that by telling
them, as those who are still enduring them,
they may disclose and lay bare the combats
with all the vices, which they actually do suf-
fer, and those which the younger ones are sure
to suffer; so that, when they explain the illu-
sions arising from all the passions, those who
are but beginners and fervent in spirit may
know the secret of their struggles, and seeing
them as in a glass, ma)*learn both the causes
of the sins by which they are troubled, and
the remedies for them, and instructed before-
hand concerning the approach of future strug-
gles, may be taught how they ought to guard
against them, or to meet them and to fight with
them. As clever physicians are accustomed
not only to heal already existing diseases, but
also by a wise skill to seek to obviate future
ones, and to prevent them by their prescrip-
tions and healing draughts, so these true
physicians of the soul, by means of spiritual
conferences, like some celestial antidote, de-
stroy beforehand those maladies of the soul
which would arise, and do not allow them to
gain a footing in the minds of the juniors, as
they unfold to them the causes of the passions

ture lessons, sermon, and prayers for the catechumens; and (2)
the mass of the faithful, or the Eucharist proper. At the end of
the first part the deacon warned the catechumens to depart, in
words varj'ing slightly in different churches, but substantially the
same in all, both east and west : e.g. in the Liturgy of S. Chrysostom
the form is "Let all the catechumens depart: let not any of the
catechumens — Let all the faithful — "; in that of S. Mark it is
still briefer: "Look lest any of the catechumens." The Roman
missal does not now contain this feature, but it was certainly origi-
nally found in it, for it is alluded to by Gregory the Great (Dial.
Book II. c. xxiii.), who gives the form as follows: " Si quis non
communicat det locum." It was also customary in Spain and Gaul,
as well as in Africa, being alluded to by Augustine in Sermon xllx. :
" Ecce post sermonen fit missa catechumenis : manebunt fideles,
venietur ad locum orationis."

which threaten them, and the remedies which
will heal them.

CHAPTER XVIII.

How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops.

Wherefore this is an old maxim of the
Fathers that is still current, — though I can-
not produce it without shame on my own part,
since I could not avoid my own sister, nor
escape the hands of the bishop, — viz., that
a monk ought by all means to fly from women
and bishops. For neither of them will allow
him who has once been joined in close inter-
course any longer to care for the quiet of his
cell, or to continue with pure eyes in divine
contemplation through his insight into holy
things.

CHAPTER XIX.

Remedies by which we can overcome vainglory.

And so the athlete of Christ who desires to
strive lawfully in this true and spiritual com-
bat, should strive by all means to overcome
this changeable monster of many shapes,
which, as it attacks us on every side like some
manifold wickedness, we can escape by such
a remedy as this; viz., thinking on that say-
ing of David : " The Lord hath scattered the
bones of those who please men." -^ To begin
with we should not allow ourseh^es to do any-
thing at the suggestion of vanity, and for the
sake of obtaining vainglory. Next, when we
have begun a thing well, we should endeavour
to maintain it with just the same care, for fear
lest afterwards the malady of vainglory should
creep in and make void all the fruits of our
labours. And anything which is of very little
use or value in the common life of the breth-
ren, we should avoid as leading to boasting;
and w'hatever would render us remarkable
amongst the others, and for which credit would
be gained among men, as if we were the only
people who could do it, this should be shunned
by us. For by these signs the deadly taint of
vainglory will be shown to cling to us: which
we shall most easily escape if we consider that
we shall not merely lose the fruits of those
labours of ours which we have performed at
the suggestion of vainglory, but that we shall
also be guilty of a great sin, and as impious
persons undergo eternal punishments, inas-
much as we have wronged God by doing for
the favour of men what we ought to have done
for His sake, and are convicted by Him who
knows all secrets of having preferred men to
God, and the praise of the world to the praise
of the Lord.

1 Ps. lii. (liii.) 6.

2 8o

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

BOOK XII.

OF THE SPIRIT OF PRIDE.

CHAPTER I.

How our eighth combat is against the spirit of pride, and of
its character.

Our eighth and last combat is against the
spirit of pride, which evil, although it is the
latest in our conflict with our faults and
stands last on the list, yet in beginning and
in the order of time is the first: an evil beast
that is most savage and more dreadful than
all the former ones, chiefly trying those who
are perfect, and devouring with its dreadful
bite those who have almost attained the con-
summation of virtue.

CHAPTER H.

How there are two kinds of pride.

And of this pride there are two kinds: the
one, that by which we said that the best of
men and spiritually minded ones were trou-
bled; the other, that which assaults even be-
ginners and carnal persons. And though each
kind of pride is excited with regard to both
God and man by a dangerous elation, yet
that first kind more particularly has to do with
God ; the second refers especially to men. Of
the origin of this last and the remedies for it
we will by God's help treat as far as possible
in the latter part of this book. We now pro-
pose to say a few things about that former
kind, by which, as I mentioned before, those
who are perfect are especially tried.

CHAPTER HI.

How pride is equally destructive of all virtues.

There is then no other fault which is so
destructive of all virtues, and robs and de-
spoils a man of all righteousness and holiness,
as this evil of pride, which like some pesti-
lential disease attacks the whole man, and,
not content to damage one part or one limb
only, injures the entire body by its deadly
influence, and endeavours to cast down by a
most fatal fall, and destroy those who were
already at the top of the tree of the virtues.
For every other fault is satisfied within its

own bounds and limits, and though it clouds
other virtues as well, yet it is in the main
directed against one only, and specially attacks
and assaults that. And so (to make my mean-
ing clearer) gluttony, i.e., the appetites of
the belly and the pleasures of the palate, is
destructive of strict temperance: lust stains
purity, anger destroys patience : so that some-
times a man who is in bondage to some one
sin is not altogether wanting in other virtues:
but being simply deprived of that one virtue
which in the struggle yields to the vice which
is its rival and opposed to it, can to some
extent preserve his other virtues: but this one
when once it has taken possession of some
unfortunate soul, like some most brutal tvrant,
when the lofty citadel of the virtues has been
taken, utterly destroys and la.ys waste the whole
city; and levelling with the ground of vices
the once high walls of saintliness, and confus-
ing them together, it allows no shadow of
freedom henceforth to survive in the soul
subject to it. And in proportion as it was
originally the richer, so now will the yoke of
servitude be the severer, through which by its
cruel ravages it will ^rip the soul it has sub-
dued of all its powers of virtue.

CHAPTER IV.

How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel
into a devil.

And that we may understand the power
of its awful tyranny we see that that angel
who, for the greatness of his splendour and
beauty was termed Lucifer, was cast out of
heaven for no other sin but this, and, pierced
with the dart of pride, was hurled down from
his grand and exalted position as an angel
into hell. If then pride of heart -alone was
enough to cast down from heaven to earth a
power that was so great and adorned with the
attributes of such might, the very greatness of
his fall shows us with what care we who are
surrounded by the weakness of the flesh ought
to be on our guard. But we can learn how to
avoid the most deadly poison of this evil if
we trace out the origin and causes of his fall.
For weakness can never be cured, nor the
remedies for bad states of health be disclosed

BOOK XII.

281

unless first their origin and causes are investi-
gated by a wise scrutiny. For as he (viz.,
Lucifer) was endowed wdth divine splendour,
and shone forth among the other higher powers
by the bounty of his Maker, he believed that
he had acquired the splendour of that wisdom
and the beauty of those powers, with which
he was graced by the gift of the Creator, by
the might of his own nature, and not by the
beneficence of His generosity. And on this
account he was puffed up as if he stood in no
need of divine assistance in order to continue
in this state of purity, and esteemed himself
to be like God, as if, like God, he had no 1
need of anv one, and trusting in the power of |
his own will, fancied that through it he could j
richly supply himself with everything which
was necessary for the consummation of virtue
or for the perpetuation of perfect bliss. This
thought alone was the cause of his first fall.
On account of which being forsaken by God,
whom he fancied he no longer needed, he
suddenly became unstable and tottering, and
discovered the weakness of his own nature,
and lost the blessedness which he had enjoyed
6y God's gift. And because he ''loved the
words of ruin," with which he had said, "I
will ascend into heaven," and the 'deceitful
tongue," with which" he had said of himself,
'' I will be like the Most High," ^ and of Adam
and Eve, "Ye shall be as gods," therefore
"shall God destroy him forever and pluck him
out and remove him from his dwelling place
and his root out of the land of the living."
Then " the just, " when they see his ruin, " shall
fear, and shall laugh at him and say" (what
may also be most justly aimed at those who
trust that they can obtain the highest good
without the protection and assistance of God) :
"Behold the man that made not God his
helper, but trusted in the abundance of his
riches, and prevailed in his vanity." ^

the freedom of his will and by his own efforts
he could obtain the glory of Deity,he actually
lost that glory which he already possessed
through the free gift of the Creator.

CHAPTER VI.

That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat,
but first in time and origin.

And so it is most clearly established by
instances and testimonies from Scripture that
the mischief of pride, although it comes later
in the order of the combat, is yet earlier in
origin, and is the beginning of all sins and
faults: nor is it (like the other vices) simply
fatal to the virtue opposite to it (in this case,
humility), but it is also at the same time de-
structive of all virtues: nor does it only tempt
ordinary folk and small people, but chiefly
those who already stand on the heights of
valour.* For thus the prophet speaks of this
spirit, "His meat is choice."^ And so the
blessed David, although he guarded the re-
cesses of his heart with the utmost care, so
that he dared to say to Him from whom the
secrets of his conscience were not hid, "Lord,
my heart is not exalted, nor are my eyes lofty:
neither have I walked in great matters, nor
in wonderful things above me. If I was not
humbly "minded;"^ and again, "He that
worketh pride shall not dwell in the midst of
my house ; " '^ yet, as he knew how hard is that
watchfulness even for those that are perfect,
he did not so presume on his own efforts, but
prayed to God and implored His help, that
he might escape unwounded by the darts of
this foe, saying, "Let not the foot of pride
come to me," * for he feared and dreaded fall-
ing into that which is said of the proud, viz.,
"God resisteth the proud; "^ and again:
" Every one that exalteth his heart is unclean
before the Lord.""

CHAPTER V.

That incentives to all sins spring from pride.

This is the reason of the first fall, and the
starting point of the original malady, which
again insinuating itself into the first man,^
through him who had already been destroyed
by it, produced the weaknesses and materials
of all faults. For while he believed that by

1 Is. xiv. 13, 14.

2 Ps. li. nil.) 6-<j. .. , ,j • .,11,^

3 Protoplastum cf. Wisdom vii. i: x. i. xvhere Adam is called
irpwrdTTAa/xo?. From these passages the term came to be com-
monly used as the desicnation of our first parents. So Clem. Alex.
Strom, iii. 17 : and in its Latin form it is found mthe early transla-
tion of IrenEus. Haer. III. xxi. 20.

CHAPTER VII.

That the evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God
Himself as its adversary.

How great is the evil of pride, that it rightly
has no angel, nor other virtues opposed to it,
but God Himself as its adversary! Since it
should be noted that it is never said of those

4 Cf. Milton's " last infirmity of noble minds." (Lycidas.)
T' Hab. i. i6(LXX.).
" Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) I, 2.
" Ps. c. (ci.) T, 2.
8 Ps. XXXV. (xxxvi.) I, 2.
'' S. James iv. 6.
10 Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX.).

282

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

who are entangled in other sins that they have
God resisting them; I mean it is not said that
God is opposed " to the gluttonous, fornicators,
passionate, or covetous," but only "to the
proud." For those sins react only on those
who commit them, or seem to be committed
against those who share in them, i.e., against
other men; but this one has more properly
to do with God, |and therefore it is especially
right that it should have Him opposed to it.

CHAPTER Vni.

How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of
humility, and various passages in proof of this.

And so God, the Creator and Healer of all,
knowing that pride is the cause and fountain
head of evils, has been careful to heal oppo-
sites with opposites, that those things which
were ruined by pride might be restored by
humility. For the one says, "I will ascend
into heaven ; " ^ the other, " My soul was
brought low even to the ground." '-^ The one
says, "And I will be like the most High;"
the other, "Though He was in the form of
God, yet He emptied Himself and took the
form of a servant, and humbled Himself and
became obedient unto death." ^ The one says,
" I will exalt my throne above the stars of
God ; " the other, " Learn of me, for I am
meek and lowly of heart."* The one says,
"I know not the Lord and will not let Israel
go;"* the other, "If I say that I know Him
not, I shall be a liar like unto you: but I
know Him, and keep His commandments."^
The one says, " My rivers are mine and I made
them: " ' the other: " I can do nothing of my-
self, but my Father who abideth in me. He
doeth the works. "^ The one says, "All the
kingdoms of the world and the glory of them
are mine, and to whomsoever I will, I give
them;"^ the other, "Though He were rich,
yet He became poor, that we through His
poverty might be made rich. ' ' '° The one says,
" As eggs are gathered together which are left,
so have I gathered all the earth: and there
was none that moved the wing or opened the
mouth, or made the least noise; " " the other,
"I am become like a solitary pelican; I
watched and became as a sparrow alone upon
the roof." ^^ The one says, "I have dried up
with the sole of my foot all the rivers shut
up in banks; " ^^ the other, " Cannot I ask my

1 Is. xiv. 13.

2 Ps. xliii. (xhv.) 25.

3 Phil. ii. 6-S.

■• S. Matt. xi. 2g.

s Exod. V. 2.

^ S. John viii. 55.

' Ezek. XXIX. 3. (LXX.)

' S. John V. 30; xiv. 10.

" S. Luke iv. 6.

'" 2 Cor. viii. 9.

11 Is. X. 14.

12 Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8.
" Is. xxxvii. 25.

Father, and He shall presently give me more
than twelve legions of angels?" ^'^ If we look at
the reason of our original fall, and the foun-
dations of our salvation, and consider by
whom and in what way the latter were laid
and the former originated, we may learn,
either through the fall of the devil, or through
the example of Christ, how to avoid so terrible
a death from pride.

CHAPTER IX.

How we too may overcome pride.

And so we can escape the snare of this most
evil spirit, if in the case of every virtue in
which we feel that we make progress, we say
these words of the Apostle: "Not I, but the
grace of God with me," and "by the grace of
God I am what I am; " ^^ and " it is God that
worketh in us both to will and to do of His
good pleasure. " ^® As the author of our salva-
tion Himself also says: "If a man abide in
me and I in him, the same beareth much fruit;
for without me ye can do nothing."''^ And
" Except the Lord build the house, they la-
bour in vain that build it. Except the Lord
keep the city, the watchman waketh but in
vain." And "Vain is it for you to rise up
before light." ^^ For "it is not of him that
willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God
that hath mercy. ' ' ^^

CHAPTER X.

How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss
by his own strengtli alone.

For the will and course of no one, however
eager and anxious, -° is sufficiently ready for
him, while still enclosed in the flesh which
warreth against the spirit, to reach so great a
prize of perfection, and the palm of upright-
ness and purity, unless he is protected by the
divine compassion, so that he is privileged
to attain to that which he greatly desires and
to which he runs. For " every good gift and
every perfect gift is from above, and cometh
down from the Father of lights." ^^ " For what
hast thou which thou didst not receive? But
if thou hast received it, why dost thou glory
as if thou hadst not received it? " "

1* S. Matt. xxvi. 53. " S. John xv. 5.

>" I Cor. XV. 10. '■' Ps. c.xxvi. (cxxvii.) i, 2.

1" Phil. ii. 13. '" Rnni. ix. 16.

'" Qnatiivis ferventis et cupientis (Petschenig) : Quamvis VO-
leniis e/ currents (Gazxus).
'1 S. James i. 17. -- i Cor. iv. 7.

BOOK XII.

283

CHAPTER XL

The case of the thief and of David, and of our call in order to
illustrate the grace of God.

For if we recall that thief who was by reason
of a single confession admitted into paradise/
we shall feel that he did not acquire such bliss
by the merits of his life, but obtained it by
the gift of a merciful God. Or if we bear in
mind those two grievous and heinous sins of
King David, blotted out by one word of peni-
tence,- we shall see that neither here were the
merits of his works sufficient to obtain pardon
for so great a sin, but that the grace of God
superabounded, as, when the opportunity for
true penitence was taken, He removed the
whole weight of sins through the full confes-
sion of but one word. If we consider also the
beginning of the call and salvation of man-
kind, in which, as the Apostle says, we are
saved not of ourselves, nor of our works, but
by the gift and grace of God, we can clearly
see how the whole of perfection is "not of
him that willeth nor of him that runneth, but
of God that hath mercy," who makes us vic-
torious over our faults, without any merits of
works and life on our part to outweigh them,
or any effort of our will availing to scale the
difficult heights of perfection, or to subdue the
flesh which we have to use: since no tortures
of this body, and no contrition of heart, can
be sufficient for the acquisition of that true
chastity of the inner man so as to be able to
gain that great virtue of purity (which is innate
in the angels alone and indigenous as it were
to heaven) merely by human efforts, i.e., with-
out the aid of God: for the performance of
everything good Hows from His grace, who by
multiplying His bounty has granted such last-
ing bliss, and vast glory to our feeble will
and short and petty course of life.

CHAPTER XII.

That no toil is worthy to be compared with the promised
bliss.

For all the long years of this present life
disappear when you have regard to the eternity
of the future glory: and all our sorrows vanish
away in the contemplation of that vast bliss,
and like smoke melt away, and come to noth-
ing, and like ashes are no more seen.

CHAPTER XIII.

The leaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity.

Wherefore it is now time to produce, in
the very words in which they hand it down,
the opinion of the Fathers; viz., of those who
have not painted the way of perfection and its
character in high-sounding words, but rather,
possessing it in deed and truth, and in the
virtue of their spirit, have passed it on by
their own experience and sure example. And
so they say that no one can be altogether
cleansed from carnal sins, unless he has real-
ized that all his labours and efforts are insuffi-
cient for so great and perfect an end; and
unless, taught, not by the system handed down
to him, but by his feelings and virtues and
his own experience, he recognizes that it can
only be gained by the mercy and assistance of
God. For in order to acquire such splendid
and lofty prizes of purity and perfection, how-
ever great may be the efforts of fastings and
vigils and readings and solitude and retire-
ment applied to it, they will not be sufficient
to secure it by the merits of the actual efforts
and toil For a man's own.efforts and human
exertions will never make up for the lack of
the divine gift, unless it is granted by divine
compassion in answer to his prayer.

CHAPTER XIV.

That the help of God is given to those who labour .8

Nor do I say this to cast a slight on human
efforts, or in the endeavour to discourage any
one from his purpose of working and doing his
best. But clearly and most earnestly do I lay
down, not giving my own opinion, but that of
the elders, that perfection cannot possibly be
gained without these, but that by these only
without the grace of God nobody can ever
attain it. For when we say that human efforts
cannot of themselves secure it without the aid
of God, we thus insist that God's mercy and
grace are bestowed only upon those who labour
and exert themselves, and are granted (to use
the Apostle's expression) to them that "will "
and "run," according to that which is sung in
the person of God in the eighty-eighth Psalm ;
" I have laid help upon one that is mighty,
and have exalted one chosen out of my
people."* For we say, in accordance with

' Cf. S. Luke xxiii. 40.

' Cf. 2 Sam. xii. 13.

3 The language in this chapter is perilously near semi-Pelagian-
ism, on which compare the Introduction p. 190, sq.

4 Ps. Ixxxviii. (Ixxxix.) 20.

284

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

our Saviour's words, that it is given to them
that ask, and opened to them that knocks and
found by them that seek; ^ but that the asking,
the seeking, and the knocking on our part are
insufficient unless the mercy of God gives what
we ask, and opens that at which we knock,
and enables us to find that which we seek.
For He is at hand to bestow all these things,
if only the opportunity is given to Him by our
good will. For He desires and looks for our
perfection and salvation far more than we do
ourselves. And the blessed David knew so
well that by his own efforts he could not secure
the increase of his work and labour, that he
entreated with renewed prayers that he might
obtain the " direction " of his work fronj the
Lord, saying, "Direct thou the work of our
hands over us; yea, the work of our hands do
thou direct;"'-^ and again: "Confirm, O God,
what thou hast wrought in us."^

CHAPTER XV.

From whom we can learn the way of perfection.

And so, if we wish in very deed and truth
to attain to the crown of virtues, we ought to
listen to those teachers and guides who, not
dreaming with pompous declamations, but
learning by act and experience, are able to
teach us as well, and direct us likewise, and
show us the road by which we may arrive at
it by a most sure pathway; and who also testify
that they have themselves reached it by faith
rather than by any merits of their efforts. And
further, the purity of heart that they have ac-
quired has taught them this above all; viz.,
to recognize more and more that they are bur-
dened with sin (for their compunction for their
faults increases day by day in proportion as
their purity of soul advances), and to sigh con-
tinually from the bottom of their heart because
they see that they cannot possibly avoid the
spots and blemishes of those faults which are
ingrained in them throHgh the countless tri-
flings of the thoughts. And therefore they
declared that they looked for the reward of the
future life, not from the merits of their works,
but from the mercy of the Lord, taking no
credit to themselves for their great circum-
spection of heart in comparison with others,
since they ascribed this not to their own exer-
tions, but to divine grace; and without flatter-
ing themselves on account of the carelessness
of those who are cold, and worse than they
themselves are, they rather aimed at a lasting
humility by fixing their gaze on those whom

' S. Matt. vii. 7. 2 Ps. Ixxxix. (xc.) 17. 3 Ps. Ixvii. (Ixiii.) 29.

they knew to be really free from sin and al-
ready in the enjoyment of eternal bliss in the
kingdom of heaven, and so by this considera-
tion they avoided the downfall of pride, and
at the same time always saw both what they
were aiming at and what they had to grieve
over, as they knew that they could not attain
that purity of heart for which they yearned
while weighed down by the burden of the
flesh.

CHAPTER XVI.

That we cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection with-
out the mercy and inspiration of God.

We ought therefore, in accordance with their
teaching and instruction, so to press towards
it,and to be diligent in fastings, vigils, prayers,
and contrition of heart and body, for fear lest
all these things should be rendered useless by
an attack of this malady. For we ought to
believe not merely that we cannot secure this
actual perfection by our own efforts and exer-
tions, but also that we cannot perform those
things which we practise for its sake, viz., our
efforts and exertions and desires, without the
assistance of the divine protection, and the
grace of His inspiration, chastisement, and
exhortation, which He ordinarily sheds abroad
in our hearts either through the instrumen-
tality of another, or in His own person coming
to visit us.

CHAPTER XVIL

Various passages which clearly show that we cannot do any-
thing which belongs to our salvation without the aid of God.

Lastly, the Author of our salvation teaches
us what we ought not merely to think, but also
to acknowledge in everything that we do. " I
can," He says, "of mine own self do nothing,
but the Father which abideth in me. He doeth
the works." * He says, speaking in the human
nature which He had taken, ^ that He could
do nothing of Himself; and shall we, who are
dust and ashes, think that we have no need of
God's help in what pertains to our salvation?
And so let us learn in everything, as we feel
our own weakness, and at the same time His
help, to declare with the saints, " I was over-
turned that I might fall, but the Lord sup-
ported me. The Lord is my strength and my
praise: and He is become my salvation.""
And " Unless the Lord had helped me, my

■• S. John xiv. 10; V. 30.

5 Ex persona hominis assumpii. Seethe note on Against Nesto-
rius, I. V.

° Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 13, 14.

BOOK XII.

285

soul had almost dwelt in hell. If I said, My
foot is moved: Thy mercy, O Lord, assisted
me. According to the multitude of my sor-
rows in my heart, Thy comforts have given joy
to my soul."^ Seeing also that our heart is
strengthened in the fear of the Lord, and in
patience, let us say: "And the Lord became
my protector; and He brought me forth into
a large place.'- - And knowing that knowledge
is increased by progress in work, let us say:
"For thou lightest my lamp, O Lord: O my
God, enlighten my darkness, for by Thee
I shall be delivered from temptation, and
through my God I shall go over a wall."
Then, feeling that we have ourselves sought
for courage and endurance, and are being
directed with greater ease and without labour
in the path of the virtues, let us say, " It is
God who girded me with strength, and made
my way perfect ; who made my feet like hart's
feet, and setteth me up on high: who teacheth
my hands to war." And having also secured
discretion, strengthened with which we can
dash down our enemies, let us cry aloud to
God: "Thy discipline hath set me up^ unto
the end, and Thy discipline the same shall
teach me. Thou hast enlarged my steps under
me, and my feet are not weakened." And
because I am thus strengthened with Thy
knowledge and power, I will boldly take up
the words which follow, and will say, "I will
pursue after my enemies and overtake them :
and I will not turn again till they are con-
sumed. I will break them, and they shall
not be able to stand: they shall fall under my
feet."^ Again, mindful of our own infirmity,
and of the fact that while still burdened with
the weak flesh we cannot without His assist-
ance overcome such bitter foes as our sins are,
let us say, "Through Thee we will scatter our
enemies : ^ and through Thy name we will
despise them that rise up against us. For I
will not trust in my bow: neither shall my
sword save me. For Thou hast saved us from
them that afflict us: and hast put them to
shame that hate us."*' But further: "Thou
hast guided me with strength unto the battle,
and hast subdued under me them that rose
up against me. And Thou hast made mine
enemies turn their backs upon me, and hast
destroyed them that hated me." '' And reflect-
ing that with our own arms alone we cannot
conquer, let us say, " Take hold of arms and
shield: and rise up to help me. Bring out

1 Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 17-19.

2 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 20 sq.

' Erexit (Petschenig). Gazasus reads correxit, with the Vulgate.

* Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 33 sq.

^ Gazaus adds cornu after the Vulgate.

« Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 6-8.

' Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 40, 41.

the sword and stop the way against them that
persecute me: say to my soul, I am thy salva-
tion."* "And Thou hast made my arms like
a brazen bow. And Thou hast given me the
protection of Thy salva'tion : and Thy right
hand hath held me up. " ^ " For our fathers got
not the possession of the land through their
own sword; neither did their own arm save
them: but Thy right hand and Thine arm and
the light of Thy countenance because Thou
wast pleased with them."^** Lastly, as with
anxious mind we regard all His benefits
with thankfulness, let us cry to Him with the
inmost feelings of our heart, for all these
things, because we have fought, and have ob-
tained from Him the light of knowledge, and
self-control and discretion, and because He
has furnished us with His own arms, and
strengthened us with a girdle of virtue, and
because He has made our enemies turn their
backs upon us, and has given us the power of
scattering them like the dust before the wind :
"IwilLlove Thee, O Lord my strength; the
Lord^s my stronghold, my refuge and my de-
liverer. My God is my helper, and in Him
will I put my trust. My protector and the
horn of my salvation, and my support.
Praising I will call upon the name of the
Lord; and I shall be saved from mine ene-
mies." "

CHAPTER XVIIL

How we are protected by the grace of God not only in our
natural condition, but also by His daily Providence.

Not alone giving thanks to Him for that He
has created us as reasonable beings, and en-
dowed us with the power of free will, and
blessed us with the grace of baptism, and
granted to us the knowledge and aid of the
law, but for these things as well, which are
bestowed upon us by His daily providence;
viz., that He delivers us from the craft of our
enemies; that He works with us so that we
can overcome the sins of the flesh, that, even
without our knowing it, He shields us from
dangers; that He protects us from falling
into sin; that He helps us and enlightens us,
so that we can understand and recognize the
actual help which He gives us, (which some
will have it is what is meant by the law) ; ^-
that, when we are through His influence se-
cretly struck with compunction for our sins
and negligences. He visits us with His regard

' Ps. xxxiv. (xxxv.) 2-4.

" Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 35.

'" Ps. xliii. (xliv.') 4, 5.

'' Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 2-4.

1- The allusion is to the Pelagians. Cf. S. Jerome Contra Pelag.
I. c. ix.; and in Jerem. c. xxv. ; and S. Augustine De Gratia Christi
contra Pelag.

286

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

and chastens us to our soul's health ; that even
against our will we are sometimes drawn by
Him to salvation; lastly that this very free
will of ours, which is more readily inclined
to sin, is turned by Him to abetter purpose,
and by His prompting and suggestion, bent
towards the way of virtue.

CHAPTER XIX.

How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to
lis by the ancient Fathers.

This then is that humilitv towards God,
this is that genuine faith of the ancient fa-
thers which still remains intact among their
successors. And to this faith, the apostolic
virtues, which they so often showed, bear an
undoubted witness, not only among us but
also among infidels and unbelievers: for keep-
ing in simplicity of heart the simple faith of
the fishermen they did not receive it in a
worldly spirit through dialectical syllogisms
or the eloquence of a Cicero, but learnt by the
experience of a pure life, and stainless actions,
and by correcting their faults, and (to speak
more truly) by visible proofs, that the character
of perfection is to be found in that faith with-
out which neither piety towards God, nor
purification from sin, nor amendment of life,
nor perfection of virtue can be secured.

CHAPTER XX.

Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most un-
clean spirit.

I KNEW one of the number of the brethren,
whom I heartily wish I had never known;
since afterw-ards he allowed himself to be
saddled with the responsibilities of my or-
der: ^ who confessed to a most admirable elder
that he was attacked by a terrible sin of the
flesh : for he was inflamed with an intolerable
lust, with the unnatural desire of suffering
rather than of committing a shameful act :
then the other like a true spiritual physician, at
once saw through the inward cause and ori-
gin of this evil. And, sighing deeply, said:
" Never would the Lord have suffered you
to be given over to so foul a spirit unless
you had blasphemed against Him. " And he,
when this was discovered, at once fell at his
feet on the ground, and, struck with the ut-
most astonishment, as if he saw the secrets of
his heart laid bare by God, confessed that he
had blasphemed with evil thoughts against
the Son of God. Whence it is clear that one

* Viz., that of the priesthood.

who is possessed by the spirit of pride, or
who has been guilty of blasphemy against
God, — as one who offers a wrong to Him
from whom the gift of purity must be looked
for — is deprived of his uprightness and per-
fection, and does not deserve the sanctifying
grace of chastitj.

CHAPTER XXI.

The instance of Joash, King of Judah, showing what was the
consequence of his pride.

Some such thing we read of in the book of
Chronicles. For Joash the king of Judah at
the age of seven was summoned by Jehoiada
the priest to the kingdom and by the witness
of Scripture is commended for all his actions
as long as the aforesaid priest lived. But hear
what Scripture relates of him after Jehoiada 's
death, and how he was puffed up with pride
and given over to a most disgraceful state.
" But after the death of Jehoiada the princes
went in and worshipped the king: and he was
soothed by their services and hearkened unto
them. And they forsook the temple of the
Lord, the God of their fathers, and served
groves and idols, and great wrath came upon
Judah and Jerusalem because of this sin."
And after a little: " When a year was come
about, the army of Syria came up against him:
and they came to Judah and Jerusalem, and
killed all the princes of the people, and they
sent all the spoils to the king to Damascus.
And whereas there came a very small number
of the Syrians, the Lord delivered into their
hands an infinite multitude, because they had
forsaken the Lord the God of their fathers:
and on Joash they executed shameful judg-
ments. And departing they left him in great
diseases." ^ You see how the consequence of
pride was that he was given over to shocking
and filthy passions. For he who is puffed
up with pride and has permitted himself to be
worshipped as God, is (as the Apostle says)
"given over to shameful passions and a repro-
bate mind to do those things which are not
convenient." ' And because, as Scripture says,
"every one who exalts his heart is unclean be-
fore God," ■* he who is puffed up with swelling
pride of heart is given over to most shameful
confusion to be deluded by it, thnt when thus
humbled he may know that he is unclean
through impurity of the flesh and knowledge
of impure desires, — a thing which he had
refused to recognize in the pride of his heart;
and also that the shameful infection of the

° 2 Chr. xxiv. 17, 18; 23-25.

3 Rom. i. 26, 28.

♦ Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX.).

BOOK XII.

287

flesh may disclose the hidden impurity of the
heart, which he contracted through the sin of
pride, and that through the patent pollution
of his body he may be proved to be impure,
who did not formerly see that he had become
unclean through the pride of his spirit.

CHAPTER XXII

That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness to be
deceived by it.

And this clearly shows that every soul of
which the swellings of pride have taken pos-
session, is given over to the Syrians of the
soul,^ i.e., to spiritual wickedness, and that it
is entangled in the lusts of the flesh, that the
soul being at last humbled by earthly faults,
and carnally polluted, may recognize its un-
cleanness, though while it stood erect in the
coldness of its heart, it could not understand
that through pride of heart it was rendered
unclean in the sight of God; and by this
means being humbled, a man may get rid of
his former coldness, and being cast down and
confused with the shame of his fleshly lusts,
may thenceforward hasten to betake himself
the more eagerly towards fervour and warmth
of spirit.

CHAPTER XXIII.

How perfection can only be attained through the virtue of

humility.

And so it is clearly shown that none can
attain the end of perfection and purity, ex-
cept through true humility, which he displays
in the first instance to the brethren, and shows
also to God in his inmost heart, believing
that without His protection and aid extended
to him at every instant, he cannot possibly
obtain the perfection which he desires and to
which he hastens so eagerly.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride.

Thus much let it suffice to have spoken, as
far as, by God's help, our slender ability was
able, concerning spiritual pride of which we
have said that it attacks advanced Christians.
And this kind of pride is not familiar to or
experienced by most men, because the ma-
jority do not aim at attaining perfect purity
of heart, so as to arrive at the stage of these

' Intellectuales.

conflicts; nor have they secured any purifica-
tion from the preceding faults of which we
have here explained both the character and
the remedies in separate books. But it gen-
erally attacks those only who have conquered
the former faults and have already almost ar-
rived at the top of the tree in respect of the
virtues. And because our most crafty enemy
has not been able to destroy them through a
carnal fall, he endeavours to cast them down
and overthrow them by a spiritual catastrophe,
trying by this to rob them of the prizes of
their ancient rewards secured as they were
with great labour. But as for us, who are still
entangled in earthly passions, he never deigns
to tempt us in this fashion, but overthrows
us by a coarser and what I called a carnal
pride. And therefore I think it well, as I
promised, to say a few things about this
kind of pride by which we and men of our
stamp are usually affected, and the minds
especially of younger men and beginners are
endangered.

CHAPTER XXV.

A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it pro-
duces in the soul of a monk.

This carnal pride therefore, of which we
spoke, when it has gained an entrance into
the heart of a monk, which is but lukewarm,
and has made a bad start in renouncing the
world, does not suffer him to stoop from his
former state of worldly haughtiness to the true
humility of Christ, but first of all makes him
disobedient and rough; then it does not let
him be gentle and kindly; nor allows him to
be on a level with and like his brethren: nor
does it permit him to be stripped and de-
prived of his worldly goods, as God and our
Saviour commands: and, though renunciation
of the world is nothing but the mark of mor-
tification and the cross, and cannot begin or
rise from any other foundations, but these; viz.,
that a man should recognize that he is not
merely spiritually dead to the deeds of this
world, but also should realize daily that he
must die in the body — it makes him on the
contrary hope for a long life, and sets before
him many lengthy infirmities, and covers him
with shame and confusion. If when stripped of
everything he has begun to be supported by
the property of others and not his own, it per-
suades him that it is much better for food and
clothing to be provided for him by his own
rather than by another's means according to
that text (which, as was before said,^ those

2 See Book X. c. xviii.

288

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

who are rendered dense through such dulness
and coldness of heart, cannot possibly under-
stand.) "It is more blessed to give than to

receive

M 1

CHAPTER XXVI.

That a man whose foundation is bad, sinks daily from bad to

worse.

Those then who are possessed by such dis-
trust of mind, and who through the devil's
own want of faith fall away from that spark
of faith, by which they seemed in the early
days of their conversion to be enkindled, begin
more anxiously to watch over the money which
before they had begun to give away, and
treasure it up with greater avarice, as men
who cannot recover again what they have
once wasted : or — what is still worse —
take back what they had formerly cast away :
or else (which is a third and most disgusting
kind of sin), collect what they never before
possessed, and thus are convicted of having
gone no further in forsaking the world than
merely to take the name and style of monk.
With this beginning therefore, and on this
bad and rotten foundation, it is a matter of
course that the whole superstructure of faults
must rise, nor can anything be built on such
villanous foundations, except what will bring
the wretched soul to the ground with a hope-
less collapse.

CHAPTER XXVII.

A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride.

The mind then that is hardened by such
feelings, and which begins with this miserable
coldness is sure to go daily from bad to worse
and to conclude its life with a more hideous
end: and while it takes delight in its former
desires, and is overcome, as the apostle says,
by impious avarice (as he says of it "and
,covetousness, which is idolatry, or the worship
of idols," and again "the love of money,"
says he, "is the root of all evils " ^) can never
admit into the heart the true and unfeigned
humility of Christ, while the man boasts
himself of his high birth, or is puffed up by
his position in the world (which he has for-
saken in body but not in mind) or is proud
of his wealth which he retains to his own
destruction; and because of this he is no
longer content to endure the yoke of the
monastery, or to be instructed by the teach-
ing of any of the elders, and not only objects

to observe any rule of subjection or obedience,
but will not even listen to teaching about
perfection; and such dislike of spiritual talk
grows up in his heart that if such a conversa-
tion should happen to arise, he cannot keep
his eyes fixed on one spot, but his gaze wan-
ders blankly about here and there, and his
eyes shift hither and thither, as the custom is.
Instead of wholesome coughs, he spits from
a dry throat: he coughs on purpose without
any need, he drums with h-is fingers, and twid-
dles them and scribbles like a man writing:
and all his limbs fidget so that while the spir-
itual conversation is proceeding, you would
think that he was sitting on thorns, and those
very sharp ones, or in the midst of a mass of
worms: and if the conversation turns in all
simplicity on something which is for the good
of the hearers, he thinks that it is brought
forward for his especial benefit. And all the
time that the examination of the spiritual life
is proceeding, he is taken up with his own
suspicious thoughts, and is not on the watch
for something to take home for his good, but
is anxiously seeking the reason why anything
is said, or is quietly turning over in his mind,
how he can raise objections to it, so that he
cannot at all take in any of those thing's
which are so admirably brought forward, or
be done any good to by them. And so the
result is that the spiritual conference is not
merely of no use to him, but is positively
injurious, and becomes to him an occasion
of greater sin. For while he is conscience
stricken and fancies that everything i^s being
aimed at him he hardens himself more stub-
bornly in the obstinacy of his heart, and is
more keenly affected by the stings of his
wrath : then afterwards his voice is loud, his
talk harsh, his answers bitter and noisy,
his gait lordly and capricious; his tongue too
ready, he is forward in conversation and no
friend to silence except when he is nursing in
his heart some bitterness against a brother,
and his silence denotes not compunction or
humility, but pride and wrath: so that one
can hardly say which is the more objection-
able in him, that unrestrained and boisterous
merriment, or this dreadful and deadly solem-
nity.^ For in the former we see inopportune
chattering, light and frivolous laughter, unre-
strained and undisciplined mirth. In the
latter a silence that is full of wrath and deadly;
and which simply arises from the desire to
prolong as long as possible the rancorous
feelings which are nourished in silence against
some brother, and not from the wish to obtain
from it the virtues of humility and patience.

1 Acts XX. 35.

' Col. iii. 5 ; i Tim. vi. 10.

3 Serietas (Petschenig) : TacUumitas (Gazsus).

BOOK XII.

289

And as the man who is a victim to passion
readily makes everybody else miserable and is
ashamed to apologize to the brother whom he
has wronged, so when the brother offers to do
so to him, he rejects it with scorn. And not
only is he not touched or softened by the ad-
vances of his brother; but is the rather made
more angry because his brother anticipates
him in humility. And that wholesome hu-
miliation and apology, which generally puts
an end to the devil's temptation, becomes to
him an occasion of a worse outbreak.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

On the pride of a certain brother.

I HAVE heard while I have been in this dis-
trict a thing which I shudder and am ashamed
to recall; viz., thatoneof the juniors — whenhe
was reproved by his Abbot because he had
shown signs of throwing off the humility, of
which he had made trial for a short time at
his renunciation of the world, and of being
puffed up with diabolical pride — most im-
pertinently answered " Did I humiliate myself
for a time on purpose to be always in subjec-
tion? " And at this wanton and wicked reply
of his the elder was utterly aghast, and could
say nothing, as if he had received this answer
from old Lucifer himself and not from a man;
so that he could not possibly utter a word
against such impudence, but only let fall sighs
and groans from his heart; turning over in
silence in his mind that which is said of our
Saviour: "Who being in the form of God
humbled Himself and became obedient" —
not, as the man said who was seized with a
diabolical spirit of pride, "for a time," but
" even to death." ^

CHAPTER XXIX.

The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal
pride in a soul.

And to draw together briefly what has been
said of this kind of pride, by collecting, as well
as we can, some of its signs that we may some-
how convey to those who are thirsting for in-
struction in perfection, an idea of its charac-
teristics from the movements of the outward
man: I think it well to unfold them in a few
words that we may conveniently recognize the
signs by which we can discern and detect it,
that when the roots of this passion are laid
bare and brought to the surface, and seen and

Phil. ii. 6, 8.

traced out with ocular demonstration, they
may be the more easily plucked up and
avoided. For only then will this most pesti-
lent evil be altogether escaped, and if we do
not begin too late in the day, when it has
already got the mastery over us, to be on our
guard against its dangerous heat and noxious
influence, but if, recognizing its symptoms
(so to speak) beforehand, we take precautions
against it with wise and careful forethought.
For, as we said before, you can tell a man's
inward condition from his outward gait. By
these signs, then, that carnal pride, of which
we spoke earlier, is shown. To begin with,
in conversation the man's voice is loud: in
his silence there is bitterness: in his mirth
his laughter is noisy and excessive: when he
is serious he is unreasonably gloomy: in his
answers there is rancour : he is too free with
his tongue, his words tumbling out at random
without being weighed. He is utterly lacking
in patience, and without charity : impudent in
offering insults to others, faint-hearted in
bearing them himself: troublesome in the
matter of obedience except where his own
wishes and likings correspond with his duty:
unforgiving in receiving admonition: weak in
giving up his own wishes : very stubborn about
yielding to those of others : always trying to
compass his own ends, and never ready to
give them up for others : and thus the result
is that though he is incapable of giving sound
advice, yet in everything he prefers his own
opinion to that of the elders.

CHAPTER XXX.

How when a man has grown cold through pride he wants to
be put to rule other people.

And when a man whom pride has mastered
has fallen through these stages of descent, he
shudders at the discipline of the coenobium,
and — as if the companionship of the brethren
hindered his perfection, and the sins of others
impeded and interfered with his advance in
patience and humility — he longs to take up
his abode in a solitary cell ; or else is eager to
build a monastery and gather together some
others to teach and instruct, as if he would do
good to many more people, and make him-
self from being a bad disciple, a still worse
master. For when through this pride of heart
a man has fallen into this most dangerous and
injurious coldness, he can neither be a real
monk nor a man of the world, and what is
worse, promises to himself to gain perfection
by means of this wretched state and manner
of life of his.

290

THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER XXXI.

How we can overcome pride and attain perfection.

Wherefore if we wish the summit of our
building to be perfect and to rise well-pleas-
ing to God, we should endeavour to lay its
foundations not in accordance with the desires
of our own lust, but according to the rules
of evangelical strictness : which can only be
the fear of God and humility, proceeding from
kindness and simplicity of heart. But hu-
mility cannot possibly be acquired without
giving up everything : and as long as a man is
a stranger to this, he cannot possibly attain
the virtue of obedience, or the strength of
patience, or the serenity of kindness, or the
perfection of love; without which things our
hearts cannot possibly be a habitation for the
Holy Spirit: as the Lord says through the
prophet: " Upon whom shall My spirit rest,
but on him that is humble and quiet and fears
My words, " or according to those copies which
express the Hebrew accurately: "To whom
shall I have respect, but to him that is poor
and little and of a contrite spirit and that
trembleth at My words?" ^

CHAPTER XXXII.

How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be
destroyed by true humility.

Wherefore the Christian athlete who
strives lawfully in the spiritual combat and
desires to be crowned by the Lord, should
endeavour by every means to destroy this most
fierce beast, which is destructive of all virtues,
knowing that as long as this remains in his
breast he not only will never be free from all
kinds of evils, but even if he seems to have
any good qualities, will lose them by its ma-
lign influence. For no structure (so to speak)
of virtue can possibly be raised in our soul un-
less first the foundations of true humility are

> Is. Ixvi. 2. It is noteworthy that Cassian after giving a render-
ing which differs but slightly from that of the old Latin, as given in
Sabbatier's great work, adds the version of " those copies which
express the Hebrew accurately," and thus shows his acquaintance
with Jerome's new translation which he quotes. He does the same
thing again in the Conferences, XXIII. viii.; and On the Incarnation
Against Nestorius IV. iii.; V. ii. ; xv. Compare also Institutes
VIII. xxi., and Conf. VIII. x., where he also betr.ays a knowledge
of the Vulgate. As a general rule, however, his translations are taken
from the old Latin/or possibly iu some cases are made by him from
the LXX.

laid in our heart, which being securely laid
may be able to bear the weight of perfection
and love upon them in such a way that, as we
have said, we may first show to our brethren
true humility from the very bottom of our
heart, in nothing acquiescing in making them
sad or in injuring them: and this we cannot
possibly manage unless true self-denial, which
consists in stripping and depriving ourselves
of all our possessions, is implanted in us by
the love of Christ. Next the yoke of obedience
and subjection must be taken up in simplicity
of heart without any pretence, so that, except
for the commands of the Abbot, no will of our
own is alive in us. But this can only be en-
sured in the case of one who considers himself
not only dead to this world, but also unwise
and a fool ; and performs without any discus-
sion whatever is enjoined him by his seniors,
believing it to be divine and enjoined from
heaven.

CHAPTER XXXIIL

Remedies against the evil of pride.

And when men remain in this condition,
there is no doubt that this quiet and secure
state of humility will follow, so that consider-
ing ourselves inferior to every one else we shall
bear everything offered to us, even if it is
hurtful, and saddening, and damaging — with
the utmost patience, as if it came from those
who are our superiors. And these things we
shall not only bear with the greatest ease, but
we shall consider them trifling and mere
nothings, if we constantly bear in mind the
passion of our Lord and of all His Saints:
considering that the injuries by which we are
tried are so much less than theirs, as we are
so far behind their merits and their lives:
remembering also that we shall shortly depart
out of this world, and soon by a speedy end
to our life here become sharers of their lot.
For considerations such as these are a sure
end not only to pride but to all kinds of sins.
Then, next after this we must keep a firm grasp
of this same humility towards God: which we
must so secure as not only to acknowledge
that we cannot possibly perform anything con-
nected with the attainment of perfect virtue
without His assistance and grace, but also
truly to believe that this very fact that we can
understand this, is His own gift.

THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN.

PART I.

CONTAINING CONFERENCES l-X.

PRE FACE.

The obligation, which was promised to the blessed Pope Castor in the preface to those
volumes which with God's help I composed in twelve books on the Institutes of the Coeno-
bia, and the remedies for the eight principal faults, has now been, as far as my feeble ability
permitted, satisfied. I should certainly like to see what was the opinion fairly arrived at on
this work both by his judgment and yours, whether, on a matter so profound and so lofty,
and one which has never yet been made the subject of a treatise, we have produced anything
worthy of your notice, and of the eager desire of all the holy brethren. But now as the afore-
said Bishop has left us and departed to Christ, meanwhile these ten Conferences of the grand-
est of the fathers, viz., the Anchorites who dwelt in the desert of Scete, which he, fired with
an incomparable desire for saintliness, had bidden me write for him in the same style (not
considering in the greatness of his affection, what a burden he placed on shoulders too weak
to bear it) — these Conferences I have thought good to dedicate to you in particular, O blessed
Pope, ^ Leontius, " and holy brother Helladius.^ For one of you was united to him whom I
have mentioned, by the ties of brotherhood, and the rank of the priesthood, and (what is
more to the point) by fervour in sacred study, and so has an hereditary right to demand
the debt due to his brother: while the other has ventured to follow the sublime customs of
the Anchorites, not like some others, presumptuously on his own account, but seizing, at the
inspiration of the Holy Ghost, on the right path of doctrine almost before he had been taught
and choosing to learn not so much from his own ideas as from their traditions. Wherein
just as I had anchored in the harbour of Silence, a wide sea opens out before me, so that I
must venture to hand down for posterity some of the Institutes and teaching of these great men.
For the bark of my slender abilities will be exposed to the dangers of a longer voyage on the
deep, in proportion as the Anchorite's life is grander than that of the Coenobium, and the con-
templation of God, to which those inestimable men ever devoted themselves, more sublime
than ordinary practical life. It is yours therefore to assist our efforts by your pious prayers
for fear lest so sacred a subject that is to be treated in an untried but faithful manner, should
be imperilled by us, or lest our simplicity should lose itself in the depths of the subject
matter. Let us therefore pass from what is visible to the eye and the external mode of life of
the monks, of which we treated in the former books, to the life of the inner man, which is
hidden from view; and from the system of the canonical prayers, let our discourse mount to
that continuance in unceasing prayer, which the Apostle enjoins, that whoever has through
reading our former work already spiritually gained the name of Jacob by ousting his car-
nal faults, may now by the reception of the Institutes which are not mine but the fathers',
mount by a pure insight to the merits and (so to speak) the dignity of Israel, and in the

^ Papa. See note on the Preface to the Institutes.

'^ The see of which Leontius was Bishop is uncertain, possibly Fr^jus.

3 Helladius was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, but of what see is unknown. See the Preface to Conf. XVIII.

^93

294 PREFACE.

same way be taught what it is that he should observe on these lofty heights of perfection.^
And so may your prayers gain from Him, Who has deemed us worthy both to see them and to
learn from them and to dwell with them, that He will vouchsafe to grant us a perfect recol-
lection of their teaching, and a ready tongue to tell it, that we may explain them as
beautifully and as exactly as we received them from them and may succeed in setting before
you' the men themselves incorporated, as it were, in their own Institutes, and what is more to
the point, speaking in the Latin tongue. Of this however we wish above all to advertise the
reader of these Conferences as well as of our earlier works, that if there chances to be any-
thing herein which by reason of his condition and the character of his profession, or owing
to custom and the common mode of life seems to him either impossible or very difficult, he ■
should measure it not by the limits of his own powers but by the worth and perfection of
the speakers, whose zeal and purpose he should first consider, as they were truly dead to
this worldly life, and so hampered by no feelings for their kinsmen according to the flesh,
and by no ties of worldly occupations. Next let him bear in mind the character of the country
in which they dwelt, how they lived in a vast desert, and were cut off from intercourse
with all their fellow-men, and thus were able to have their minds enlightened, and to con-
template, and utter those things which perhaps will seem impossibilities to the uninitiated
and uninstructed, because of their way of life and the commonplace character of their habits.
But if any one wants to give a true opinion on this matter, and is anxious to try whether
such perfection can be attained, let him first endeavour to make their purpose his own, with
the same zeal and the same mode of life, and then in the end he will find that those things
which used to seem beyond the powers of men, are not only possible, but really delightful.
But now let us proceed at once to their Conferences and Institutes.

^ The allusion is rather forced and strained. But Cassian means to say that those who have got the better of their carnal sins by
perusing his former work, are already fit to be named Jacob (the supplanter), who got the better of his brother : and he hopes that
this new work of his will give them such a view of God and insight into His dealings that they may be worthy to have their name
changed, as Jacob's was, to Israel, which he takes to mean the man seeing God. Cf. the note on Against Nestorius, VII. ix. (intelligi-
bilis here = spiritualis, cf. intellectualis. Conf. XII. xi., and elsewhere).

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

CHAPTER I.

Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot
Moses.

When I was in the desert of Scete, where
are the most excellent monastic fathers and
where all perfection flourishes, in company
with the holy father Germanus (who had since
the earliest days and commencement of bur
spiritual service been my closest companion
both in the coenobium and in the desert, so
that to show the harmony of our friendship
and aims, everybody would say that a single
heart and soul existed in our two bodies), I
sought out Abbot Moses, ^ who was eminent
amid those splendid flowers, not only in practi-
cal but also in contemplative excellence, in
my anxiety to be grounded by his instruction :
and together we implored him to give us a dis-
course for our edification ; not without tears,
for we knew full well his determination never
to consent to open the gate of perfection, ex-
cept to those who desired it with all faithful-
ness, and sought it with all sorrow of heart;
for fear lest if he showed it at random to
those who cared nothing for it, or only desired
it in a half-hearted way, by opening what is
necessary, and what ought only to be discov-
ered to those seeking perfection, to unworthy
persons, and such as accepted it with scorn, he
might appear to lay himself open either to the
charge of bragging, or to the sin of betraying
his trust; and at last being overcome by our
prayers he thus began.

CHAPTER II.

Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal
and what the end of the monk.

All the arts and sciences, said he, have
some goal or mark; and end or aim of their

' On this Moses see the note on the Institutes, Book X.

own, on which the diligent pursuer of each art
has his eye, and so endures all sorts of toils
and dangers and losses, cheerfully and with
I equanimity, e.g., the farmer, shunning nei-
I ther at one time the scorching heat of the sun,
nor at another the frost and cold, cleaves the
earth unweariedly, and again and again sub-
jects the clods of his field to his ploughshare,
while he keeps before him his goal; viz., by
diligent labour to break it up small like fine
sand, and to clear it of all briers, and free it
from all weeds, as he believes that in no
other way can he gain his ultimate end, which
is to secure a good harvest, and a large crop ;
on which he can either live himself free from
care, or can increase his possessions. Again,
when his barn is well stocked he is quite
ready to empty it, and with incessant labour
to commit the seed to the crumbling furrow,
thinking nothing of the present lessening of
his stores in view of the future harvest. Those
men too who are engaged in mercantile pur-
suits, have no dread of the uncertainties and .
chances of the ocean, and fear no risks, while
an eager hope urges them forward to their aim
of gain. Moreover those who are inflamed with
the ambition of military life, while they look
forward to their aim of honours and power take
no notice of danger and destruction in their
wanderings, and are not crushed by present
losses and wars, while they are eager to obtain
the end of some honour held out to them.
And our profession too has its own goal and
end, for which we undergo all sorts of toils
not merely without weariness but actually
with delight; on account of which the want of
food in fasting is no trial to us, the weariness
of our vigils becomes a delight; reading and
constant meditation on the Scriptures does not
pall upon us; and further incessant toil, and
self-denial, and the privation of all things,
and the horrors also of this vast desert have
no terrors for us. And doubtless for this it
was that you yourselves despised the love of

-95

296

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

kinsfolk, and scorned your fatherland, and
the delights of this world, and passed through
so many countries, in order that you might
come to us, plain and. simple folk as we are,
living in this wretched state in the desert.
Wherefore, said he, answer and tell me what
is the goal and end, which incite you to en-
dure all these things so cheerfully.

CHAPTER III.

Of our reply.

And when he insisted on eliciting an opinion
from us on this question, we replied that we
endured all this for the sake of the kingdom

of heaven.

CHAPTER IV,

Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement.

To which he replied: Good, you have spo-
ken cleverly of the (ultimate) end. But what
should be our (immediate) goal or mark, by
constantly sticking close to which we can gain
our end, you ought first to know. And when
we frankly confessed our ignorance, he pro-
ceeded : The first thing, as I said, in all the
arts and sciences is to have some goal, i.e.,
a mark for the mind, and constant mental
purpose, for unless a man keeps this before
him with all diligence and persistence, he
will never succeed in arriving at the ultimate
aim and the gain which he desires. For, as
I said, the farmer who has for his aim to live
free from care and with plenty, while his crops
are springing has this as his immediate object
and goal; viz., to keep his field clear from all
brambles, and weeds, and does not fancy that
he can otherwise ensure wealth and a peace-
ful end, unless he first secures by some plan
of work and hope that which he is anxious to
obtain. The business man too does not lay
aside the desire of procuring wares, by means
of which he may more profitably amass riches,
because he would desire gain to no purpose,
unless he chose the road which leads to it:
and those men who are anxious to be deco-
rated with the honours of this world, first
make up their minds to what duties and con-
ditions they must devote themselves, that in
the regular course of hope they may succeed
in gaining the honours they desire. And so
the end of our way of life is indeed the kingdom
of God. But what is the (immediate) goal you
must earnestly ask, for if it is not in the same
way discovered by us, we shall strive and
wear ourselves out to no purpose, because a

man who is travelling in a wrong direction, has
all the trouble and gets none of the good of
his journey. And when we stood gaping at
this remark, the old man proceeded : The
end of our profession indeed, ns I said, is
the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven :
but the immediate aim or goal, is purity of
heart, without which no one^ can gain that
end : fixing our gaze then steadily on this goal,
as if on a definite mark, let us direct our
course as straight towards it as possible, and
if our thoughts wander somewhat from this,
let us revert to our gaze upon it, and check
them accurately as by a sure standard, which
will always bring back all our efforts to this
one mark, and will show at once if our mind
has wandered ever so little from the direc-
tion marked out for it.

CHAPTER V.

A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark.

As those, whose business it is to use wea-
pons of war, whenever they want to show their
skill in their art before a king of this world,
try to shoot their arrows or darts into certain
small targets which have the prizes painted
on them ; for they know that they cannot in any
other way than by the line of their aim se-
cure the end and the prize they hope for,
which they will only then enjoy when they
have been able to hit the mark set before
them; but if it happens to be withdrawn from
their si^jht, however much in their want of
skill their aim may vainly deviate from the
straight path, yet they cannot perceive that
they have strayed from the direction of the
intended straight line because they have no
distinct mark to prove the skilfulness of their
aim, or to show up its badness: and therefore
while they shoot their missiles idly into space,
they cannot see how they have gone wrong or
how utterly at fault they are, since no mark is
their accuser, showing how far they have gone
astray from the right direction; nor can an
unsteady look help them to correct and restore
the straight line enjoined on them. So then
the end indeed which we have set before us is,
as the Apostle says, eternal life, as he declares,
"having indeed your fruit unto holiness, and
the end eternal life;"^ but the immediate
goal is purity of heart, which he not unfairly
terms " sanctification,'"' without which the
afore-mentioned end cannot be gained; as if
he had said in other words, having your im-
mediate goal in purity ot heart, but the end

1 Rom. vi. 22.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

297

life eternal. Of which goal the same blessed
Apostle teaches us, and significantly uses the
very term, i.e., uxonuc, saying as follows,
'' Forgetting those things which are behind and
reaching forward to those that are before,
I press toward the mark, for the prize of the
high calling of the Lord:" Mvhich is more
clearly put in Greek yuiu axonov Stwyw^ i.e., " I
press toward the mark," as if he said, "With
this aim, with which I forget those things that
are behind, i.e., the faults of earlier life, I
strive to reach as the end the heavenly prize. "
Whatever then can help to guide us to this
object; viz., purity of heart, we must follow
with all our might, but whatever hinders us
from it, we must shun as a dangerous and
hurtful thing. For, for this we do and endure
all things, for this we make light of our kins-
folk, our country, honours, riches, the delights
of this world, and all kinds of pleasures,
namely in order that we may retain a lasting
purity of heart. And so when this object is
set before us, we shall always direct our
actions and thoughts straight towards the
attainment of it; for if it be not constantly
fixed before our eyes, it will not only make
all our toils vain and useless, and force them
to be endured to no purpose and without any
reward, but it will also excite all kinds of
thoughts opposed to one another. For the
mind, which has no fixed point to which it may
return, and on which it may chiefly fasten,
is sure to rove about from hour to hour and
minute to minute in all sorts of wandering
thoughts, and from those things which come
to it from outside, to be constantly changed
into that state which first offers itself to it.

CHAPTER VI.

Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection with-
out love.

For hence it arises that in the case of
some who have despised the greatest posses-
sions of this world, and not only large sums of
gold and silver, but also large properties, we
have seen them afterwards disturbed and ex-
cited over a knife, or pencil, or pin, or pen.
Whereas if they kept their gaze steadily fixed
out of a pure heart "they would certainly never
allow such a thing to happen for trifles, while
in order that they might not suffer it in the case
of great and precious riches they chose rather to
renounce them altogether. For often too some
guard their books so jealously that they will
not allow them to be even slightly moved or
touched by any one else, and from this fact

' Phil. iii. 13, i^.

they meet with occasions of impatience and
death, which give them warning of the need of
acquiring the requisite patience and love; and
when they have given up all their wealth for
the love of Christ, yet as they preserve their
former disposition in the matter of trifles, and
are sometimes quickly upset about them, they
become in all points barren and unfruitful, as
those who are without the charity of which the
Apostle speaks: and this the blessed Apostle
foresaw in spirit, and "though," says he, "I
give all my goods to feed the poor, and give
my body to be burned, but have not charity,
it profiteth me nothing."" And from this it
clearly follows that perfection is not arrived at
simply by self-denial, and the giving up of all
our goods, and the casting aw^ay of honours,
unless there is that charity, the details of
which the Apostle describes, which consists
in purity of heart alone. For "not to be
envious," "not to be puffed up, not to be
angry, not to do any wrong, not to seek one's
own, not to rejoice in iniquity, not to think
evil," etc., what is all this except ever to
offer to God a perfect and clean heart, and to
keep it free from all disturbances?

CHAPTER Vn.

How peace of mind should be sought.

Everything should be done and sought after
by us for the sake of this. For this we must
seek for solitude, for this we know that we
ought to submit to fastings, vigils, toils, bodily
nakedness, reading, and all other virtues that
through them we may be enabled to prepare
our heart and to keep it unharmed by all evil
passions, and resting on these steps to mount
to the perfection of charity, and with regard to
these observances, if by accident we have been
employed in some good and useful occupation
and have been unable to carry out our custom-
ary discipline, we should not be overcome
by vexation or anger, or passion, with the ob-
ject of overcoming which, w^e were going to do
that which we have omitted. F"or the gain
from fasting will not balance the loss from
anger, nor is the profit from reading so great
as the harm which results from despising a
brother. Those things which are of secondary
importance, such as fastings, vigils, with-
drawal from the world, meditation on Scrip-
ture, we ought to practise with a view to our
main object, i.e., purity of heart, which is
charity, and we ought not on their account to
drive away this main virtue, for as long as it
is still found in us intact and unharmed, we

' I Cor. xiii. 3.

298

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

shall not be hurt if any of the things which
are of secondary importance are necessarily
omitted; since it will not be of the slightest
use to ha\-e done everything, if this main
reason of which we have spoken be removed,
for the sake of which everything is to be done.
For on this account one is anxious to secure
and provide for one's self the implements for
any branch of work, not simply to possess them
to no purpose, nor as if one made the profit
and advantage, which is looked for from them,
to consist in the bare fact of possession but
that by using them, one may effectually secure
practical knowledge and the end of that par-
ticular art of which they' are auxiliaries.
Therefore fastings, vigils, meditation on the
Scriptures, self-denial, and the abnegation of
all possesions are not perfection, but aids to
perfection : because the end of that science
does not lie in these, but by means of these we
arrive at the end. He then will practise these
exercises to no purpose, who is contented
with these as if they were the highest good,
and has fixed the purpose of his heart simply
on them, and does not extend his efforts
towards reaching the end, on account of which
these should be sought : for he possesses in-
deed the implements of his art, but is igno-
rant of the end, in which all that is valuable
resides. Whatever then can disturb that pu-
rity and peace of mind — even though it may
seem useful and valuable — should be shunned
as really hurtful, for by this rule we shall suc-
ceed in escaping harm from mistakes and va-
garies, and make straight for the desired end
and reach it.

CHAPTER Vin.

Of the main effort towards the contemplation of heavenly
things and an illustration from the case of Martha and
Mary.

This then should be our main effort : and
this steadfast purpose of heart we should con-
stantly aspire after; viz., that the soul may
ever cleave to God and to heavenly things.
Whatever is alien to this, however great it
may be, should be given the second place, or
even treated as of no consequence, or perhaps
as hurtful. We have an excellent illustration
of this state of mind and condition in the gos-
pel in the case of Martha and Mary: for when
Martha was performing a service that was cer-
tainly a sacred one, since she was ministering
to the Lord and His disciples, and Mary being
intent only on spiritual instruction was cling-
ing close to the feet of Jesus which she kissed
and anointed with the ointment of a good con-
fession, she is shown by the Lord to have
chosen the better part, and one which should

not be taken away from her : for when Martha
was toiling with pious care, and was cumbered
about her service, seeing that of herself alone
she was insufficient for such service she
asks for the help of her sister from the Lord,
saying: " Carest Thou not that my sister has
left me to serve alone : bid her therefore that
she help me" — certainly it was to no unworthy
work, but to a praiseworthy service that she
summoned her : and yet what does she hear
from the Lord? "Martha, Martha, thou art
anxious and troubled about many things: but
few things are needful, or only one. Mary
hath chosen the good part, which shall not be
taken away from her. ' ' •' You see then that the
Lord makes the chief good consist in medita-
tion, i.e., in divine contemplation: whence we
see that all other virtues should be put in the
second place, even though we admit that they
are necessary, and useful, and excellent, be-
cause they are all performed for the sake of
this one thing. For when the Lord says:
"Thou art careful and troubled about many
things, but few things are needful or only
one," He makes the chief good consist not in
practical work however praiseworthy and rich
in fruits it may be, but in contemplation of
Him, which indeed is simple and '*but one ";
declaring that "few things" are needful for
perfect bliss, i.e., that contemplation which is
first secured by reflecting on a few saints : from
the contemplation of whom, he who has made
some progress rises and attains by God's help
to that which is termed "one thing," i.e., the
consideration of God alone, so as to get beyond
those actions and services of saints, and feed
on the beauty and knowledge of God alone.
" Mary" therefore " chose the good part, which
shall not be taken away from her." And this
must be more carefully considered. For when
He says that Mary chose the good part, al-
though He says nothing of Martha, and cer-
tainly does not appear to blame her, yet in
praising the one, He implies that the other is
inferior. Again when He says "which shall
not be taken away from her " He shows that
from the other her portion can be taken away
(for a bodily ministry cannot last forever with
a man), but teaches that this one's desire can
never have an end.

CHAPTER IX.

A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain
with a man.

To which we, being deeply moved, replied
what then.-* will the effort of fasting, dili-

' S. Luke X. 40-42. The reading which C.issian here follows is
found in NBC,^ but has not much Latin authority. It is however

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

299

gence in reading, works of mercy, justice,
piety, and kindness, be taken away from us,
and not continue with the doers of them, es-
pecially since the Lord Himself promises the
reward of the kingdom of heaven to these
works, when He says: ''Come, ye blessed of i
My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for
you from the beginning of the world. For I
was an hungred, and ye gave Me to eat; I was ,
thirsty and ye gave Me to drink: " etc. ^ How
then shall these works be taken away, which
admit the doers of them into the kingdom of
heaven?

CHAPTER X.

The answer that not the reward, but the doing of them will
come to an end.

MosES. I did not say that the reward for
a good work would be taken away, as the Lord
Himself says: *' Whosoever shall give to one
of the least of these, a cup of cold water only
in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto
you, he shall not lose his reward : " ^ but I
maintain that the doing of a thing, which
either bodily necessity, or the onslaught of the
Hesh, or the inequalities of this world, com-
pel to be done, will be taken away. For dili-
gence in reading, and self-denial in fasting,
are usefully practised for purifying the heart
and chastening the flesh in this life only, as
long as "the flesh lusteth against the spirit,"^
and sometimes we see that even in this life
they are taken away from those men who are
worn out with excessive toil, or bodily infirm-
ity or old age, and cannot be practised by
them. How much more then will they come
to an end hereafter, when "this corruptible
shall have put on incorruption," * and the
body which is now " a natural body " shall have
risen "a spiritual body" ^ and the flesh shall
have begun to be such that it no longer lusts
against the spirit? And of this the blessed
Apostle also clearly speaks, when he says that
'* bodily exercise is profitable for a little: but
godliness '' (by which he certainly means love)
" is profitable for all things, having the promise
of the life that now is and of that which is to
come." ® This clearly shows that what is said
to be useful for a little, is not to be practised
for all time, and cannot possibly by itself
alone confer the highest state of perfection on
the man who slaves at it. For the term "for
a little " may mean either of the two things.

followed by Jerome Ep : ad Eustochium, xxii. 24, though the Vul-
gate has simply Porro unum est necessarium. For Mary as the type
of the contemplative life, and Martha of the practical, compare S.
Gregory the Great. Moralia VI. c. xxviii.

1 S. Matt. XXV. 34, 35. 3 Qai V. 17. 5 , Cor. xv. 44.

2 S. Matt. X. 42. * I Cor. xv. 53. " " i Tim. iv. 8.

i.e., it may refer to the shortness of the time,
because bodily exercise cannot possibly last
on with man both in this life and in the world
to come: or it may refer to the smallness of
the profit which results from exercising the
flesh, because bodily austerities produce some
sort of beginnings of progress, but not the
actual perfection of love, which has the prom-
ise of the life that now is and of that which
is to come : and therefore we deem that the
practice of the aforesaid works is needful,
because without them we cannot climb the
heights of love. For what you call works of
religion and mercy are needful in this life
while these inequalities and differences of
conditions still prevail; but even here we
should not look for them to be performed, un-
less such a large proportion of poor, needy,
and sick folk abounded, which is brought
about by the wickedness of men ; viz., of those
who have grasped and kept for their own use
(without however using them) those things
which were granted to all by the Creator of all
alike. As long then as this inequality lasts in
this world, this sort of work will be needful
and useful to the man that practises it, as it
brings to a good purpose and pious will the
reward of an eternal inheritance: but it will
come to an end in the life to come, where
equality will reign, when there will be no
longer inequality, on account of which these
things must be done, but all men will pass
from these manifold practical works to the
love of God, and contemplation of heavenly
things in continual purity of heart : to which
those men who are urgent in devoting them-
selves to knowledge and purifying the heart,
have chosen to give themselves up with all
their might and main, betaking themselves,
while they are still in the flesh, to that duty,
in which they are to continue, when they have
laid aside corruption, and when they come to
that promise of the Lord the Saviour, which
says "Blessed are the pure in heart for they
shall see God."''

CHAPTER XL

On the abiding character of love.

And why do you wonder that those duties
enumerated above will cease, when the holy
Apostle tells us that even the higher gifts of
the Holy Spirit will pass away: and points
out that charity alone will abide without end,
saying "whether there be prophecies, they
shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall
cease: whether there be knowledge, it will

T S. Matt. V. 8.

300

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

come to an end," but of this he says "Charity
never faileth." For all gifts are given for
a time as' use and need require, but when the
dispensation is ended they will without doubt
presently pass away: but love will never be
destroyed. For not only does it work usefully
in us in this world ; but also in that to come,
when the burden of bodily needs is cast off,
it will continue in far greater vigour and ex-
cellence, and will never be weakened by any
defect, but by means of its perpetual incor-
ruption will cling to God more intently and
earnestly. ^

CHAPTER XII.

A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation.

Germanus. Who then, while he is bur-
dened with our frail flesh, can be always so i
intent on this contemplation, as never to think
about the arrival of a brother, or visiting the
sick, or manual labour, or at least about !
showing kindness to strangers and visitors?
And lastly, who is not interrupted by pro-
viding for the body, and looking after it? Or
how and in what way can the mind cling to
the invisible and incomprehensible God, this
we should like to learn.

CHAPTER XIII.

The answer concerning the direction of the lieart towards God,
and concerning the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the
devil.

Moses. To cling to God continually, and
as you say inseparably to hold fast to medi-
tation on Him, is impossible for a man while
still in this weak flesh of ours. But we ought
to be aware on what we should have the pur-
pose of our mind fixed, and to what goal we
should ever recall the gaze of our soul : and
when the mind can secure this it may rejoice;
and grieve and sigh when it is withdrawn from
this, and as often as it discovers itself to have
fallen away from gazing on Him, it should
admit that it has lapsed from the highest
good, considering that even a momentary de-
parture from gazing on Christ is fornication.
And when our gaze has wandered ever so
little from Him, let us turn the eyes of the
soul back to Him, and recall our mental gaze
as in a perfectly straight direction. For
everything depends on the inward frame of
mind, and when the devil has been expelled
from this, and sins no longer reign in it, it
follows that the kingdom of God is founded

' I Cor. xiii. 8.

in us, as the Evangelist says '' The kingdom of
God Cometh not with observation, nor shall
men say Lo here, or lo there : for verily I say
unto you that the kingdom of God is within
you. " '" But nothing else can be '' within you, "'
but knowledge or ignorance of truth, and
delight either in vice or in virtue, through
which we prepare a kingdom for the devil or
for Christ in our heart: and of this kingdom
the Apostle describes the character, when he
savs " For the kingdom of God is not meat and
drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in
the Holy Ghost. "^ And so if the kingdom
of God is within us, and the actual kingdom of
God is righteousness and peace and joy, then
the man who abides in these is most cer-
tainly in the kingdom of God, and on the
contrary those who live in unrighteousness,
and discord, and the sorrow that worketh
death, have their place in the kingdom of the
devil, and in hell and death. For by these
tokens the kingdom of God and the kingdom
of the devil are distinguished: and in truth if
lifting up our mental gaze on high we would
consider that state in which the heavenly
powers live on high, who are truly in the
kingdom of God, what should we imagine it
to be except perpetual and lasting joy? For
what is so specially peculiar and appropri-
ate to true blessedness as constant calm and
eternal joy? And that you may be quite
sure that this, which we say, is really so, not
on my own authority But on that of the Lord,
hear how very clearly He describes the char-
acter and condition of that world: "Behold,"
says He, " I create new heavens and a new
earth: and the former things shall not be
remembered nor come into mind. But ye
shall be glad and rejoice forever in that
which I create." * And again "joy and glad-
ness shall be found therein : thanksgiving and
the voice of praise, and there shall be month
after month, and Sabbath after Sabbath. ' ' ^
And again: ''they shall obtain joy and glad-
ness ; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." '^
And if you want to know more definitely about
that life and the city of the saints, hear what
the voice of the Lord proclaims to the heav
enly Jerusalem herself: "I will make," says
He, "thine officers peace and thine overseers
righteousness. Violence shall no more be
heard in thy land, desolation nor destruction
within thy borders. And salvation shall take
possession of thy walls, and praise of thy
gates. The sun shall be no more thy light
by day, neither shall the brightness of the
moon give light to thee: but the Lord shall be

2 S. Luke xvii. 20, 21.
2 Rom. xiv. 17.

* Is. Ixv. 17, 18.
5 Is. li. 3 ; Ixvi. 23.

" Is. XXXV. 10

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

301

thine everlasting Hglit, and thy God thy glory.
Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall
thy moon withdraw itself: but the Lord shall
be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy
mourning shall be ended: " ^ and therefore the
holy Apostle does not say generally or with-
out qualification that every joy is the kingdom
of God, but markedly and emphatically that
ioy alone which is "in the Holy Ghost. " -
For he was perfectly aware of another detest-
able joy, of which we hear "the world shall
rejoice." ^ and '* woe unto you that laugh, for
ye shall mourn."* In fact the kingdom of
heaven must be taken in a threefold sense,
either that the heavens shall reign, i.e., the
saints over other things subdued, according
to this text, " Be thou over five cities, and
thou over ten ; " ^ and this which is said to the
disciples: " Ye shall sit upon twelve thrones
judging the twelve tribes of Israel:"*' or
that the heavens themselves shall begin to
be reigned over by Christ, when "all things
are subdued unto Him," and God begins to
be "all in all:"'^ or else that the saints
shall reign in heaven with the Lord.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the continuance of the soul.

Wherefore every one while still existing
in this body should already be aware that he
must be committed to that state and office, of
which he made himself a sharer and an ad-
herent while in this life, nor should he doubt
that in that eternal world he will be partner
of him, whose servant and minister he chose
to make himself here : according to that saying
of our Lord which savs " If anv man serve Me,
let him follow Me, and where I am, there shall
My servant also be. " ^ For as the kingdom of
the devil is gained by consenting to sin, so
the kingdom of God is attained by the practice
of virtue in purity of heart and spiritual know-
ledge. But where the kingdom of God is,
there most certainly eternal life is enjoyed,
and where the kingdom of the devil is, there
without doubt is death and the grave. And
the man who is in this condition, cannot
praise the Lord, according to the saying of
the prophet which tells us: "The dead cannot
praise Thee, O Lord; neither all they that go
down into the grave (doubtless of sin). But
we," says he, "who live (not forsooth to sin nor
to this world but to God) will bless the Lord,
from this time forth for evermore : for in death

1 Is. Ix. 17-20.
' Cf. Rom. xiv. 17.
' S. John xvi. 20.
* S. Luke vi. 25.

^ S. Luke xix. 17, 19.
6 S. Matt. xix. 2S.
' I Cor. XV. 28
* S. John xii. 26.

no man remembereth God : but in the grave
(of sin) who will confess to the Lord? "^ i.e.,
no one will. For no man even though he were
to call himself a Christian a thousand times
over, or a monk, confesses God when he is
sinning: no man who allows those things
which the Lord hates, remembereth God, nor
calls himself with any truth the servant of Him,
whose commands' he scorns with obstinate
rashness : in which death the blessed Apostle
declares that the widow is involved, who gives
herself to pleasure, saying "a widow who giv-
eth herself to pleasure is dead w'hile she liv-
eth. " " There are then many who while still
living in this body are dead, and lying in the
grave cannot praise God; and on the contrary
there are many who though they are dead in
the body yet bless God in the spirit, and praise
Him, according to this : "O ye spirits and souls
of the righteous, bless ye the Lord: " ^^ and
"every spirit shall praise the Lord. " ^" And in
the Apocalypse the souls of them that are
slain are not only said to praise God but to
address Him also. ■'^ In the gospel too the
Lord says with still greater clearness to the
Sadducees: "Have ye not read that which
was spoken by God, when He said to you : I
am the God of Abraham, and the God of
Isaac and the God of Jacob. He is not the
God of the dead but of the living: for all do
live unto Him. " ■*■* Of whom also the Apostle
says: "wherefore God is not ashamed to be
called their God: for He hath prepared for
them a city. "^^ For that they are not idle
after the separation from this body, and are
not incapable of feeling, the parable in the
gospel shows, which tells us of the beggar
Lazarus and Dives clothed in purple, one
of whom obtained a position of bliss, i.e.,
Abraham's bosom, the other is consumed
with the dreadful heat of eternal fire.-"' But if
you care too to understand the words spoken
to the thief "To-day thou shalt be with Me
in Paradise," " what do they clearly show but
that not only does their former intelligence
continue with the souls, but also that in their
changed condition they partake of some
state which corresponds to their actions and
deserts ? For the Lord would certainly never
have promised him this, if He had known
that his soul after being separated from the
flesh would either have been deprived of per-
ception or havg been resolved into nothing.
For it was not his flesh but his soul which w-as
to enter Paradise with Christ. At least we

8 ; \-i. 6.

" Ps. cxiii. 17
'" I Tim. V. 6.
»' Dan. iii. 86 (LXX),
12 Ps. cl. 6.
'3 Cf. Rev. vi. 9, 10.

32-

i< S. Matt. xxii. 31,

15 Heb. xi. 16.

18 Cf. S. Luke xvi. 19 sq.

1' S. Luke xxiii. 43.

;o2

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

must avoid, and shun with the utmost horror,
that wicked punctuation of the heretics, who,
as they do not believe that Christ could be
found in Paradise on the same day on which
He descended into hell, thus punctuate
'"Verily, I say unto you to-day," and making
a stop apply '"thou shall be with Me in Para-
dise," in such a way that they imagine that
this promise was not fulfdled at once after he
departed from this life, but that it will be
fullilled after the resurrection,^ as thev do not
understand what before the time of His resur-
rection He declared to the Jews, who fancied
that He was hampered by human difficulties
and weakness of the flesh as they were : " No
man hath ascended into heaven, but He who
came down from heaven, even the Son of man
who is in heaven:" " by which He clearly
shows that the souls of the departed are not
only not deprived of their reason, but that
they are not even without such feelings as
hope ahd sorrow, joy and fear, and that they
already are beginning to taste beforehand
something of what is reserved for them at the
last judgment, and that they are not as some
unbelievers hold resolved into nothing after
their departure from this life: ^ but that they
live a more real life, and are still more earnest
in waiting on the praises of God. And in-
deed to put aside for a little Scripture proofs,
and to discuss, as far as our ability permits
us, a little about the nature of the soul itself,
is it not beyond the bounds of I will not say
the folly, but the madness of all stupidity,
even to have the slightest suspicion that the
nobler part of man, in which as the blessed
Apostle shows, the image and likeness of God
consists,* will, when the burden of the body
with which it is oppressed in this world is laid
aside, become insensible, when, as it contains
in itself all the power of reason, it makes the
dumb and senseless material tiesh sensible, by
participation with it: especially when it fol-
lows, and the order of reason itself demands
that when the mind has put off the grossness of
the flesh with which it is now weighed down,
it will restore its intellectual powers better
than ever, and receive them in a purer and finer
condition than it lost them. Put so far did
the blessed Apostle recognize that what we

' The punctuation which Cassian here mentions only to reject,
and which is rightly cliaracterized by Alford as " worse than silly,"
is also mentioned by Theophylact. Com. \\\ loc.

2 S. John iii. 13.

3 Augustine (De Haeres. c. lix.) speaks of " Seleuciani " or "Her-
miani " as denying a visible Paradise, and a future resurrection ;
and a;^ain in c. Ixxxiii. he speaks of some Arabian heretics, as teach-
ing that the soul died and was dissolved (dissolvi) witli the body,
and that it would at the end of the world be revived and rise asain.
These were the heretics ol whom Eusebius speaks in his Eccl.
History Book VI. c. xxxvii., where he tells us that they were suc-
cessfully refuted by Origen. It is probably to this last error that
Cassian is here making allusion.

* C£. I Cor. xi. 7; Col. iii. 10.

say is true, that he actually wished to depart
from this flesh ; that by separation from it, he
might be able to be joined more earnestly to
the Lord; saying: "I desire to be dissolved
and to be with Christ, which is far better, for
while we are in the body we are absent from
the Lord: " and therefore "we are bold and
\ have our desire always to be absent from the
I body, and present with the Lord. Wherefore
I also we strive, whether absent or present, to be
pleasing to Him; "^ and he declares indeed
that the continuance of the soul which is in
the flesh is distance from the Lord, and ab-
sence from Christ, and trusts with entire faith
that its separation and departure from this
flesh involves presence with Christ. And
again still more clearly the same Apostle
speaks of this state of the souls as one that is
very full of life: ''Put ye are come to Mount
Sion, and the city of the living God, the
heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable
company of angels, and the church of the
first born, who are written in heaven, and the
spirits of just men made perfect. " ® Of which
spirits he speaks in another passage, "Further-
more we have had instructors of our flesh, and
we reverenced them : shall we not much more
be subject to the Father of spirits and live ? " ''

CHAPTER XV.

How we must meditate on God.

But the contemplation of God is gained in
a variety of ways. For we not only discover
God by admiring His incomprehensible es-
sence, a thing which still lies hid in the hope
of the promise, but we see Him through the
greatness of His creation, and the considera-
tion of His justice, and the aid of His daily
providence : when with pure minds we con-
i template what He has done with His saints
in every generation, when with trembling
heart we admire His power with which He
governs, directs, and rules all things, or the
vastness of His knowledge, and that eye of
His from which no secrets of the heart can
lie hid, when we consider the sand of the sea,
and the number of the waves measured by
Him and known to Him, when in our wonder
we think that the drops of rain, the days and
hours of the ages, and all things past and
future are present to His knowledge; when
we gaze in unbounded admiration on that
ineftable mercy of His, which with unwearied
patience endures countless sins which are

^ Phil. i. 23 ; 2 Cor. v. 6.
* Heb. xii. 22, 13.
' Ibid., ver. 9.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

303

every moment being committed under His
very eyes, or the call with which from no
antecedent merits of ours, but by the free
grace of His pity He receives us; or again
the numberless opportunities of salvation
which He grants to those whom He is going
to adopt — that He made us be born in such a
way as that from our very cradles His grace
and the knowledge of His law might be given
to us, that He Himself, overcoming our en-
emy in us simply for the pleasure of His
good will, rewards us with eternal bliss and
everlasting rewards, when lastly He undertook
the dispensation of His Incarnation for our
salvation, and extended the marvels of His
sacraments ^ to all nations. But there are
numberless other considerations of this sort,
which arise in our minds according to the
character of our life and the purity of our
heart, by which God is either seen by pure
eyes or embraced : which considerations cer-
tainly no one will preserve lastingly, if any-
thing of carnal affections still survives in him,
because "thou canst not," saith the Lord,
"see My face: for no man shall see Me and
live;"^ viz., to this world and to earthly
affections.

CHAPTER XVI.

A question on the changing character of the thoughts.

Germanus. How is it then, that even
against our will, aye and without our know-
ledge idle thoughts steal upon us so subtilely
and secretly that it is fearfully hard not
merely to drive them away, but even to grasp
and seize them? Can then a mind sometimes
be found free from them, and never attacked
by illusions of this kind?

CHAPTER XVII.

The answer what the mind can and what it cannot do with
regard to the state of its thoughts.

Moses. It is impossible for the mind not
to be approached by thoughts, but it is in the
power of every earnest man either to admit
them or to reject them. As then their rising
up does not entirely depend on ourselves, so
the rejection or admission of them lies in our
own power. But because we said that it is
impossible for the mind not to be approached
by thoughts, you must not lay everything to
the charge of the assault, or to those spirits

1 Mysteriorum.

2 Exod. xxxiii. 20.

who strive to instil them into us, else there
would not remain any free will in man, nor
would efforts for our improvement be. in our
power: but it is, I say, to a great extent in
our power to improve the character of our
thoughts and to let either holy and spiritual
thoughts or earthly ones grow up in our
hearts. For for this purpose frequent read-
ing and continual meditation on the Scriptures
is employed that from thence an opportunity
for spiritual recollection may be given to us,
therefore the frequent singing of Psalms is
used, that thence constant feelings of com-
punction may be provided, and earnest vigils
and fasts and prayers, that the mind may
be brought low and not mind earthly things,
but contemplate things celestial, for if these
things are, dropped and carelessness creeps on
us, the mind being hardened with the foulness
of sin is sure to incline in a carnal direction
and fall away.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Comparison of a soul and a millstone.

AxD this movement of the heart is not un-
suitably illustrated by the comparison of a mill
wheel, which the headlong rush of water whirls
round, with revolving impetus, and which can
never stop its work so long as it is driven
round by the action of the water: but it is in
the power of the man who directs it, to de-
cide whether he will have wheat or barley or
darnel ground by it. That certainly must be
crushed by it which is put into it by the man
who has charge of that business. So then
the mind also throiigh the trials of the present
life is driven about by the torrents of tempta-
tions pouring in upon it from all sides, and
cannot be free from the flow of thoughts :
but the character of the thoughts which it
should either throw off or admit for itself, it
will provide by the efforts of its own earnest-
ness and diligence: for if, as we said, we
constantly recur to meditation on the Holy
Scriptures and raise our memory towards the
recollection of spiritual things and the desire
of perfection and the hope of future bliss,
spiritual thoughts are sure to rise from this,
and cause the mind to dwell on those things
on which we have been meditating. But if
we are overcome by sloth or carelessness and
spend our time in idle gossip, or are entan-
gled in the cares of this world and unnecessary
anxieties, the result will be that a sort of spe-
cies of tares will spring up, and afford an in-
jurious occupation for our hearts, and as our

304

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

Lord and Saviour says, wherever the treasure
of our works or purpose may be, there also our
heart is sure to continue. ^

CHAPTER XIX.

Of tlie three origins of our thoughts.

Above all we ought at least to know that
there are three origins of our thoughts, i.e.,
from God, from the devil, and from ourselves.
They come from God when He vouchsafes
to visit us with the illumination of the Holy
Ghost, lifting us up to a higher state of pro-
gress, and where we have made but little pro-
gress, or through acting slothfully have been
overcome, He cha.stens us with most salutary
compunction, or when He discloses to us
heavenly mysteries, or turns our purpose and
will to better actions, as in the case where
the king Ahasuerus, being chastened by the
Lord, was prompted to ask for the books of
the annals, by which he was reminded of the
good deeds of Mordecai, and promoted him
to a position of the highest honour and at
once recalled his most cruel sentence con-
cerning the slaughter of the Jews." Or when
the prophet says: " I will hearken what the
Lord God will say in me. " ^ Another too tells
us "And an angel spoke, and said in me," * or
when the Son of God promised that He would
come with His Father, and make His abode
in us,^ and "It is not ye that speak, but the
Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." '^
And the chosen vessel: " Ye seek a proof of
Christ that speaketh in me."'' But a whole
range of thoughts springs from the devil,
when he endeavours to destroy us either by the
pleasures of sin or by secret attacks, in his
crafty wiles deceitfully showing us evil as
good, and transforming himself into an angel
of light to us :^ as when the evangelist tells
us: "And when supper was ended, when
the devil had already put it into the heart of
Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray"^ the
Lord : and again also " after the sop, " he says,
" Satan entered into him." ^° Peter also says
to Ananias: " Why hath Satan tempted thine
heart, to lie to the Holy Ghost? " ^^ And that
which we read in the gospel much earlier as
predicted by Ecclesiastes: "If the spirit of
the ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy
place." ^^ That too which, is said to God

against Ahab in the third book of Kings, in
the character of an unclean spirit : " I will go
forth and will be a lying spirit in the mouth
of all his prophets." ^^ But they arise from
ourselves, when in the course of nature we
recollect what we are doing or have done or
have heard. Of which the blessed David
speaks : " I thought upon the ancient days, and
had in mind the years from of old, and I medi-
tated, by night I exercised myself with my
heart, and searched out my spirit." " And
again: "the Lord knoweth the thoughts of
man, that they are vain : " ^^ and " the thoughts
of the righteous are judgments."^® In the
gospel too the Lord says to the Pharisees:
'"why do ye think evil in your hearts? " "

CHAPTER XX.

About discerning the thoughts, with an ilhistration from a
good money-changer.

We ought, then carefully to notice this
threefold order, and with a wise discretion to
analyse the thoughts which arise in our
hearts, tracking out their origin and cause
and author in the first instance, that we may
be able to consider how we ought to yield
ourselves to them in accordance with the
desert of those who suggest them, so that we
may, as the Lord's command bids us, become
good money-changers," whose highest skill and
whose training is to test what is perfectly pure
gold and what is commonly termed tested,'^'' or
what is not sufficiently purified in the fire; and
also with unerring skill not to be taken in by
a common brass denarius, if by being coloured
with bright gold it is made like some coin of
great value ; and not only shrewdly to recog-
nize coins stamped with the heads of usurpers,
but with a still shrewder skill to detect those
which have the image of the right king, but
are not properly made, and lastly to be care-
ful by the test of the balance to see that they
are not under proper weight. All of which

1 Cf. S. Matt. vi. 21.

2 Cf. Esth. vi. I sq.

3 Ps. Ixxxiv. (Ixxxv.) 9.
* Zech. i. 14.

^ Cf. S. John xiv. 23.
« S. Matt. X. 20.

' 2 Cor. xiii. 3.

^ Cf. 2 Cor. xi. 4.

" S. John xiii. 2.
'" Ibid., ver. 27.
" Acts V. 3.
" Eccl. X. 4-

" I Kincs xxii. 22.

» Ps. Ixxvi. (Ixxvii.) 6, 7. Scoheham (which Petschenig edits
from the MSS.) = scopebam,\\\\\A\ is found in tlie GalHcan Psalter
as in the old Latin in this passage. It is merely a Latinized form
of (TKOTreii'.

1'' Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 11.

1'"' Prov. xii. 5.

" S. Matt.ix. 4.

" Ut efficiamtir seamdiiin prceceptum Domini /•robabiles tra-
pezitoe. The saying to which Cassian here alludes, yiyeo^deTpane^LTai
SoKifj-oi/is not found anywhere in the Gospels, but "is the most
commonly quoted of all Apocrvphal sayings, and seems to be
genuine." Westcott, Introd. to the Gospels, p. 454- It is quoted
among others bv Origcn in Joann. xix., and Jerome Ep. 152. See
these and other reff. in Anger's Synopsis, p. 274! and cf. the note
of GazjEus here.

'» Obrizum. The word occurs in the Vulgate five times for pure
gold." See 2Chr. iii. 5; Job xxviii. 15; xxxi. 24; Isa. xiii. 12;
Dan. x.'s; and is akin to the Greek ofipviov. Cf. Pliny Nat. Hist,
xxxiii. c. 3, and Jerome De Nom. Hebr. s. v. Ophaz.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

305

things the gospel saying, which uses this
figure, shows us that we ought also to observe
spiritually; lirst that whatever has found an
entrance into -our hearts, and whatever doc-
trine has been received by us, should be most
carefully examined to see whether it has been
purified by the divine and heavenly fire of the
Holy Ghost, or whether it belongs to Jewish
superstition, or whether it comes from the
pride of a worldly philosophy and only exter-
nally makes a show of religion. x\nd this we
can do, if we carry out the Apostle's advice,
" Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits
whether they are of God. " ^ I3ut by this kind
those men also are deceived, who after having
been professed as monks are enticed by the
grace of style, and certain doctrines of phi-
losophers, which at the first blush, owing to
some pious meanings not out of harmony with
religion, deceive as with the glitter of gold
their hearers, whom they have superficially
attracted, but render them poor and miserable
for ever, like men deceived by false money
made of copper: either bringing them back
to the bustle of this world, or enticing them
into the errors of heretics, and bombastic con-
ceits: a thing which we read of as happening
to Achan in the book of Joshua the son of
Nun,- when he coveted a golden weight from
the camp of the Philistines, and stole it, and
was smitten with a curse and condemned to
eternal death. In the second place we should
be careful to see that no wrong interpretation
fixed on to the pure gold of Scripture deceives
us as to the value of the metal : by which means
the devil in his craft tried to impose upon our j
Lord and Saviour as if He was a mere man,
when by his malevolent interpretation he per-
verted what ought to be understood generally
of all good men, and tried to fasten it spe-
cially on to Him, who had no need of the care
of the angels: saying, "For He shall give
His angels charge concerning Thee, to keep
Thee in all Thy ways: and in their hands they 1
shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou
dash Thy foot against a stone," ^ by a skilful
assumption on his part giving a turn to the
precious sayings of Scripture and twisting
them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite
of their true meaning, so as to offer to us the
image and face of an usurper under cover of
the gold colour which may deceive us. Or 1
whether he tries to cheat us with counterfeits, '
for instance by urging that some work of piety
should be taken up which as it does come
from the true minds of the fathers, leads under
the form of virtue to vice ; and, deceiving us

1 I John iv. I.

2 Cf. Josh. vii.

3 S. Matt. iv. 6; Ps. xc. ii, 12.

either by immoderate or impossible fasts, or
by too long vigils, or inordinate prayers, or
unsuitable reading, brings us to a bad end.
Or, when he persuades us to give ourselves up
to mixing in the affairs of others, and to pious
visits, by which he may drive us away from
the spiritual cloisters of the monastery, and
the secrecy of its friendly peaceful ness, and
suggests that we take on our shoulders the
anxieties and cares of religious women who
are in want, that when a monk is inextricably
entangled in snares of this sort he may dis-
tract him with most injurious occupations and
cares. Or else when he incites a man to desire
the holy office of the clergy under the pretext
of edifying many people, and the love of
spiritual gain, by which to draw us away from
the humility and strictness of our life. All
of which things, although they are opposed
to our salvation and to our profession, yet
when covered with a sort of veil of compassion
and religion, easily deceive those who are
lacking in skill and care. For they imitate
the coins of the true king, because they seem
at first full of piety, but are not stamped by
those who have the right to coin, i.e., the ap-
proved Catholic fathers, nor do they proceed
from the head public office for receiving
them, but are made by stealth and by the
fraud of the devil, and palmed off upon the
unskilful and ignorant not without serious
harm. And even although they seem to be
useful and needful at first, yet if afterwards
they begin to interfere with the soundness of
our profession, and as it were to weaken in
some sense the whole body of our purpose, it
is well that they should be cut off and cast
away from us like a member which may be
necessary, but yet offends us and which seems
to perform the office of the right hand or
foot. For it is better, without one member
of a command, i.e., its working or result, to
continue safe and sound in other parts, and
to enter as v/eak into the kingdom of heaven
rather than with the whole mass of commands
to fall into some error which by an evil cus-
tom separates vis from our strict rule and the
system purposed and entered upon, and leads
to such loss, that it will never outweigh the
harm that will follow, but will cause all our
past fruits and the whole body of our work to
be burnt in hell fire.* Of which kind of illu-
sions it is well said in the Proverbs: " There
are ways which seem to be right to a man, but
their latter end will come into the depths of
hell, "^ and again "An evil man is harmful
when he attaches himself to a good man,"' ^

i Cf. S. Matt, xviii. 8.

5 Prov xvi. 25 (LXX.).

6 Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.).

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

i. e. , the devil deceives when he is covered with
an appearance of sanctity: ''but he hates the
sound of the watchman,"^ i.e., the power of
discretion which comes from the words and
warnings of the fathers.

CHAPTER XXI.

Of the illusion of Abbot John.

In this manner we have heard that Abbot
John who lived at Lycon,^was recently de-
ceived. For when his body was exhausted
and failing as he had put off taking food
during a fast of two days, on the third
day while he was on his way to take some
refreshment the devil came in the shape of a
filthy Ethiopian, and falling at his feet, cried
"Pardon me because I appointed this labour
for you. ' ' And so that great man, who was
so perfect in the matter of discretion, under-
stood that under pretence of an abstinence
practised unsuitably, he was deceived by the
craft of the devil, and engaged in a fast of
such a character as to affect his worn out body
with a weariness that was unnecessary, in-
deed that was harmful to the spirit; as he was
deceived by a counterfeit coin, and, while he
paid respect to the image of the true king upon
it, was not sufficiently alive to the question
whether it was rightly cut and stamped. But
the last duty of this "good money-changer,"
which, as we mentioned before, concerns the
examination of the weight, will be fulfilled, if
whenever our thoughts suggest that anything
is to be done, we scrupulously think it over,
and, laying it in the scales of our breast, weigh
it with the most exact balance, whether it be
full of good for all, or heavy with the fear of
God: or entire and sound in meaning; or
whether it be light with human display or
some conceit of novelty, or whether the pride
of foolish vain glory has not diminished or
lessened the weight of its merit. And so
straightway weighing them in the public ba-
lance, i.e., testing them by the acts and proofs
of the Apostles and Prophets let us hold them
as it were entire and perfect and of full weight,
or else with all care and diligence reject them
as imperfect and counterfeit, and of insuffi-
cient weight.

CHAPTER XXII.

Of the fourfold method of discrimination.

This power of discriminating will then be
necessary for us in the fourfold manner of

1 Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.').

2 On this John of Lycon or Lycopolis see the note on Inst. IV.
xxiii.

which we have spoken; viz., first that the ma-
terial does not escape our notice whether it
be of true or of painted gold : secondly, that
those thoughts which falsely -promise works
of religion should be rejected by us as forged
and counterfeit coins, as they are those which
are not rightly stamped, and which bear an
untrue image of the king ; and that we may
be able in the same way to detect those which
in the case of the precious gold of Scripture,
by means of a false and heretical meaning,
show the image not of the true king but of
an usurper ; and that we refuse those whose
weight and value the rust of vanity has depreci-
ated and not allowed to pass in the scales of
the fathers, as coins that are too light, and are
false and weigh too little; so that we may not
incur that which we are warned by the Lord's
command to avoid with all our power, and
lose the value and reward of all our labour.
" Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the
earth, where rust and moth corrupt and where
thieves break through and steal." ^ For
whenever we do anything with a view to
human glory we know that we are, as the
Lord says, laying up for ourselves treasure on
earth, and that consequently being as it were
hidden in the ground and buried in the earth
it must be destroyed by sundry demons or
consumed by the biting rust of vain glory, or
devoured by the moths of pride so as to con-
tribute nothing to the use and profits of the
man who has hidden it. We should then
constantly search all the inner chambers of
our hearts, and trace out the footsteps of
whatever enters into them with the closest in-
vestigation lest haply some beast, if I may
say so, relating to the understanding, either
lion or dragon, passing through has furtively
left the dangerous marks of his track, which
will show to others the way of access into the
secret recesses of the heart, owing to a care-
lessness about our thoughts. And so daily and
hourly turning up the ground of our heart with
the gospel plough, i.e., the constant recollec-
tion of the Lord's cross, we shall manage to
stamp out or extirpate from our hearts the lairs
of noxious beasts and the lurking places of
poisonous serpents.

CHAPTER XXIIL

Of the discourse of the te.icher in regard to the merits of his

hearers.

At this the old man seeing that we were
astonished, and inflamed at the words of his
discourse with an insatiable desire, stopped

3 S. Matt. vi. 19.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

Z07

his speech for a little in consequence of our
admiration and earnestness, and presently
added: Since your zeal, my sons, has led
to so long a discussion, and a sort of fire
supplies keener zest to our conference in
proportion to your earnestness, as from this
very thing I can clearly see that you are
truly thirsting after teaching about perfection,
I want still to say something to you on the
excellence of discrimination and grace which
rules and holds the field among all virtues,
and not merely to prove its value and use-
fulness by daily instances of it, but also
from former deliberations and opinions of the
fathers. For I remember that frequently
when men were asking me with sighs and
tears for a discourse of this kind, and I my-
self was anxious to give them some teaching
I could not possibly manage it, and not merely
my thoughts but even my very power of speech
failed me so that I could not find how to send
them away with even some slight consolation.
And by these signs we clearly see that the
grace of the Lord inspires the speakers with
words according to the deserts and zeal of the
hearers. And because the very short night
which is before us does not allow me to finish
the discourse, let us the rather give it up to
bodily rest, in which the whole of it will have
to be spent, if a reasonable portion is refused,
and let us reserve the complete scheme of the
discourse for unbroken consideration on a
future day or night. For it is right for the
best counsellors on discretion to show the
diligence of their minds in the first place in
this, and to prove whether they are or can be
possessors of it by this evidence and patience,
so that in treating of that virtue which is the
mother of moderation they may by no means
fall into the vice which is opposite to it; viz.,

that of undue length, by their actions and
deeds destroying the force of the system and
nature which they recommend in word. In
regard then to this most excellent discretion,
on which we still propose to inquire, so far
as the Lord gives us power, it may in the first
instance be a good thing, when we are dis-
puting about its excellence and the modera-
tion which we know exists in it as the first of
virtues, not to allow ourselves to exceed the
due limit of the discussion and of our time.

And so with this the blessed Moses put a
stop to our talk, and urged us, eager though
we were and hanging on his lips, to go off to
bed for a little, advising us to lie down on the
same mats on which we were sitting, and to
put our bundles ^ under our heads instead of
pillows, as these being tied evenly to thicker
leaves of papyrus collected in long and slen-
der bundles, six feet apart, at one time pro-
vide the brethren when sitting at service with
a very low seat instead of a footstool, at
another time being put under their necks
when they go to bed furnish a support for
their heads, that is not too hard, but comfort-
able and just right. For which uses of the
monks these things are considered especially
fit and suitable not only because they are
somewhat soft, and prepared at little cost of
money and labour, as the papyrus grows
everywhere along the banks of the Nile, but
also because they are of a convenient stuff
and light enough to be removed or fetched as
need may require. And so at last at the
bidding of the old man we settled ourselves
down to sleep in deep stillness, both excited
with delight at the conference we had held,
and also buoyed up with hope of the prom-
ised discussion.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

CHAPTER L

Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion.

And so when we had enjoyed our morning
sleep, when to our delight the dawn of light
again shone upon us, and we had begun to
ask once more for his promised talk, the
blessed Moses thus began : As I see you in-
flamed with such an eager desire, that I do not
believe that that very short interval of quiet
which I wanted to subtract from our spiritual
conference and devote to bodily rest, has been
of any use for the repose of your bodies, on

me too a greater anxiety presses when I take
note of your zeal. For I must give the greater
care and devotion in paying my debt, in pro-
portion as I see that you ask for it the more
earnestly, according to that saying: "When
thou sittest to eat with a ruler consider dili-
gently what is put before thee, and put forth
thine hand, knowing that thou oughtest to pre-
pare such things. ' ' ^ Wherefore as we are going

1 Embrimium. The word is possibly of Egj'ptian origin . It occurs
also in Cyril in Vita S. Euthytnii Abbati, n. go, and in Apophthegm,
Patnim num. 7, and is possibly the same word as " Ebymium," which
occurs in the Rule of t'.ichoniius, c. xiv. See Ducange, sub voce.

- Prov. xxiii. i, 2 (LXX.).

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

to speak of the excellent quality of discretion
and the virtue of it, on which subject our dis-
course of last night had entered at the ter-
mination of our discussion, we think it
desirable first to establish its excellence by
the opinions of the fathers, that when it has
been shown what our predecessors thought
and said about it, then we may bring forward
some ancient and modern shipwrecks and
mischances of various people, who were
destroyed and hopelessly ruined because
they paid but little attention to it, and then
as well as we can we must treat of its advan-
tages and uses: after a discussion of v>'hichwe
shall know better how we ought to seek after
it and practise it, by the consideration of the
importance of its value and grace. For it is
no ordinary virtue nor one which can be freely
gained by merely human efforts, unless they
are aided by the Divine blessing, for we read
that this is also reckoned among the noblest
gifts of the Spirit by the Apostle: "To one is
given by the Spirit the word of wisdom, to
another the word of knowledge by the same
Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit,
to another the gift of healing by the same
Spirit," and shortly after, " to another the dis-
cerning of spirits." Then after the complete
catalogue of spiritual gifts he subjoins: ''But
all these worketh one and the selfsame
Spirit, dividing to every man severally as He
will." ^ You see then that the gift of discre-
tion is no earthly thing and no slight matter,
but the greatest prize of divine grace. And
unless a monk has pursued it with all zeal,
and secured a power of discerning with unerr-
ing judgment the spirits that rise up in him,
he is sure to go wrong, as if in the darkness
of night and dense blackness, and not merely
to fall down dangerous pits and precipices,
but also to make frequent mistakes in matters
that are plain and straightforward.

CHAPTER II.

What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the
blessed Antony on this subject.

And so I remember that while I was still
a boy, in the region of Thebaid, where the
blessed Antony lived,^ the elders came to
him to inquire about perfection: and though
the conference lasted from evening till morn-
ing, the greatest part of the night was taken
up with this question. For it was discussed at
great length what virtue or observance could
preserve a monk always unharmed by the
snares and deceits of the devil, and carry him

1 I Cor. xii. S-ii. 2 Cf. the note on the Institutes, V. iv.

\ forward on a sure and right path, and with
firm step to the heights of perfection. And
when each one gave his opinion according
to the bent of his own mind, and some made
it consist in zeal in fasting and vigils, be-
cause a soul that has been brought low by
these, and so obtained purity of heart and
body will be the more easily united to God,
others in despising all things, as, if the mind
were utterly deprived of them, it w'ould come
the more freely to God, as if henceforth there
were no snares to entangle it: others thought
that withdrawal from the world was the
thing needful, i.e., solitude and the secrecy
of the hermit's life; living in which a man
may more readily commune with God, and
cling more especially to Him; others laid
down that the duties of charity, i.e., of kind-
ness should be practised, because the Lord in
the gospel promised more especially to give
the kingdom to these; when He said "Come
ye blessed of My Father, inherit the king-
dom prepared for you from the foundation of
the world. For I was an hungred and ye
gave Me to eat, I was thirsty and ye gave Me
to drink, etc. : " ^ and when in this fashion they
declared that by means of different virtues a
more certain approach to God could be se-
cured, and the greater part of the night had
been spent in this discussion, then at last the
blessed Antony spoke and said: All these
things which you have mentioned are indeed
needful, and helpful to those who are thirsting
for God, and desirous to approach Him. But
countless accidents and the experience of
many people will not allow us to make the
most important of gifts consist in them. For
often when men are most strict in fasting or in
vigils, and nobly withdraw into solitude, and
aim at depriving themselves of all their goods
so absolutely that they do not suffer even a
day's allowance of food or a single penny to
remain to them, and when they fulfil all the
duties of kindness with the utmost devotion,
yet still we have seen them suddenly de-
ceived, so that they could not bring the work
they had entered upon to a suitable close, but
brought their exalted fervour and praise-
worthy manner of life to a terrible end.
Wherefore we shall be able clearly to recog-
nize what it is which mainly leads to God, if
we trace out with greater care the reason of
their downfall and deception. For when the
works of the above mentioned virtues were
abounding in them, discretion alone was
wanting, and allowed them not to continue
even to the end. Nor can any other reason
for their falling off be discovered except that

3 S. Matt. XXV. 36, 35.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

309

as they were not sufficiently instructed by
their e'lders they could not obtain judgment
and discretion, which passing by excess on
either side, teaches a monk always to walk
along the royal road, and does not suffer him
to be'^puffed up on the right hand of virtue, i. e. ,
from excess of zeal to transgress the bounds
of due moderation in foolish presumption,
nor allows him to be enamoured of slackness
and turn aside to the vices on the left hand,
i.e., under pretext of controlling the body, to
grow slack with the opposite spirit of luke-
warmness. For this is discretion, which is
termed in the gospel the "eye," "and light of
the body," according to the Saviour's saying:
''The light of thy body is thine eye: but if
thine eye be single, thy whole body will be
full of light, but if thine eye be evil, thy
whole body will be full of darkness:"^ be-
cause as it'discerns all the thoughts and ac-
tions of men, it sees and overlooks all things
which should be done. But if in any man
this is "evil," i.e., not fortified by sound
judgment and knowledge, or deceived by
sonie error and presumption, it will make our
whole body "full of darkness," i.e., it_will
darken all our mental vision and our actions,
as they will be involved in the darkness of
vices and the gloom of disturbances. For,
says He, "if the light which is in thee be
darkness, how great will that darkness be! " '
For no one can doubt that when the judgment
of our heart goes wrong, and is overwhelmed
by the night of ignorance, our thoughts and
deeds, which are the result of deliberation
and discretion, must be involved in the dark-
ness of still greater sins.

CHAPTER HI.

Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived
through lack of discretion.

Lastly, the man who in the judgment of
God was the first to be worthy of the kingdom
of His people Israel, because he was lacking in
this "eye " of discretion, was, as if his whole
body were full of darkness, actually cast
down from the kingdom while, being deceived
by the darkness of this " light," and in error,
he imagined that his own offerings were more
acceptable to God than obedience to the
command of Samuel, and met with an occa-
sion of falling in that very matter in which
he had hoped to propitiate the Divine Ma-
jesty. ^ And ignorance, I say, of this discretion
led Ahab the king of Israel after a triumph and

splendid victory which had been granted to
him by the favour of God to fancy that mercy
on his part was better than the stern execution
of the divine command, and, as it seemed to
Ijim, a cruel rule : and moved by this consid-
eration, while he desired to temper a bloody
victory with mercy, he was on account of his
indiscriminating clemency rendered full of
darkness in his whole body, and condemned
irreversibly to death.*

CHAPTER IV.

What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture.

Such is discretion, which is not only the
' ' light of the body, ' ' but also called the sun by
the Apostle, as it said "Let not the sun go
down upon your wrath. "^ It is also called
the guidance of our life: as it said "Those
who have no guidance, fall like leaves." ^ _ It
is most truly named counsel, without which
the authority of Scripture allows us to do
nothing, so that we are not even permitted to
take that spiritual "wine which maketh glad
the heart of man" ' without its regulating con-
trol : as it is said "Do everything with counsel,
drink thy wine with counsel, " * and again " like
a city that has its walls destroyed and is not
fenced in, so is a man who does anything with-
out counsel. ' ' ^ And how injurious the absence
of this is to a monk, the illustration and
figure in the passage quoted shows, by com-
paring it to a city that is destroyed and without
walls. Herein lies wisdom, herein lies in-
telligence and understanding without which
our inward house cannot be built, nor can
spiritual riches be gathered together, as it is
said: "A house is built with wisdom, and
again it is set up with intelligence. With un-
derstanding the storehouses are filled with
all precious riches .and good things. ' ' " This
I say is "solid food," which can only be taken
by those who are full grown and strong, as it
is said: " But solid food is for full grown men,
who by reason of use have their senses exer-
cised to discern good and evil."" And it
is shown to be useful and necessary for us,
only in so far as it is in accordance with^ the
word of God and its powers, as is said "For
the word of God is quick and powerful, and
sharper than any two-edged sword, and reach-
ing even to the dividing asunder of soul and
sptrit, of both joints and marrow, and a dis-

1 S. Matt. vi. 22, 23. 2 s. Matt. vi. 22, 23. ^ cf. i Sam. xv.

i Cf. I Kings XX.

5 Eph. iv. 26.

6 Prov. xi. i4(LXX.).

7 Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15-

8 Prov. xxxi. 3 CLXX.).

9 Prov. xxv. 2S (LXX.).
10 Prov. xxiv. 3, 4 (LXX.).
n Heb. V. 14.

3IO

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

cerner of the thoughts and intents of the
heart: " ^ and by this it is clearly shown that
no virtue can possibly be perfectly acquired or
continue without the grace of discretion. And
so by the judgment of the blessed Antony a^
well as of all others it has been laid down that
it is discretion which leads a fearless monk by
fixed stages to God, and preserves the virtues
mentioned above continually intact, by means
of which one may ascend with less weariness
to the extreme summit of perfection, and
without which even those who toil most will-
ingly cannot reach the heights of perfection.
For discretion is the mother of all virtues, as
well as their guardian and regulator.

CHAPTER V.

Of the death of the old man Heron.

And to support this judgment delivered
of old by the blessed Antony and the other
fathers by a modern instance, as we promised
to do, remember what you lately saw happen
before your very eyes, I mean, how the old
man Heron, ^ only a very few days ago was
cast down by an illusion of the devil from
the heights to the depths, a man whom we
remember to have lived for fifty years in this
desert and to have preserved a strict conti-
nence with especial severity, and who aimed at
the secrecy of solitude with marvellous fer-
vour beyond all those who dwell here. By
what device then or by what method was he
deluded by the deceiver after so many labours,
and falling by a most grievous downfall struck
with profound grief all those who live in this
desert? Was it not because, having too little
of the virtue of discretion he preferred to
be guided by his own judgment rather than
to obey the counsels and conference of the
brethren and the regulations of the elders.''
Since he ever practised incessant abstinence
and fasting with such severity, and persisted
in the secrecy of solitude and a monastic cell
so constantly that not even the observance of
the Easter festival could ever persuade him
to join in the feast with the brethren: when
in accordance with the annual observance, all
the brethren remained in the church and he
alone would not join them for fear lest he
might seem to relax in some degree from his
purpose by taking only a little pulse. And
deceived by this presumption he received with
the utmost reverence an angel of Satan as
an angel of light and with blind slavishness

1 Heb. iv. 12.

- Gaz;Eus thinks tliat this is a different person from the man of
the same name mentioned by Palladius, Hist. Laus. c. xxxii.

obeyed his commands and cast himself down
a well, so deep that the eye could not pierce
I its depths, nothing doubting of the promise of
! the angel who had assured him that the merits
of his virtues and labours were such that he
could not possibly run any risk. And that he
, might prove the truth of this most certainly
by experimenting on his own safety, in the
dead of night he was deluded enough to cast
I himself into the above mentioned well, to
. prove indeed the great merit of his virtue if
j he should come out thence unhurt. And when
by great efforts on the part of the brethren he
had been got out already almost dead, on the
third day afterward he expired, and what was
still worse, persisted in his obstinate delusion
so that not even the experience of his death
could persuade him that he had been deceived
by the craft of devils. A\'herefore in spite of
the merits of his great labours and the number
of years which he had spent in the desert
those who with compassion and the greatest
kindness pitied his end, could hardly obtain
from Abbot Paphnutius ^ that he should not be
reckoned among suicides, and be deemed un-
worthy of the memorial and oblation for those
at rest.*

CHAPTER VI.

Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion.

What shall I say of those two brethren who
lived beyond that desert of the Thebaiid where
once the blessed Antony dwelt, and, not being
sufficiently influenced by careful discrimina-
•tion, when they were going through the vast
and extended waste determined not to take
any food with them, except such as the Lord
Himself might provide for them. And when
as they wandered through the deserts and were
already fainting from hunger they were spied
at a distance by the Mazices ^ (a race which
is even more savage and ferocious than almost
all wild tribes, for they are not driven to shed
blood, as other tribes are, from desire of spoil
but from simple ferocity of mind), and when
these acting contrary to their natural ferocity,
met them with bread, one of the two as dis-
cretion came to his aid, received it with de-
light and thankfulness as if it were offered
to him by the Lord, thinking that the food

' On Paphnutius see the note on III. i.

4 Pausaiitium, i.e., tliose at rest. The word is used for the
departed in a simitar way in the 6th Canon of the Council of Au-
relia (Orleans) a.d. 511. " Quando recitantur pausamium nomina."
And tlie phrase " Pausat in pace " is occasionally found in sepul-
chral inscriptions. Inscr. Boldetti Cimeter. p. 399; luscr. Ma£E.
Gall. Antiq. p. 55.

■■' Mazices : a people of Mauritania Caesariensis, who joined in
the revolt of Firmus, but submitted to Theodosius in 373. Seo
Ammianus Marcellinus XXIX. v. § 17.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

311

had been divinely provided for him, and that
it was God's doing that those who always de-
ligiated in bloodshed had offered the staff of
life to men who were already fainting and
dying; but the other refused the food because
it was offered to him by men and died of star-
vation. And though this sprang in the first
instance from a persuasion that was blame-
worthy yet one of them by the help of discre-
tion got the better of the idea which he had
rashly and carelessly conceived, but the oth^r
persisting in his obstinate folly, and being
utterly lacking in discretion, brought upon
himself that death which the Lord would have
averted, as he would not believe that it was
owing to a Divine impulse that the fierce
barbarians forgot their natural ferocity and
offered them bread instead of a sword.

CHAPTER VII.

Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion.

Why also should I speak of one (whose
name we had rather not mention as he is still
alive), who for a long while received a devil
in the brightness of an angelic form, and was
often deceived by countless revelations from
him and believed that he was a messenger of
righteousness: for when these were granted,
every night he provided a light in his cell
without the need of any lamp. At last he
was ordered by the devil to offer up to God
his own son who was living with him in the
monastery, in order that his merits might by
this sacrifice be made equal to those of the
patriarch Abraham. And he was so far se-
duced-by his persuasion that he would really
have committed the murder unless his son
had seen him getting ready the knife and
sharpening it with unusual care, and looking
for the chains witli which he meant to tie him
up for the sacrifice when he was going to offer
him up; and had fled away in terror with a
presentiment of the coming crime.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia.

It is a long business too to tell the story of
the deception of that monk of Mesopotamia,
who observed an abstinence that could be
imitated by but few in that country, which he
had practised for many years concealed in his
cell, and at last was so deceived by revela-
tions and dreams that came from the devil
that after so many labours and good deeds, in

which he had surpassed all those who dwelt
in the same parts, he actually relapsed mis-
erably into Judaism and circumcision of the
flesh. For when the devil by accustoming
him to visions through the wish to entice him
to believe a falsehood in the end, had like a
messenger of truth revealed to him for a long
while what was perfectly true, at length he
showed him Christian folk together with the
leaders of our religion and creed ; viz. Apostles
and Martyrs, in darkness and filth, and foul
and disfigured with all squalor, and on the
other hand the Jewish people with Moses, the
patriarchs and prophets, dancing with all joy
and shining with dazzling light; and so per-
suaded him that if he wanted to share their
reward and bliss, he must at once submit to
circumcision. And so none of these would
have been so miserably deceived, if they had
endeavoured tc obtain a power of discretion.
Thus the mischances and trials of many show
how dangerous it is to be ■without the grace
of discretion.

CHAPTER IX.

A question about the acquirement of true discretion.

To this Germanus: It has been fully and
completely shown both by recent instances
and by the decisions of the ancients how dis-
cretion is in some sense the fountain head and
the root of all virtues. We want then to
learn how it ought to be gained, or how we
can tell whether it is genuine and from God,
or whether it is spurious and from the devil :
so that (to use the figure of that gospel parable
which vou discussed on a former occasion, in
which we are bidden to become good money
changers ^) we may be able to see the figure
of the true king stamped on the coin and to de-
tect what is not stamped on coin that is current,
and that, as you said in yesterday's talk using
an ordinary expression, we may reject it as
counterfeit, under the teaching of that skill
which you treated of with sufficient fulness and
detail, and showed ought to belong to the
man who is spiritually a good money changer
of the gospel. For of what good will it be to
have recognized the value of that virtue and
grace if we do not know how to seek for it
and to gain it?

CHAPTER X.

The answer how true discretion may be gained.

Then Moses: True discretion, said he, is
only secured by true humility. And of this

1 Cf. I. XX.

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humility the first proof is given by reserving
everything (not only what you do but also what
you think), for the scrutiny of the elders, so
as not to trust at all in your own judgment
but to acquiesce in their decisions in all
points, and to acknowledge what ought to be
considered good or bad by their traditions.-'
And this habit will not only teach a young
man to walk in the right path through the
true way of discretion, but will also keep him
unhurt by all the crafts and deceits of the
enemy. For a man cannot possibly be de-
ceived, who lives not by his own judgment but
according to the example of the elders, nor
will our crafty foe be able to abuse the igno-
rance of one who is not accustomed from
false modesty to conceal all the thoughts
which rise in his heart, but either checks
them or suffers them to remain, in accordance
with the ripened judgment of the elders. For
a wrong thought is enfeebled at the moment
that it is discovered: and even before the
sentence of discretion has been given, the
foul serpent is by the power of confession
dragged out, so to speak, from his dark
under-ground cavern, and in some sense shown
up and sent away in disgrace. For evil
thoughts will hold sway in us just so long as
they are hidden in the heart: and that you
may gather still more effectually the power of
this judgment I will tell you what Abbot
Serapion did,^ and what he used often to tell
to the younger brethren for their edification.

CHAPTER XI.

The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that
are exposed to others, and also on the danger of self-con-
fidence.

While, said he, I was still a lad, and stop-
ping with Abbot Theonas,'' this habit was
forced upon me by the assaults of the enemy,
that after I had supped with the old man at
the ninth hour, I used every day secretly to
hide a biscuit in my dress, which I would eat
on the sly later on without his knowing it.
And though I was constantly guilty of the
theft with the consent of my will, and the want
of restraint that springs from desire that has
grown inveterate, yet when my unlawful de-
sire was gratified I would come to myself and
torment myself over the theft committed in a
way that overbalanced the pleasure 1 had en-
joyed in the eating. And when I was forced
not without grief of heart to fulfil day after

* Cf. what is said on this subject in the Institutes, Book IV. c. ix.
^ Probably the author of Conference V., where see the note on
i.
3 See the note on Conf. xxi. i.

day this most heavy task required of me, so
to speak, by Pharaoh's taskmasters, instead
of bricks, and could not escape from this cruel
tyranny, and yet was ashamed to disclose the
secret theft to the old man, it chanced by the
will of God that I was delivered from the yoke
of this voluntary captivity, when certain
brethren had sought the old man's cell with
the object of being instructed by him. And
when after supper the spiritual conference had
begun to be held, and the old man in answer
to the questions which they had propounded
was speaking about the sin of gluttony and
the dominion of secret thoughts, and showing
their nature and the awful power which they
have so long as they are kept secret, I was
overcome by the power of the discourse and
was conscience stricken and terrified, as I
thought that these things were mentioned by
him because the Lord had revealed to the old
man my bosom secrets ; and first I was moved
to secret sighs, and then my heart's compunc-
tion increased and I openly burst into sobs
and tears, and produced from the folds of my
dress which shared my theft and received it,
the biscuit which I had carried off in my bad
habit to eat on the sly; and I laid it in the
midst and lying on the ground and begging
for forgiveness confessed how I used to eat
one every day in secret, and with copious
tears implored them to intreat the Ford to
free me from this dreadful slavery. Then
the old man : " Have faith, my child," said he,
"Without any words of mine, your confession
frees you from this slavery. For you have
today triumphed over j^our victorious adver-
sary, by laying him low by your confession in
a manner whicii more than makes up for the
way in which you were overthrown by him
through your former silence, as when, never
confuting him with your own answer or that
of another, you had allowed him to lord it
over }'^ou, according to that saying of Solo-
mon's : 'Because sentence is not speedily
pronounced against the evil, the heart of the
children of men is full within them to do
evil: '* and therefore after this exposure of
him that evil spirit will no longer be able
to vex you, nor will that foul serpent hence-
forth make his lurking place in you, as he has
been dragged out into light from the dark-
ness by your life-giving confession.'" The old
man had not finishsd speaking when lo! a
burning lamp proceeding from the folds of
my dress filled the cell with a sulphureous
smell so that the pungency of the odour scarcely
allowed us to stav there: and the old man
resuming his admonition said Lo! the Lord

« Eccl. viii. II (LXX.).

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

t T ->

has visibly confirmed to you the truth of
my words, so that you can see with your eyes
how he who was the author of His Passion
has been driven out from your lieart by your
life-giving confession, and know that the
enemy who has -been exposed will certainly
no longer find a home in you, as his expulsion
is made manifest. And so, as the old man
declared, said he, the sway of that diabolical
tyranny over me has been destroyed by the
power of this confession and stilled for ever,
so that the enemy has never even tried to
force upon me any more the recollection of
this desire, nor have I ever felt myself seized
with the passion of that furtive longing. And
this meaning we see is neatly expressed in
a figure in Ecclesiastes. "If" says he "a
serpent bite without hissing there is no suffi-
ciency for the charmer,"^ showing that the
bite of a serpent in silence is dangerous, i.e.,
if a suggestion or thought springing from the
devil is not by means of confession shown to
some charmer, I mean some spiritually minded
person who knows how to heal the wound at
once by charms from the Scripture, and to
extract the deadly poison of the serpent from
the heart, it will be impossible to help the
sufferer who is already in danger and must
soon die. In this way therefore we shall
easily arrive at the knowledge of true dis-
cretion, so as by following the steps of the
Elders never to do anything novel nor to
decide anything by or on our own responsibil-
ity, but to walk in all things as we are taught
by their tradition and upright life. And the
man who is strengthened by this system will
not only arrive at the perfect method of dis-
cretion, but also will remain perfectly safe
from all the wiles of the enemy: for by no
other fault does the devil drag down a monk
so precipitately and lead him away to death,
as when he persuades him to despise the
counsel of the Elders and to rely on his own
opinion and judgment: for if all the arts and
contrivances discovered by man's ingenuity
and those which are only useful for the con-
veniences of this temporary life, though they
can be felt with the hand and seen with
the eye, can yet not be understood by anyone
without lessons from a teacher, how foolish
it is to fancy that there is no need of an in-
structor in this one alone which is invisible
and secret and can only be seen by the purest
heart, a mistake in which brings about no mere
temporary loss or one that can easily be re-
paired, but the destruction of the soul and
ev'erlasting death : for it is concerned with a
daily and nightly conflict against no visible

1 Eccl. X. II (LXX.).

foes, but invisible and cruel ones, and a
spiritual combat not against one or two only,
but against countless hosts, failure in which is
the more dangerous to all, in proportion as
the foe is the fiercer and the attack the more
secret. And therefore we should always fol-
low the footsteps of the Elders with the utmost
care, and bring to them everything which
rises in our hearts, by removing the veil of
shame.

CHAPTER XII.

A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal

our thoughts to the elders.

Germanus: The ground of that hurtful
modesty, through which we endeavour to hide
bad thoughts, is especially owing to this
reason; viz., that we have heard of a superior
of the Elders in the region of Syria, as it was
believed, who, when one of the brethren had
laid bare his thoughts to him in a genuine
confession, was afterwards extremely indig-
nant and severely chid him for them. Whence
it results that while we press them upon our-
selves and are ashamed to make them known
to the Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies
that would heal them.

CHAPTER XIII.

The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the
danger of one without contrition.

Moses : Just as all young men are not alike
in fervour of spirit nor equally instructed in
learning and good morals, so too we cannot find
that all old men are equally perfect and ex-
cellent. For the true riches of old men are
not to be measured by grey hairs but by their
diligence in youth and the rewards of their past
labours. " For, " says one, "the things that
thou hast not gathered in thy youth, how shalt
thou find them in thy old age ? " " For ven-
erable old age is not that of longtime, nor
counted by the number of years : but the un-
derstanding of a man is grey hairs, and a
spotless life is old age." 2 And therefore we
are not to follow in the steps or embrace
the traditions and advice of every old man
whose head is covered with grey hairs, and
whose age is his sole claim to respect, but
only of those whom we find to have distin-
guished themselves in youth in an approved
and praiseworthy manner, and to have been
trained up not on self-assurance but on the
traditions of the Elders. For there are some,

- Ecclus. XXV. 5 ; Wisdom iv. 8, 9.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

and unhappily they form the majority, who
pass their old age in a lukewarmness which
they contracted in youth, and in sloth, and
so obtain authority not from the ripeness of
their character but simply from the number
of their years. Against whom that reproof of
the Lord is specially aimed by the prophet:
" Strangers have devoured his strength and
he lAew it not: yea, grey hairs also are
spread about upon him, and he is ignorant
of it. " ^ These men, I say, are not pointed
out as examples to youth from the upright-
ness of their lives, nor from the strictness of
their profession, which would be worthy of
praise and imitation, but simply from the
number of their years; and so the subtle
enemy uses their grey hairs to deceive the
younger men, by a wrongful appeal to their
authority, and endeavours in his cunning
craftiness to upset and deceive by their ex-
ample those who might have been urged into
the way of perfection by their advice or that
of others; and drags them down by means of
their teaching and practice either into a bane-
ful indifference, or into deadly despair. And
as I want to give you an instance of this, I
will tell you a fact which may supply us with
some wholesome teaching, without giving the
name of the actor, lest we might be guilty
of something of the same kind as the man
who published abroad the sins of the brother
which had been disclosed to him. When this
one, who was not the laziest of young men,
had gone to an old man, whom we know very
well, for the sake of the profit and health of
his soul, and had candidly confessed that he
was troubled by carnal appetites and the
spirit of fornication, fancying that he would
receive from the old man's words consolation
for his efforts, and a cure for the wounds
inflicted on him, the old man attacked him
with the bitterest reproaches, and called him
a miserable and disgraceful creature, and un-
worthy of the name of monk, while he could
be affected by a sin and lust of this character,
and instead of helping him so injured him by
his reproaches that he dismissed him from his
cell in a state of hopeless despair and deadly
despondency. And when he, oppressed with
such a sorrow, was plunged in deep thought,
no longer how to cure his passion, but how to
gratify his lust, the Abbot ApoUos,^ the most!
skilful of the Elders, met him, and seeing by
his looks-and gloominess his trouble and the

' Hos. vii. g.

2 Apollos or Apollonius was a most celebrated hermit of the
fourth century, who finally became the head of a monastery of five
hundred bretliren in the Thebaid. Some account of him is given by
Palladius (Hist. I.aus. c. Hi.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c. vii.).
Cf. also Sozomen III. xiv.; and VI. xx., whence we learn that his \
life was written by Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria. Cassian relates I
another story of him in XXIV. ix. I

violence of the assault which he was secretly
revolving in his heart, asked him the reason
of this upset; and when he could not possibly
answer the old man's gentle inquiry, the
latter perceived more and more clearly that
it was not without reason that he wanted to
hide in silence the cause of a gloom so deep
that he could not conceal it b} his looks, and
so began to ask him still more earnestly the
reasons for his hidden grief. And by this
he was forced to confess that he was on his
way to a village tp take a wife, and leave the
monastery and return to the world, since, as
the old man had told him, he could not be a
monk, if he was unable to control the desires
of the flesh and to cure his passion. And
then the old man smoothed him down with
kindly consolation, and told him that he him-
self was daily tried by the same pricks of
desire and lust, and that therefore he ought
not to give way to despair, nor be surprised
at the violence of the attack of which he
would get the better not so much by zealous
efforts, as by the mercy and grace of the Lord ;
and he begged him to put off his intention
just for one day, and having implored him to
return to his cell, went as fast as he could
to the monastery of the above mentioned old
man — and when he had drawn near to him
he stretched forth his hands and prayed with
tears, and said ''O Lord, who alone art the
righteous judge and unseen Physician of se-
cret strength and human weakness, turn the
assault from the young man upon the old
one, that he may learn to condescend to the
weakness of sufferers, and to sympathize even
in old age with the frailties of youth." And
when he had ended his prayer with tears, he
sees a filthy Ethiopian standing over against
his cell and aiming fiery darts at him, with
which he was straightway wounded, and came
out of his cell and ran about hither and thither
like a lunatic or a drunken man, and going in
and out could no longer restrain himself in
it, but began to hurry off in the same direc-
tion in which the young man had gone. And
when Abbot Apollos saw him like a madman
driven wild by the furies, he knew that the
fiery dart of the devil which he had seen, had
been fixed in his heart, and had by its
intolerable heat wrought in him this men-
tal aberration and confusion of the under-
standing; and so he came up to him and
asked " Whither are you hurrying, or what
has made you forget the gravity of years and
disturbed you in this childish way, and made
you hurry about so rapidly " ? And when he
owing to his guilty conscience and confused
by this disgraceful excitement fancied that
the lust of his heart was discovered, and, as

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

315

the secrets of his heart were known to the old
man, did not venture to return any answer to
his inquiries, "Return," said he, " to your
cell, and at last recognize the fact that till
now you have been ignored or despised by
the devil, and not counted in the number of
those with whom he is daily roused to fight
and struggle against their efforts and earnest-
ness,— you who could not — I will not say
ward off, but not even postpone for one day,
a single dart of his aimed at you after so
many years spent in this profession of yours.
And with this the Lord has suffered you to
be wounded that you may at least learn in
your old age to sympathize with infirmities to
which you are a stranger, and may know from
your own case and experience how to conde-
scend to the frailties of the young, though
when you received a young man troubled by
an attack from the devil, you did not en-
courage him with any consolation, but gave
him up in dejection and destructive despair
into the hands of the enemy, to be, as far as
you were concerned, miserably destroyed by
him. But the enemy would certainly never
have attacked him with so fierce an onslaught,
with which he has up till now scorned to
attack you, unless in his jealousy at the pro-
gress he was to make, he had endeavoured to
get the better of that virtue which he saw lay
in his disposition, and to destroy it with his
fiery darts, as he knew without the shadow of
a doubt that he was the stronger, since he
deemed it worth his while to attack him with
such vehemence. And so learn from your
own experience to sympathize with those in
trouble, and never to terrify with destructive
despair those who are in danger, nor harden
them with severe speeches, but rather restore
them with gentle and kindly consolations,
and as the wise Solomon says, " Spare not to
deliver those who are led forth to death, and
to redeem those who are to be slain," ^ and
after the example of our Saviour, break not
the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking
flax,^ and ask of the Lord that grace, by
means of which you yourself may faithfully
learn both in deed and power to sing: "the
Lord hath given me a learned tongue that I
should know how to uphold by word him that
is weary : " ^ for no one could bear the devices
of the enemy, or extinguish or repress those
carnal fires which burn with a sort of natural
flame, unless God's grace assisted our weak-
ness, or protected and supported it. And
therefore, as the reason for this salutary inci-
dent is over, by which the Lord meant to set
that young man free from dangerous desires

* Prov. xxiv. 1 1.

2 Cf. S. Matt. xii. 20.

Is. 1. 4.

and to teach you something of the violence of
their attack, and of the feeling of compassion,
let us together implore Him in prayer, that
He may be pleased to remove that scourge,
which the Lord thought good to lay upon you
for your good (for "He maketh sorry and
cureth: he striketh and his liands heal. He
humbleth and exalteth, he killeth and mak-
eth alive: he bringeth down to the grave
and bringeth up ")*, and may extinguish with
the abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery
darts of the devil, which at my desire He
allowed to wound you. And although the'
Lord removed this temptation at a single
prayer of the old man with the same speed
with which He had suffered it to come upon
him, yet He showed by a clear proof that a
man's faults when laid bare were not merely
not to be scolded, but that the grief of one
in trouble ought not to be lightly despised.
And therefore never let the clumsiness or
shallowness of one old man or of a few deter
you and keep you back from that life-giving
way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the tra-
dition of the Elders, if our crafty enemy makes
a wrongful use of their grey hairs in order to
deceive younger men : but without any cloak
of shame everything should be disclosed to
the Elders, and remedies for wounds be faith-
fully received from them together with exam-
ples of life and conversation : from which
we shall find like help and the same sort of
result, if we try to do nothing at all on our
own responsibility and judgment.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the call of Samuel.

Lastly so far has this opinion been shown
to be pleasing to God that we see that this
system not without reason finds a place in
holy Scripture, so that the Lord would not
of Himself instruct by the method of a Divine
colloquy the lad Samuel, when chosen for
judgment, but suffered him to run once or
twice to the old man, and willed that one
whom He was calling to converse with Him
should be taught even by one who had off,ended
God, as he was an old man, and preferred
that he whom He had deemed worthy to be
called by Him should be trained by the Elder
in order to test the humility of him who was
called to a Divine office, and to set an example
to the younger men by the manner of his sub-
jection.

* Job V. 18; I Sam. ii. 6, 7.

3i6

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CHAPTER XV.

Of the call of the Apostle Paul.

And when Christ in His own Person called
and addressed Paul, although He might have
opened out to him at once the way of per-
fection, yet He chose rather to direct him to
Ananias and commanded him to learn the
way of truth from him, saying: "Arise and
go into the city and there it shall be lold thee
what thou oughtest to do. "^ So He sends
him to an older man, and thinks good to have
him instructed by his teaching rather than
His own, lest what might have been rightly
done in the case of Paul might set a bad
example of self-sufficiency, if each one were to
persuade himself that he also ought in like
manner to be trained by the government and
teaching of God alone rather than by the in-
struction of the Elders. And this self-suffi-
ciency the apostle himself teaches, not only by
his letters but by his acts and deeds, ought
to be shunned with all possible care, as he
says that he wsnt up to Jerusalem solely for
this reason; viz., to communicate in a pri-
vate and informal conference with his co-
apostles and those who were before him
that Gospel which he preached to the Gen-
tiles, the grace of the Holy Spirit accompany-
ing him with powerful signs and wonders:
as he says "And I communicated with them
the Gospel which I preach among the Gen-
tiles lest perhaps I had run or should run in
vain." ^ Who then is so self-sufficient and
blind as to dare to trust in his own judgment
and discretion when the chosen vessel con-
fesses that he had need of conference with his
fellow apostles. Whence we clearly see that
the Lord does not Himself show the way of
perfection to anyone who having the oppor-
tunity of learning depises the teaching and
training of the Elders, paying no heed to
that saying which ought most carefully to be
observed: f 'Ask thy father and he will show

it to thee: thine Elders and they will tell
thee. "3

CHAPTER XVI.

How to seek for discretion.

We ought then with all our might to strive
for the virtue of discretion by the power of
humility, as it will keep us uninjured by
either extreme, for there is an old saying
(IxoonjTEg ia6ir)ieQ, i.e., extremes meet. For
excess of fasting and gluttony come to the
same thing, and an unlimited continuance of

' Acts ix. 5.

- Gal. ii. 2.

' Deut. xxxii. 7.

vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the tor-
por of a deep sleep : for when a man is weak-
ened by excessive abstinence he is sure to
return to that condition in which a man is kept
through carelessness and negligence, so that
we have often seen those who could not be
deceived by gluttony, destroyed by excessive
fasting and by reason of weakness liable to
that passion which they had before overcome.
Unreasonable vigils and nightly watchings
have also been the ruin of some whom sleep
could not get the better of : wherefore as the
apostle says "with the arms of righteousness
on the right hand and on the left, ' ' * we pass
on with due moderation, and walk between
the two extremes, under the guidance of dis-
cretion, that we may not consent to be led
away from the path of continence marked out
for us, nor fall by undue carelessness into the
pleasures of the palate and belly.

CHAPTER XVH.

On excessive fasts and vigils.

For I remember that I had so often resisted
the desire for food, that having abstained
from taking any for two or three days, my
mind was not troubled even by the recollec-
tion of any eatables and also that sleep was
by the assaults of the devil so far removed
from my eyes, that for several days and
nights I used to pray the Lord to grant a little
sleep to my eyes ; and then I felt that 1 was in
greater peril from the want of food and sleep
than from struggling against sloth and glut-
tony. And so as we ought to be careful
not to fall into dangerous effeminacy through
desire for bodily gratification, nor indulge
ourselves with eating before the right time
nor take too much, so also we ought to refresh
ourselves with food and sleep at the proper
time even if we dislike it. For the struggle
in each case is caused by the devices of the
enemy; and excessive abstinence is still more
injurious to us than careless satiety: for from
this latter the intervention of a healthy com-
punction will raise us to the right measure of
strictness, and not from the former.

CHAPTER XVHL

A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment,

Germanus: What then is the measure of
abstinence by keeping which with even ba-
lance we shall succeed in passing unharmed
between the two extremes?

* 2 Cor. vi. 7.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

317

CHAPTER XIX.

Of the best plan for our daily food.

Moses : On this matter we are aware that
there have been frequent discussions among
our Elders. For in discussing tlie abstinence
of some who supported their lives continually
on nothing but beans or only on vegetables
and fruits, they proposed to all of them to
partake of bread alone, the right measure of
which they fixed at two biscuits, so small that
they assuredly scarcely weighed a pound.

CHAPTER XX.

An objection on the ease of that abstinence in which a man is

sustained by two biscuits.

And this we gladly embraced, and answered
that we should scarcely consider this limit as
abstinence, as we could not possibly reach it
entirely.

CHAPTER XXI.

The answer concerning the value and measure of well-proved
abstinence.

Moses: If you want to test the force of this
rule, keep to this limit continually, never
departing from it by taking any cooked food
even on Sunday or Saturday, or on the occa-
sions of the arrival of any of the brethren ;
for the flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is
able not only to support itself through the
rest of the week on a smaller quantity, but
can also postpone all refreshment without
difficulty, as it is sustained by the addition
of that food which it has taken beyond the
limit; while the man who has always been
satisfied with the full amount of the above-
mentioned measure will never be able to do
this, nor to put off breaking his fast till the
morrow. For I remember that our Elders
(and I recollect that we ourselves also often
had the same experience) found it so hard
and difticult to practise this abstinence, and
observed the rule laid down with such pain
and hunger that it was almost against their
will and with tears and lamentation that they
set this limit to their meals.

CHAPTER XXII.

What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of partaking

food.

But this is the usual limit of abstinence;
viz., for everyone to allow himself food ac-

cording to the requirements of his strength or
bodily frame or age, in such quantity as is
required for the support of the flesh, and not
for the satisfactory feeling of repletion. For
on both sides a man will suffer the greatest
injury, if having no fixed rule at one time he
pinches liis stomach with meagre food and
fasts, and at another stuffs it by over-eating
himself; for as the mind which is enfeebled
for lack of food loses vigour in praying, while
it is worn out with excessive weakness of
the flesh and forced to doze, so again when
weighed down with over-eating it cannot pour
forth to God pure and free prayers: nor will
it succeed in preserving uninterruptedly the
purity of its chastity, while even on those
days on which it seems to chastise the flesh
with severer abstinence, it feeds the fire of
carnal desire with the fuel of the food that it
has already taken.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium castigetur.l

Nam quod semel per escarum abundantian
concretus fuerit in medullis, necesse est egeri
atque ab ipsa nature lege propel li, quse exu-
berantiam cujuslibet umoris superflui velut
noxiam sibi atque contrariam in semet ipsa
residere non patitur ideoque rationabili sem-
per et ffiquali est corpus nostrum parsimonia
castigandum, ut si naturali hac necessitate
commorantes in carne omnimodis carere non
possumus, saltim rarius nos et non amplius
quamtrina vice ista conluvione respersos totius
anni cursus inveniat, quod tamen sine ullo
pruritu quietus egerat sopor, non fallax imago
index occultae voluptatis eliciat.

Wherefore this is the moderate and even
allowance and measure of abstinence, of
which we spoke, which has the approval also
of the judgment of the fathers; viz., that daily
hunger should go hand in hand with our daily
meals, preserving both body and soul in one
and the same condition, and not allowing the
mind either to faint through weariness from
fasting, nor to be oppressed by over-eating,
for it ends in such a sparing diet that some-
times a man neither notices nor remembers in
the evening that he has broken his fast.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of the gluttony
of brother Benjamin.

And so far is this not done without diffi-
culty, that those who know nothing of perfect

1 It has been thought best to leave the first part of the following
chapter untranslated.

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

discretion would rather prolong their fasts for
two days, and reserve for tomorrow what
they should have eaten today, so that when
they come to partake of food they may enjoy
as much as they can desire. And you know
that lastly your fellow citizen Benjamin most
obstinately stuck to this: as he would not
every day partake of his two biscuits, nor
continually take his meagre fare with uniform
self-discipline, but preferred always to con-
tinue his fasts for two days that when he came
to eat he might fill his greedy stomach with
a double portion, and by eating four biscuits
enjoy a comfortable sense of repletion, and
manage to fill his belly by means of a two
days' fast. And you doubtless remember
what sort of an end there was to the life of
this man who obstinately and pertinaciously
relied on his own judgment rather than on
the traditions of the Elders, for he forsook
the desert and returned back to the vain phi-
losophy of this world and earthly vanities,
and so confirmed the above mentioned opinion
of the Elders by the example of his downfall,
and by his destruction teaches a lesson that
no one who trusts in his own opinion and
judgment can possibly climb the heights of
perfection, nor fail to be deceived by the
dangerous wiles of the devil.

CHAPTER XXV.

A question how is it possible always to observe one and the
same measure.

Germanus: How then can we observe this
measure without ever breaking it ? for some-
times at the ninth hour when the Station fast^
is over, brethren come to see us and then we
must either for their sakes add something to
our fixed and customary portion, or certainly
fail in that courtesy which we are told to show
to everybody.

CHAPTER XXVI.

The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of

food.

Moses: Both duties must be observed in
the same way and with equal care: for we
ought most scrupulously to preserve the
proper allowance of food for the sake of our

i On the Statio see the note on the Institutes V. xx.

ab.stinence, and in like manner out of charity
to show courtesy and encouragement to any of
the brethren who may arrive; because it is
absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to a
brother, nay, to Christ Himself, not to par-
take of it with him, but to make yourself a
stranger to his repast. And so we shall keep
clear of guilt on either hand if we observe this
plan ; viz., at the ninth hour to partake of one
of the two biscuits which form our proper
canonical allowance, and to keep back the
other to the evening, in expectation of some-
thing like this, that if any of the brethren
comes to see us we may partake of it with him,
and so add nothing to our own customary al-
lowance : and by this arrangement the arrival
of our brother which ought to be a pleasure to
us will cause us no inconvenience : since we
shall show him the civilities which courtesy
requires in such a way as to relax nothing of
the strictness of our abstinence. But if no
one should come, we may freely take this last
biscuit as belonging to us according to our
canonical rule, and by this frugality of ours as
a single biscuit was taken at the ninth hour,
our stomach will not be overloaded at even-
tide, a thing which is often the case with
those who under the idea that they are observ-
ing a stricter abstinence put off all their repast
till evening; for the fact that we have but
recently taken food hinders our intellect from
being bright and keen both in our evening and
in our nocturnal prayers, and so at the ninth
hour a convenient and suitable time has been
allowed for food, in which a monk can refresh
himself and so find that he is not only fresh
and bright during his nocturnal vigils, but
also perfectly ready for his evening prayers,
as his food is already digested.

With such a banquet of two courses, as it
were, the holy Moses feasted us, showing us
not only the grace and power of discretion
by his present learned speech, but also the
method of renunciation and the end and aim
of the monastic life by the discussion previ-
ously held; so as to make clearer than day-
light what we had hitherto pursued simply
with fervour of spirit and zeal for God iDut
with closed eyes, and to make us feel how far
we had iip till then wandered from purity of
heart and the straight line of our course, since
the practice of all visible arts belonging to
this life cannot possibly stand without an un-
derstanding of their aim, nor can it be taken
in hand without a clear view of a definite end.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.

319

III.

CONFERNECE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.

ON THE THREE SORTS OF RENUNCIATIONS.

CHA.PTER I.

Of the lifs and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius.

In that choir of saints who- shine like bril-
liant stars in the night of this world, we have
seen the holy Paphnutius,^ like some great
luminary, shining with the brightness of
knowledge. For he was a presbyter of our
company, I mean of those whose abode was in
the desert of Scete, where he lived to extreme
old age, without ever moving from his cell, of
which he had taken possession when still
young, and which was five miles from the
church, even to nearer districts ; nor was he
when worn out with years hindered by the
distance from going to Church on Saturday
or Sunday. But not wanting to return from
thence empty handed he would lay on his
shoulders a bucket of water to last him all the
week, and carry it back to his cell, and even
when he was past ninety would not suffer it to
be fetched by the labour of younger men. He
then from his earliest youth threw himself
into the monastic discipline with such fervour
that when he had spent only a short time in
it, he was endowed with the virtue of submis-
sion, as well as the knowledge of all good
qualities. For by the practice of humility
and obedience he mortified all his desires,
and by this stamped out all his faults and
acquired every virtue which the monastic
system and the teaching of the ancient fathers
produces, and, inflamed with desire for still
further advances, he was eager to penetrate
into the recesses of the desert, so that, with
no human companions *to disturb him, he

^ Paphnutius. The name is not uncommon in the annals of the
fourth century: (i) A Deacon who bore it suffered in the persecu-
tion of Diocletian ; and (2) a Bishop of the same name, who had
been a confessor, was mainly instrumental in preventing the rule of
celibacy being forced on the clergy by the Council of Nicaea ; (3)
another was a prominent member of the Meletian schism ; while
(4) a fourth was present, as Bisliop of Sais in Lower Egypt, at the
Council of Alexandria in 362 ; and (5) the life of a fifth is given by
Palladius (Hist. Laus. Ixii.-lxv.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c.
xvi.). The one whom Cassian here mentions, surnamed the Buf-
falo, is apparently a different person from the last mentioned.
Further details of his history are given in the Institutes IV. c. xxx.
xxxi., and in Conference X. ii., iii. Cassian tells the interesting
story of his share in the Anthropomorphite controversy, and the
beneficial influence which he then exercised.

might be more readily united to the Lord, to
whom he longed to be inseparably joined,
even while he still lived in the society of the
brethren. And there once more in his exces-
sive fervour he outstripped the virtues of the
Anchorites, and in his eager desire for con-
tinual divine meditation avoided the sight of
them: and he plunged into solitary places
yet wilder and more inaccessible, and hid
himself for a long while in them, so that, as
the Anchorites themselves only with great
difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now
and then, the belief was that he enjoyed and
delighted in the daily society of angels,
and because of this remarkable characteristic
of his ^ he was surnamed by them the Buffalo.

CHAPTER II.

Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it.

As then we were anxious to learn from
his teaching, we came in some agitation to
his cell towards evening. And after a short
silence he began to commend our undertaking,
because we had left our homes, and had visited
so many countries out of love for the Lord, and
were endeavouring with all our might to en-
dure want and the trials of the desert, and to
imitate their severe life, which even those
who had been born and bred in the same state
of want and penury, could scarcely put up
with; and we replied that we had come for
his teaching and instruction in order that we
might be to some extent initiated in the cus-
toms of so great a man, and in that perfection
which we had known from many evidences to
exist in him, not that we might be honoured
by any commendations to which we had no
right, or be puffed up with any elation of
mind, (with which we were sometimes exer-
cised in our own cells at the suggestion of
our enemy) in consequence of any words of his.
Wherefore we begged him rather to lay before
us what would make us humble and contrite,
and not what would flatter us and puff us up.

^ i.e., his solitariness.

320

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER III.

The statement of Abbot Paphniitius on the three kinds of
vocations, and the three sorts of renunciations.

Then the blessed Paphnutius: There
are, said he, three kinds of vocations. And
we know that there are three sorts of renun-
ciations as well, which are necessary to a
monk, whatever his vocation may be. And
we ought diligently to examine first the reason
for which we said that there were three kinds
of vocations, that when we are sure that we are
summoned to God's service in the first stage
of our vocation, we may take care that our life
is in harmony with the exalted height to
which we are called, for it will be of no use
to have made a good beginning if we do not
show forth an end corresponding to it. But
if we feel that only in the last resort have we
been dragged away from a worldly life, then,
as it appears that we rest on a less satisfac-
tory beginning as regards religion, so must we
proportionately make the more earnest en-
deavours to rouse ourselves with spiritual fer-
vour to make a better end. It is well too on
every ground for us to know secondly the
manner of the threefold renunciations because
we shall never be able to attain perfection, if
we are ignorant of it or if we know it, but do
not attempt to carry it out in act.

CHAPTER IV.

An explanation of the three callings.

To make clear therefore the main differ-
ences between these three kinds of calling,
the first is from God, the second comes
through man, the third is from compulsion.
And a calling is from God whenever some in-
spiration has taken possession of our heart,
and even while we are asleep stirs in us a
desire for eternal life and salvation, and bids
us follow God and cleave to His command-
ments with life-giving contrition: as we read
in Holy Scripture that Abraham was called
by the voice of the Lord from his native
country, and all his dear relations, and his
father's house; when the Lord said " Get thee
out from thy country and from thy kinsfolk
and from thy father's house." ^ And in this
way we have heard that the blessed Antony
also was called,^ the occasion of whose con-

> Gen. xii. i.

' The story, to which alhision is here made, is given in the Vita
Antonii of Athanasius. We are there told that six months after the
death of his parents Antony, then a young man of eighteen, clianced
to enter a cluircli just as tlie gospel for the day was being read : and
hearing the words, " if thou wilt be perfect," etc., he took them as

version was received from God alone. For
on entering a church he there heard in the
Gospel the Lord saying: "Whoever hateth
not father and mother and children and wife
and lands, yea and his own soul also, cannot
be my disciple ; " and "if thou wilt be per-
fect, go sell all that thou hast, and give to the
poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven,
and come, follow me : " ^ And with heartfelt
contrition he took this charge of the Lord as
if specially aimed at him, and at once gave
up everj'thing and followed Christ, without
any incitement thereto from the advice and
teaching of men. The second kind of calling
is that which we said took place through man ;
viz., when we are stirred up by the example
of some of the saints, and their advice, and
thus inflamed with the desire of salvation:
and by this we never forget that by the grace
of the Lord we ourselves were summoned, as
we were aroused by the advice and good
example of the above-mentioned saint, to give
ourselves up to this aim and calling; and in
this way also we find in Holy Scripture that
it was through Moses that the children of
Israel were delivered from the Egyptian bond-
age. But the third kind of calling is that
which comes from compulsion, when we have
been involved in the riches and pleasures of
this life, and temptations suddenly come upon
us and either threaten us with peril of death,
or smite us with the loss and confiscation of
our goods, or strike us down with the death of
those dear to us, and thus at length even
against our will we are driven to turn to God
whom we scorned to follow in the days of our
wealth. And of this compulsory call we
often find instances in Scripture, when we
read that on account of their sins the children
of Israel were given up by the Lord to their
enemies; and that on account of their tyranny
and savage cruelty they turned again, and
cried to the Lord. And it says: " The Lord
sent them a Saviour, called Ehud, the son of
Gera, the son of Jemini, who used the left
hand as well as the right: " and again we are
told, "they cried unto the Lord, who raised
them up a Saviour aad delivered them, to wit,
Othniel, the son of Kenaz, Caleb's younger
brother."* And it is of such that the Psalm
speaks: "When He slew them, then they
sought Him: and they returned and came to
Him early in the morning: and they remem-

addressed specially to himself, and at once proceeded to act upon
tliem, selling all that lie Iiad except a small portion which he re-
served for his sister's maintenance. Shortly after he was struck by
tlie words, "Take no thought for the morrow," whidi lie heard in
cliurch, and acting upon this, made away with the little property
wliich was left, committed liis sister to the care of certain, faithful
virgins, and betook himself to the ascetic life.

3 S. Luke xiv. 26; S. Matt. xix. 21.

* Judg. iii. 15,9.

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321

bered that God was their helper, and the most
High God their redeemer." And again:
"And they cried unto the Lord when they
were troubled, and He delivered them out of
their distress." ^

CHAPTER V.

How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and
the last is no hindrance to one who is in earnest.

Of these three calls then, although the
two former may seem to rest on better prin-
ciples, yet sometimes we find that even by
the third grade, which seems the lowest and
the coldest, men have been made perfect and
most earnest in spirit, and have become like
those who made an admirable beginning in
approaching the Lord's service, and passed
the rest of their lives also in most laud-
able fervour of spirit: and again we find
that from the higher grade very many have
grown cold, and often have come to a miser-
able end. And just as it was no hindrance
to the former class that they seemed to be
converted not of their own free will, but
by force and compulsion, in as much as the
loving kindness of the Lord secured for them
the opportunity for repentance, so too to the
latter it was of no avail that the early days of
their conversion were so bright, because they
were not careful to bring the remainder of
their life to a suitable end. For in the case
of Abbot Moses, '^ who lived in a spot in the
wilderness called Calamus,^ nothing was
wanting to his merits and perfect bliss, in
consequence of the fact that he was driven
to flee to the monastery through fear of death,
which was hanging over him because of a
murder; for he made such use of his compul-
sory conversion that with ready zeal he turned
it into a voluntary one and climbed the top-
most heights of perfection. As also on the
other hand ; to very many, whose names I ought
not to mention, it has been of no avail that
they entered on the Lord's service with better
beginning than this, as afterwards sloth and
hardness of heart crept over them, and they
fell into a dangerous state of torpor, and the
bottomless pit of death, an instance of which
we see clearly indicated in the call of the
Apostles. For of what good was it to Judas
that he had of his own free will embraced

1 Ps. Ixxvii. (Ixxviii.) 34, 35 ; cvi. (cvii.) iq.

2 Moses. This Abbot is possibly a different person from the
author of the first two Conferences, who had in his youth been a
pupil of Antony ; whereas the one here mentioned only took the
monastic life out of fear of death on a charge of murder. He is
mentioned again in Conferences VII. xxvi. ; XIX. xi., and some
account of him is given in Sozomen H.E. VI. xxix.

3 Calamus, mentioned again in the Institutes X. xxiv. (where see
note), and cf. Conf. VII. xivi.; XXIV. iv.

the highest grade of the Apostolate in the
same way in which Peter and the rest of the
Apostles had been summoned, as he allowed
the splendid beginning of his call to terminate
in a ruinous end of cupidity and covetousness,
and as a cruel murderer even rushed into the
betrayal of the Lord ? Or what hindrance was
it to Paul that he was suddenly blinded, and
seemed to be drawn against his will into the
way of salvation, as afterwards he followed
the Lord with complete fervour of soul, and
having begun by compulsion completed it by
a free and voluntary devotion, and terminated
with a magnificent end a life that was ren-
dered glorious by such great deeds ? Every-
thing therefore depends upon the end; in
which one who was consecrated by a noble
conversion at the outset may through careless-
ness turn out a failure, and one who was
compelled by necessity to adopt the monastic
life may through fear of God and earnestness
be made perfect.

CHAPTER VL

An account of the three sorts of renunciations.

We must now speak of the renunciations, of
which tradition and the authority of Holy
Scripture show us three, and which every one of
us ought with the utmost zeal to make com-
plete. The first is that by which as far as
the body is concerned we make light of all
the wealth and goods of this world; the
second, that by which we reject the fashions
and vices and former affections of soul and
flesh; the third, that by which we detach our
soul from all present and visible things, and
contemplate only things to come, and set our
heart on what is invisible. And we read that
the Lord charged Abraham to do all these
three at once, when He said to him " Get thee
out from thy country, and thy kinsfolk, and
thy father's house."* First He said "from
thy country," i.e., from the goods of this
world, and earthly riches: secondly, "from
thy kinsfolk," i.e., from this former life and
habits and sins, which cling to us from our
very birth and are joined to us as it were by
ties of affinity and kinship : thirdly, " from thy
father's house," i.e., from all the recollection
of this world, which the sight of the eyes can
afford. For of the two fathers, i.e., of the one
who is to be forsaken, and of the one who is to
be sought, David thus speaks in the person of
God: "Hearken, O daughter, and consider,
and incline thine ear: forget also thine own
people and thy father's house : ' '^ for the person

* Gen. xii. 1.

5 Ps. xliv. (xlv.) II.

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who says " Hearken, O daughter, " is certainly
a Father; and yet he bears witness that the
one, whose house and people he urges should
be forgotten, is none the less father of his
daughter. And this happens when being dead
with Christ to the rudiments of this world,
we no longer, as the Apostle says, regard "the
things which are seen, but those which are
not seen, for the things which are not
seen are eternal," ^ and going forth in heart
from this temporal and visible home, turn
our eyes and heart towards that in which
we are to remain for ever. And this we shall
succeed in doing when, while we walk in
the flesh, we are no longer at war with the
Lord according to the flesh, proclaiming in
deed and actions the truth of that saying of
the blessed Apostle " Our conversation is in
heaven."^ To these three sorts of renuncia-
tions the three books of Solomon suitably
correspond. For Proverbs answers to the first
renunciation, as in it the desires for carnal
things and earthly sins are repressed; to the
second Ecclesiastes corresponds, as there
everything which is done under the sun is
declared to be vanity; to the third the Song
of Songs, in which the soul soaring above all
things visible, is actually joined to the word
of God by the contemplation of heavenly
things.

CHAPTER VII.

How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renun-
ciations.

Wherefore it will not be of much advan-
tage to us that we have made our first renun-
ciation with the utmost devotion and faith, if
we do not complete the second with the same
zeal and ardour. And so when we have suc-
ceeded in this, we shall be able to arrive at
the third as well, in which we go forth from
the house of our former parent, (who, as we
know well, was our father from our very birth,
after the old man, when we were "by nature
children of wrath, as others also,"^) and fix
our whole mental gaze on things celestial.
And »of this father Scripture says to Jerusa-
lem which had despised God the true Father,
" Thy father was an Amorite, arid thy mother
a Hittite; " * and in the gospel we read "Ye
are of your father the devil and the lusts of
your father ye love to do."^ And when we
have left him, as we pass from things visible
to things unseen we shall be able to say
with the Apostle: "But we know that if our
earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved
we have a habitation from God, a house not
made with hands, eternal in the heavens,"®

' 2 Cor. iv. i8
' Phil. iii. 20.
' Eph. ii. 3.

* Ezek. xvi. •;.

■> S. John viii. 44.

* 2 Cor. V. I.

and this also, which we quoted a little while
ago: "But our conversation is in heaven,
whence also we look for the Saviour, the
Lord Jesus, who will reform the body of
our low estate made like to the body of His
glory," '' and this of the blessed David: " For
I am a sojourner upon the earth," and "a
stranger as 'all my fathers were; " ® so that we
may in accordance with the Lord's word be
made like those of whom the Lord speaks to
His Father in the gospel as follows : "They are
not of the world, as I am not of the world, " ^
and again to the Apostles themselves: "If
ye were of this world, the world would love
its own: but because ye are not of this world,
therefore the world hateth you."" Of this
third renunciation then we shall succeed in
reaching the perfection, whenever our soul is
sullied by no stain of carnal coarseness, but,
all such having been carefully eliminated, it
has been freed from every earthly quality and
desire, and by constant meditation on things
Divine, and spiritual contemplation has so
far passed on to things unseen, that in its
earnest seeking after things above and things
spiritual it no longer feels that it is prisoned
in this fragile flesh, and bodily form, but is
caught up into such an ecstasy as not only to
hear no words with the outward ear, or to
busy itself wdth gazing on the forms of things
present, but not even to see things close at
hand, or large objects straight before the very
eyes. And of this no one can understand the
truth and force, except one who has made
trial of what has been said, under the teaching
of experience; viz., one, the eyes of whose
soul the Lord has turned away from all
things present, so that he no longer considers
them as things that will soon pass away, but
as things that are already done with, and sees
them vanish into nothing, like misty smoke;
and like Enoch, "walking with God," and
"translated" from human life and fashions,
not "be found " amid the vanities of this life.
And that this actually happened corporeally
in the case of Enoch the book of Genesis thus
tells us. "And Enoch walked with God, and
was not found, for God translated him."
And the Apostle also says: "By faith Enoch
was translated that he should not see death,"
the death namely of which the Lord says in
the gospel: "He that liveth and believeth
in me shall not die eternally." " Wherefore,
if we are anxious to attain true perfection, we
ought to look to it that as we hav-e outwardly
with the body made light of parents, home,
the riches and pleasures of the world, we may

T Phil. iii. 20, 2 1.

* Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 19; Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 13.
® S. John xvii. 16.
^o S. John XV. 19.
" Gen. V. 24 (LXX.); Hcb. xi. 5 ; S. John xi. 26,

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323

also inwardly with the heart forsake all these
things and never be drawn back by any desires
to those things which we have forsaken, as
those who were led up by Moses, though they
did not literally go back, are yet said to have
returned in heart to Egypt; viz., by forsaking
God who had led them forth with such mighty
signs, and by worshipping the idols of Egypt
of which they had thought scorn, as Scripture
says: "And in their hearts they turned back
into Egypt, saying to Aaron: Make us gods
to go before us, "^ for we should fall into like
condemnation with those who, while dwelling
in the wilderness, after they had tasted manna
from heaven, lusted after the filthy food of
sins, and of mean baseness, and should seem
together with therri to murmur in the same
way: "It was well with us in Egypt, when we
sat over the flesh pots and ate the onions, and
garlic, and cucumbers, and melons:" ^ A form
of speech, which, although it referred prima-
rily to that people, we yet see fulfilled today in
our own case and mode of life: for everyone
who after renouncing this world turns back to
his old desires, and reverts to his former likings
asserts in heart and act the very same thing
that thev did. and savs "It was well with me
in Egypt," and I am afraid that the number
of these W'ill be as large as that of the multi-
tudes of backsliders of whom we read under
Moses, for though they were reckoned as six
hundred and three thousand armed men who
came out of Egypt, of this number not more
than two entered the land of promise. Where-
fore we should be careful to take exam-
ples of goodness from those who are few
and far betv/een, because according to that
figure of which we have spoken in the gospel
"Many are called but few" are said to be
"chosen."^ A renunciation then in body
alone, and a mere change of place from
Egypt will not do us any good, if we do not
succeed in achieving that renunciation in
heart, which is far higher and more valuable.
For of that mere bodily renunciation of which
we have spoken the apostle declares as fol-
lows: "Though I bestow all my goods to feed
the poor, and give my body to be burned, but
have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."*
And the blessed Apostle would never have
said this had it not been that he foresaw bv
the spirit that some who had given all their
goods to feed the poor would not be able to
attain to evangelical perfection and the lofty
heights of charity, because while pride or im-
patience ruled over their hearts they were not
careful to purify themselves from their former

1 Acts vii. 39, 40.

2 Numb. xi. j8; Exod. xvi. 3 ; Numb. xi. 5.

* S. Matt. xxii. 14.

* 1 Cor. xiii. 3.

sins, and unrestrained habits, and on that
account could never attain to that love of God
which never faileth, and these, as they fall
short in this second stage of renunciation,
can still less reach that third stage which
is most certainly far higher. But consider
too in your minds with great care the fact
that he did not simply say " If I bestow my
goods. " For it might perhaps be thought that
he spoke of one who had not fulfilled the
command of the gospel, but had kept back
something for himself, as some half-hearted
persons do. But he says " Though I bestow
all my goods to feed the poor," i.e., even if
my renunciation of those earthly riches be
perfect. And to this renunciation he adds
something still greater: "And though I give
my body to be burned, but have not charity,
I am nothing:" As if he had said in other
words, though I bestow all my goods to feed
the poor in accordance with that command in
the gospel, where we are told " If thou wilt
be perfect, go sell all that thou hast, and give
to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in
heaven,"^ renouncing them so as to keep
back nothing at all for myself, and though to
this distribution (of my goods) I should by
the burning of my flesh add martyrdom so as
to give up my body for Christ, and yet be im-
patient, or passionate or envious or proud, or
excited by wrongs done by others, or seek
what is mine, or indulge in evil thoughts, or
not be ready and patient in bearing all that
can be inflicted on me, this renunciation and
the burning of the outer man will profit me
nothing, while the inner man is still involved
in the former sins, because, while in the fer-
vour of the early days of my conversion I
made light of the mere worldly substance,
which is said to be not good or evil in itself
but indifi^erent, I took no care to cast out in
like manner the injurious powers of a bad
heart, or to attain to that love of the Lord
which is patient, which is "kind, which envieth
not, is not puffed up, is not soon angry,
dealeth not perversely, seeketh not her own,
thinketh no evil," which " beareth all things,
endureth all things,"** and which lastly never
suffers him who follows after it to fall by the
deceitfulness of sin.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of our very own possessions in which the beauty of the soul
is seen or its foulness.

We ought then to take the utmost care that
our inner man as well may cast off and make

5 S. Matt. xix. 21.

* I Cor. xiii. 4-7.

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away with all those possessions of its sins,
which it acquired in its former life: which as
they continually cling to body and soul are
our very own, and, unless we reject them and
cut them off while we are still in the flesh,
will not cease to accompany us after death.
For as good qualities, or charity itself which
is their source, may be gained in this world,
and after the close of this life make the man
who loves it lovely and glorious, so our faults
transmit to that eternal remembrance a mind
darkened and stained with foul colours.
For the beauty or ugliness of the soul is the
product of its virtues or its vices, the colour
it takes from which either makes it so glori-
ous, that it may well hear from the prophet
"And the king shall have pleasure in thy
beauty,"^ or so black, and foul, and ugly,
that it must surely acknowledge the stench
of its shame, and say " My wounds stink and
are corrupt because of my foolishness," ^ and
the Lord Himself says to it "Why is not
the wound of the daughter of my people
closed? " ^ And therefore these are our very
own possessions, which continually remain
with the soul, which no king and no enemy
can either give or take away from us. These
are our very own possessions which not even
death itself can part from the soul, but by
renouncing which we can attain to perfection,
and by clinging to which we shall suffer the
punishment of eternal death.

CHAPTER IX.

Of three sorts of possessions.

Riches and possessions are taken in Holy
Scripture in three different ways, i.e., as good,
bad, and indifferent. Those are bad, of which
it is said: "The rich have wanted and have
suffered hunger, ' ' * and ' ' Woe unto you that
are rich, for ye have received your consola-
tion: "^ and to have cast off these riches is
the height of perfection; and a distinction
which belongs to those poor who are com-
mended in the gospel by the Lord's saying:
" Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven; " ^ and in the Psalm:
" This poor man cried, and the Lord heard
him, "^ and again: "The poor and needy
shall praise thy name. "^ Those riches are
good, to acquire which is the work of great
virtue and merit, and the righteous possessor
of which is praised by David who says " The

' Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 12.

* Ps. xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 6.
' Jer. viii. 22.

* Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 11.

" S. Luke vi. 24.

6 S. Matt. V. •(.

' I's. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 7.

' Ps. Ixxiii. (Ixxiv.) 21.

righteousness

again

generation of the righteous shall be blessed:
glory and riches are in his house, and his
remaineth for ever:"^ and
the ransom of a man's life are his
riches."^" And of these riches it is said in
the Apocalypse to him who has them not and
to his shame is poor and naked: "I will
begin," says he, "to vomit thee out of my
mouth. Because thou sayest I am rich and
wealthy and have need of nothing: and
knowest not that thou art wretched and mis-
erable and poor and blind and naked, I coun-
sel thee to buy of me gold fire-tried, that
thou mayest be made rich, and mayest be
clothed in white garments, and that the
shame of thy nakedness may not appear." "
There are some also which are indifferent,
i.e., which may be made either good or bad:
for they are made either one or the other in
accordance with the will and character of
those who use them: of which tlie blessed
Apostle says " Charge the rich of this world
not to be high-minded nor to trust in the un-
certainty of riches, but in God (who givetli
us abundantly all things to enjoy), to do good,
to give easily, to communicate to others, to
lay up in store for themselves a good founda-
tion that they may lay hold on the true life. " ^^
These are what the rich man in the gospel
kept, and never distributed to the poor, —
while the beggar Lazarus was lying at his
gate and desiring to be fed with his crumbs;
and so he was condemned to the unbearable
flames and everlasting heat of hell-fire. ^^

CHAPTER X.

That none can become perfect merely through the first grade
of renunciation.

In leaving then these visible goods of the
world we forsake not our own wealth, but that
which is not ours, although we boast of it as
either gained by our own exertions or in-
herited by us from our forefathers. For as I
said nothing is our own, save this only which
we possess with our heart, and which cleaves
to our soul, and therefore cannot be taken
away from us by any one. But Christ speaks
in terms of censure of those visible riches, to
those who clutch them as if they were their
own, and refuse to share them with those in
want. " If ye have not been faithful in what
is another's, who will give to you what is your
own ? " ■** Plainly then it is not only daily

9 Ps. cxi. (cxii.) 2, 3.
10 Prov. xiii. 8.
" Rev. iii. 16-18.

'- I Tim. vi. 17-19.

'' Cf. S. Luke xiv. 19 sg.

1* S. Luke xvi. 12.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.

325

experience which teaches us that these riches
are not our own, but this saying of our Lord
also, by the very title which it g;ives them.
But concerning visible ^ and worthless riches
Peter says to the Lord: " Lo, we have left all
and followed thee. What shall we have
therefore ? " ' ' when it is clear that they had
left nothing but their miserable broken nets.
And unless this expression "all" is under-
stood to refer to that renunciation of sins,
which is really great and important, we shall
not find that the Apostles had left anything
of any value, or that the Lord had any reason
for bestowing on them the blessing of so great
glory, that they were allowed to hear from
Him that "in the regeneration, when the Son
of Man shall sit on the throne of His glory,
ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones judging
the twelve tribes of Israel."^ If then those,
who have completely renounced their earthly
and visible goods, cannot for sufficient rea-
son attain to Apostolic charity, nor climb with
readiness and vigour to that third stage of
renunciation which is still higher and belongs
to but few, what should those think of them-
selves, who do not even make that first step
(which is very easy) a thorough one, but
keep together with their old want of faith,
their former sordid riches, and fancy that
they can boast of the mere name of monks?
The first renunciation then of which we spoke
is of what is not our own, and therefore is
not enough of itself to confer perfection on
the renunciant, unless he advances to the
second, which is really and truly a renunci-
ation of what belongs to us. And when we
have made sure of this by the expulsion of all
our faults, we shall mount to the heights of
the third renunciation also, whereby we rise
above not merely all those , things which are
done in this world or specially belong to men,
but even that whole universe around us which
is esteemed so glorious, and shall with heart
and soul look down upon it as subject to
vanity and destined soon to pass away; as we
look, as the Apostle says, "not on those
things which are seen, but on those which are
not seen : for the things that are seen, are
temporal, and the things which are not seen
are eternal;"'* that so we may be found
worthy to hear that highest utterance, which
was spoken to Abraham: "and come into a
land which I will show thee," ^ which clearly
shows that unless a man has made those
three former renunciations with all earnest-

1 The MSS. vary between visibiiihis a.ndL'invtsi6ilil>us.

2 S. Matt. xix. 27.
s 11,. ver. 28.

4 2 Cor. iv. 18.

5 Gen. xii. i.

ness of mind, he cannot attain to this fourth,
which is granted as a reward and privilege to
one whose renunciation is perfect, that he
may be found worthy to enter the land of
promise which no longer bears for him the
thorns and thistles of sins; which after all
the passions have been driven out is acc^uired
by purity of heart even in the body, and
which no good deeds or exertions of man's
eft'orts (can gain), but which the Lord Himself
promises to show, saying "And come into
the land which I will show to thee: " which
clearly proves that the beginning of our sal-
vation results from the call of the Lord, Who
says ' ' Get thee out from thy country, ' ' and
that the completion of perfection and purity
is His gift in the same way, as He says
"And come into the land which I will show
thee," i.e., not one you yourself can know or
discover by your own efforts, but one which I
will show not only to one who is ignorant of
it, but even ta one who is not looking for it.
And from this we clearly gather that as we
hasten to the way of salvation through being
stirred up by the inspiration of the Lord, so
too it is under the guidance of His direction
and illumination that we attain to the perfec-
tion of the highest bliss.

CHAPTER XL

A question on the free will of man and the grace of God.

Germanus: Where then is there room for
free will, and how is it ascribed to our efforts
that we are worthy of praise, if God both
begins and ends everything in us which con-
cerns our salvation?

CHAPTER XIL

The answer on the economy of Divine Grace, with free will still
remaining in us.

Paphnutius: This would fairly influence
us, if in every work and practice, the begin-
ning and the end were everything, and there
were no middle in between. And so as we
know that God creates opportunities of salva-
tion in various ways, it is in our power to
make use of the opportunities granted to us
by heaven more or less earnestly. For just as
the offer came from God Who called him " get
thee out of thy country," so the obedience
was on the part of Abraham who went forth ;
and as the fact that the saying " Come into the
land" was carried into action, was the work
of him who obeyed, so the addition of the

326

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words " which I will show thee" came from
the grace of God Who commanded or prom-
ised it. But it is well for us to be sure that
although we practise every virtue with unceas-
ing efforts, yet with all our exertions and zeal
we can never arrive at perfection, nor is mere
human diligence and toil of itself sufficient to
deserve to reach the splendid reward of bliss,
unless we have secured it by means of the
co-operation of the Lord, and His directing
our heart to what is right. And so we ought
every moment to pray and say with David
" Order my steps in thy paths that my foot-
steps slip not: "^ and " He hath set my feet
upon a rock and ordered my goings: " ^ that
He Who is the unseen ruler of the human
heart may vouchsafe to turn to the desire of
virtue that will of ours, which is more readily
inclined to vice either through want of know-
ledge of what is good, or through the delights
of passion. And we read this in a verse in
which the prophet sings very plainly: *' Being
pushed I was overturned that I might fall,"
where the weakness of our free will is shown.
And " the Lord sustained me: " ^ again this
shows that the Lord's help is always joined to
it, and by this, that we may not be altogether
destroyed by our free will, when He sees
that we have stumbled. He sustains and sup-
ports us, as it were by stretching out His
hand. And again: "If I said my foot was
moved;" viz., from the slippery character of
the will, "Thy mercy, O Lord, helped me."*
Once more he joins on the help of God to his
own weakness, as he confesses that it was not
owing to his own efforts but to the mercy of
God, that the foot of his faith was not moved.
And again : "According to the multitude of the
sorrows which I had in my heart, " which sprang
most certainly from my free will, " Thy com-
forts have refreshed my soul," ^ i.e., by coming
through Thy inspiration into my heart, and
laying open the view of future blessings which
Thou hast prepared for them who labour in
Thy name, they not only removed all anxiety
from my heart, but actually conferred upon it
the greatest delight. And again: "Had it not
been that the Lord helped me, my soul had
almost dwelt in hell."® He certainly shows
that through the depravity of this free will he
would have dwelt in hell, had he not been saved
by the assistance and protection of the Lord.
For "By the Lord," and not by free-will,
" are a man's steps directed," and " although
the righteous fall " at least by free will, "he
shall not be cast away." And why.-" because

1 Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 5.

2 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 3.

* Ps.cxvii. (cxviii.) 13.

* Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 18.
^ lb. ver. II).

* lb. ver. 17.

"the Lord upholdeth him with His hand: " ''
and this is to say with the utmost clearness:
None of the righteous are sufiftcient of them-
selves to acquire righteousness, unless every
moment when they stumble and fall the
Divine mercy supports them with His hands,
that they may not utterly collapse and perish,
when they have been cast down through the
weakness of free will.

CHAPTER Xin.

That the ordering of our way comes from God.

And truly the saints have never said that
it was by their own efforts that they secured
the direction of the way in which they walked
in their course towards advance and perfection
of virtue, but rather they prayed for it from
the Lord, saying " Direct me in Thy truth,"
and "direct my way in thy sight."® But
someone else declares that he discovered this
very fact not only by faith, but also by experi-
ence, and as it were from the very nature of
things : " I know, O Lord, that the way of man
is not his: neither is it in a man to walk
and to direct his steps. "^ And the Lord
Himself says to Israel: "I will direct him
like a green fir-tree: from Me is thy fruit
found. "^°

CHAPTER XIV.

That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illu-
mination of the Lord.

The knowledge also of the law itself they
daily endeavour to gain not by diligence in
reading, but by the guidance and illumination
of God as they say to Him: " Show me Thy
ways, O Lord, and teach me Thy paths: " and
"open Thou mine eyes: and I shall see the
wondrous things of Thy law: " and " teach me
to do Thy will, for Thou art my God; " and
again: " Who teacheth man knowledge." "

CHAPTER XV.

That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize
God's commands, and the performance of a good will are
both gifts from the Lord.

Further the blessed David asks of the
Lord that he may gain that very understand-
ing, by which he can recognize God's com-

' Ps. xxxvi. (xxxvii.) 23, 24. '■> Jer. x. 23.

8 Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) s ; vi. c>. '" Hos. xiv. q.

" Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 4 ; cxviii. (cxix.) 18; cxlii. (cxliii.) 10; xdiL
(xciv.) 10.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.

7>'^1

mands which, he well knew, were written in
the book of the law, and he says " I am Thy
servant : C) give me understanding that I may
learn Thy commandments."^ Certainly he
was in possession of understanding, which had
been granted to him by nature, and also had
at his lingers' ends a knowledge of Ood's com-
mands which were preserved in writing in the
law: and still he prayed the Lord that he
might learn this more thoroughly as he knew
that what came to him by nature would never
be sufficient for him, unless his understand-
ing was enlightened by the Lord by a daily
illumination from Him, to understand the law
spiritually and to*' recognize His commands
more clearly, as the "chosen vessel" also
declares very plainly this which we are insist-
ing on. " For it is God which worketh in
you both to will and to do according to good
will. " - What could well be clearer than the
assertion that both our good will and the
completion of our work are fully wrought in
us by the Lord ? And again " For it is granted
to you for Christ's sake, not only to believe
in Him but also to suffer for Him." ^ Here
also he declares that the beginning of our
conversion and faith, and the endurance of
suffering is a gift to us from the Lord. And
David too, as he knows this, similarly prays
that the same thing may be granted to him by
God's mercy. " Strengthen, O God, that
which Thou hast wrought in us: " ^ showing
that it is not enough for the beginning of our
salvation to be granted by the gift and grace of
God, unless it has been continued and ended
by the same pity and continual help from
Him. For not free will but the Lord
' ' looseth them that are bound. ' ' No strength
of ours, but the Lord " raiseth them that
are fallen:" no diligence in reading, but
'' the Lord enlightens the blind: " where the
Greeks have yvgiog gocpoi ivqjlovg, i.e., "the Lord
maketh wise the blind: " no care on our part,
but "the Lord careth for the stranger : " no
courage of ours, but "the Lord assists (or
supports) all those who are down. " ^ But this
we say, not to slight our zeal and efforts and
diligence, as if they were applied unnecessa-
rily and foolishly, but that we may know that
we cannot strive without the help of God, nor
can our efforts be of any use in securing the
great reward of purity, unless it has been
granted to us by the assistance and mercy of
the Lord: for "a horse is prepared for the
day of battle: but help cometh from the

• Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 125. ■' Phil. i. 2g.

* Phil. ii. 13. * Ps. Ixvii. (Ixviii.) 29.

'' Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.) 7, 8, 9 ; cxliv. (cxlv.) 16.

Lord, " ® " for no man can prevail by strength. ' ' ''
We ought then always to sing with the blessed
David: "My strengtli and my praise is " not
my free will, but "the Lord, and He is
become my salvation." ^ And the teacher of
the Gentiles was not ignorant of this when he
declared that he was made capable of the
ministry of the New Testament not by his own
merits or efforts but by the mercy of God.
"Not," says he, "that we are capable of
thinking anything of ourselves as of our-
selves, but our sufficiency is of God," which
can be put in less good Latin but more for-
cibly, "our capability is of God," and then
there follows: "Who also made us capable
ministers of the New Testament." ^

CHAPTER XVL

That faith itself must be given us by the Lord.

But so thoroughly did the Apostles realize
that everything which concerns salvation was
given them by the Lord, that they even asked
that faith itself should be granted from the
Lord, saying: "Add to us faith " ^° as they did
not imagine that it could be gained by free
will, but believed that it would be bestowed
by the free gift of God. Lastly the Author of
man's salvation teaches us how feeble and
weak and insufficient our faith would be un-
less it were strengthened by the aid of the
Lord, when He says to Peter " Simon, Simon,
behold Satan hath desired to have you that
he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed
to my Father that thy faith fail not. " " And
another finding that this was happening in
his own case, and seeing that, his faith was
being driven by the waves of unbelief on the
rocks which would cause a fearful shipwreck,
asks of the same Lord an aid to his faith,
saying "Lord, help mine unbelief. "^^ So
thoroughly then did those Apostles and men in
the gospel realize that everything which is
good is brought to perfection by the aid of
the Lord, and not imagine that they could
preserve their faith unharmed by their own
strength or free will that they prayed that it
might be helped or granted to them by the
Lord. And if in Peter's case there was need
of the Lord's help that it might not fail, who
will be so presumptuous and blind as to fancy
that he has no need of daily assistance from
the Lord in order to preserve it? Especially

•^ Prov. xxi. 31.

7 I Sam. ii. q.

8 Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 14.
8 2 Cor. iii. 5, 6.

>o S. Luke xvii. 5.

'1 S. Luke xxii. 31, 32.

" S. Mark ix. 23.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

as the Lord Himself has made this clear in
the gospel, saying: "As the branch cannot
bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine,
so no more can ye, except ye abide in me." ^
And again: "for without me ye can do no-
thing. ■' - How foolish and wicked then it is to
attribute any good action to our own diligence
and not to God's grace and assistance, is
clearly shown by the Lord's saying, which
lays down that no one can show forth the
fruits of the Spirit without His inspiration and
co-operation. For " every good gift and every
perfect boon is from above, coming down
from the Father of lights."^ And Zechariah
too says, "For whatever is good is His, and
what is excellent is from Him."'' And so
the blessed Apostle consistently says : " What
hast thou which thou didst not receive? But
if thou didst receive it, why boastest thou as if
thou hadst not received it? " ^

CHAPTER XVn.

That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be
given to us by the Lord.

And that all the endurance, with which we
can bear the temptations brought upon us,
depends not so much on our own strength as
on the mercy and guidance of God, the blessed
Apostle thus declares: " No temptation hath
come upon you but such as is common to man.
But God is faithful, who will not suffer you
to be tempted above that ye are able, but
will with the temptation make also a way of
escape, that ye may. be able to bear it, " ° And
that God fits and strengthens our souls for
every good work, and worketh in us all those
things which are pleasing to Him, the same
Apostle teaches: " May the God of peace who
brought out of darkness the great Shepherd
of the sheep, Jesus Christ, in the blood of
the everlasting Testament, fit you in all good-
ness, working in you what is well-pleasing
in His sight. " ^ And that the same thing may
happen to the Thessalonians he prays as fol-
lows, saying: "Now our Lord Jesus Christ
Himself and God our Father who hath loved
us and hath given us everlasting consolation
and good hope in grace, exhort your hearts,
and confirm you in every good word and
work." ^

' S. John XV. 4.

2 lb. ver. 5.

^ S. lames i. 17.

* Zech.ix. i7(LXX.).

^ 1 Cor. iv. 7.
^ I Cor. X. 13.
' Heb. xiii. 20, 21.
* 2 Thess. ii. 15, 16.

CHAPTER XVin.

That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the

Lord.

And lastly the prophet Jeremiah, speaking
in the person of God, clearly testifies that
even the fear of God, by which we can hold
fast to Him, is shed upon us by the Lord:
saying as follows: ''And I will give them one
heart, and one way, that they may fear Me all
days: and that it may be well with them and
with their children after them. And I will
make an everlasting covenant with them and
will not cease to do them good: and I will
give My fear in their hearts that they may not
revolt from Me." ® Ezekiel also says: " And
I will give them one heart, and will put a new
spirit in their bowels: and I will take away
the stony heart out of their flesh and will
give them a heart of flesh: that they may
walk in My commandments, and keep My
judgments and do them: and that they may
be My people, and I may be their God." ^°

CHAPTER XIX.

That tlie beginning of our good will and its completion comes
from God.

And this plainly teaches us that the begin-
ning of our good will is given to us by the
inspiration of the Lord, when He draws us
towards the way of salvation either by His
own act, or by the exhortations of some man,
or by compulsion; and that the consumma-
tion of our good deeds is granted by Him in
the same way: but that it is in our own
power to follow up the encouragement and
assistance of God with more or less zeal, and
that accordingly we are rightly visited either
with reward or with punishment, because we
have been either careless or careful to corre-
spond to His design and providential arrange-
ment made for us with such kindly regard.
And this is clearly and plainly described in
Deuteronomy. "When," says he, " the Lord
thy God shall have brought thee into the land
which thou art going to possess, and shall have
destroyed many nations before thee, the Hit-
tite, and the Gergeshite, and the Amorite, the
Canaanite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and
the Jebusite, seven nations much more num-
erous than thou art and stronger than thou,
and the Lord thy God shall have delivered
them to thee, thou shalt utterly destroy them.

" Jerem. xxxii. 39, 40.

"O Ezek. xi. 19, 2a

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.

329

Thou shalt make no league with them.
Neither shalt thou make marriage with
them. "^ So then Scripture declares that it
is the free gift of God that they are brought
into the land of promise, that many nations
are destroyed before them, that nations 'more
numerous and mightier than the people of
Israel are given up into their hands. But
whether Israel utterly destroys them, or
whether it preserves them alive and spares
them, and whether or no it makes a league
with them, and makes marriages with them or
not, it declares lies in their own power. And
by this testimony we can clearly see what we
ought to ascribe to free will, and what to the
design and daily assistance of the Lord, and
that it belongs to divine grace to give us op-
portunities of salvation and prosperous under-
takings and victory: but that it is ours to
follow up the blessings which God gives us
with earnestness or indifference. And this
same fact we see is plainly taught in the
healing of the blind men. For the fact that
Jesus passed by them, was a free gift of
Divine providence and condescension. But
tlie fact that they cried out and said " Have
mercy on us. Lord, thou son of David," ^ was
an act of their own faith and belief.. That
they received the sight of their eyes was a gift
of Divine pity. But that after the reception
of any blessing, the grace of God, and the
use of free will both remain, the case of the
ten lepers, who were all healed alike, shows
us. For when one of them through goodness
of will returned thanks, the Lord looking for
the nine, and praising the one, showed that
He was ever anxious to help even those who
were unmindful of His kindness. For even
this is a gift of His visitation; viz., that he
receives and commends the grateful one, and
looks for and censures those who are thank-
less.

CHAPTER XX.

That nothing can be done in this world without God.

But it is right for us to hold with unswer-
ving faith that nothing whatever is done in
this world without God. For we must ac-
knowledge that everything is done either by
His will or by His permission, i.e., we must
believe that whatever is good is carried out by
the will of God and by His aid, and whatever
is the reverse is done by His permission,
when the Divine Protection is withdrawn from
us for our sins and the hardness of our hearts,
and suffers the devil and the shameful passions

of the body to lord it over us. And the words
of the Apostle most assuredly teach us this,
when he says: "For this cause God delivered
them up to shameful passions:" and again:
"Because they did not like to have God in
their knowledge, God delivered them up to
a reprobate sense, to do those things which
are not convenient. " ^ And the Lord Himself
says by the prophet: "But My people did not
hear My voice and Israel did not obey me :
Wherefore I gave them up unto their own
hearts' lusts. They shall walk after their
own inventions."*

CHAPTER XXL

An objection on the power of free will.

Germanus: This passage very clearly
shows the freedom of the will, where it is
said "If My people would have hearkened
unto Me," and elsewhere "But My people
would not hear My voice. "^ For when He
says " If they would have heard" He shows
that the decision to yield or not to yield lay
in their own power. How then is it true that
our salvation does not depend upon ourselves,
if God Himself has given us the power either
to hearken or not to hearken ?

CHAPTER XXII.

The answer; viz., that our free will always has need of the
help of the Lord.

Paphnutius: You have shrewdly enough
noticed how it is said "If they would have
he-arkened to Me : " but have not sufficiently
considered either who it is who speaks to one
who does or does not hearken ; or what fol-
lows: "I should soon have put down their
enemies, and laid My hand on those that
trouble them. "^ Let no one then try by a
false interpretation to twist that which we
brought forward to prove that nothing can be
done without the Lord, nor take it in support
of free will, in such a way as to try to take
away from man the grace of God and His
daily oversight, through this test: ''But My
people did not hear My voice," and again:
"If My people would have hearkened unto
Me, and if Israel would have walked in My
ways, etc. : " but let him consider that just
as the power of free will is evidenced by the
disobedience of the people, so the daily over-

' Deut. vii. 1-3.

2 S. Matt. XX. 31.

' Rom. i. 26, 2S.

* Ps. IXXX. (Ixxxi.) 13, 13.

° Ps. Ixxx. (Ixxxi.) 12, 13
" lb. ver. 15.

1 T p)

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

sight of God who declares and admonishes
him is also shown. For where He says " If
My people would have hearkened unto Me "
He clearly implies that He had spoken to
them before. And this the Lord was wont to
do not only by means of the written law, but
also by daily exhortations, as this which is
given by Isaiah: "All day long have I
stretched forth My hands to a disobedient
and gain-saying people." ^ Both points then
can be supported from this passage, where it
says: "If My people would have hearkened,
and if Israel had walked in rvly ways, I should
soon have put down their enemies, and laid
My hand on those that trouble them." For
just as free will is shown by the disobedience
of the people, so the government of God and
His assistance is made clear by the beginning
and end of the verse, where He implies that
He had spoken to them before, and that after-
wards He would put down their enemies, if
they would have hearkened unto Him. For

we have no wish to do away with man's free
will by what we have said, but only to estab-
lish the fact that the assistance and grace of
God are necessary to it every day and hour.
When he had instructed us with this dis-
course Abbot Paphnutius dismissed us from
his cell before midnight in a state of contri-
tion rather than of liveliness; insisting on
this as the chief lesson in his discourse; viz.,
' that when we fancied that by making perfect
the first renunciation (which we were en-
deavouring to do with all our powers), we could
climb the heights of perfection, we should
make the discovery that we had not yet even
begun to dream of the heights to which a
monk can rise, since after we had learnt some
few things about the second renunciation, we
should find out that we had not before this
even heard a word of the third stage, in which
all perfection is comprised, and which in
many ways far exceeds these lower ones.

IV.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL

ON THE LUST OF THE FLESH AND OF THE SPLRLT.

CHAPTER I.

Of the life of Abbot Daniel.

Among the other heroes of Christian phi-
losophy we also knew Abbot Daniel, who was
not only the equal of those who dwelt in the
desert of Scete in every sort of virtue, but was
specially marked by the grace of humility.
This man on account of his purity and gentle-
ness, though in age the junior of most, was
preferred to the office of the diaconate by the
blessed Paphnutius, presbyter in the same
desert : for the blessed Paphnutius was so de-
lighted with his excellent qualities, that, as
he knew that he was his equal in virtue and
grace of life, he was anxious also to make
him his equal in the order of the priesthood.
And since he could not bear that he should
remain any longer in an inferior office, and
was also anxious to provide a worthy succes-
sor to himself in his lifetime, he promoted him
to the dignity of the priesthood. ^ He how-

1 Is. Ixv. 3.

2 Nothing further appears to be known of Daniel than what is

ever relinquished nothing of his former cus-
tomary humility, and when the other was
present, never took upon himself anything
from his advance to a higher order, but when
Abbot Paphnutius was offering spiritual sac-
rifices, ever continued to act as a deacon in
the office of his former ministry. However,
the blessed Paphnutius though so great a
saint as to possess the grace of foreknowledge
in many matters, yet in this case was dis-
appointed of his hope of the succession and
the choice he had made, for he himself passed
to God no long time after him whom he had
prepared as his successor.

here told us bv Cassian. Tliere has been some discussion as to tKl
action of Paphnutius in having him raised to the priesthood, as Cas-
sian here narrates. Was Paphnutius really a bishop, or is it a case
of presbyterian orders, or do Cassian's expressions merely mean
that Papiuiutius procured his ordination first to the Diaconate and
then totlic Priesthood? Probably the latter, for (i) all the evidence
goes to show that preshyters had not the power of ordination ; and
(2 )there are many instances, in which it is said even of the laity that
tliey " ordained " men to the ministry when all tlmt can possibly be
meant is that they " procured their ordination: "' further (3) it will
be noticed that it is not even said that Paphnutius ordained Daniel,
but merelv that lie " promoted " him to the priestliood ; an expression
which miglit equally well be used of nomination as of actual ordina-
tion. See the subject discussed in Bingham's Antiquities, l!ook
II. c. iii. § 7, and C. Gore's " Church and the Ministry," p. 374.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.

33^

CHAPTER II.

An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling
from inexpressible joy to extreme dejection ot ramd.

So then we asked this blessed Daniel why
it was that as we sat in the cells we were some-
times filled with the utmost gladness of heart,
together with inexpressible delight and abun-
dance of the holiest feelings, so that I will not
say s/>ar/i, but even /tr////^'- could not follow it,
and pure prayers were readily breathed, and the
mind being'filled with spiritual fruits, pray-
ing to God even in sleep could feel that its
petitions rose lightly and powerfully to God:
and again, why it was that for no reason we
were suddenly filled with the utmost grief, and
weicrhed down with unreasonable depression,
so that we not only felt as if we ourselves were
overcome with such feelings, but also our cell
grew dreadful, reading palled upon us, aye
and our very prayers were offered up un-
steadily and vaguely, and almost as if we
were intoxicated: so that while we were
groaning and endeavouring to restore our-
selves to our former disposition, our mind
was unable to do this, and the more earnestly
it sought to fix again its gaze upon God, so
was it the more vehemently carried away to
wandering thoughts by shifting aberrations
and so utterly deprived of all spiritual fruits,
as not to be capable of being roused from this
deadly slumber even by the desire of the
kingdom of heaven, or by the fear of hell
held out to it. To this he replied.

CHAPTER III.

His answer to the question raised.

A THREEFOLD account of this mental dry-
ness of which you speak has been given by
the Elders. For it comes either from care-
lessness on our part, or from the assaults of
the devil, or from the permission and allow-
ance of the Lord. From carelessness on our
part, when through our own faults, coldness
has come upon us, and we have behaved care-
lessly and hastily, and owing to slothful idle-
ness have fed on bad thoughts, and so make
the ground of our heart bring forth thorns and
thistles; which spring up in it, and conse-
quently make us sterile, and powerless as
regards all spiritual fruit and meditation. '
From the assaults of the devil when, some-
times, while we are actually intent on good
desires, our enemy with crafty subtilty makes
his way into our heart, and without our know-
ledge and against our will we are drawn away
from the best intentions.

CHAPTER IV.

How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allow-
ance of God.

But for -God's permission and allowance
there is a twofold reason. First, that being
for a short time forsaken by the Lord, and
observing with all humility the weakness of
our own heart, we may not be puffed up on
account of the previous purity of heart,
granted to us by His visitation; and that by
proving that when we are forsaken by Him
we cannot possibly recover our former state
of purity and delight by any groan ings and
efforts of our own, we may also learn that our
previous gladness of heart resulted not from
our own earnestness but from His gift, and
that for the present time it must be sought
once more from His grace and enlightenment.
But a second reason for this allowance, is to
prove our perseverance, and steadfastness of
mind, and real desires, and to show in us,
with what purpose of heart, or earnestness
in prayer we seek for the return of the Holy
Spirit, when He leaves us, and also in order that
when we discover with what efforts we must
seek for that spiritual gladness — when once it
-is lost — and the joy of purity, we may learn
to preserve it more carefully, when once it
is secured, and to hold it with firmer grasp.
For men are generally more careless about
keeping whatever they think can be easily
replaced.

CHAPTER V.

How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God's

help.

And by this it is clearly shown that God's
grace and mercy always work in us what is
good, and that when it forsakes us, the efforts
of the worker are useless, and that however
earnestly a man may strive, he cannot regain
his former condition without His help, and
that this saying is constantly fulfilled in our
case: that it is "not of him that willeth or
runneth but of God which hath mercy. ' '^ And
this grace on the other hand sometimes does
not refuse to visit with that holy inspiration
of which you spoke, and with an abundance of
spiritual thoughts, even the careless and in-
different; but inspires the unworthy, arouses
the slumberers, and enlightens those who are
blinded by ignorance, and mercifully reproves
us and chastens us, shedding itself abroad in
our hearts, that thus we may be stirred by the
compunction which He excites, and impelled

1 Rom. ix. i6.

332

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

to rise from the sleep of sloth. Lastly we are
often filled by His sudden visitation with
sweet odours, beyond the power of human
composition — ■ so that the soul is ravished
with these delights, and caught up, as it were,
into an ecstasy of spirit, and becomes oblivi-
ous of the fact that it is still in the flesh.

CHAPTER VI.

How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God.

But the blessed David recognizes that
sometimes this departure of which we have
spoken, and (as it were) desertion by God may
be to some extent to our advantage, so that
he was unwilling to pray, not that he might
not be absolutely forsaken by God in any-
thing (for he was aware that this would have
been disadvantageous both to himself and to
human nature in its course towards perfec-
tion) but he rather entreated that it might be
in measure and degree, saying " Forsake me
not utterly" ' as if to say in other words: I
know that thou dost forsake thy saints to their
advantage, in order to prove them, for in no
other way could they be tempted by the devil,
unless they were for a little forsaken by Thee.
And therefore I ask not that Thou shouldest
never forsake me, for it would not be well for
me not to feel my weakness and say "It is
jrood for me that Thou hast brought me low ' ' ^
nor to have no opportunity of fighting. And
this I certainly should not have, if the Divine
protection shielded me incessantly and un-
brokenly. For the devil will not dare to
attack me while supported by Thy defence, as
he brings both against me and Thee this
objection and complaint, which he ever slan-
derously brings against Thy champions,
" Does Job serve God for nought? Hast not
Thou made a fence for him and his house and
all his substance round about ? " ^ But I rather
entreat that Thou forsake me not utterly — ■
what the Greeks call t'wg acp^tioa, i.e., too
much. For, first, as it is advantageous to me
for Thee to forsake me a little, that the stead-
fastness of my love may be tried, so it is
dansferous if Thou suffer me to be forsaken
excessively in proportion to my faults and
what I deserve, since no power of man, if in
temptation it is forsaken for too long a time by
Thine aid, can endure by its own steadfast-
ness, and not forthwith give in to the power of
the enemy's side, unless Thou Thyself, as Thou
knowcst the strength of man, and moderatest
his struggles, " Suffer us not to be tempted

' Ps. cxvili. (cxixj :

2 /'>. vcr. 71.

Job i. 9, lo.

above that we are able, but makest with the
temptation a way of escape that we may be
able to bear it."* And something of this sort
we read in the book of Judges was mystically
designed in the matter of the extermination
of the spiritual nations which were opposed
to Israel: "These are the nations, which
the Lord left that by them He might instruct
Israel, that they might learn to fight with their
enemies," and again shortly after: "And the
Lord left them that He might try Israel by
them, whether they would hear the command-
ments of the Lord, which Fie had commanded
their fathers by the hand of Moses, or not. "^
And this conflict God reserved for Israel,
not from envy of their peace, or from a wish
to hurt them, but because He knew that it
would be good for them that while they were
always oppressed by the attacks of those
nations they might not cease to feel them-
selves in need of the aid of the Lord, and for
this reason might ever continue to meditate
on Him and invoke His aid, and not grow
careless through lazy ease, and lose the habit
of resisting, and the practice of virtue. For
again and again, men whom adversity could
not overcome, have been cast down by free-
dom from care and by prosperity.

CHAPTER VII.

Of the value of the conflict which the Apostle makes to consist
in the strife between the flesh and the spirit.

This conflict too we read in the Apostle
has for our good been placed in our members :
"For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and
the spirit against the flesh. But these two
are opposed to ejch other so that ye should
not do what ye would. " ^ You have here too a
contest as it were implanted in our bodies, by
the action and arrangement of the Lord.
For when a thing exists in everybody univer-
sally and without the slightest exception,
what else can you think about it except that
it belongs to the substance of human nature,
since the fall of the first man, as it were
naturally: and when a thing is found to be
congenital with everybody, and to grow with
their growth, how can we help believing that it
was implanted by the will of the Lord, not to
injure them but to help them ? But the reason
of this conflict; viz., of flesh and spirit, he
tells us is this: " that ye should not do what
ye would." And so, if we fulfil what God ar-
ranged that we should not fulfil, i.e., that we
should not do what we liked, how can we help

* I Cor. X. 13

Judg. ill. 1-4.

6 G.-1I.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.

333

conflict implanted in us by the arrangement
of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and
calls and urges us on to a higher state : and
if it ceased, most surely there would ensue
on the other hand a peace that is fraught

believing that it is bad for us? And this the meaning of those two desires, i.e., of the

with danger.

CHAPTER VIII.

A question, how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he
has spoken of the lusts of the flesli and spirit opposing one
another, he adds a third thing ; viz., man's will.

Germanus: Although some glimmer of the
sense now seems clear to us, yet as we cannot
thoroughly grasp the Apostle's meaning, we
want you to explain this more clearly to us.
For the existence of three things seems to be
indicated here : first, the struggle of the flesh
against the spirit, secondly the desire of the
spirit against the flesh, and thirdly our own
free will, which seems to be placed between
the two, and of which it is said: " Ye should
not do what ye will. " And on this subject,
though as I said we can gather some hints,
from what you have explained of the meaning,
yet — since this conference gives the oppor-
tunity — we are anxious to have it more fully
explained to us.

CHAPTER IX.

The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly.

Daniel: It belongs to the understanding
to discern the distinctions and the drift of
questions; and it is amain part of knowledge
to understand how ignorant you are. Where-
fore it is said that "if a fool asks questions,
it will be accounted wisdom,"' because, al-
though one who asks questions is ignorant of
the answer to the question raised, yet as he
wisely asks, and learns what he does not
know, this very fact will be counted as wisdom
in him, because he wisely discovers what he
was ignorant of. According then to this
division of yours, it seems that in this passage
the Apostle mentions three things, the lust of
the flesh against the spirit, and of the spirit
against the flesh, the mutual struggle of which
against each other appears to have this as its
cause and reason; viz., " that," says he, "we
should not do what we would." There
remains then a fourth case, which you have
overlooked; viz., that we should do what we
would not. Now then, we must first discover

flesh and spirit, and so next learn to discuss
our free will, which is placed between the
two, and then lastly in the same way we can
see what cannot belong to our free will.

CHAPTER X.

That the word flesh is not used with one single meaning only.

We find that the word flesh is used in holy
Scripture with many different meanings: for
sometimes it stands for the whole man, i.e.,
for that which consists of body and soul, as
here "And the Word was made flesh," ^ and
"All fleshshall see the salvation of our God. " ^
Sometimes it stands for sinful and carnal
men, as here "My spirit shall not remain in
those men, because they are flesh. " ^ Some-
times it is used for sins themselves, as here :
' ' But ye are not in the flesh but in the spirit, ' ' '*
and again "Flesh and blood shall not inherit
the kingdom of God:" lastly there follows,
" Neither shall corruption inherit incorrup-
tion." ® Sometimes it stands for consanguin-
ity and relationship, as here: "Behold we are
thy bone and thy flesh,"''' and the Apostle
says : " If by any means I may provoke to emu-
lation them who are my flesh, and save some
of them. "^ We must therefore inquire in
which of these four meanings we ought to
take the word flesh in this place, for it is
clear that it cannot possibly stand as in the
passage where it is said "The Word was made
flesh," and "All flesh shall see the salvation
of God. " Neither can it have the same mean-
ing as where it is said " My Spirit shall not
remain in those men because they are flesh,"
because the word flesh is not used here as it is
there where it stands simply for a sinful man —
when he says " The flesh lusteth against the
spirit and the spy-it against the flesh. ' ' ^ Ncr
is he speaking of things material, but of real-
ities which in one and the same man struggle
either at the same time or separately, with
the shifting and changing of time.

1 Prov. xvii. 2S. (LXX.).

CHAPTER XL

What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage, and what
the lust of the flesh is.

Wherefore in this passage we ought to
take "flesh" as meaning not man, i.e., his ma-

- .S. John i. 14.
' S. Luke iii. 6.
* (jen. vi. 3.
'• Rom. viii. 9.

6 I Cor. XV. 50.
" 2 Sam. V. I.

8 Rom. xi. 14.

9 Gal. V. 17.

334

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

terial substance, but the carnal will and evil
desires, just as " spirit " does not mean any-
thing material, but the good and spiritual
desires of the soul: a meaning which the
blessed Apostle has clearly given just before,
where he begins: "But I say, walk in the
spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the desires
of the flesh ; for the flesh lusteth against the
spirit and the spirit against the tlesh: but
these are contrary the one to the other, that
ye may not do what ye would." And since
these two; viz., the desires of the flesh and of
the spirit co-exist in one and the same man,
there arises an internal warfare daily carried
on within us, while the lust of the flesh which
rushes blindly towards sin, revels in those
delights which are connected with present
ease. And on the other hand the desire of
the spirit is opposed to these, and wishes to
be entirely absorbed in spiritual efforts, so
that it actually wants to be rid of even the
necessary uses of the flesh, longing to be so
constantly taken up with these things as to
desire to have no share of anxiety about the
weakness of the flesh. The flesh delights in
wantonness and lust: the spirit does not even
tolerate natural desires. The one wants to
have plenty of sleep, and to be satiated with
food: the other is nourished with vigils and
fasting, so as to be unwilling even to admit
of sleep and food for the needful purposes
of life. The one longs to be enriched with
plenty of everything, the other is satisfied
even without the possession of a daily supply
of scanty food. The one seeks to look sleek
by means of baths, and to be surrounded every
day by crowds of flatterers, the other delights
in dirt and filth, and the solitude of the inac-
cessible desert, and dreads the approach of
all mortal men. The one lives on the esteem
and applause of men, the other glories in
injuries offered to it, and in persecutions.

CHAPTER XII.

What is our free wil], which stands in between the lust of the
flesh and the spirit.

Between these two desires then the free
will of the soul stands in an intermediate
position somewhat worthy of blame, and
neither delights in the excesses of sin, nor
acquiesces in the sorrows of virtue. Seeking
to restrain itself from carnal passions in such
a way as not nevertheless to be willing to
undergo the requisite suffering, and wanting
to secure bodily chastity without chastising
the flesh, and to acquire purity of heart with-
out the exertion of vigils, and to abound in

spiritual virtues together with carnal ease,
and to attain the grace of patience without the
irritation of contradiction, and to practise the
humility of Christ without the loss of worldly
honour, to aim at the simplicity of religion in
conjunction with worldly ambition, to serve
Christ not without the praise and favour of
men, to profess the strictness which truth
demands without giving the slightest offence
to anybody: in a word, it is anxious to pursue
future blessings in such a way as not to lose
present ones. And this free will would never
lead us to attain true perfection, but would
plunge us into a most miserable condition of
lukewarmness, and make us like those who
are rebuked by the Lord's remonstrance in
the Apocalypse: "I know thy works, that thou
art neither hot nor cold. I would that thou
wert hot or cold. But now thou art luke-
warm, and I will forthwith spue thee out of
my mouth ;" ^ were it not that these conten-
tions which rise up on both sides disturb
and destroy this condition of lukewarmness.
For when we give in to this free will of ours
and want to let ourselves go in the direction
of this slackness, at once the desires of the
flesh start up, and injure us with their sinful
passions, and do not suffer us to continue in
that state of purity in which we delight, and
allure us to that cold and thorny path of
pleasure which we have to dread. Again,
if inflamed with fervour of spirit, we want to
root out the works of the flesh, and without
any regard to human weakness try to raise
ourselves altogether to excessive efforts after
virtue, the frailty of the flesh comes in, and
recalls us and restrains us from that over
excess of spirit which is bad for us: and so
the result is that as these two desires are
contradicting each other in a struggle of this
kind, the soul's free will, which does not like
either to give itself up entirely to carnal
desires, nor to throw itself into the exertions
which virtue calls for, is tempered as it were
by a fair balance, while this struggle between
the two hinders that more dangerous free will
of the soul, and makes a sort of equitable
balance in the scales of our body, wliich
marks out the limits of flesh and spirit most
accurately, and does not allow the mind in-
flamed with fervour of spirit to sway to the
right hand, nor the flesh to incline through
the pricks of sin, to the left. And while this
struggle goes on day after day in us to our
profit, we are driven most beneficially to
come to that fourth stage which we do not
like, so as to gain purity of heart not by ease
and carelessness, but by constant efforts and

1 Rev. ill. IS, i6.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.

335

contrition of spirit; to retain our chastity of
the flesh by prolonged fastings, hunger, thirst,
and watchfulness; to acquire purpose of heart
by reading, vigils, constant prayer and the
wretchedness of solitude; to preserve patience
by the endurance of tribulation ; to serve our
^Iaker in the midst of blasphemies and
abounding insults ; to follow after truth if
need be amid the hatred of the world and its
enmity; and while, with such a struggle going
on in our body, we are secured from slothful
carelessness, and incited to that effort which
is against the grain, and to the desire for vir-
tue, our proper balance is admirably secured,
and on one side the languid choice of our
free will is tempered by fervour of spirit,
and on the other the frigid coldness of the
flesh is moderated by a gentle warmth, and
while the desire of the spirit does not allow
the mind to be dragged into unbridled
licence, neither does the weakness of the
flesh allow the spirit to be drawn on to un-
reasonable aspirations after holiness, lest in
the one case incentives to all kinds of sins
might arise, or in the other the earliest of all
sins might lift its head and wound us with a
yet more fatal dart of pride : but a due equi-
librium will result from this struggle, and
open to us a safe and secure path of virtue
between the two, and teach the soldier of
Christ ever to walk on the King's highway.
And thus the result will be that when, in con-
sequence of the lukewarmness arising from
this sluggish will of which we have spoken,
the mind has been more easily entangled in
carnal desires, it is checked by the desire of
the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in
earthly sins; and again, if through over much
feeling our spirit has been carried in unbounded
fervour and towards ill-considered and im-
possible heights, it is recalled by the weak-
ness of the flesh to sounder considerations and
rising above the lukewarm condition of our
free will with due proportion and even course
proceeds along the waj^ of perfection. Some-
thing of this sort w'e hear that the Lord
ordained in the case of the building of that
tower in the book of Genesis, where a confu-
sion of tongues suddenly sprang up, and put
a stop to the blasphemous and wicked attempts
of men. For there would have remained
there in opposition to God, aye and against
ttie interest of those who had begun to assail
His Divine Majesty, an agreement boding no
good, unless by God's providence the dif-
ference of languages, raising disturbances
among them, had forced them because of the
variations of their words to go on to a better
condition, and a happy and valuable discord
had recalled to salvation those whom a ruin-

ous union had driven to destruction, as when
divisions arose they began to experience
human weakness of which when puffed up by
their wicked plots they had hitherto known

nothing.

CHAPTER XHL

01 the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle
between fleslv and spirit.

But from the differences which this conflict
causes, there arises a delay that is so far
advantageous to us, and from this struggle an
adjournment that is for our good, so that
while through the resistance of the material
body we are hindered from carrying out
those things which we have wickedly con-
ceived with our minds, we are sometimes
recalled to a better mind either by penitence
springing up, or by some better thoughts which
usually come to us when delay in carrying
out things, and time for reflection intervene.
Lastly, those who, as we know, are not pre-
vented from carrying out the desires of their
free will by any hindrances of the flesh, I mean
devils and spiritual wickednesses, these, since
they have fallen from a higher and angelical
state, we see are in a worse plight than men,
in as much as (owing to the fact that oppor-
tunity is always present to gratify their de-
sires) they are not delayed from irrevocably
performing whatever evil they have imagined
because as their mind is quick to conceive it,
so their substance is ready and free to carry
it out; and while a short and easy method is
given them of doing what they wish, no salu-
tary second thoughts come in to amend their
wicked intention.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickednesses.

For a spiritual substance and one that is
not tied to any material flesh has no excuse
for an evil thought which arises within, and
also shuts out forgiveness for its sin, because
it is not harassed as we are by incentives of
the flesh without, to sin, but is simply in-
flamed by the fault of a perverse will. And
therefore its sin is without forgiveness and its
weakness without remedy. For as it falls
through the allurements of no earthly matter,
so it can find no pardon or place for repent-
ance. And from this we can clearly gather
that this struggle which arises in us of the
flesh and spirit against each other is not
merely harmless, but actually extremely use-
ful to us.

CASSIA^TS COXFEREXCES

;: :■— 5-1 :-~ £^~ caieiessi

!£= =• - T^s.^'~ ■* - - T - : 5:nT^ to ieai± :::zt _\

w^ai W God's ^raoe ve se£ lica: we
^ _e£H Sar szhbc isate s^C fecMi carn:?^ •poi-

-«£ cam. mo isnger be ^a&Klsed bf Ae ~ : r, : zs

o^ SQOdt beavts 2s M. we bo ki. , ri: -%' .-3- ^ -

Ae coGrnaEKsca of las ~ifs'i- xt — _^i 1 -trs , - -

r Ai . . -i-

CHAPTER XTIIL

,-5 raised ber

iarse Trar: Tiz— Ttiiai is tis:

IS. ' 3-

CHAFTER XIX-

* ce jjj^sJTS, ■ There are, acpxxiing to tbe state-

^les-jct. -' JLiCfc i^ ^ ^ laerrts cf ScripCiiie, tinee kiads of serais: Ae

,_^. fras i$ tlae caiiiai, tJae second Ae nataral, and

COXFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.

lie Laird 'H<- sr^iritna.! : '^—. i--

• ■ ihc caxiu '

n,r:id z'jOC. resolts. Bex winaxcTer iii;
OGce rejected QTrimg to rrs ■' " " ' -

113.1-

r -'^ Cc

iZTiiS 2j IOi.lOW5:

itiTciii noc r'n-r iti- r
'.3-:d : for ir is fo«: ------

cemTng rfae spiriraal ;

by no nLLn, ' ' - Ajl _
rirual rr-strc.--: s":jdi 0:
neaS- ' ' * -A-nd >j- '
Tsre ceased to be
5epax2xe oarse-Tcs -
in tie "world- 3Tir^ to .
open z^Z-^z' : ' -

ciref-zl t: ii:_ -
f jriwiih a SDirir.

fco" Ton axe ret csr-

-JE-^-TTraTIr

Tsre cajiijoc-

I T

"»^3i zoit .jzs — zrzi even j'jCic ce. iroiSi. 2. c_—

ir5c

" :.e^. lEc

iiiTiore- " - _ _

jk3Csx.Sc tr.-

. -'_: tc.

"iioi me sp-mtuai

_s rcue C-LTrrta. In.. - _ gel tfc*=- war of per-
-;---: " 7 : : r all draim back
— : z_-; .1 ;■ frTTocT- For tie

' zZ IS 2Z i^t5t t " - IL fc^ tilic sijIS Gjt

- -. ' I5 euigaiptii'mctif:- r :^_r :; -^xl r^-migT

- . - ; - '-to the fcoaitzii! cf tne f^g^aBsJjwg^ ^nai

-5 to do «im rae beigk3 cf perfecri::i. liji 1^ I1I5 5jcrrcr ar

_ . " ' : - __ "T'-'w^iT- lie 15 i_ — ;:_! i ' ' -

selves ±'

z. 2S it DT this ire _■- - -

- " - rrfeclic" " " ' "'"
-.nearent -_-:_-
~ : :-i rr iirectioiis. ?Tif} so

7 . . -:ir5e ~ - - "- ,^ "world i~!Z

its plecLscre. or because ire are free rrr^in

■-'---- ' - e. 3:n.d tias w-

^^_-. _ .i- _ :.- • _ ■ _nii coa-ditioc

-r of xlL ar^ dl5-

tie WfjK^xzL o£

' - : -f "wc'Cds cf

- . c or coid

1 I "will betiin

■■* And i^c

•vzxi'ZZL 15 coasi'lere-.:! :_- .
cover trtit we are spaed
the Lord- in 2"---- — =
His: "I w^- -

But zjw tno3 art ItLkew-2-"
to srue tfiee oct of ^1 '

"witdotit 5":od res^oo. c.c.^ :
tiiat tnose "smoni be rf;.<^ pre^
tile b«owels of His love. 2 .

spirit and. jiies the esijCc : - - _ v. ^

l^irone wfea has, as "we sc - ■ .e st^r:: : .1

^ idke'wann besTtiiziins'. zzi . -. - : — r~~ " ; . . t

the Tir;7Tii>=^ QE Ttnir.nV- ^"i»-i if ^ _ _ ^ -

- the way of rh^'^ pmfessioE. wrtit doe :_ _.:- -

' ~d iarVOXir Th:^- M& OfZS- ~ " ' ' r

j: JrCted DV tins TTm''-g^'7T'?r''!lr- ; __^- -

ir were tth-^ ? , i :-.■£■ bv in r-rm EG VnrigPT- cf r^-

rli discsai wiiat is pe±ea: laer Tieyrr fronx
"_e ^ rTWi'iin rn..~~-; rf zzicxiL'^- FcT te sn — 5 tzn

nis heart tiaat "w-^ --, : t^.- 11 :rt re s is:

^-lillise r STTTH TTJi— h ypri — '~ ~ j^'i"'

req"iiir"es c-ear"sii!ig. or rseecs tc- c?e

------ --_ ^^^^ oEe: 3'^ cti dtis ' -

no gj'rmirf advioe as he : ^ _ ;

realise that he is "weisiiSred "with, tie "^'tttbw'- cf

-Te Dec.

th--ji:b tijev tttt;- -

tar "srirse ~~ ~ ~ i-irse "wno ~~<"i n^

i-i: "-v inro the Lord's i as feed.

witatever is cold is "warnKd wiien received into

:~earter De sccectec ud a strocrar
--^ -_ -- wily

■we have s cisc-overed and

': V exp; - - 1" ive cftsL seai

' : "^-~: 1 r. . "WCT-'flV

It liikewartn ind "Jiat^ni^ lEaei isever. Amd
"- f s^.f ^^c "we read in the r — — are ha^sd rf

and learned me^ "rx:! desisc t~ miiing and

* I Cat 31- 14,. rj.

•S2«

•«I'

338

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

life-giving word in ground that is barren and
unfruitful and choked by noxious thorns; but:
that they should scorn this, and rather cul-
tivate fallow ground, i.e., that they should,
transfer all their care and teaching, and their !
zeal in the life-giving word to pagans and
worldly men: as we thus read: " Thus saith |
the Lord to the men of Judah and inhabitants
of Jerusalem: break up your fallow ground,
and sow not among thorns." ^

CHAPTER XX.

Of those who renounce the world but ill.

In the last place I am ashamed to say how
we find that a large number have made their
renunciation in such a way that we find that
they have altered nothing of their former j
sins and habits, but only their state of life
and worldly garb. For they are eager in
amassing wealth which they never had before, '
or else do not give up that which they had, '
or which is still sadder, they actually strive
to augment it under this excuse; viz., that
they assert that it is right that they should ;
always support with it their relations or the
brethren, or they hoard it under pretence of
starting congregations which they imagine
that they can preside over as Abbots. But
if only they would sincerely seek after the
way of perfection, they would rather en-
deavour with all their might and main to
attain to this: viz., that they might strip them-
selves not only of their wealth but of all their
former likings and occupations, and place
themselves unreservedly and entirely under
the guidance of the Elders so as to have no
anxiety not merely about others, but even
about themselves. But on the contrary we
find that while they are eager to be set over
their brethren, they are never subject to their
Elders themselves, and, with pride for their
starting point, while they are quite ready to
teach others they take no trouble to learn them-
selves or to practise what they are to teach : and
so it is sure to end in their becoming, as the
Saviour said, " blind leaders of the blind " so
that " both fall into the ditch. ' ' ^ And this pride
though there is only one kind of it, yet takes
a twofold form. One form continually puts
on the appearance of seriousness and gravity,
the other breaks out with unbridled freedom
into silly giggling and laughing. The former
delights in not talking: the latter thinks it
hard to be kept to the restraint of silence,
and has no scruples about talking freely on

' Jerem. iv. 3.

2 Cf. S. Matt. XV. 14.

matters that are unsuitable and foolish, while
it is ashamed to be thought inferior to or less
well informed than others. The one on ac-
count of pride seeks clerical office, the other
looks down upon it, since it fancies that it
is unsuitable or beneath its former dignity
and life and the deserts of its birth. And
which of these two should be accounted the
worse each man must consider and decide
for himself. At any rate the kind of disobe-
dience is one and the same, if a man breaks
the Elder's commands whether it be owing
to zeal in work, or to love of ease : and it is
as hurtful to upset the rules of the monastery
for the sake of sleep, as it is for the sake of
vigilance, and it is just the same to transgress
the Abbot's orders in order to read, as it is
to slight them in order to sleep: nor is there
any difference in the incentive to pride if you
neglect a brother, whether it is because of
your fast or because of your breakfast : except
that those faults which seem to show them-
selves under the guise of virtues and in the
form of spirituality are worse and less likely
to be cured than those which arise openly
and from carnal pleasures. For these latter,
like sicknesses which are perfectly plain and
visible, are grappled with and cured, while
the former, since they are covered under the
cloak of virtue, remain uncured, and cause
their victims to fall into a more dangerous
and deadly state of ill health.

CHAPTER XXI.

Of those who having made light of great things busy them-
selves about trifles.

For how can we show how absurd it is that
we see that some men after their first enthu-
siasm of renunciation in which they forsook
their estates and vast wealth and the service
of the world, and betook themselves to the
monasteries, are still earnestly devoted to
those things which cannot altogether be cut
off, and which we cannot do without in this
state of life, even though they are small and
trifling things; so that in their case the
anxiety about these trifles is greater than
their love of all their property. And it cer-
tainly will not profit them much that they
have disregarded greater riches and property,
if they have only transferred their affections
(on account of which they were to make light
of them) to small and trifling things. For
the sin of covetousness and avarice of which
they cannot be guilty in the matter of really
valuable things, they retain with regard to
commoner matters, and so show that they have

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

339

not got rid of their former greed but only
changed its object. For if they are too care-
ful abouttheir mats, baskets, blankets, books,
and other trities such as these, the same pas-
sion holds them captive as before. And they
actually guard and defend their rights over
them so jealously as to get angry with' their
brethren about them, and, what is worse, they
are not ashamed to quarrel over them. And
being still troubled by the bad efTects of their
former covetousness, they are not content to
possess those things which the needs and
requirements of the body compel a monk to
have, according to the common number and
measure, but here too they show the greedi-
ness of .their heart, as they try to have those
things which they are obliged to use, better
got up than the others; or, exceeding all due
bounds, keep as their special and peculiar
property and guard from the touch of others

that which ought to belong to all the brethren
alike. As if the difference of metals, and
not the passion of covetousness was what mat-
tered; and as if it was wrong to be angry
about big things, while one might innocently
be about trifling matters: and as if we had
not given up all our precious things just in
order that we might learn more readily to
think nothing about trifles! For what differ-
ence does it make whether one gives way to
covetousness in the matter of large and
splendid things, or in the matter of the merest
trifles, except that we ought to think a man
so far worse if he has made light of great
things and then is a slave to little things?
And so that sort of renunciation of the world
does not attain perfection of heart, because
though it ranks as poverty it still keeps the
mind of wealth.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

ON THE EIGHT FRINCIPAL FAULTS.

CHAPTER I.

Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the differ-
ent kinds of faults and the way to overcome them.

In that assembly of Ancients and Elders
was a man named Serapion,^ especially en-
dowed with the grace of discretion, whose
Conference I think it is worth while to set
down in writing. For when we entreated
him to discourse of the way to overcome our
faults, so that tlieir origin and cause might
be made clearer to us

he thus began.

CHAPTER II.

Abbot Serapion"s enumeration of eight principal faults.

There are eight principal faults which
attack mankind ; viz., first gastrimargia,
which means gluttony, secondly fornication.

1 Serapion when young was a pupil of Theonas, and an anecdote
of his youthful indulgence in good things in secret has been already
told in Conference II. c. xi. Another story of him is given in
XV 1 1 1, xi. One of this name is mentioned by Palladius in the
Lausiac History, c. Ixxvi., and by Rufinus in the History of the
Monks, c. xviii., where we are told that he lived at Arsinoe, and
that he had ten thousand monks subiect to his rule ; a number
which Sozomen alsociives (H. E.VI. xxviii.). It is, however, doubtful
whether this Serapion of Arsinoe is the person whose Confer-
ence Cassian here gives. Gazet identifies, Tillemont distinguishes
the two. Jerome, it should be noticed, speaks in Ep. cviii. (Epi-
taphium Pauls) as if there was not only one of this name famous
among the monks of Egypt at that time.

thirdly philargyria, i.e., avarice or the love
of money, fourthly anger, fifthly dejection,
sixthly acedia, i.e., listlessness or low spirits,
seventhly cenodoxia, i.e., boasting or vain
glory, and eighthly pride.

CHAPTER III.

Of the two classes of faults and their fourfold manner of acting

on us.

Of these faults then there are two classes.
For they are either natural to us as gluttony,
or arise outside of nature as covetousness.
But their manner of acting on us is fourfold.
For some cannot be consummated without an
act on the part of the flesh, as gluttony and
fornication, while some can be completed
without any bodily act, as pride and vainglory.
Some find the reasons for their being excited
outside us, as covetousness and anger; others
are aroused by internal feelings, as accidie ^
and dejection.

CHAPTER IV.

A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication and their

remedies.

And to make this clearer not only by a short
discussion to the best of my ability, but by

2 For this word see tlie note on the Institutes V. i.

140

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

Scripture proof as well, gluttony and fornica-
tion, though they exist in us naturally (for
sometimes they spring up without any incite-
ment from the mind, and simply at the motion
and allurement of the flesh) yet if they are to
be consummated, must find an external object,
and thus take effect only through bodily acts.
For "every man is tempted of his own lust.
Then lust when it has conceived beareth sin,
and sin when it is consummated begets
death.'"' -"^ For the first Adam could not have
fallen a victim to gluttony unless he had had
material food at hand, and had used it
wrongly, nor could the second Adam be
tempted without the enticement of some
object, when it was said to Him: "If Thou
art the Son of God, command that these
stones be made bread." " And it is clear to
everybody that fornication also is only com-
pleted by a bodily act, as God says of this
spirit to the blessed Job : " And his force is in
his loins, and his strength in the navel of his
belly. "^ And so these two faults in partieai-
lar, which are carried into effect by the aid
of the flesh, especially require bodily absti-
nence as well as spiritual care of the soul ;
since the determination of the mind is not in
itself enough to resist their attacks (as is
sometimes the case with anger or gloominess
or the other passions, which an effort of the
mind alone can overcome without any morti-
fication of the flesh) ; but bodily chastisement
must be used as well, and be carried out by
means of fasting and vigils and acts of con-
trition; and to this must be added change of
scene, because since these sins are the results
of faults of both mind and body, so they can
only be overcome by the united efforts of both.
And although the blessed Apostle says gener-
ally that all faults are carnal, since he enumer-
ates enmities and anger and heresies among
other works of the flesh,* yet in order to cure
them and to discover their nature more exactly
we make a twofold division of them : for we
call some of them carnal, and some spiritual.
And those we call carnal, which specially
have to do with pampering the appetites of
the flesh, and with which it is so charmed and
satisfied, that sometimes it excites the mind
when at rest and even drags it against its will
to consent to its desire. Of which the blessed
Apostle says: " In which also we all walked
in time past in the desires of our flesh, fulfill-
ing the will of the flesh and of our thoughts,
and were by nature children of wrath even as
the rest."^ But we call those spiritual which
spring only from the impulse of the mind and

1 S. James i. 14, 15.

2 S. Matt. iv. 3.
2 Job xl. 16.

* Cf. Gal. V. 19.
^ Eph. ii. 3.

not merely contribute no pleasure to the flesh,
but actually bring on it a weakness that is
harmful to it, and only feed a diseased mind
with the food of a most miserable pleasure.
And therefore these need a single medicine
for the heart: but those which are carnal
can anly be cured, as we said, by a double
remedy. Whence it is extremely useful for
those who aspire to purity, to begin by with-
drawing from themselves the material which
feeds these carnal passions, through which
opportunity for or recollection of these same
desires can arise in a soul that is still affected
by the evil. For a complicated disease needs
a complicated remedy. For from the body the
object and material which would allure it
must be withdrawn, for fear lest the lust should
endeavour to break out into act; and before
the mind we should no less carefully place
diligent meditation on Scripture and watchful
anxiet}^ and the withdrawal into solitude, lest
it should give birth to desire even in thought.
But as regards other faults intercourse with
our fellows is no obstacle, or rather it is of
the greatest possible use, to those who truly
desire to get rid of them, because in mixing
with others they more often meet with rebuke,
and while they are more frequently provoked
the existence of the faults is made evident, and
so they are cured with speedy remedies.

CHAPTER V.

How our Lord alone was tempted without sin.

And so our Lord Jesus Christ, though
declared by the Apostle's word to have been
tempted in all points like as we are, is yet
said to have been " without sin," <^ i.e., without
the infection of this appetite, as He knew
nothing of incitements of carnal lust, with
which we are sure to be troubled even against
our will and without our knowledge ; ' for the
archangel thus describes the manner of His
conception: "The Holy Ghost shall come
upon thee and the power of the Most High

" Heb. iv. 15.

' The following from P. IMozley's profound work on tlie Au!;u!i-
tinian Theory of Predestination may serve to illustrate tlie remarks
in the text: " Scripture says that our Lord was in all points tempted
like as we are. But the Church has not considered it consistent
with piety to interpret this text to mean that our Lord had the same
direct propension to sin that we liave, or that which is called by
divines concupiscence. Such direct apjietite for what is sinful is the
characteristic of our fallen and corrupt nature ; and our Lord did
not assume a corrupt, but a sound humanity. Indeed, concupis-
cence, even prior to and independent of its gratification, has of
itself the nature of sin ; and therefore coidd not belong to a perfect
Beins. Our Lord had all the passions and affections that legiti-
mately belong to man ; which passions and affections, tending as
they do in their own natures to become inordinate, constituted of
themselves a state of trial ; but the Church has regarded our Lord's
trial as consisting in preserving ordinate affections from becoming
inordinate, rather than in restraining desire proximate to sin from
gratification " (p. 97).

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

34i

shall overshadow thee: therefore that which
shall be born of thee shall be called holy, the
Son of God.'' ^

CHAPTER VI.

Of the manner of the temptation in which our Lord was

attacked by the devil.

For it was right that He who was in posses-
sion of the perfect image and likeness of God
should be Himself tempted through those
passions, through which Adam also was
tempted while he still retained the image of
God unbroken, that is, through gluttony, vain-
glory, pride ; and not through those in which
he was by his own fault entangled and in-
volved after the transgression of the command-
ment, when the image and likeness of God was
marred. For it was gluttony through which he
took the fruit of the forbidden tree, vainglory
through which it was said "Your eyes shall be
opened," and pride through which it was said
" Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and
evil."- With these three sins then we read
that the Lord our Saviour was also tempted ;
with gluttony when the devil said to Him:
"Command these stones that they be made
bread : " with vainglory : " If Thou art the Son
of God cast Thyself down: " with pride, when
he showed him all the kingdoms of the world
and the glory of them and said: " All this will
I give to Thee if Thou wilt fall down and
worship me:"^ in order that He might by
His example teach us how we ought to van-
quish the tempter when we are attacked on
the same lines of temptation as He was. And
so both the former and the latter are spoken
of as Adam ; the one being the first for destruc-
tion and death, and the other the first for
resurrection and life. Through the one the
whole race of mankind is brought into con-
demnation, through the other the whole race
of mankind is set free. The one was fash-
ioned out of raw and unformed earth, the other
was born of the Virgin Mary. In His case
then though it was fitting that He should un-
dergo temptation, yet it was not necessary
that He should fail under it. Nor could He
who had vanquished gluttony be tempted by
fornication, which springs from superfluity
and gluttony as its root, with which even the
first Adam would not have been destro5'ed
unless before its birth he had been deceived
by the wiles of the devil and fallen a vic-
tim to passion. And therefore the Son of
God is not said absolutely to have come
•' in the flesh of sin," but "in the likeness of

the flesh of sin," because though His was
true flesh and He ate and drank and slept,
and truly received the prints of the nails,
there was in Him no true sin inherited
from the fall, but only what was something
like it. For He had no experience of the
fiery darts of carnal lust, which in our case
arise even against our will, from the constitu-
tion of our natures, but He took upon Him
something like this, by sharing in our nature.
For as He truly fulfilled every function which
belongs to us, and bore all human infirmities.
He has consequently been considered to have
been subject to this feeling also, that He
might appear through these infirmities to
bear in His own flesh the state even of this
fault and sin. Lastly the devil only tempted
Him to those sins, by which he had deceived
the first Adam, inferring that He as man
would similarly be deceived in other matters
if he found that He was overcome by those
temptations by which he had overthrown His
predecessor. But as he was overthrown in
the first encounter he was not able to bring
upon Him the second infirmity which had
shot up as from the root of the first fault.
For he saw that He had not even admitted
anything from which this infirmity might take
its rise, and it was idle to hope for the fruit
of sin from Him, as he saw that He in no
sort of way received into Himself seeds or
roots of it. Yet according to Luke, who
places last that temptation in which he uses
the words " If Thou art the Son of God, cast
Thyself down,"^ we can understand this of
the feeling of pride, so that that earlier one,
which Matthew places third, in which, as Luke
the evangelist says, the devil showed Him all
the kingdoms of the world in a moment of
time and promised them to Him, may be taken
of the feeling of covetousness, because after
His victory over gluttony, he did not venture
to tempt Him to fornication, but passed on
to covetousness, which he knew to be the root
of all evils, '^ and when again vanquished in
this, he did not dare attack Him with any of
those sins which follow, which, as he knew
full well, spring from this as a root and
source ; and so he passed on to the last pas-
sion; viz., pride, by which he knew that those
who are perfect and have overcome all other
sins, can be affected, and owing to which he
remembered that he himself in his character
of Lucifer, and many others too, had fallen
from their heavenly estate, without tempta-
tion from any of the preceding passions. In
this order then which we have mentioned,
which is the one given by the evangelist Luke,

1 S. Luke i. 35.

- Gen. iii. 5.

' Imaginariutn.

* S. Luke iv. g.

* I Tim. vi. 10.

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there is an exact agreement between the al-
lurements and forms of the temptations by
which that most crafty foe attacked both the
first and the second Adam. For to the one
he said "Your eyes shall be opened;" to the
other " he showed all the kingdoms of the world
and the glory of them." In the one case he
said ''Ye shall be as gods; " in the other, "If
Thou art the Son of God." ^

CHAPTER VIL

How vainglory and pride can be consummated without any
assistance from the body.

And to go on in the order which we pro-
posed, with our account of the way in which
the other passions act (our analysis of which
was obliged to be interrupted by this account
of gluttony and of the Lord's temptation) vain-
glory and pride can be consummated even
without the slightest assistance from the body.
For in what way do those passions need any
action of the flesh, which bring ample destruc-
tion on the soul they take captive simply by its
assent and wish to gain praise and glory from
men? Or what act on the part of the body
was there in that pride of old in the case of
the above mentioned Lucifer; as he only con-
ceived it in his heart and mind, as the prophet
tells us: "Who saidst in thine heart: I will
ascend into heaven, I will set my throne above
the stars of God. I will ascend above the
heights of the clouds, I will be like the most
High."- And just as he had no one to stir
him up to this pride, so his thoughts alone
were the authors of th^ sin when complete
and of his eternal fall; especially as no exer-
cise of the dominion at which he aimed
foUov/ed.

CHAPTER VIIL

Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and
of the difference between it and those faults which are natu-
ral to us.

Covetousness and anger, although they are
not of the same character (for the former is
something outside our nature, while the
latter seems to have as it were its seed plot
within us) yet they spring up in the same way,
as in most instances they find the reasons for
their being stirred in something outside of us.
For often men who are still rather weak com-
plain that they have fallen into these sins
through irritation and the instigation of
others, and are plunged headlong into the

1 Cf. Gen. iii. 5 with S. Matt. iv. 6, 8. 2 Is. xiv. 13, 14.

passions of anger and covetousness by the
provocation of other people. But that covet-
ousness is something outside our nature, we
can clearly see from this ; viz., that it is proved
not to have its first starting point inside us,
nor does it originate in what contributes to
keeping body and soul together, and to the
existence of life. For it is plain that nothing
belongs to the actual needs and necessities of
our common life except our daily meat and
drink: but everything else, with whatever
zeal and care we preserve it, is shown to be
something distinct from the wants of man by
the needs of life itself. And so this tempta-
tion, as being something outside our nature,
only attacks those monks who are but luke-
warm and built on a bad foundation, whereas
those which are natural to us do not cease
from troubling even the best of monks and
those who dwell in solitude. And so far is
this shown to be true, that we find that there
are some nations who are altogether free from
this passion of covetousness, because they
have never by use and custom received into
themselves this fault and infirmity. And we
believe that the old world before the flood
was for long ages ignorant of the madness of
this desire. And in the case of each one of
us who makes his renunciation of the world a
thorough one, we know that it is extirpated
without any difficulty, if, that is, a man gives
up all his property, and seeks the monastic
discipline in such a way as not to allow him-
self to keep a single farthing. And we can
find thousands of men to bear witness to
this, who in a single moment have given up
all their property, and have so thoroughly
eradicated this passion as not to be in the
slightest degree troubled by it afterwards,
though all their life long they have to fight
against gluttony, and cannot be safe from it
without striving with the utmost watchfulness
of heart and bodily abstinence.

CHAPTER IX.

How dejection and accidie generally arise without any exter-
nal provocation, as in the case of other faults. 3

Dejection and accidie generally arise
without any external provocation, like those
others of which we have been speaking: for
we are well aware that they often harass soli-
taries, and those who have settled themselves
in the desert without any intercourse with

' Such is the heading which Gazet gives. Petschenig edits
"De ira atque tristitia, quod inter accedentia vitia plerumque fnon]
inveniantur ; " where " non " is his own insertion, aud as lie frankly
tells us, the heading does not suit the chapter.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

343

other men, and this in the most distressing
way. And tlie truth of this any one who has
lived in the desert and made trial of the con-
flicts of the inner man, can easily prove by
experience.

CHAPTER X.

How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ
from tlieiii are akin to one another.

Of these eight faults then, although they
are different in their origin and in their
way of affecting us, yet the six former; viz.,
gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger,
dejection, accidie, have a sort of connexion
with each other, and are, so to speak, linked
together in a chain, so that any excess of the
one forms a starting point for the next. For
from superfluity of gluttony fornication is
sure to spring, and from fornication cov-
etousness, from covetousness anger, from
anger, dejection, and from dejection, accidie.
And so we must fight against them in the
same way, and with the same methods : and
having overcome one, we ought always to
enter the lists against the next. For a tall
and spreading tree of a noxious kind will the
more easily be made to wither if the roots on
which it depends have first been laid bare or
cut; and a pond of water which is dangerous
will be dried up at once if the spring and
flowing channel which produce it are carefully
stopped up. Wherefore in order to over-
come accidie, you must first get the better
of dejection: in order to get rid of dejiection,
anger must first be expelled : in order to quell
anger, covetousness must be trampled under
foot : in order to root out covetousness, forni-
cation must be checked: and in order to
destroy fornication, you must chastise the
sin of gluttony. But the two remaining
faults ; viz. , vainglory and pride, are connected
together in a somewhat similar way as the
others of which we have spoken, so that the
growth of the one makes a starting point for
the other (for superfluity of vainglory pro-
duces an incentive to pride) ; but they are
altogether different from the six former faults,
and are not joined in the same category with
them, since not only is there no opportunity
given for them to spring up from these, but
they are actually aroused in an entirely differ-
ent way and manner. For when these others
have been eradicated these latter flourish
the more vigorously, and from the death of the
others they shoot forth and grow up all the
stronger: and therefore we are attacked by
these two faults in quite a different way. For
we fall into each one of those six faults at the

moment when we have been overcome by the
ones that went before them ; but into these
two we are in danger of falling when we have
proved victorious, and above all after some
splendid triumph. In the cases then of all
faults just as they spring up from the growth
of those that go before them, so are they eradi-
cated by getting rid of the earlier ones. And
in this way in order that pride may be driven
out vainglory must be s-tifled, and so if we
always overcome the earlier ones, the later
ones will be checked; and through the exter-
mination of those that lead the way, the rest
of our passions will die down without diffi-
culty. And though these eight faults of which
we have spoken are connected and joined
together in the way which we have shown, yet
they may be more exactly divided into four
groups and sub-divisions. For to gluttony
fornication is linked by a special tie: to cove-
tousness anger, to dejection accidie, and to
vainglory pride is closely allied.

CHAPTER XI.

Of the origin and character of each of these faults.

And now, to speak about each kind of
fault separately: of gluttony there are three
sorts: (i) that which drives a monk to eat
before the proper and stated times; (2) that
which cares about filling the belly and gor-
ging it with all kinds of food, and (3) that
which is on the lookout for dainties and
delicacies. And these three sorts give a monk
no little trouble, unless he tries to free him-
self from all of them with the same care and
scrupulousness. For just as one should never
venture to break one's fast before the right
time so we must utterly avoid all greediness
in eating, and the choice and dainty prepara-
tion of our food: for from these three causes
different but extremely dangerous conditions
of the soul arise. For from the first there
springs up dislike of the monastery, and
thence there grows up disgust and intolerance
of the life there, and this is sure to be soon
followed by withdrawal and speedy departure
from it. By the second there are kindled the
fiery darts of luxury and lasciviousness. The
third also weaves the entangling meshes of
covetousness for the nets of its prisoners, and
ever hinders monks from following the perfect
self-abnegation of Christ. And when there
are traces of this passion in us we can recog-
nize them by this; viz., if we are kept to
dine by one of the brethren we are not content
to eat our food with the relish which he has
prepared and offers to us, but take the unpar-

344

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donable liberty of asking to have something
else poured over it or added to it, a thing
which we should never do for three reasons :
(i) because the monastic mind ought always
to be accustomed to practise endurance and
abstinence, and like the Apostle, to learn to
be content in whatever state he is.' For one
who is upset by taking an unsavoury morsel
once and in a way, and who cannot even for
a short time overcome the delicacy of his
appetite will never succeed in curbing the
secret and more important desires of the
body; (2) because it sometimes happens that
at the time our host is out of that particular
thing which we ask for, and we make him
feel ashamed of the wants and bareness of
his table, by exposing his poverty which he
would rather was only known to God; (3)
because sometimes other people do not care
about the relish which we ask for, and so
it turns out that we are annoying most of
them while intent on satisfying the desires
of our own palate. And on this account
we must by all means avoid such a liberty.
Of fornication there are three sorts: (i)
that which is accomplished by sexual inter-
course; (2) that which takes place without
touching a woman, for which we read that
Onan the son of the patriarch Judah was
smitten by the Lord; and which is termed
by Scripture uncleanness : of which the
Apostle says: "But I say to the unmarried
and to widows, that it is good for them if
they abide even as I. But if they do not
contain let them marry: for it is better to
marry than to burn ; " " (3) that which is con-
ceived in heart and mind, of which the Lord
says in the gospel : " Whosoever looketh on a
woman to lust after her hath already com-
mitted adultery with her in his heart. "^ And
these three kinds the blessed Apostle tells
us must be stamped out in one and the same
way. "Mortify," says he, "your members
which are upon the earth, fornication, un-
cleanness, lust, etc." * And again of two of
them he says to the Ephesians: "Let forni-
cation and uncleanness be not so much as
named among you:" and once more: "But
know this that no fornicator or unclean person,
or covetous person who is an idolater hath
inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of
God."^ And just as these three must be
avoided by us with equal care, so they one
and all shut us out and exclude us equally
from the kingdom of Christ. Of covetousness
there are three kinds: (i) That which hinders

I Cf. Phil. iv. II.
4 I Cor. vii. 8, 9.
3 S. Matt. V. 28.

* Col. iii. 5.
» Eph. V. 3-5.

renunciants from allowing themselves to be
stripped of their goods and property; (2)
that which draws us to resume with excessive
eagerness the possession of those things
which we have given away and distributed to
the poor; (3) that which leads a man to covet
and procure what he never previously pos-
sessed. Of anger there are three kinds:
one which rages within, which is called in
Greek (ivuu;-^ another which breaks out in
word and deed and action, which they term
''?/»j : of which the Apostle speaks, saying
" But now do ye lay aside all anger and indig-
nation ;"'5 the third, which is not like those
in boiling over and being done with in an
hour, but which lasts for days and long
periods, which is called fiy\>'i;. And all
these three must be condemned by us with
equal horror. Of dejection there are two
kinds: one, that which springs up when
anger has died down, or is the result of some
loss we have incurred or of some purpose
which has been hindered and interfered with;
the other, that which comes from unreason-
able anxiety of mind or from despair. Of
accidie there are two kinds : one of which
sends those affected by it to sleep; while the
other makes them forsake their cell and flee
away. Of vainglory, although it takes various
forms and shapes, and is divided into differ-
ent classes, yet there are two main kinds:
(i) when we are puffed up about carnal
things and things visible, and (2) when we
are inflamed with the desire of vain praise for
things spiritual and unseen.

CHAPTER XIL

How vainglory may be useful to us.

But in one matter vainglory is found to be
a useful thing for beginners. I mean bv
those who are still troubled by carnal sins, as
for instance, if, when they are troubled by the
spirit of fornication, they formed an idea of
the dignity of the priesthood, or of reputation
among all men, by which they maybe thought
saints and immaculate: and so with these
considerations they repell the unclean sugges-
tions of lust, as deeming them base and at least
unworthy of their rank and reputation ; and
so by means of a smaller evil they overcome
a greater one. For it is better for a man to
be troubled by the sin of vainglory than for
him to fall into the desire for fornication,
from which he either cannot recover at all or
only with great difficulty after he has fallen.

6 Col. iii. 8.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

345

And this thought is admirably expressed by
one of the prophets speaking in the person of
God, and saying: " For My name's sake I will
remove I\Iy wrath afar off: and with My praise
I will bridle thee lest thou shouldest perish," ^
i.e., while you are enchained by the praises of
vainglory, you cannot possibly rush on into
the depths of hell, or plunge irrevocably into
the commission of deadly sins. Nor need we
wonder that this passion has the power of
checking anyone from rushing into the sin of
fornication, since it has been again and again
proved by many examples that when once a
man has been affected by its poison and
plague, it makes him utterly indefatigable, so
that he scarcely feels a fast of even two or
tliree days. And we have often known some
who are living in this desert, confessing that
when their home w^as in the monasteries of
Syria they could without difficulty go for five
days without food, while now they are so over-
come with hunger even by the third hour, that
they can scarcely keep on their daily fast to
the ninth hour. And on this subject there is
a very neat answer of Abbot Macarius ^ to one
who asked him why he was troubled with
hunger as early as the third hour in the desert,
when in the monastery he had often scorned
food for a whole week, without feeling hungry.
"Because," said he, "here there is nobody to
see your fast, and feed and support you with his
praise of you : but there you grew fat on the
notice of others and the food of vainglory."
And of the way in which, as we said, the
sin of fornication is prevented by an attack
of vainglory, there is an excellent and signifi-
cant figure in the book of Kings, where, when
the children of Israel had been taken captive
by Necho, King of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar,
King of Assyria, came up and brought them
back from the borders of Egypt to their own
country, not indeed meaning to restore them
to their former liberty and their native land,
but meaning to carry them off to his own
land and to transport them to a still more
distant country than the land of Egypt in
which they had been prisoners. And this
illustration exactly applies to the case before
us. For though there is less harm in yield-
ing to the sin of vainglory than to fornica-
tion, yet it is more difficult to escape from
the dominion of vainglory. For somehow or
other the prisoner who is carried off to a
greater distance, will have more difficulty in
returning to his native land and the freedom
of his fathers, and the prophet's rebuke will
be deservedly aimed at him: "^^'herefore art
thou grown old in a strange country? " ^ since

1 Is. xlviii. 9.

2 Cf. note on the Institutes V. xli.

! a man is rightly said to have grown old in a
! strange country, if he has not broken up the
ground of his faults. Of pride there are two
kinds: (i) carnal, and (2) spiritual, which
is the worse. For it especially attacks those
who are seen to have made progress in some
good qualities.

CHAPTER XIII.

Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us.

Although then these eight faults trouble
all sorts of men, yet they do not attack them
all in the same way. For in one man the
spirit of fornication holds the chief place :
wrath rides rough shod over another: over
another vainglory claims dominion: in an-
other pride holds the field : and though it
is clear that we are all attacked by all of
them, yet the difficulties come to each of us
in very different ways and manners.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults,
when they attack us. '

Wherefore we must enter the lists against
these faults in such a way that every one
should discover his besetting sin, and direct
his main attack against it, directing all his
care and watchfulness of mind to guard
against its assault, directing against it daily
the weapons of fasting, and at all times hurl-
ing against it the constant darts of sighs and
groanings from the heart, and employing
against it the labours of vigils and the medi-
tation of the heart, and further pouring forth
to God constant tears and prayers and contin-
ually and expressly praying to be delivered
from its attack. For it is impossible for a
man to win a triumph over any kind of pas-
sion, unless he has first clearly understood
that he cannot possibly gain the victory in
the struggle with it by his own strength and
efforts, although in order that he may be ren-
dered pure he must night and day persist in
the utmost care and watchfulness. And even
when he feels that he has got rid of this fault,
he should still search the inmost recesses of
his heart with the same purpose, and single
out the worst fault which he can see among
those still there, and bring all the forces of
the Spirit to bear against it in particular, and

3 Baruch iii. ii.

346

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

so by always overcoming the stronger pas-
sions, he will gain a quick and easy victory
over the rest, because by a course of triumphs
the soul is made more vigorous, and the fact
that the next conflict is with weaker passion
insures him a readier success in the struggle:
as is generally the case with those who are
wont to face all kinds of wild beasts in the
presence of the kings of this world, out of
consideration for the rewards — a kind of
spectacle which is generally called "pancar-

CHAPTER XV.

How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of
God, and how we should not be puffed up by victories over

pus."i Such men, I say, direct their first
assault against whatever beasts they see to be
the strongest and fiercest, and when they have
despatched these, then they can more easily
lay low the remaining ones, which are not so
terrible and powerful. So too, by always
overcoming the stronger passions, as weaker
ones take their place, a perfect victory will
be secured for us without any risk. Nor need
we imagine that if any one grapples with one
fault in particular, and seems too careless
about guarding against the attacks of others,
he will be easily wounded by a sudden assault,
for this cannot possibly happen. For where
a man is anxious to cleanse his heart, and has
steeled his heart's purpose against the attack
of any one fault, it is impossible for him not
to have a general dread of all other faults as
well, and take similar care of them. For if
a man renders himself unworthy of the prize
of purity by contaminating himself with other
faults, how can he possibly succeed in gaining
the victory over that one passion from which
he is longing to be freed .? But when the main
purpose of our heart has singled out one pas-
sion as the special object of its attack, we
shall pray about it more earnestly, and with
special anxiety and fervour shall entreat that
we may be more especially on our guard
against it and so succeed in gaining a speedy
victory. For the giver of the law himself
teaches us that we ought to follow this plan
in our conflicts and not to trust in our own
power; as he says: "Thou shalt not fear them
because the Lord thy God is in the midst of
thee, a God mighty and terrible : He will con-
sume these nations in thy sight by little and
little and by degrees. Thou wilt not be able
to destroy them altogether : lest perhaps the
beasts of the earth should increase upon thee.
But the Lord thy God shall deliver them in

_ And that we ought not to be puffed up by
victories over them he likewise charges us ; say-
ing, " Lest after thou hast eaten and art filled,
hast built goodly houses and dwelt in them,'
and shalt have herds of oxen and flocks of
sheep, and plenty of gold and of silver, and
of all things, thy heart be lifted up and thou
remember not the Lord thy God, who broucrht
thee out of the land of Egypt, out of tlie
house of bondage; and was thy leader in the
great and terrible wilderness." ^ Solomon
also says in Proverbs: "When thine enemy
shall fall be not glad, and in his ruin be not
lifted up, lest the Lord see and it displease
Him, and He turn away His wrath from him, " *
I.e., lest He see thy pride of heart, and cease
from attacking him, and thou begin to be for-
saken by Him and so once more to be troubled
by that passion which by God's grace thou
hadst previously overcome. For the prophet
would not have prayed in these words, " Deliver
not up to beasts, O Lord, the soul that con-
fesseth to Thee,"^ unless he had known that
because of their pride of heart some were given
over again to those faults which thev had over-
come, in order that they might be' humbled.
Wherefore it is well for us both to be certified
by actual experience, and also to be instructed
by countless passages of Scripture, that we
cannot possibly overcome such mighty foes in
our own strength, and unless supported by
the aid of God alone; and that we ought
always to refer the whole of our victory each
day to God Himself, as the Lord Himself also
gives us instruction by Moses on this very
point: "Say not in thine heart when the Lord
thy God shall have destroyed them in thy sight :
For my righteousness hath the Lord brought me
in to possess this land, whereas these nations
are destroyed for their wickedness. For it is
not for thy righteousness, and the uprightness
of thine heart, that thou shalt go in to possess
their lands: but because they have done
wickedly they are destroyed at thv comino-

thy sight; and shall slay them until they be
utterly destroyed. ''■ ^

Pancarpus (nayKapTro';). The word was originally applied to
an offering of all kinds of fruit. Cf. Tertullian ad Valentf xii It
is also used in tlie general sense " of all sorts " by Augustine, Adv.
Secund. xxiii. Cassiaii here sjieaks as if it had become the popular
name for the conflicts of gladiators with all kinds of beasts, though
there is apparently no other authority for this.
' Deut. vii. 21-23.

I ask what could be said clearer in op-
position to that impious notion and imperti-
nence of ours, in which we want to ascribe
everything that we do to our own free will and
our own exertions? " Say not," he tells us, "in
thine heart, when the Lord thy God shall
have destroyed them in thy sight: For my

^ Deut. viii. 12-15.

* Prov. xxiv. 17, i8(LXX.).

•• Ps. Ixxiii. (Ixxiv.) 19.
" Deut. ix. 4, 5.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

347

righteousness the Lord hath brought me in to
possess this land." To those who have their
eyes opened and their ears ready to hearken
does not this plainly say: When your struggle
with carnal faults has gone well for you, and
you see that you are free from the filth of
them, and from the fashions of this world,
do not be puffed up by the success of the
conflict and victory and ascribe it to your own
power and wisdom, nor fancy that you have
gained the victory over spiritual wickedness
and carnal sins through your own exertions and
energy, and free will? For there is no doubt
that in all this you could not possibly have
succeeded, unless you had been fortified and
protected by the help of the Lord.

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands Israel
toolc possession, and the reason why they are sometimes
spoken of as " seven," and sometimes as " many."

These are the seven nations whose lands
the Lord promised to give to the children of
Israel when they came out of Egypt. And
everything which, as the Apostle says, hap-
pened to them '" in a figure " ^ we ought to take
as written for our correction. For so we
read: "When the Lord thy God shall have
brought thee into the land, which thou art
going in to possess, and shall have destroyed
many nations before thee, the Hittite, and the
Girgashites, and the Amorite, the Canaanite,
and the Perizzite, andthe Hivite, andthejebu-
site, seven nations much more numerous than
thou art and much stronger than thou : and the
Lord thy God shall have delivered them to
thee, thou shalt utterly destroy them." - And
the reason that they are said to be much more
numerous, is that faults are many more in
number than virtues and so in the list of
them the nations are reckoned as seven in
number, but when the attack upon them is
spoken of they are set down without their
number being given, for thus we read " And
shall have destroyed many nations before
tMee." For the race of carnal passions which
springs from this sevenfold incentive and I
root of sin, is more numerous than that of j
Israel. For thence spring up murders, strifes,
heresies, thefts, false witness, blasphemy, sur-
feiting, drunkenness, back-biting, buffoon-
ery, filthy conversation, lies, perjury, foolish
talking, scurrility, restlessness, greediness,
bitterness, clamour, wrath, contempt, mur-
muring, temptation, despair, and many other

faults, which it would take too long to de-
scribe. And if we are inclined to think these
small matters, let us hear what the Apostle
thought about them, and what was his opinion
of them: "Neither murmur ye," says he, "as
some of them murmured, and were destroyed
of the destroyer : " and of temptation : " Neither
let us tempt Christ as some of them tempted
and perished by the serpents."^ Of back-
biting: "Love not backbiting lest thou be
rooted out. " * And of despair : " \^■ho despair-
ing have given themselves up to lascivious-
ness unto the working of all error, in
uncleanness." ^ And that clamour is con-
demned as well as anger and indignation and
blasphemy, the words of the same Apostle
teach us as clearly as possible when he thus
charges us: "Let all bitterness, and anger,
and indignation, and clamour, and blasphemy
be put away from you with all malice,'' ** and
many more things like these. And though
these are far more numerous than the virtues
are, yet if those eight principal sins, from
which we know that these naturally proceed,
are first overcome, all these at once sink down,
and are destroyed together with them with
a lasting destruction. For from gluttony
proceed surfeiting and drunkenness. From
fornication filthy conversation, scurrility, buf-
foonery and foolish talking. From covet-
ousness, lying, deceit, theft, perjury, the
desire of filthy lucre, false witness, violence,
inhumanity, and greed. From anger, murders,
clamour and indignation. From dejection,
rancor, cowardice, bitterness, despair. PYom
accidie, laziness, sleepiness, rudeness, rest-
lessness, wandering about, instability both of
mind and body, chattering, inquisitiveness.
From vainglory, contention, heresies, boast-
ing and confidence in novelties. From pride,
contempt, envy, disobedience, blasphemy,
murmuring, backbiting. And that all these
plagues are stronger than we, we can tell very
plainly from the way in which they attack us.
For the delight in carnal passions wars more
powerfully in our members than does the
desire for virtue, which is only gained with
the greatest contrition of heart and body.
But if you will only gaze with the eyes of the
spirit on those countless hosts of our foes,
which the Apostle enumerates where he says :
" For we wrestle not against flesh and blood,
but against principalities, against powers,
against the world-rulers of this darkness,
against spiritual wickedness in heavenly
places," ^ and this which we find of the right-

1 Cf. I Cor. X. 6.

* Deut. vii. i, 2.

' I Cor. X. 9, 10.

* Prov. XX. i3(LXX.).

' Eph. iv. 19.

^ Eph. iv. 31.
' Ibid., iv. 12.

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

eous man in the nineteenth Psalm: "A thou-
sand shall fall beside thee and ten thousand
at thy right hand," ^ then you will clearly see
that they are far more numerous and more
powerful than are we, carnal and earthly crea-
tures as we are, while to them is given a
substance which is spiritual and incorporeal.

CHAPTER XVII.

A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations
with eight faults.

Germanus : How then is it that there are
eight faults which assault us, when Moses
reckons the nations opposed to the people of
Israel as seven, and how is it well for us to
take possession of the territory of our faults ?

CHAPTER XVIII.

The answer how the number of eight nations is made up in
accordance with the eight faults.

Serapion: Everybody is perfectly agreed
that there are eight principal faults which
affect a monk. And all of them are not in-
cluded in the figure of the nations for this
reason, because in Deuteronomy Moses, or
rather the Lord through him, was speaking to
those who had already gone forth from Egypt
and been set free from one most powerful
nation, I mean that of the Egyptians. And
we find that this figure holds good also in our
case, as when we have got clear of the snares
of this world we are found to be free from
gluttony, i.e., the sin of the belly and palate;
and like them we have a conflict against these

taking

seven remaining nations, without
account at all of the one which has been
already overcome. And the land of this
nation was not given to Israel for a possession,
but the command of the Lord ordained that
they should at once forsake it and go forth
from it. And for this cause our fasts ought
to be made moderate, that there may be no
need for us through excessive abstinence,
which results from weakness of the flesh and
infirmity, to return again to the land of Egypt,
i.e., to our former greed and carnal lust which
we forsook when we made our renunciation
of this world. And this has happened in a
figure, in those who after having gone forth
into the desert of virtue again hanker after the
flesh pots over which they sat in Egypt.

' Ps. xc. (xci.) 7.

CHAPTER XIX.

The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are
commanded to be destroyed.

But the reason why that nation in which
the children of Israel were born, was bidden
not to be utterly destroyed but only to have its
land forsaken, while it was commanded that
these seven nations were to be completely
destroyed, is this: because however great may
be the ardour of spirit, inspired by which we
have entered on the desert of virtues, yet we
cannot possibly free ourselves- entirely from
the neighbourhood of gluttony or from its
service and, so to speak, from daily inter-
course with it. For the liking for delicacies
and dainties will live on as something natural
and innate in us, even though we take pains
to cut off all superfluous appetites and
desires, which, as they cannot be altogether
destroyed, ought to be shunned and avoided.
For of these we read "Take no care for the
flesh with its desires." ^ While then we still
retain the feeling for this care, which we are
bidden not altogether to cut off, but to keep
without its desires, it is clear that we do not
destroy the Egyptian nation but separate our-
selves in a sort of way from it, not thinking
anything about luxuries and delicate feasts,
but, as the Apostle says, being " content with
our daily food and clothing."^ And this is
commanded in a figure in the law, in this
way: "Thou shalt not abhor the Egyptian,
because thou wast a stranger in his land."*
For necessary food is not refused to the body
without danger to it and sinfulness in the
soul. But of those seven troublesome faults
we must in every possible way root out the
affections from the inmost recesses of our
souls. For of them we read: "Let all bitter-
ness and anger and indignation and clamour
and blasphemy be put away from you with all
malice:" and again: "But fornication und
all uncleanness and covetousness let it not so
much as be named among you, or obscenity or
foolish talking or scurrility."^ We can then
cut out the roots of these faults which are
grafted into our nature from without whiJe
we cannot possibly cut off occasions of glut-
tony. For however far we have advanced,
we cannot help being what we were born.
And that this is so we can show not only from
the lives of little people like ourselves but
from the lives and customs of all who have
attained perfection, who even when they have

- Rom. xiii. 14.
2 Cf. I Tim. vi. 8.

* Deut. xxiii. 7.

» Eph. iv. 31; V. 3, 4-

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.

349

got rid of incentives to all other passions, and
are retiring to the desert with perfect fervour
of spirit nnd bodily abnegation, yet still can-
not do without thought for tlicir daily meal
and the preparation of their food from year to
year.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the
simile of the eagle.

An admirable illustration of this passion,
with which a monk, however spiritual and
excellent, is sure to be hampered, is found in
the simile of the eagle. For this bird when
in its flight on high it has soared above the
highest clouds, and has withdrawn itself from
the eyes of all mortals and from the face of
the whole earth, is yet compelled by the needs
of the belly to drop down and descend to the
earth and feed upon carrion and dead bodies.
And this clearly shows that the spirit of glut-
tony cannot be altogether extirpated like all
other faults, nor be entirely destroyed like
them, but that w^e can only hold down and
check by the power of the mind all incentives
to it and all superfluous appetites.

CHAPTER XXI.

Of the lasting character of gluttony as described to some
philosophers.

For the nature of this fault was admirably
expressed under cover of the following puzzle
by one of the Elders in a discussion with
some philosophers, who thought that they
might chaff him like a country bumpkin
because of his Christian simplicity. " My
father, " said he, " left me in the clutches of a
great many creditors. All the others I have
paid in full, and have freed mj^self from all
their pressing claims ; but one I cannot satisfy
even by a daily payment." And when they
could not see the meaning of the puzzle, and
urgently begged him to explain it: "I was,"
said he, " in my natural condition, encompassed
by a great many faults. But when God in-
spired me with the longing to be free, I
renounced this world, and at the same time
gave up all my property which I had inherited
from my father, and so I satisfied them all
like pressing creditors, and freed myself
entirely from them. But I was never able
altogether to get rid of the incentives to glut-
tony. For though I reduce the quantity of
food which I take to the smallest possible
amount, yet I cannot avoid the force of its
daily solicitations, but must be perpetually

'dunned' by it, and be making as it were in-
terminable payments by continually satisfying
it, and pay never ending toll at its demand."
Then they declared that this man, whom they
had till now despised as a booby and a country
bumpkin, had thoroughly grasped the first
principles of philosophy, i.e., training in
ethics, and they marvelled that he could by
the light of nature have learnt that which no
schooling in this world could have taught
him, while they themselves with all their
efforts and long course of training had not
learnt this. This is enough on gluttony in
particular. Now let us return to the discourse
in which we had begun to consider the general
relation of our faults to each other.

CHAPTER XXH.

How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would
have to drive out ten nations.

When the Lord was speaking with Abraham
about the future (a point which you did not
ask about) w'e find that He did not enumerate
seven nations, but ten, whose land He
promised to give to his seed. -^ And this
number is plainly made up by adding idolatry,
and blasphemy, to whose dominion, before the
knowledge of God and the grace of Baptism,
both the irreligious hosts of the Gentiles and
blasphemous ones of the Jews were subject,
while they dwelt in a spiritual Egypt. But
when a man has made his renunciation and
come forth from thence, and having by God's
grace conquered gluttony, has come into the
spiritual wilderness, then he is free from the
attacks of these three, and will only have to
wage war against those seven which Moses
enumerates.

CHAPTER XXHI.

How it is useful for us to take possession of their lands.

But the fact that we are bidden for our good
to take possession of the countries of those
most wicked nations, may be understood in
this way. Each fault has its own especial corner
in the heart, which it claims for itself in the
recesses of the soul, and drives out Israel,
i.e., the contemplation of holy and heavenly
things, and never ceases to oppose them. For
virtues cannot possibly live side by side with
faults. "For what participation hath right-
eousness with unrighteousness? Or what fel-
lowship hath light with darkness? "2 But as

' Cf. Gen. XV. 18-21.

2 2 Cor. vi. 14.

350

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

soon as these faults have been overcome by
the people of Israel, i.e., by those virtues
which war against them, then at once the
place in our heart which the spirit of concu-
piscence and fornication had occupied, will
be filled by chastity. That which wrath had
held, will be claimed by patience. That
which had been occupied by a sorrow that
worketh death, will be taken by a godly sor-
row and one full of joy. That which had
been wasted by accidie, will at once be
tilled by courage. That which pride had
trodden down will be ennobled by humility:
and so when each of these faults has been
expelled, their places (that is the tendency
towards them) will be filled by the opposite
virtues which are aptly termed the children of
Israel, that is, of the soul that seeth God : ^
and when these have expelled all passions
from the heart we may believe that they have
recovered their own possessions rather than
invaded those of others.

CHAPTER XXIV.

How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled, had
been assigned to the seed of Shem.

For, as an ancient tradition tells us,^ these
same lands of the Canaanites into which the
children of Israel were brought, had been
formerly allotted to the children of Shem at
the division of the Avorld, and afterward the
descendants of Ham wickedly invading them
with force and violence took possession of
them. And in this the righteous judgment of
God is shown, as He expelled from the land
of others these who had wrongfully taken
possession of them, and restored to those
others the ancient property of their fathers
which had been assigned to their ancestors at
the division of the world. And we can per-
fectly well see that this figure holds good in
our own case. For by nature God's will
assigned the possession of our heart not to
vices but to virtues, which, after the fall of
Adam were driven out from their own country
by the sins which grew up, i.e., by the Canaan-
ites; and so when by God's grace they are by
our efforts and labour restored again to it, we
may hold that they have not occupied the
territory of another, but rather have recovered
their own country.

' Cf. the note on "Against Nestorius " VII. ix.

^ The "ancient trndition " to wliich Cassian here alludes is
given in the Clementine Recocnitions I. xxix., xxx. ; and in
Epiphanius "Heresies," c. Ixvi. §"^3,^., where it is given as an
answer to the Manicha^nn objection against the cruelty and injustice
of the extermination of the Canaanites by tlie Israelites.

CHAPTER XXV.

Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight

faults.

And in reference to these eight faults we
also have the following in the gospel : " But
when the unclean spirit is gone out from a
man, he walketh through dry places seeking
rest and findeth none. Then he saith, I will
return to my house from whence I came out:
and coming he findeth it empty, swept, and
garnished : then he goeth and taketh seven
other spirits worse than himself, and they
enter in and dwell there : and the last state of
that man is made worse than the first. "^ Lo,
just as in the former passages we read of
seven nations besides that of the Egyptians
from which the children of Israel had gone
forth, so here too seven unclean spirits are
said to return beside that one which we first
hear of as going forth from the man. And
of this sevenfold incentive of sins Solomon
gives the following account in Proverbs: "If
thine enemy speak loud to thee, do not agree
to him because there are seven mischiefs in
his heart;"* i.e., if the spirit of gluttony is
overcome and begins to flatter you with having
humiliated it, asking in a sort of way that
you would relax something of the fervour with
which you began, and yield to it something
beyond what the due limits of abstinence, and
measure of strict severity would allow, do not
you be overcome by its submission, nor return
in fancied security from its assaults, as you
seem to have become for a time freed from
carnal desires, to your previous state of care-
lessness or former liking for good things.
For through this the spirit whom you have
vanquished is saying "I will return to my
house from whence I came out," and forthwith
the seven spirits of sins which proceed from
it will prove to you more injurious than that
passion which in the first instance you over-
came, and will presently drag you down to
worse kinds of sins.

CHAPTER XXVI.

How when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony
we must take pains to gain all the other virtues.

Wherefore while we are practising fasting
and abstinence, we must be careful when we
have got the better of the passion of gluttony
never to allow our mind to remain empty of
the virtues of which we stand in need; but

'' S. Matt. xii. 43-45.

^ Prov. xxvi. 25. (Ixx.).

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.

351

we should the more earnestly fill the inmost
recesses of our heart with them for fear lest
the spirit of concupiscence should return and
find us empty and void of them, and should
not be content to secure an entrance there for
himself alone, but should bring in with him
into our heart this sevenfold incentive of sins
and make our last state Avorse than the first.
For the soul which boasts that it has re-
nounced this world with the eight faults that
hold sway over it, will afterwards be fouler
and more unclean and visited with severer
punishments, than it was when formerly it
was at home in the world, when it had taken
upon itself neither the rules nor the name of
monk. For these seven spirits are said to be
worse than the first which went forth, for this
reason; because the love of good things, i.e.,
gluttony would not be in itself harmful, were
it not that it opened the door to other pas-
sions; viz, to fornication, covetousness,
anger, dejection, and pride, which are
clearly hurtful in themselves to the soul, and
domineering over it. And therefore a man
will never be able to gain perfect purity, if he
hopes to secure it by means of abstinence
alone, i.e., bodily fasting, unless he knows
that he ought to practise it for this reason
that when the flesh is brought low by means
of fasting, he may with greater ease enter the
lists against other faults, as the flesh has not
been habituated to gluttony and surfeiting.

CHAPTER XXVII.

That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same
order as tliat in which they stand in the hst.

But you must know that our battles are not
all fought in the same order, because, as we
mentioned that the attacks are not always
made on us in the same way, each one of us
ought also to begin the battle with due regard
to the character of the attack which is espe-
cially made on him so that one man will have
to fight his first battle against the fault which
stands third on the list, another against that
which is fourth or fifth. And in proportion
as faults hold sway over us, and the character
of their attack may demand, so we too ought
to regulate the order of our conflict, in such a
way that the happy result of a victory and
triumph succeeding may insure our attain-
ment of purity of heart and complete per-
fection.

Thus far did Abbot Serapion discourse to us
of the nature of the eight principal faults, and
so clearly did he expound the different sorts
of passions which are latent within us — the
origin and connexion of which, though we
were daily tormented by them, we could never
before thoroughly understand and perceive —
that we seemed almost to see them spread out
before our eyes as in a mirror.

VI.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.^

OiV THE DEATH OF THE SAINTS.

CHAPTER I.

Description of the wilderness, and the question about the

death of tlie saints.

In the district of Palestine near the village
of Tekoa which had the honour of producing
the prophet Amos, 2 there is a vast desert
which stretches far and wide as far as Arabia
and the dead sea, into which the streams of
Jordan enter and are lost, and where are the
ashes of Sodom. In this district there lived

' This Abbot Theodore is probably the same person as the one
mentioned in the Institutes, Book V. cc. xxxiii.-xxxv. ; bnt nothing
finther is known of him, and there is no reason for identifying him
with any of the other monks of this name of the fourth century.

* Cf. Amos i. I.

for a long while monks of the most perfect
life and holiness, who were suddenly de-
stroyed by an incursion of Saracen robbers:^
whose bodies we knew were seized upon with
the greatest veneration'* both by the E>ishops of
the neighbourhood and by the whole populace

3 Saraceni (SapaKTjvoo) : a name given by the classical geographers
to a tribe of Arabia Felix, famous for its predatory propensities.
Jerome speaks of tlie " moiis et desertum Saracenorum quod vocatur
Pharan " (Liber de situ et nominibus sub voce Choreb) and elsewhere
describes their predatory habits (Liber Heb. Qua;st in Genesim)
" Saracenos vagos . . . qui universas gentes . . . incursant." By
the seventh century the name had become a merely general term
equivalent to Arab, and was accordingly adopted and applied indiffer-
ently to all the followers of Mohammed by the writers of the middle
ages (cf. the Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, sub
voce).

* There is no mention nf these martyrs in the so-called Martyro-
logium Hieronymianum, but they are commemorated on May 28, in
the Roman Martyrology.

352

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of Arabia, and deposited among the relics of I
the martyrs, so that swarms of people from
two towns met, and made terrible war upon
each other, and in their struggle actually came |
to blows for the possession of the holy spoil,
while they strove among themselves with
pious zeal as to which of them had the better
claim to bury them and keep their relics — the
one party boasting of their vicinity to the
place of their abode, the other of tlje fact .that
they were near the place of their birth. But
we were upset by this and being disturbed
either on our own account or on account of
some of the brethren who were in no small
degree scandalized at it, inquired why men of
such illustrious merits and of so great virtues
should be thus slain by robbers, and why the
Lord permitted such a crime to be committed
against his servants, so as to give up into the
hands of wicked men those who were the ad-
miration of everybody: and so in our grief we
came to the holy Theodore, a man who ex-
celled' in practical common sense. For he
was living in Cell£e,^aplace that lies between
Nitria and Scete, and is five miles distant
from the monasteries of Nitria, and cut off by
eighty intervening miles of desert from the
wilderness of Scete where we were living.
And when we had made our complaint to him
about the d(iath of the men mentioned above,
and expressed our surprise at the great
patience of God, because He suffered men of
such worth to be killed in this way, so that
those who ought to be able by the weight of
their sanctity to deliver others from trials of
this kind, could not save themselves from the
hands of wicked men (and asked) why it was
that God allowed so great a crime to be com-
mitted against his servants, then the blessed
Theodore replied.

CHAPTER 11.

Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him.

This question often exercises the minds of
those who have not much faith or knowledge,
and imagine that the prizes and rewards of
the saints (which are not given in this world,
but laid up for the future) are bestowed in the

^ Cellre, which was, according to the p.issage before us, between
the deserts of Scete and Nitria, apparently derived its name from
the cells of the monks who congregated there. This at least is the
explanation of the n.ime given by Sozomen (H. E. VI. .xxxi.) who
speaks of a region called xeAAia, throughout which numerous little
dwellings (oi/ojuaTa) are dispersed, whence it obtains its name.
Sozomen also speaks (c. xxix.) of Macarius as priest of Cells, a
fact which gives some ground for conjecturing that Cella; may be
identified with Dair Abu Makar, one of the four monasteries still
existing in the deserts of Nitria and Scete, prol)ably founded l)y the
saint whose name it bears (Macarius). See A. J. Butler's" Coptic
Churches of Egypt," vol. i. c. vii.

short space of this mortal life. But we whose
hope in Christ is not only in this life, for fear
lest, as the Apostle says, we should be "of all
men most miserable " ^ (because as we receive
none of the promises in this world we should
for our unbelief lose them also in that to
come) ought not WTongly to follow their ideas,
lest through ignorance of the true real expla-
nation, we should hesitate and tremble and
fail in temptation, if we find ourselves given
up to such men ; and should ascribe to God
injustice or carelessness about the affairs of
mankind — a thing which it is almost a sin
to mention — • because He does not protect in
their temptations men who are living an up-
right and holy life, nor requite good men
with good things and evil men with evil things
in this world ; and so we should deserve to fall
under the condemnation of those whom the
prophet Zephaniah rebukes, saying "who say
in their hearts the Lord will not do good, nor
will He do evil : " ^ or at least be found among
those of whom we are told that they blaspheme
God with such complaints as this : " Every one
that doeth evil is good in the sight of the
Lord, and such please Him: for surely where
is the God of judgment ? "^ Adding further
that blasphemy which is described in the
same way in what follows: " He laboureth in
vain that serveth God, and what profit is it
that we have kept His ordinances, and walked
sorrowful before the Lord? Wherefore now
we call the proud happy, for they that work
wickedness are enriched, and they have
tempted God, and are preserved. " ^ Where-
fore that we may avoid this ignorance which
is the root and cause of this most deadly
error, we ought in the first place to know
what is really good, and what is bad, and so
finally if we grasp the true scriptural meaning
of these words, and not the false popular one,
we shall escape being deceived by the errors
of unbelievers.

. CHAPTER HI.

Of the three kinds of thinjjs there are in the world ; viz., good
bad, and indifferent.

Altogether there are three kinds of things
in the world; viz., good, bad, and indifferent.
And so we ought to know what is properly
good, and what is bad, and what is indiffer-
ent, that our faith may be supported by true
knowledge and stand firm in all temptations.
We must then believe that in things which

- I Cor. XV. 19.
' Zeph. i. 12.

* Mai. ii. 17.
<• Mai. iii. 14, 15.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.

353

are merely human there is no real good except
virtue of soul alone, which leads us with un-
feigned faith to things divine, and makes us
constantly adhere to that unchanging good.
And on the other hand we ought not to call
anything bad, except sin alone, which sepa-
rates us from the good God, and unites us to
the evil devil. But those things are indiffer-
ent which can be appropriated to either side
according to the fancy or wish of their owner,
as for instance riches, power, honour, bodily
strength, good health, beauty, life itself, and
death, poverty, bodily infirmities, injuries,
and other things of the same sort, which can
contribute either to good or to evil as the
character and fancy of their owner directs.
For riches are often serviceable for our good,
as the Apostle says, who charges " the rich of
this world to be ready to give, to distribute \
to the needy, to lay up in store for themselves
a good foundation against the time to come,
that" by this means "they may lay hold on the
true life." ^ And according to the gospel they
are a good thing for those who '" make to them-
selves friends of the unrighteous mammon."^
And again, they can be drawn in the direction
of what is bad when they are amassed only
for the sake of hoarding them or for a life of
luxury, and are not employed to meet the
wants of the poor. And that power also and
honour and bodily strength and good health
are indifferent and available for either (good
or bad) can easily be shown from the fact that
many of the Old Testament saints enjoyed
all these things and were in positions of great
wealth and the highest honour, and blessed
with bodily strength, and yet are known to
have been most acceptable to God. And on
the contrary those who have wrongfully abused
these things and perverted them for their own
purposes are not without good reason pun-
ished or destroyed, as the Book of Kings
shows us has often happened. And that even
life and death are in themselves indifferent
the birth of S. John and of Judas proves.
For in the case of the one his life was so
profitable to himself that we are told that his
birth brought joy to others also, as we read
" And many shall rejoice at his birth ; " ^ but of
the life of the other it is said: "It were good
for that man if he had never been born. "^
Further it is said of the death of John and of
all saints." Right dear in the sight of the Lord
is the death of His saints: " ^ but of that of
Judas and men like him "The death of the
wicked is very evil. ' ' ^ And how useful bodily

^ I Tim. vi. 17-19.

2 S. Luke xvi. g.

3 S. Luke i. 14.

sickness sometimes may be the blessing on
Lazarus, the beggar who was full of sores,
shows us. For Scripture makes mention of
no other good qualities or deserts of his, but
it was for this fact alone; viz., that he endured
want and bodily sickness with the utmost
patience, that he was deemed worthy of the
blessed lot of a place in Abraham's bosom.'
And with regard to want and persecution and
injuries which everybody thinks to be bad, how
useful and necessary they are is clearly proved
by this fact; viz., that the saints not only
never tried to avoid them, but actually either
sought them with all their powers or bravely
endured them, and thus became the friends of
God, and obtained the reward of eternal life,
as the blessed Apostle chants: "For which
cause I delight myself in my infirmities, in
reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in
distresses for Christ. For when I am weak,
then I am strong, for power is made perfect in
infirmity."* And therefore those who are
exalted with the greatest riches and honours
and powers of this world, should not be
deemed to have secured their chief good out
of them (for this is shown to consist only in
virtue) but only something indifferent, because
just as to good men who use them well and
properly they will be found to be useful and
convenient (for they affowljhem opportunities
for good works and fruits wHlCh-^-shall endure
to eternal life), so to those who Wrongfully
abuse their wealth, they are useless and out
of place, and furnish occasions of sin and
death.

CHAPTER IV.

How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against
his will.

Preserving then these distinctions clear
and fixed, and knowing that there is nothing
good except virtue alone, and nothing bad
except sin alone and separation from God, let
us now carefully consider whether God ever
allows evil to be forced on his saints either
by Himself or by some one else. And you
will certainly find that this never happens.
For another can never possibly force the evil
of sin upon anyone, who does not consent and
who resists, but only on one who admits it
into himself through sloth and the corrupt
desire of his heart. Finally, when the devil
having exhausted all his wicked devices had
tried to force upon the blessed Job this evil of
sin, and had not only stripped him of all his
worldly goods, but also after that terrible and

* S. Matt. xxvi. 24.

s Ps. cxv. 6 (cxvi. 15).

* Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 32.

1 CI. S. Luke xvi. 20.

* 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10.

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utterly unlocked for calamity of bereavement
through the death of his seven children, had
heaped upon him dreadful wounds and intol-
erable tortures from the crown of his head to
the sole of his foot, he tried in vain to fasten
on him the stain of sin, because he remained
steadfast through it all, never brought him-
self to consent to blasphemy.

CHAPTER V.

An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil.

Germanus: We often read in holy Scrip-
ture that God has created evil or brought it
upon men, as is this passage: "There is none
beside Me. I am the Lord, and there is none
else : I form the light and create darkness, I
make peace, and create evil." ^ And again:
"Shall there be evil in a city which the Lord
hath not done ? " ^

CHAPTER VI.

The answer to the question proposed.

Theodore: Sometimes holy Scripture is
wont by an improper use of terms to use
" evils " for " affliction ; " not that these are
properly and in their nature evils, but because
they are imagined to be evils by those on whom
they are brought for their good. For when
divine judgment is reasoning with men it
must speak with the language and feelings of
men. For when a doctor for the sake of
health with good reason either cuts or cauter-
izes those who are suffering from the intiam-
mation of ulcers, it is considered an evil by
those who have to bear it. Nor are the spur
and the whip pleasant to a restive horse.
Moreover all chastisement seems at the
moment to be a bitter thing to those who
are chastised, as the Apostle says : ".Now all
chastisement for the present indeed seemeth
not to bring with it joy but sorrow; but after-
wards it will yield to them that are exercised
by it most peaceable fruits of righteousness,"
and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth,
and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth :
for what son is there whom the father doth
not correct ?" ^ And so evils are sometimes
wont to stand for afflictions, as where we
read: "And God repented of the evil which
He had said that He would do to them and

^ Is. xlv. 6, 7.

- Amos iii. 6.

3 Hcb. xii. 6-11.

He did it not." ^ And again : " For Thou, Lord,
are gracious and merciful, patient and very
merciful and ready to repent of the evil," ^ i.e.,
of the sufferings and losses which Thou art
forced to bring upon us as the reward of our
sins. And another prophet, knowing that these
are profitable to some men, and certainly not
through any jealousy of their safety, but with
an eye to their good, prays thus: "Add evils
to them, O Lord, add evils to the haughty
ones of the earth;"® and the Lord Himself
says"Lo, I will bring evils upon them," '^ i.e.,
sorrows, and losses, with which they shall
for the present be chastened for their soul's
health, and so shall be at length driven to
return and hasten back to Me whom in their
prosperity they scorned. And so that these
are originally evil we cannot possibly assert:
for to many they conduce to their good and
offer the occasions of eternal bliss, and
therefore (to return to the question raised)
all those things, which are thought to be
brought upon us as evils by our enemies or
by any other people, should not be counted as
evils, but as things indifferent. For in the
end they will not be what he thinks, who
brought them upon us in his rage and fury,
but what he makes them who endures them.
And so when death has been brought upon a
saint, we ought not to think that an evil has
happened to him but a thing indifferent;
which is an evil to a wicked man, while to
the good it is rest and freedom from evils.
" For death is rest to a man whose way is
hidden." * And so a good man does not suffer
any loss from it, because he suffers nothing
strange, but by the crime of an enemy he
only receives (and not without the reward of
eternal life) that which would have happened
to him in the course of nature, and pays the
debt of man's death, which must be paid by
an inevitable law, with the interest of a most
fruitful passion, and the recompense of a
great reward.

CHAPTER VIL

A question whether the man who causes the death of a good
man is guilty, if the good man is the gainer by his death.

Germanus : Well then, if a good man does
not only suffer no evil by being killed, but
actually gains a reward from his suffering,
how can we accuse the man who has done
him no harm but good by killing him?

< Jonah iii. 10 (LXX.).
0 loel ii. 13 (LXX).
6 is. xxvi. 15 (LXX).

1 Jer. xi. II.

8 Job iii. 23 (LXX.).

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.

355

CHAPTER VIII.

The answer to the foregoing question.

Theodore : We are talking about the actual
qualities of things good and bad, and what
we call indifferent; and not about the charac-
ters of the men who do these things. Nor
ought any bad or wicked man to go unpun-
ished .because his evil deed was not able to
do harm to a good man. For the endurance
and goodness of a righteous man are of no
profit to the man who is the cause of his
death or suffering, but only to him who
patiently endures what is indicted on him.
And so the one is justly punished for his
savage cruelty, because he meant to injure
him, while the other nevertheless suffers no
evil, because in the goodness of his heart he
patiently endures his temptation and suffer-
ings, and so causes all those things, which
were inflicted upon him with evil intent, to
turn out to his advantage, and to conduce to
the bliss of eternal life.

CHAPTER IX.

The case of Job who was tempted by the devil; and of the
Lord who was betrayed by Judas: and how prosperity as
well as adversity is advantageous to a good man.

For the patience of Job did not bring any
gain to the devil, through making him a
better man by his temptations, but only to
Job himself who endured them bravely; nor
was Judas granted freedom from eternal
punishment, because his act of betrayal con-
tributed to the salvation of mankind. For
we must not regard the result of the deed,
but the purpose of the doer. Wherefore we
should always cling to this assertion; viz.,
that evil cannot be brought upon a man by
another, unless a man has admitted it bv his
sloth or feebleness of heart: as the blessed
Apostle confirms this opinion of ours in a
verse of Scripture: "But we know that all
things work together for good to them that
love God."^ But by saying "All things work
together for good," he includes everything
alike, not only things fortunate, but also
those which seem to be misfortunes : through
which the Apostle tells us in another place
that he himself has passed, when he says :
" By the armour of righteousness on the right
hand and on the left," i.e., "Through honour
and dishonour, through evil report and good

' Rom. viii. 28.

report, as deceivers and yet true, as sorrowful
but always rejoicing, as needy and yet enrich-
ing many:" ^ All those things then which
are considered fortunate, and are called
those "on the right hand," which the holy
Apostle designates by the terms honour and
good report; and those too which are counted
misfortunes, which he clearly means by dis-
honour and evil report, and which he de-
scribes as "on the left hand," become to the
perfect man "the armour of righteousness," if
when they are brought upon liim, he bears
them bravely, because, as he fights with
these, and uses those very weapons with
which he seems to be attacked, and is pro-
tected by them as by bow and sword and
stout shield against those who bring these
things upon him, he secures the advantage
of his patience and goodness, and obtains a
grand triumph of steadfastness by means of
those very weapons of his enemies which are
hurled against him to kill him ; and if only
he is not elated by success or cast down by
failure, but ever marches straightforward on
the king's highway, and does not swerve from
that state of tranquillity as it were to the
right hand, when joy overcomes him, nor let
himself be driven so to speak to the left hand,
when misfortunes overwhelm him, and sor-
row holds sway. For " Much peace have they
that love Thy law, and to them there is no
stumbling block." ^ But of those who shift
about according to the character and changes
of the several chances which happen to them,
we read: "But a fool will change like the
moon."* Forjustasit is said of men who
are perfect and wise : "To them that love God
all things work together for good,'"^ so of
those who are weak and foolish it is declared
that "everything is against a foolish man," ^
for he gets no profit out of prosperity, nor
does adversity make him any better. For it
requires as much goodness to bear sorrows
bravely, as to be moderate in prosperity: and
it is quite certain that one who fails in one of
these, will not bear up under the other. But
a man can be more easily overcome by pros-
perity than by misfortunes: for these some-
times restrain men against their will and
make them humble and through most salutary
sorrow cause them to sin less, and make them
better: while prosperity puff's up the mind
with soothing but most pernicious flatteries
and when men are secure in the prospect of
their happiness dashes them to the ground
with a still greater destruction.

- 2 Cor. vi. 7-10.

3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 165.

* Ecclus. xxvii. II.

5 Rom. viii. 2S.

6 Prov. xiv. 7 (LXX.).

356

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER X.

Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively
spoken of as ambidextrous.

Those are they then who are figurately
spoken of in holy Scripture as uiafnTfoodt^ioi',
i.e., ambidextrous, as Ehud is described in
the book of Judges "who used either hand as
the right ^ hand." And this power we also
can spiritually acquire, if by making a right
and proper use of those things which are for-
tunate, and which seem to be "on the right
hand," as well as of those which are unfortu-
nate and as we call it "on the left hand," we
make them both belong to the right side, so
that whatever turns up proves in our case, to
use the words of the Apostle, " the armour of
righteousness." For we see that the inner
man consists of two parts, and if I may be
allowed the expression, two hands, nor can
any of the saints do without that which we
call the left hand : but by means of it the per-
fection of virtue is shown, where a man by
skilful use can turn both hands into right
hands. And in order to make our meaning
clearer, the saint has for his right hand his
spiritual achievements, in which he is found
when with fervent spirit he gets the better of
his desires and passions, when he is free from
all attacks of the devil, and without any effort
or difficulty rejects and cuts off all carnal sins,
when he is exalted above the earth and regards
all things present and earthly as light smoke
or vain shadows, and scorns them as what is
about to vanish away, when with an overflow-
ing heart he not only longs most intensely
for the future but actually sees it the more
clearly, when he is more effectually fed on
spiritual contemplations, when he sees hea-
venly mysteries more brightly laid open to
him, when he pours forth his prayers to God
with greater purity and readiness, when he is
so inriamed with fervour of spirit as to pass
with the utmost readiness of soul to things
invisible and eternal, so as scarcely to believe
that he any longer remains in the flesh. He
has also a left hand, when he is entangled in
the toils of temptation, when he is inflamed
with the heat of desire for carnal lusts, when
he is set on fire by emotion towards rage and
anger, when he is overcome by being puffed
up with pride or vainglory, when he is op-
pressed by a sorrow that worketh death, when
he is shaken to pieces by the contrivances and
attacks of accidie, and when he has losf all
spiritual warmth, and grows indifferent with
a sort of lukewarmness and unreasonable grief

^ Jiidg. iii. 15, wlierc the LXX. has aixij)ortpoS<^i.ov.

so that not only is he forsaken by good and
kindling thoughts, but acually Psalms, prayer,
reading, and retirement in his cell all pall
upon him, and all virtuous exercises seem by
an intolerable and horrible loathing to have
lost their savour. And when a monk is
troubled in this way, then he knows that he
is attacked " on the left hand. ' ' Anyone there-
fore who is not at all puffed up through the
aid of vainglory by any of those things on
the right hand which we have mentioned, and
who struggles manfully against those on the
left hand, and does not yield to despair and
give in, but rather on the other hand seizes
the armour of patience to practise himself in
virtue — this man can use both hands as right
hands, and in each action he proves trium-
phant and carries off the prize of victory from
that condition on the left hand as well as that
on the right. Such, we read, was the reward
which the blessed Job obtained who was cer-
tainly crowned (for a victory) on the right
hand, when he was the father of seven sons
and walked as a rich and wealthy man, and
yet offered daily sacrifices to the Lord for their
purification, in his anxiety that they might
.prove acceptable and dear to God rather than
to himself, when his gates stood open to every
stranger, when he was "feet to lame and eyes
to blind, "^ when the shoulders of the suffer-
ing were kept warm by the wool of his sheep,
when he was a father to orphans and a husband
to widows, when he did not even in his heart
rejoice at the fall of his enemy. And again
it was the same man who with still greater
virtue triumphed over adversity on the left
hand, when deprived in one moment of his
seven sons he was not as a father overcome
with bitter grief but as a true servant of God
rejoiced in the will of his Creator. \Mien
instead of being a wealthy man he became
poor, naked instead of rich, pining away
instead of strong, despised and contemptible
instead of famous and honourable, and yet
preserved his fortitude of mind unshaken,
when, lastly, bereft of all his wealth and sub-
stance he took up his abode on the dunghill,
and like some stern executioner of his own
body scraped with a potsherd the matter that
broke out, and plunging his fingers deep into
his wounds dragged out on every side masses
of worms from his limbs. And in all this he
never fell into despair and blasphemy, nor
murmured at all against his Creator. More-
over also so little was he overcome by such a
weight of bitter temptations that the cloak
which out of all his former property remained
to cover his body, and which alone could be

2 Job xxix. 15.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.

1 r »-

^5/

saved from destruction by the devil because
he was clothed with it, he rent and cast off,
and covered with it his nakedness which he
voluntarily endured, which the terrible robber
had brought upon him. The hair of his head
too, which was the only thing left untouched
out of all the remains of his former glory, he
shaved and cast to his tormentor, and cutting
off even that which his savage foe had left to
him he exulted over him and mocked him
with that celestial cry of his: '"If we have
received good at the hand of the Lord, should
we not also receive evil? Naked came I out
of my mother's womb, and naked shall I
return thither. The Lord gave and the Lord
hath taken away; as it hath pleased the Lord,
so is it done; blessed be the name of the
Lord." ' I should also with good reason call
Joseph ambidextrous, as in prosperity he was
very dear to his father, affectionate to his
brethren, acceptable to God; and in adversity
was chaste, and faithful to the Lord, in prison
most kind to the prisoners, forgetful of wrongs,
generous to his enemies; and to his brethren
who were envious of him and as far as lay in
their powers, his murderers, he proved not
only affectionate but actually munificent.
These men then and those who are like them
are rightly termed u/icpoTfoodt^ioy, i. e. , ambidex-
trous. For they can use either hand as the
right hand, and passing through those things
which the Apostle enumerates can fairly say:
" Through the armour of righteousness on the
right hand and on the left, through honour and
dishonour, through evil report and good report
etc. " And of this right and left hand Solomon
speaks as follows in the Song of songs, in the
person of the bride: "His left hand is under
my head, and his right hand shall embrace
me." - And while this passage shows that
both are useful, yet it puts one under the
head, because misfortunes ought to be subject
to the control of the heart, since they are only
useful for this; viz., to train us for a time
and discipline us for our salvation and make
us perfect in the matter of patience. But the
right hand she hopes will ever cling to her to
cherish her and hold her fast in the blessed
embrace of the Bridegroom, and unite her to
fiim indissolubly. We shall then be ambi-
dextrous, when neither abundance nor want
affects us. and when the former does not entice
us to the luxury of a dangerous carelessness,
while the latter does not draw us to despair,
and complaining; but when, giving thanks to
God in either case alike, we gain one and the
same advantage out of good and bad fortune.
And such that truly ambidextrous man, the

1 Job ii. lo; i. 21.

Cant. ii. 6.

teacher of the Gentiles, testifies that he him-
self was, when he says : " For I have learnt in
whatsoever state I am, to be content therewith.
[ know both how to be brought low and I
know how to abound : everywhere and in all
things I am instructed both to be full and to
be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
I can do all things in Him which strength-
eneth me. " ^

CHAPTER XL

Of the two kinds of trials, which come upon us in a three-
fold way.

Well then, though we say that trial is
twofold, i.e., in prosperity and in adversity,
yet you must know that all men are tried in
three different ways. Often for their proba-
tion, sometimes for their improvement, and
in some cases because their sins deserve it.
For their probation indeed, as we read that
the blessed Abraham and Job and many of
the saints endured countless tribulations; or
this which is said to the people in Deutero-
nomy by Moses : " And ^Jiou shalt remember all
the way through which the Lord thy God hath
brought thee for forty years through the desert,
to afflict thee and to prove thee, and that the
things that were in thy heart might be made
known, whether thou wouldst keep His Com-
mandments or no : " ^ and this which we find in
the Psalms : " I proved thee at the waters of
strife."^ To Job also: "Thinkest thou that
I have spoken for any other cause than that
thou mightest be seen to be righteous ? " ^ But
for improvement, when God chastens his
righteous ones for some small and venial sins,
or to raise them to a higher state of purity,
and delivers them over to various trials, that
He may purge away all their unclean thoughts,
and, to use the prophet's word, the '"dross,"
which he sees to have collected in their secret
parts, and inay thus transmit them like pure
gold, to the judgment to come, as He allows
nothing to remain in them for the fire of judg-
ment to discover when hereafter it searches
them with penal torments according to this
saying : " Many are the tribulations of the
righteous."'' And: "My son, neglect not the
discipline of the Lord, neither be thou wearied
whilst thou art rebuked by Him. For whom
the Lord loveth He chastiseth, and scourgeth
every son whom He receiveth. For what son
is there whom the father doth not correct?
But if ye are without chastisement, whereof
all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and

s Phil. iv. 11-13.

* Deut. viii. 2.

5 Ps. Ixxx. (Ixxxi.) 7.

c Job xl. y. (LXX.).

' Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) ig.

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not sons."^ And in the Apocah-pse: "Those
whom I love, I reprove and chasten."- To
whom under the figure of Jerusalem the follow-
ing words are spoken by Jeremiah, in the per-
son of God: "For I will utterly consume all
the nations among which I scattered thee : but
I will not utterly consume thee: but I will
chastise thee in judgment, that thou may-
est not seem to thyself innocent. " ^ And
for this life-giving cleansing David prays
when he says: " Prove me, O Lord, and try
me; turn my Yeins and my heart."* Isaiah
also, v.'ell knowing the value of this trial,
says "O Lord, correct us but with judgment:
not in Thine anger." ^ And again : " I will give
thanks to thee, O Lord, for thou wast angry
with me : Thy wrath is turned away, and Thou
hast comforted me.'"'^ But as a punishment
for sins, the blows of trial are inflicted, as
where the Lord threatens that He will send
plagues upon the people of Israel: "T will
send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the
fury of creatures that trail upon the ground : " "^
and "In vain have I struck your children:
they have not receivejj correction." ^ In the
Psalms also : " Many are the scourges of the
sinners : " ^ and in the gospel : " Behold thou
art made whole : now sin no more, lest a worse
thing happen unto thee." ^^ We find, it is
true, a fourth way also in which we know on
the authority of Scripture that some sufferings
are brought upon us simply for the manifes-
tation of the glory of God and His works,
according to these words of the gospel :
"Neither did this man sin nor his parents, but
that the works of God might be manifested in
him : " " and again : " This sickness is not unto
death, but for the glory of God that the Son of
God may be glorified by it." ^' There are also
other sorts of vengeance, with which some
who have overpassed the bounds of wicked-
ness are smitten in this life, as we read that
Dathan and Abiram or Korah were punished,
or above all, those of whom the Apostle
speaks: "Wherefore God gave them up to vile
passions and a reprobate mind:"*^ and this
must be counted worse than all other punish-
ments. For of these the Psalmist says : " They
are not in the labours of men; neither shall
they be scourged like other men." " For they

' Heb. xii. 5-S.

- Rev. iii. ig.

3 Jer. XXX. 1 1.

* Ps. XXV. (xxvi.) 2.

^ The passage is not from Isaiah, but from Jer. x. 24.

" Is. xii. I.

^ Deut. xxxii. 24.

* Jer. ii. 30.

9 Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 10.
»o S. John v. 14.
" S. John ix. 3.
" S. John xi. 4.
" Rom. i. 2'S, 28.
1* Ps. Ixxii. (Ixxiii.) 5.

are not worthy of being healed by the visita-
tion of the Lord which gives life, and by
plagues in this world, as " in despair they have
given themselves over to lasciviousness, unto
the working of all error unto uncleanness," ^°
and as by hardening their hearts, and by
growing accustomed and used to sin they have
got beyond cleansing in this brief life and
punishment in the present world: men. who
are thus reproved by the holy word of the
prophet: "I destroyed some of you, as God
destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, and you
were as a firebrand plucked out of the burn-
ing: yet )'ou returned not to Me, saith the
Lord,"^® and Jeremiah: "I have killed and
destroyed thy people, and yet they are not
returned from their wavs. '*'•'" And a^ain:
"Thou hast smitten them and they have not
grieved: Thou hast bruised them and they
refused to receive correction: they have made
their faces harder than the rock, they have
refused to return." ^* And the prophet seeing
that all the remedies of this life will have
been applied in vain for their healing, and
already as it were despairing of their life,
declares: "The bellows have failed in the fire,
the founder hath melted in vain : for their
wicked deeds are not consumed. Call them
reprobate silver, for the Lord hath rejected
them.''" And the Lord thus laments that to
no purpose has He applied this salutary
cleansing by fire to those who are hardened
in their sins, in the person of Jerusalem
crusted all over with the rust of her sins,
when He says: "set it empty upon burning
coals, that it may be hot, and the brass thereof
may be melted: and let the filth of it be
melted in the midst thereof. Great pains
have been taken, and the great rust thereof
is not gone out, no not even by fire. Thy un-
cleanness is execrable : because I desired to
cleanse thee, and thou art not cleansed from
thy filthiness." -' Wherefore like a skilful
physician, who has tried all saving cures, and
sees there is no remedy left which can be
applied to their disease, the Lord is in a
manner overcome by their iniquities and is
obliged to desist from that kindlv chastise-
ment of His, and so denounces them saying:
" I will no longer be angry with thee, and thy
jealousy has departed from thee."-^ But of
others, whose heart has not grown hard by
continuance in sin, and who do not stand in
need of that most severe and ( if I may so call
it) caustic remedy, but for whose salvation
the instruction of the life-giving word is suffi-

'' Eph. iv. 19.
'^ Amos iv. II.
'" Jer. XV. 7.
" Jer. V. 3.

'" Jer. ^^. 29, 30.
^ Ezek. xxiv. 11-13.
2' Ezek. *%i. 42.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE.

359

cient^ — -of them it is said: "I will improve
them by hearing of their suffering.'"^ We
are well aware that there are other reasons
also of the punishment and vengeance which
is inflicted on those who have sinned grie-
vously — 'not to expiate their crimes, nor wipe
out the deserts of their sins, but that the li-
ving maybe put in fear and amend their lives.
And these we plainly see were inflicted on
Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and Baasha the
son of Ahiah, and Ahab and Jezebel, when the
Divine reproof thus declares: ''Behold, I will
bring evil upon thee, and will cut down thy
posterity, and will kill of Ahab every male,
and him that is shut up and the last in Israel.
And I will make thy house like the house of
Jeroboam the son of Nebat and like the
house of Baasha the son of Ahiah : for that
which thou hast done to provoke Me to anger,
and for making Israel to sin. The dogs also
shall eat Jezebel in the field of Jezreel. If
Ahab die in the city, the dogs shall eat him:
but if he die in the field the birds of the air
shall eat him,"" and this which is threatened
as the greatest threat of all : " Thy dead body
shall not be brought to the sepulchre of thy
fathers."^ It was not that this short and
momentary punishment would suffice to purge
away the blasphemous inventions of him who
first made the golden calves and led to the
lasting sin of the people, and their wicked
separation from the Lord, • — or the countless
and disgraceful profanities of those others,
but it was that by their example the fear of
those punishments which they dreaded might
fall on others also, who, as they thought little
of the future or even disbelieved in it alto-
gether, wjuld only be moved by consideration
of things present; and that owing to this
proof of His severity they might acknowledge
that there is no lack of care for the affairs of
men, and for their daily doings, in the majesty
of God on high, and so through that which
they greatly feared might the more clearly see
in God the rewarder of all their deeds. We
find, it is true, that even for lighter faults
some men have received the same sentence of
death in this world, as that with which those
men were punished who, as we said before,
were the authors of a blasphemous falling
away: as happened in the case of the man who
gathered sticks on the Sabbath,* and in that
of Ananias and Sapphira, who through the
sin of unbelief kept back some portion of
their goods: not that the guilt of their sins
\Vas equal, but because they were the first
found out in a new kind of transgression, and

1 Hns. vii. 12 (LXX.).
' I Kings xxl. 21-24.

3 I Kings xiii. 22.
* Cf. Numb. XV. 32

so it was right that as they had given to others
an example of sin, so also they should give
them an example of punishment and of fear,
that anyone, who should attempt to copy them,
might know that (even if his punishment were
postponed in this life) he would be punished
in the same way that they were at the trial
of the judgment hereafter. And, since in our
desire to run through the different kinds of
trials and punishments we seem to have
wandered somewhat from our subject, on
which we were saying that the perfect man will
always remain steadfast in either kind of
trial, now let us return to it once more.

CHAPTER XII.

How the upright man ought to be like a stamp not of wax but
of hard steel.

And so the mind of the upright man ought
not to be like wax or any other soft material
which always yields to the shape of what
presses on it, and is stamped with its form
and impress and keeps it until it takes an-
other shape by having another seal stamped
upon it; and so it results that it never retains
its own form but is turned and twisted about
to correspond to whatever is pressed upon it.
But he should rather be like some stamp of
hard steel, that the mind may always keep its
proper form and shape inviolate, and may
stamp and imprint on everything which occurs
to it the marks of its own condition, while
upon it itself nothing that happens can leave
any mark.

CHAPTER XIII.

A question whether the mind can constantly continue in one
and the same condition.

Germanus: But can our mind constantly
preserve its condition unaltered, and always
continue in the same state ?

CHAPTER XIV.

The answer to the point raised by the questioner.

Theodore: It is needful that one must
either, as the Apostle says, "be renewed in
the spirit of the mind,"^ and daily advance
by "pressing forward to those things which are
before,"® or, if one neglects to do this, the
sure result will be to go back, and become

* Eph. iv. 23.

6 Phil. iii. 13.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

worse and worse. And therefore the mind
cannot possibly remain in one and the same
state. Just as when a man, by pulling hard,
is trying to force a boat against the stream of
a strong current he must either stem the rush
of the torrent by the force of his arms, and
so mount to what is higher up, or letting
his hands slacken be whirled headlong down
stream. Wherefore it will be a clear proof of
our failure if we find that we have gained
nothing more, nor should we doubt but that
we have altogether gone back, whenever we
find that we have not advanced upwards,
because, as I said, the mind of man cannot
possibly continue in the same condition, nor
so long as he is in the flesh will any of the
saints ever reach the height of all virtues, so
that they continue unalterable. For some-
thing must either be added to them or taken
away from them, and in no creature can there
be such perfection, as not to be subject to
the feeling of change; as we read in the book
of Job : " What is man that he should be with-
out spot, and he that is born of a woman that
he should appear just? Behold among His
saints none is unchangeable, and the heavens
are not pure in His sight." ^ For we confess
that God only is unchangeable, who alone is
thus addressed by the prayer of the holy
prophet " But Thou art the same," " and who
says of Himself "I am God, and I change
not, "^ because He alone is by nature always
good, always full and perfect, and one to
whom nothing can ever be added, or from
whom nothing can be taken away. And so
we ought always with incessant care and
anxiety to give ourselves up to the acquire-
ment of virtue, and constantly to occupy our-
selves with the practice of it, lest, if we cease
to go forward, the result should immediately
be a going back. For, as we said, the mind
cannot continue in one and the same condi-
tion, I mean without receiving addition to or
diminution of its good qualities. For to fail to
gain new ones, is to lose them, because when
the desire of making progress ceases, there the
danger of going back is present.

CHAPTER XV.

How one loses by goins away from one's cell.

And so we ought always to remain shut up
in our cell. For whenever a man has strayed
from it and returns fresh to it and begins
again to live there he will be upset and dis-

* Job XV. 14, 15.

^ Ps. ci. (cii.) 27.

3 Mai. iii. 6.

turbed. For if he has let it go he cannot
without difficulty and pains recover that fixed
purpose of m4nd, which he had gained when
he remained in his cell; and as through this
he has gone back, he will not think anything
of the advance which he has missed, and which
he would have secured if he had not allowed
himself to leave his cell, but he will rather
congratulate himself if he finds that he has
regained that condition from which he fell
away. For just as time once lost and gone
cannot any more be recovered, so neither can
those advantages which have been missed be
restored : for whatever earnest purpose of the
mind there may be afterwards, it will be the
profit of the day then present, and the gain
that belongs to the time that then is, and will
not make up for the gain that has been once
for all lost.

. CHAPTER XVI.

How even celestial powers above are capable of change.

But that even the powers above are, as we
said, subject to change is shown by those who
fell from their ranks through the fault of a
corrupt will. Wherefore we ought not to
think that the nature of those is unchangeable,
who remain in the blessed condition in which
they were created, simply because they were
not in like manner led astray to choose the
worse part. For it is one thing to have a
nature incapable of change, and another
thing for a man through the efforts of his vir-
tue, and by guarding what is good through the
grace of the unchangeable God, to be kept
from change. For everything that is secured
or preserved by care, c^n also be lost by care-
lessness. And so we read: "Call no man
blessed before his death,"* because so long
as a man is still engaged in the struggle,
and if I may use the expression, still wrest-
ling— even though he generally conquers
and carries off many prizes of victory, — • yet
he can never be free from fear, and from the
suspicion of an uncertain issue. And there-
fore God alone is called unchangeable and
good, as His goodness is not the result of
effort, but a natural possession, and so He
cannot be anything but good. No virtue then
can be acquired by man without the possibility
of change, but in order that when it once
exists it maybe continually preserved, it must
be watched over with the same care and dili-
gence with which it was acquired.

* Ecclus. xi. 30.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

;6i

CHAPTER XVII.

That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall.

But we must not imagine that anyone slips
and comes to grief by a sudden fall, but that
he falls by a hopeless collapse either from
being deceived by beginning his training
badly, or from the good qualities of his soul
failing through a long course of carelessness of
mind, and so his faults gaining ground upon
him little by little. For " loss goeth before
destruction, and an evil thought before a
fall," ^ just as no house ever falls to the ground
by a sudden collapse, but only when there is
some tlaw of long standing in the foundation,
or when by long continued neglect of its in-
mates, what was at first only a little drip finds
its way through, and so the protecting walls
are by degrees ruined, and in consequence
of long standing neglect . the gap becomes
larger, and break away, and in time the
drenching storm and rain pours in like a
river: for "by slothfulness a building is cast
down, and through the weakness of hands the
house shall drop through," '^ And that the same
thing happens spiritually to the soul the same

Solomon thus tells us in other words, when he
says: "water dripping drives a man out of the
house on a stormy clay." * Elegantly then
does he compare carelessness of mind to a
roof, and to tiles that have not been looked
after, through which in the first instance only
very slight drippings (so to speak) of the pas-
sions make their way to the soul : but if these
are not heeded, as being but small and trifling,
then the beams of virtues will decay and be car-
ried away by a great tempest of sins, through
which "on a stormy day," i.e., in the time
of temptation, the devil's attack will assail us,
and the soul will be driven forth from the
abode of virtue, in which, as long as it pre-
served all watchful diligence, it had remained
as in a house that belonged to it.

And so when we had heard this, we were
so immensely delighted with our spiritual
repast, that the mental pleasure with which
we were filled by this conference outweighed
the sorrow which we had experienced before
from the death of the saints. For not only
were we instructed in things about which we
had been puzzled, but we also learnt from the
raising of that question some things, which
our understanding had been too small for us
to ask about.

CONFERENCE VII.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

ON INCONSTANCY OF MIND, AND SPIRITUAI WICKEDNESS.

CHAPTER I.

On the chastity of Abbot Serenus.3

As we desire to introduce to earnest minds
the Abbot Serenus, a man of the greatest
holiness and continence, and one who answers
like a mirror to his name, whom we admired
above all others with peculiar veneration, we
think that we only carry out our desire by the
attempt to insert his conferences in our book.
To this man beyond all other virtues, which
shone forth not merely in his actions and
manners, but by God's grace in his very look
as well, there was granted by a special blessing
the gift of continence, so that he never felt
himself disturbed even by natural incitements

1 Prov. xvi. 1 8 (LXX.).

2 Eccl. X. iS (LXX.).

3 Very little is known of Serenus but what is here told.
Vitae Patrum, c. 1.

Cf. the

even in sleep. And how it was that by the
assistance of God's grace he attained such
wondrous purity of the flesh, as it seems
beyond the conditions of human nature, I
think that I ought first of all to explain.

CHAPTER 11.

The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our
thoughts.

This man then in his prayers by day and
night, and in fasts and vigils unweariedly
entreated for inward chastity of heart and soul,
and seeing that he had obtained what he
wished and prayed for, and that all the pas-
sions of carnal concupiscence in his heart were
dead, was roused as it were by the sweetest
taste of purity, and inflamed by his zeal for

* Prov. xxvii. 15 (LXX,).

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chastity towards a yet more ardent desire, and
began to apply himself to stricter fasts and
prayers that the mortification of this passion
which by God's grace had been granted to his
inner man, might be extended also so as to in-
clude external purity, to such an extent that
he might no longer be affected by any simple
and natural movement, such as is excited
even in children and infants. And by the ex-
perience of the gift he had obtained, which
he knew he had secured by no merit of his
labours, but by the grace of God, he was the
more ardently stimulated to obtain this also
in like manner, as he believed that God could
much more easily tear up by the roots this in-
citement of the flesh, (which even by man's
art and skill is sometimes destroyed by potions
and remedies or by the use of the knife) since
He had of His own free gift conferred that
purity of spirit which is a still greater thing,
and which cannot be acquired by human efforts
and exertions. And when with unceasing
supplications and tears he was applying him-
self unweariedly to the petition he had com-
menced, there came to him an angel in a vision
by night, and seemed to open his belly, and to
remove from his bowels a sort of fiery fleshly
humour, and to cast it away, and restore
everything to its place as before; and "lo " he
said, "the incitements of your flesh are re-
moved, and you may be sure that you have
this day obtained that lasting purity of body
for which you have faithfully asked." It will
be enough thus briefly to have told this of
the grace of God which was granted to this
famous man in a special way. But I deem it
unnecessary to say anything of those virtues
which he possessed in common with other
good men, for fear lest that particular narra-
tive on this man's name might seem to deprive
others of that which is specially mentioned
of him. Him therefore, as we were inflamed
with the greatest eagerness for conference with
and instruction from him, we arranged to
visit in Lent ; and when he had very quietly
inquired of us of the character of our thoughts
and the state of our inner man, and what help
we had got towards its purity from our long
stay in the desert, we approached him with
these complaints :

CHAPTER HI.

Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts.

The time spent here, and the dwelling in
solitude, and meditation, through which you

think that we ought to have attained perfec-
tion of the inner man, has only done this for
us; viz., teach us that which we are unable to
be, without making us what we are trying to
be. Nor do we feel that by this knowledge
we have acquired any fixed steadfastness of
the purity which we long for, or any strength
and firmness; but only an increase of confu-
sion and shame: for though our meditation in
all our discipline aims at this in our daily
studies, and endeavours from trembling be-
ginnings to reach a sure and unwavering skill,
and to begin to know something of what
originally it knew but vaguely or was alto-
gether ignorant of, and by advancing by sure
steps (so to speak) towards the condition of
that discipline, to habituate itself perfectly
to it without any difficulty, I find on the con-
trary that while I am struggling in this desire
for purity, I have only got far enough to know
what I cannot be. And hence I feel that
nothing but trouble results to me from all this
contrition of heart, so that matter for tears is
never wanting, and yet I do not cease to be
what I ought not to be. And so what is the
good of having learnt what is best, if it cannot
be attained even when known ? for when we
have been feeling that the aim of our heart
was directed towards what we purposed, in-
sensibly the mind returns to its previous wan-
dering thoughts and slips back with a more
violent rush, and is taken up with daily dis-
tractions and incessantly drawn away by num-
berless things that take it captive, so that we
almost despair of the improvement which we
long for, and all these observances seem use-
less. Since the mind which every moment
wanders off vaguely, when it is brought back
to the fear of God or spiritual contemplation,
before it is established in it, darts off and
strays; and when we have been roused and
have discovered that it has wandered from the
purpose set before it, and want to recall it to
the meditation from which it has strayed, and
to bind it fast with the firmest purpose of
heart, as if with chains, while we are making
the attempt it slips away from the inmost
recesses of the heart swifter than a snake.
Wherefore we being inflamed by daily exer-
cises of this kind, and yet not seeing that we
gain from them any strength and stability in
heart are overcome and in despair driven to
this opinion; viz., to believe that it is from no
fault of our own but from a fault of our nature
that these wanderings of mind are found in
mankind.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

CHAPTER IV.

The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its
excellence.

Serenus: It is dangerous to jump to a
conclusion and lay down the law hastily on
the nature of anything before you have pro-
perly discussed the subject and considered its
true character. Nor should you, looking only
at your own weakness, hazard a conjecture
instead of pronouncing a judgment based on
the character and value of the practice itself,
and others' experience of it. For if anyone,
who was ignorant of swimming but knew that
the weight of his body could not be supported
by water, wished from the proof which his
inexperience afforded, to lay down that no
one composed of solid flesh could possibly be
supported on the liquid element, we ought not
therefore to think his opinion a true one,
which he seemed to bring forward in accord-
ance with his own experience, since this can
be shown to be not merely not impossible but
actually extremely easily done by others, by
the clearest proofs and ocular demonstration.
And so the fovg, i.e., the mind, is defined as
('xsisilPijTo; y.ul noXvyJvTjiog, i.e., ever shifting and
very shifting: as it is thus described in the so
called wisdom of Solomon in other words: y-ul
ysiiidegav.r^i'og^Qldei povp nolvcpoomda, i.e.," And
the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the
mind that museth on many things." ^ This
then in accordance with its nature can never
remain idle, but unless provision is made
where it may exercise its motions and have
what will continually occupy it, it must by
its own fickleness wander about and stray
over all kinds of things until, accustomed by
long practice and daily use — in which you
say that you have tailed without result — it
tries and learns what food for the memory it
ought to prepare, toward which it may bring
back its unwearied flight and acquire strength
for remaining, and thus may succeed in dri-
ving away the hostile suggestion of the enemy
by which it is distracted, and in persisting in
that state and condition which it yearns for.
We ought not then to ascribe this wandering
inclination of our heart either to human nature
or to God its Creator. For it is a true state-
ment of Scripture, that " God made man up-
right; but they themselves found out many
thoughts" 2 The character of these then de-
pends on us ourselves, for it says "a good
thought comes near to those that know it, but
a prudent man will find it." ^ For where any-

thing is subject to our prudence and industry so
that it can be found out, there if it is fwf found
out, we ought certainly to set it down to our own
laziness or carelessness and not to the fault of
our nature. • And with this meaning the Psalm-
ist also is in agreement, when he says : " Blessed
is the man whose help is from Thee : in his
heart he hath disposed his ascents." * You see
then that it lies in our power to dispose in
our hearts either ascaits, i.e., thoughts that
belong to God, or descents ; viz., those that sink
down to carnal and earthly things. And if
this was not in our power the Lord would not
have -rebuked the Pharisees, saying ''Why do
ye think evil in your hearts? " ^ norwou. He
have given this charge by the prophet, saymg:
"Take away the evil of your thoughts from
mine eyes;" and "How long shall wicked
thoughts remain in you ? " ^ Nor would the
character of them as of our works be taken
into consideration in the day of judgment in
our case as the Lord threatens by Isaiah:
"Lo, I come to gather together their works
and thoughts together with all nations and
tongues ; " ' nor would it be right that we
should be condemned or defended by their
evidence in that terrible and dreadful ex-
amination, as the blessed Apostle says:
" Their thoughts between themselves accusing
or also defending one another, in the day
when God shall judge the secrets of men
according to my gospel." ^

CHAPTER V.

On the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison
of the Centurion in the gospel.

Of this perfect mind then there is an excel-
lent figure drawn in the case of the centurion
in the gospel ; whose virtue and consistency,
owing to which he was not led away by the
rush of thoughts, but in accordance with his
own judgment either admitted such as were
good, or easily drove away those of the oppo-
site character, are described in this tropical
form : " For I also am a man under authority,
having soldiers under me: and I say to this
man. Go, and he goeth; and to another.
Come, and hecometh; and to my servant. Do
this, and he doeth it." ^ If then we too strive
manfully against disturbances and sins and can
bring them under our own control and dis-
cretion, and fight and destroy the passions in
our flesh, and bring under the sway of reason

1 Wisdom ix. 15. - Eccl. vii. 29 (LXX.).

3 Prov. xix. 7 (LXX.).

< Ps. Ixxxiii. (Ixxxiv.) 6.

5 S. Matt. ix. 4.

c Is. i. 16 ; Jer. iv. 14.

7 Is. Ixvi. 18.

8 Rom. ii. 15, 16.
0 S. Matt. viii. 9.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

the swarm of our thoughts, and drive back
from our breast the terrible hosts of the
powers opposed to us by the life-giving
standard of the Lord's cross, we shall in
reward for such triumphs be promoted to the
rank of that centurion spiritually understood,
who, as we read in Exodus, was mystically
pointed to by Moses : " Appoint for thee rulers
of thousands, and of hundreds, and of fifties
and of tens." ^ And so we too when raised to
the height of this dignity shall have the same
right and power to command, so that we
shall not be carried away by thoughts against
our will, but shall be able to continue in and
cling to those which spiritually delight us,
commanding the evil suggestions to depart, and
they will depart, while to good ones we shall
say "Come," and they will come: and to our
servant also, i.e., the body we shall in like
manner enjoin what belongs to chastity and
continence, and it will serve us without any
gainsaying, no longer arousing in us the hos-
tile incitaments of concupiscence, but showing
all subservience to the spirit. And what is
the character of the arms of this centurion,
and for what use in battle they are, hear the
blessed Apostle declaring: ''The arms," he
says, "of our warfare are not carnal, but
mighty to God." He tells us their character;
viz., that they are not carnal or weak, but
spiritual and mighty to God. Then he next
suggests in what struggles they are to be
used: "Unto the pulling down of fortifica-
tions, purging the thoughts, and every height
that exalteth itself against the knowledge of
God, and bringing into captivity every under-
standing unto the obedience of Christ, and
having in readiness to avenge all disobedience,
when your obedience shall be first fulfilled."'-
And since though useful, it yet belongs to
another time to run through these one by one, I
only want you to see the different sorts of these
arms and their characteristics, as we also ought
always to walk with them girt upon us if we
mean to fight the Lord's battles and to serve
among the centurions of the gospel. "Take,"
he says "the shield of faith, wherewith ye may
be able to quench all the fiery darts of the
evil one."^ Faith then is that which inter-
cepts the flaming darts of lust, and destroys
them by the fear of future judgment, and
belief in the heavenly kingdom. "And the
breastplate," he says, "of charity." * This in-
deed is that which going round the vital parts
of the breast and protecting what is exposed

1 Exod. viii. 21.
- I Cor. X. 4-6.

2 Epb. vi. i6.
* I Tliess. V. 8.

to the deadly wounds of swelling thoughts.,
keeps off the blows opposed to it, and does
not allow the darts of the devil to penetrate to
our inner man. For it "endureth all things,
suffereth all things, beareth all things."^
"And for an helmet the hope of salvation." "
The helmet is what protects the head. As
then Christ is our head, we ought always
in all temptations and persecutions to pro-
tect it with the hope of future good things
to come, and especially to keep faith in Him
whole and undefiled. For it is possible for
one who has lost other parts of the body,
weak as he may be, still to survive : but even
a short time of living is extended to no one
without a head. "And the sword of the Spirit
which is the word of God.'"' For it is
"sharper than any two-edged sword, and pier-
cing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, and
of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner
of the thoughts and intents of the heart : " ^
as it divides and cuts off whatever carnal
and earthly things it may find in us. And
whosoever is protected by these arms will ever
be defended from the weapons and ravages of
his foes, and will not be led away bound in
the chains of his spoilers, a captive and a
prisoner, to the hostile land of vain thoughts,
nor hear the words of the prophet : " Why art
thou grown old in a strange country? " ^ But
he will stand like a triumphant conqueror in
the land of thoughts which he has chosen.
Would you understand too the strength and
courage of this centurion, by which he bears
these arms of which we spoke before as not
carnal but mighty to God.-* Hear of the se-
lection by which the King himself marks and
approves brave men when he summons them
to the spiritual combat. "Let," says He,
"the weak say that I am strong;" and: ''Let
him who is the sufferer become a warrior."^"
You see then that none but sufferers and
weak people can fight the Lord's battles, weak
indeed with that weakness, founded on which
that centurion of ours in the gospel said with
confidence : " For when I am weak, then am I
strong," and again, "for strength is made per-
fect in weakness." " Of which weakness one
of the prophets says : " And he that is weak
among them shall be as the house of David. ■^"
For the patient suft'erer shall fight these
wars, with that patience of which it is said
"patience is necessary for you that doing the
will of God 3^ou may receive the reward." ^^

'' I Cor. xiii. 7.
« I Thess. V. 8.
■ I'.ph. vi. 17.
' Heb. iv. 12.
" Barucli iii. 11.

10 Joelii. 10,. 1 1 (LXX.).
'1 2 Cor. xii. g, 10.
>2 Zech. xii. 8.
13 Heb. x. 36.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

365

CHAPTER Vl.

Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts.

But we shall find out by our own experience
that we can and ought to cling to the Lord if
we have our wills mortified and the desires of
this world cut off, and we shall be taught by
the authority of those who in converse with
the Lord say in all confidence: " My soul hath
stuck close to Thee ; " and : " I have stuck
unto Thy testimonies, OLord;" and: "It is
good for me to stick fast to God; " and: '' He
who cleaveth to the Lord, is one spirit. " ^ We
ought not then to be wearied out by these
wanderings of mind and relax from our fer-
vour: for "he that tilleth his ground shall be
filled with bread: but he that followeth idle-
ness shall be filled with poverty."- Nor
should we be drawn away from being intent
on this watchfulness through a dangerous
despair, for " in every one who is anxious there
is abundance, for he who is pleasant and free
from grief will be in want;" and again: "a
man in grief labours for himself, and forcibly
brings about his own destruction. '" ^ Moreover
also: "the kingdom of heaven suffereth vio-
lence and the violent take it by force,"* for
no virtue is acquired without effort, nor can
anyone attain to that mental stability which
he desires without great sorrow of heart, for
"man is born to trouble,"^ and in order that
he may be able to attain to " the perfect man,
the measure of the stature of the fulness of
Christ " ® he must ever be on the watch with
still greater intentness, and toil with cease-
less carefulness. But to the fulness of this
measure no one will ever attain, but one who
has considered it beforehand and been trained
to it now and has had some foretaste of it
while still in this world, and being marked a
most precious member of Christ, has possessed
in the flesh an earnest of that "joint"'' by
Avhich he can be united to His body : desiring
one thing alone, thirsting for but one thing,
ever bringing not only his acts but even his
thoughts to bear on one thing alone; viz.,
that he may even now keep as an earnest
that which is said of the blessed life of the
saints hereafter; viz., that "God may be" to
him "all in all. "^

1 Ps. xlii. (Ixiii.) 9; cxviii. (cxix.)3i; Ixxi. (Ixxiii) 2S ; i Cor.
vi. 17.

2 Prov. xxvui. ig.

3 Prov. xiv. 23 ; xvi. 26 (LXX.).
* S. Matt. xi. 12.

'' Job V. 7.
•^ Eph. iv. 13.
7 Ibid.
' I Cor. XV. 28.

CHAPTER VH.

A question on the roving tendency of the mind and the
attacks of spiritual wickedness.

Germanus: Perhaps this tendency of the
mind to rove might to some extent be
checked were it not that so great a swarm of
enemies surrounded it, and ceaselessly urged
it toward what it has no wish for, or rather
whither the roving character of its own nature
drives it. And since such numberless foes,
and those so powerful and terrible, surround
it, we should not fancy that it was possible for
them to be withstood especially by this weak
flesh of ours, were we not encouraged to this
view by your words as if by oracles from
heaven.

CHAPTER Vin.

The answer on the help of God and the power of free will.

Serenus: No one who has experienced
the conflicts of the inner man, can doubt that
our foes are continually lying in wait for us.
But Ave mean that they oppose our progress in
such a way that we can think of them as only
inciting to evil things and woX. forcing. But no
one could altogether avoid whatever sin they
were inclined to imprint upon our hearts, if a
strong impulse was present to force (evil)
upon us, just as it is to suggest it. \Mierefore
as there is in them ample power of inciting,
so in us there is a supply of power of rejec-
tion, and of liberty of acquiescing. But if we
are afraid of their power and assaults, we
may also claim the protection and assistance
of God against them, of which we read: "For
srreater is He who is in us than he who is in this
world: "^ and His aid fights on our side with
much greater power than their hosts fight
against us ; for God is not only the suggester of
what is good, but the maintainer and insister
of it, so that sometimes He draws us towards
salvation even against our will and without our
knowing it. It follows then that no one can be
deceived by the devil but one who has chosen
to yield to him the consent of his own will : as
Ecclesiastes clearly puts it in these words:
" For since there is no gainsaying by those who
do evil speedily, therefore the heart of the child-
ren of men is filled within them to do evil." ^°
It is therefore clear that each man goes wrong
from this; viz., that when evil thoughts assault
him he does not immediately meet them with
refusal and contradiction, for it says: "resist
him, and he will flee from you." "

9 I John iv. 4.

Eccl. viii. II (LXX.). " S. James iv. 7.

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CHAPTER IX.

A question on the union of the soul with devils.

Germanus : What, I pray you, is that in-
discriminate and common union of the soul
with those evil spirits, by which it is possible
for them to be (I will not say joined with but)
united to it in such a way that they can im-
perceptibly talk with it, and find their way
into it and suggest to it whatever they want,
and incite it to whatever they like, and look
into and see its thoughts and movements;
and the result is so close a union between them
and the soul that it is almost impossible with-
out God's grace to distinguish between what
results from their instigation, and what from
our free will.

CHAPTER X.

The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls.

Serenus : It is no wonder that spirit can
be imperceptibly joined with spirit, and exer-
cise an unseen power of persuasion toward
what is allowed to it. For there is between
them (just as between men) some sort of
similarity and kinship of substance, since
the description which is given of the nature
of the soul, applies equally well to their sub-
stance. But it is impossible for spirits to be
implanted in spirits inwardly or united with
them in such a way that one can hold the
other; for this is the true prerogative of Deity
alone, which is the only simple and incor-
poreal nature.

CHAPTER XI.

An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or
united with the souls of those whom they have filled.

Germanus: To this idea we think, that
what we see happen in the case of those
possessed is sufficiently opposed, when they
say and do what they know not under the in-
fluence of the spirits. How then are we to
refuse to believe that their souls are not
united to those spirits, when we see them made
their instruments, and (forsaking their natural
condition) yielding to their movements and
moods, in such a way that they give expres-
sion no longer to their own words and actions
and wishes, but to those of the demons ?

CHAPTER XII.

The answer how it is that unclean spirits can lord it over
those possessed.

Serenus: What you speak of as taking
place in the case of demoniacs is not opposed
to our assertion; viz., that those possessed by
unclean spirits say and do what they do not
want to, and are forced to utter what they
know not; for it is perfectly clear that they
are not subject to the entrance of the spirits
all in the same way: for some are affected by
them in such a way as to have not the slight-
est conception of what they do and say, while
others know and afterwards recollect it. But
we must not imagine that this is done by the
infusion of the spirit in such a way that it
penetrates into the actual substance of the
soul and, being as it were united to it and
somehow clothed with it, utters words and
sayings through the mouth of the sufferer.
For we ought not to believe that this can
possibly be done . by them. For we can
clearly see that this results from no loss
of the soul but from weakness of the body,
when the unclean spirit seizes on those
members in which the vigour of the soul
resides, and laying on them an enormous and
intolerable weight overwhelms it with foulest
darkness, and interferes with its intellectual
powers: as we see sometimes happen also
from the fault of wine and fever or excessive
cold, and other indispositions affecting men
from without; and it was this which the devil
was forbidden to attempt to inflict on the
blessed Job, though he had received power
over his flesh, when the Lord commanded him
saying: '' Lo, I give him into thine hands:
only preserve his soul," ^ i.e., do not weaken
the seat of his soul and make him mad, and
overpower the understanding and wisdom of
what remains, by smothering the ruling power
in his heart with your weight.

CHAPTER XIII.

How spirit cannot be penetrated by spirit, and how God
alone is incorporeal.

For even if spirit is mingled with this
crass and solid matter; viz., flesh (as very
easily happens), should we therefore believe
that it can be united to the soul, which is in
like manner spirit, in such a way as to make
it also receptive in the same way of its own
nature : a thing which is possible to the

' Job ii. 6 (T.XX.).

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

'S^l

Trinity alone, which is so capable of perva-
ding every intellectual nature, that it cannot
only embrace and surround it but even insert
itself into it and, incorporeal though it is,
be infused into a body? For though we
maintain that some spiritual natures exist,
such as angels, archangels and the other
powers, and indeed our own souls and the
thin air, yet we ought certainly not to con-
sider them incorporeal. For they have in
their own fashion a body in which they exist,
though it is much finer than our bodies are,
in accordance with the Apostle's words when
he says: "And there are bodies celestial, and
bodies terrestrial : " and again : "• It is sown a
natural body, it is raised a spiritual body;" ^
from which it is clearly gathered that there is
nothing incorporeal but God alone, and there-
fore it is only by Him that all spiritual and
intellectual substances can be pervaded,
because He alone is whole and everywhere
and in all things, in such a way as to be-
hold and see the thoughts of men and their
inner movements and all the recesses of the
soul; since it was of Him alone that the
blessed Apostle spoke when he said : " For
the word of God is quick and powerful and
sharper than any two-edged sword, and pier-
cing even to the dividing of soul and spirit and
of the joints and marrow; and is a discerner
of the thoughts and intents of the heart; and
there is no creature invisible in His sight,
but all things are naked and open to His
eyes. '"' ^ And the blessed David says : " Who
fashioneth their hearts one by one; " and
again : " For He knoweth the secrets of the
heart ; " ^ and Job too : '" Thou who alone
knowest the hearts of men."*

CHAPTER XIV.

An objection, as to how we ought to believe that devils see
into the thoughts of men.

Germanus: In this way, which you de-
scribe, those spirits cannot possibly see into
our thoughts. But we think it utterlv absurd
to hold such an opinion, when Scripture
says: "If the spirit of him that hath power
ascend upon thee ; " ^ and again : " When the
devil had put it into the heart of Simon
Iscariot to betray the Lord." ® How then can
we believe that our thoughts are not open to
them, when we feel that for the most part they
spring up and are nursed by their suggestions
and instigation?

* I Cor. XV. 40, 44. * 2 Chron. vi. 30.
' Heb. iv. 12, 13. * Eccl. x. 4.

* Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) 15 ; xliii. (xliv.) 22. " S. John xiii. 2.

CHAPTER XV.

The answer what devils can and what they cannot do in
regard to the thoughts of men.

Serenus: Nobody doubts that unclean
spirits can influence the character of our
thoughts, but this is by affecting them from
without by sensible influences, i.e., either
from our inclinations or from our words, and
those likings to which they see that we are
especially disposed. But they cannot possibly
come near to those which have not yet come
forth from the inmost recesses of the soul.
And the thoughts too, which they suggest,
whether they are actually or in a kind of way
embraced, are discovered by them not from
the nature of the soul itself, i.e., that inner in-
clination which lies concealed so to speak in
the very marrow, but from motions and signs
given by the outward man, as for example,
when they suggest gluttony, if they have seen
a monk raising his eyes anxiously to the win-
dow or to the sun, or inquiring eagerly what
o'clock it is, they know that he has admitted
the feeling of greediness. If when they
suggest fornication they find him calmly sub-
mitting to the attack of lust, or see him .per-
turbed in body, or at any rate not groaning
as he ought under the wantonness of an im-
pure suggestion, they know that the dart of lust
is already fixed in his very soul. If they stir
up incitements to grief, or anger, or rage, they
can tell whether they have taken root in the
heart by the movements of the body, and
visible disturbances, when, for instance, they
have noticed him either groaning silently, or
panting with indignation or changing colour;
and so they cunningly discover the fault to
which he is given over. For they know that
every one of us is enticed in a regular way by
that one, to the incitement of which they see,
by a sort of assenting motion of the body, that
he has yielded his consent and agreement.
And it is no wonder that this is discovered
by those powers of the air, when we see that
even clever men can often discover the state
of the inner man from his mien and look and
external bearing. How much more surely
then can this be discovered by those who as
being of a spiritual nature are certainly much
more subtle and cleverer than men.

CHAPTER XVI.

An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean
spirits know the thoughts of men.

For just as some thieves are in the habit
of examining the concealed treasures of the

368

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men in those houses which they mean to rob,
and in the dark shades of night sprinkle with
careful hands little grains of sand and discover
the hidden treasures which they cannot see
by the tinkling sound with which they answer
to the fall of the sand, and so arrive at certain
knowledge of each thing and metal, which be-
trays itself in a way by the voice elicited from
it; so these too, in order to explore the trea-
sures of our heart, scatter over us the sand of
certain evil suggestions, and when they see
some bodily affection arise corresponding to
their character, they recognize as if by a sort
of tinkling sound proceeding from the inmost
recesses, what it is that is stored up in the
secret chamber of the inner man.

CHAPTER XVII.

On the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting
every passion toymen.

But we ought to know this, that not all
devils can implant all the passions in men,
but that certain spirits brood over each sin,
and that some gloat over uncleanness and filthy
.lusts, others over blasphemy, others are more
particularly devoted to anger and wrath,
others thrive on gloominess, others are paci-
fied with vainglory and pride ; and each one
implants in the hearts of men that sin. in
which he himself revels, and they cannot im-
plant their special vices all at one time, but
in turn, according as the opportunity of time
or place, or a man, who is open to their
suggestions, excites them.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A question whether among the devils there is any order
observed in the attack, or system in its changes.

Germanus: Must we then believe that
wickedness is arranged and so to speak sys-
tematized among them in such a wav that
there is some order in the changes observed
by them, and a regular plan of attack carried
out, though it is clear that method and system
can only exist among good and upright men,
as Scripture says: "Thou shalt seek wisdom
among the ungodly and shalt not find it; "
and: "our enemies are senseless; " and this:
"There is neither wisdom, nor courage, nor
counsel among the ungodly. " ^

' Prov. xiv. 6; Deut. xxxii. 31; Prov. xxi. 30 (LXX.).

CHAPTER XIX.

The answer how far an agreement exists among devils about
the attack and its changes.

Serenus: It is a true assertion that there is
no lasting cancord among bad men, and that
perfect harmony cannot exist even in regard
to those particular faults which have attrac-
tions for them all in common. For, as you
have said, it can never be that system and
discipline are preserved among undisciplined
things. But in some matters, where commu-
nity of interests, and necessity enforces it, or
participation in some gain recommends it, they
must arrange for some agreement for the time
being. And we see very clearly that this is
so in the case of this war of spiritual wicked-
ness ; so that not only do they observe times
and changes among themselves, but actually
are known specially to occupy some particular
spots and to haunt them persistently : for since
they must make their attacks through certain
fixed temptations and well defined sins, and
at particular times,- we clearly infer from this
that no one can at one and at the same time be
deluded by the emptiness of vainglory and
inflamed by the lust of fornication, nor at
one and the same time be puffed up by the out-
rageous haughtiness of spiritual pride, and
subject to the humiliation of carnal gluttony.
Nor can anyone be overcome by silly giggling
and laughter and at the same time be excited
by the stings of anger, or at any rate filled with
the pains of gnawing grief: but all the spirits
must one by one advance to attack the soul,
in such a way that when one has been van-
quished and retreated, he must make way for
another spirit to attack it still more vehe-
mently, or if he has come forth victorious, he
will none the less hand it over to be deceived
by another.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness,
and that the occasions of temptation are not under their
control.

We ought also not to be ignorant of this,
that they have not all the same fierceness and
energy, nor indeed the same boldness and
malice, and that with beginners and feeble
folk only the weaker spirits join battle, and
when these spiritual wickednesses are beaten,
then gradually the assaults of stronger ones
are made against the athlete of Christ. For
in proportion to a man's strength and pro-
gress, is the difficulty of the struggle made
greater: for none of the saints could possibly
be equal to the endurance of the malice of so

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

369

many and so sjreat foes, or meet their attacks,
or even bear their cruelty and savagery, were
it not that the merciful judge of our contest,
and president of the games, Christ Himself,
equalized the strength of the combatants, and
repelled and checked their excessive attacks,
and made with the temptation a way of escape
as well that we might be able to bear it.^

CHAPTER XXI.

Of the fact that devils struggle vvitli men not without effort on

their part.

But our belief is that they undertake this
struggle not without effort on their part. For
in their conflict they themselves have some
sort of anxiety and depression, and especially
when they are matched with stronger rivals,
i.e., saints and perfect men. Otherwise no
contest or struggle, but only a simple decep-
tion of men, and one free from anxiety on
their part would be assigned to them. And
how then would the Apostle's words stand,
where he says : " We wrestle not against flesh
and blood, but against principalities, against
powers, against world-rulers of this darkness,
ac^ainst spiritual wdckedness in heavenly
pTaces; " and this too: " So fight I, not as one
that beateth the air;" and again: "I have
fought a good fight " ? - For where it is spoken
of as a fight, and conflict, and battle, there
must be effort and exertion and, anxiety on both
sides, and equally there must either be in store
for them chagrin and confusion for their fai-
lure, or delight consequent upon their victory.
But where one fights with ease and security
against another who struggles with great
effort, and in order to overthrow his rival
makes use of his will alone as his strength,
there it ought not to be called a battle,
struggle, or strife, but a sort of unfair and un-
reasonable assault and attack. But they
certainly have to labour, and when they attack
men, exert themselves in no lesser degree in
order to secure from each one that victory
w^hich they w^ant to obtain, and there is hurled
back upon them the same confusion which
was awaiting us had we been worsted by them ;
as it is said: "The head of their compassing
me about, the labour of their own lips shall
overwhelm them; '* and: " His sorrow shall be
turned on his own head;" and again: "Let
the snare which he knoweth not come upon
him, and let the net which he hath hidden
catch him, and into that very snare let him
fall ; " ^ viz., that which he contrived for the de-

ception of men. They then themselves also
come to grief, and as they damage us so are
they also in like manner damaged by us, nor
when they are worsted do they depart without
confusion, and seeing these defeats of theirs
and their struggles, one who had good eyes in
his inner man, seeing also that they gloated
over the downfall and mischances of indivi-
duals, and fearing lest his own case might
furnish them with this kind of delight, prayed
to the Lord saying: "Lighten mine eyes that
I sleep not in death: lest mine enemy say, I
have prevailed against him. They that trouble
me will rejoice i"f I be moved;" and: "O My
God, let them not rejoice over me ; let them
not say in their hearts, Aha, Aha, our very
wish ; neither let them say, we have devoured
him;" and: "They gnashed their teeth upon
me. Lord, how long wilt Thou look on this ? '"'
for: "he lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his
den : he lieth in wait to ravish the poor ; " and :
"He seeketh from God his meat."* And
again when all their efforts are exhausted, and
they have failed to secure our deception, they
must " be confounded and blush " at the fai-
lure of their efforts, "who seek our soulsto
destroy them: and let them be covered ^yith
shame and confusion who imagine evil against

us." ^ Jeremiah also says: "Let them be con-
founded, and let not me be confounded : let
them be afraid, and let not me be afraid:
bring upon them the fury of Thy wrath, and
with a double destruction destroy them.'" ° For
no one can doubt that when they are van-
quished by us they will be destroyed with a
double destruction: first, because while men
are seeking after holiness, they, though they
possessed it, lost it, and became the cause
of man's ruin; secondly, because being spi-
ritual existences, they have been vanquished
by carnal and earthly ones. Each one then
of the saints when he looks on the destruction
of his foes and his own triumphs, exclaims
with delight: "I will follow after mine ene-
mies and overtake them : and I will not turn
until they are destroyed. I will break them
and they shall not be able to stand: they
shall fall under my feet," ' and in his prayers
i against them the same prophet says : " Judge
thou, O Lord, them that wrong me : overthrow
them that fight against me. Take hold of
I arms and shield: and rise up to help me.
Bring out the sword and shut up the way
against them that persecute me : say to my
Isoul, I am thy salvation."^ And when by

1 I Cor. X. 13. - Enh. \-i. 12 ; 1 Cor. ix. 26; 2 Tim. iv. 7.

3 Ps. cxxxix. (cxi.) 10; vii. 17; xxxiv. (xxxv.) S.

* Ps. xii. (xiii.) 4, 5! x>^xiv. (xxxv.) 24,28; 16, 17; ix. (x.) 9;
ciii.(civ.) 21. . -/IN.

0 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 15; XXXI V. (xxxv.) 26: xxxix. (xl.), 15-
6 Jer xvii. iS. ' Ps. xvii. (xviu.) 3S, 39.

8 Ps. xxiv. (xxxv.) 1-3.

370

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subduing and destroying all our passions we
have vanquished these, we shall then be per-
mitted to hear those words of blessing: "Thv
hand shall be exalted over thine enemies,
and all thine enemies shall perish."^ And
so when we read or chant all these and such
like passages found in holy writ, unless we
take them as written against those spiritual
wickednesses which lie in wait for us night
and day, we shall not only fail to draw from
them any edification to make us gentle and
patient, but shall actually meet with some
dreadful consequence and one that is quite
contrary to evangelical perfection. For we
shall not only not be taught to pray for or to
love our enemies, but actually shall be stirred
up to hate them with an implacable hatred,
and to curse them and incessantly to pour
forth prayers against them. And it is terribly
wrong and blasphemous to think that these
words were uttered in such a spirit by holy
men and friends of God, on whom before the
coming of Christ the law was not imposed
for the very reason that they went beyond its
commands, and chose rather to obey the pre-
cepts of the gospel and to aim at apostolical
perfection, though they lived before the dis-
pensation of the time.

CHAPTER XXII.

On the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the
will of the devils.

But that they have not the power of hurting
any man is shown in a very clear way by the
instance of the blessed Job, where the enemy
did not venture to try him beyond what was
allowed to him by the Divine permission;
and it is evidenced by the confession of the
same spirits contained in the records of the
gospel, where they say: "If Thou cast us out,
suffer us to go into the herd of swine.'' ^ And
far more must we hold that they cannot of
their own free will enter into any one of men
who are created in the image of God, if they
have not power to enter into dumb and un-
clean animals without the permission of God.
But no one — I will not say of the younger
men, whom we see living most steadfastly in
this desert, but even of those who are perfect —
could live alone in the desert, surrounded by
such swarms of foes of this kind, if they had
unlimited power and freedom to hurt and
tempt us: and still more clearly is this sup-
ported by the words of our Lord and Saviour,
which in the lowliness of the manhood He
had assumed. He uttered to Pilate, when He

'■ Micah V. g.

- S. Matt. Wii. 31.

said : " Thou couldest have no power against
Me at all, unless it were given thee from
above." ^

CHAPTER XXIII.

Of the diminished power of the devils.

But we have thoroughly discovered both by
our own experience and by the testimony of
the Elders that the devils have not now the
same power as they had formerly during the
early days of the anchorites, when yet there
were only a few monks living in the desert.
For such was their fierceness that it was with
difficulty that a few very steadfast men, and
those advanced in years were able to endure
a life of solitude. Since in the actual mo-
nasteries where eight or ten men used to live,
their violence attacked them so and their as-
saults were experienced so frequently, and
so visibly, that they did not dare all to go
to bed at once by night, but took turns and
while some snatched a little sleep, others kept
watch and devoted themselves to Psalms and
prayer and reading. And when the wants of
nature compelled them to sleep, they awoke
the others, and committed to them in like
manner the duty of keeping watch over those
who were going to bed. Whence we cannot
doubt that one of two things has brought about
this result not only in the case of us who seem
to be fairly strong from the experience which
our age gives us, but also in the case of
younger men as well. For either the malice
of the devils has been beaten back by the
power of the cross penetrating even to the
desert, and by its grace which shines every-
where; or else our carelessness makes them
relax something of their first onslaught, as
they scorn to attack us with the same energy
with which they formerly raged against those
most admirable soldiers of Christ; and by
this deceit and ceasing from open attacks
they do us still more damage. For we see
that some have fallen into so sluggish a con-
dition that they have to be coaxed by too
gentle exhortations for fear lest they should
forsake their cells and fall into more danger-
ous troubles, and wander and stray about and
be entangled in what I would call grosser
sins; and it is thought that a great thing is
got from them if they can even with some list-
lessness remain in the desert, and the Elders
often say to them as a great relief: Stop in
your cells, and eat and drink and sleep as
much as you like,'* if only you will stay in
them always.

3 S. Jolin xix. II.

* .So centuries later it is told of a Jesuit father that when one
wanted to relax the strictness of his fast, he replied, " Eat an ox,
but be a Christian."

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

Z7^

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of the way in wliich the devils prepare for themselves an
entrance into the bodies of those whom they are going
to possess.

It is clear then that unclean spirits cannot
make their way into those whose bodies they
are going to seize upon, in any other way than
by first taking possession of their minds and
thoughts.. And when they have robbed them
of fear and the recollection of God and spirit-
ual meditation, they boldly advance upon
them, as if they were dispossessed of all pro-
tection and Divine safeguard, and could
easily be bound, and then take up their dwell-
ing in them as if in a possession given over
to them.

CHAPTER XXV.

On the fact that those men are more wretched who are pos-
sessed by sins than those who are possessed by devils.

Although it is a fact that those men are
more grievously and severely troubled, who,
while they seem to be very little affected by
them in the body, are yet possessed in spirit
in a far worse way, as they are entangled in
their sins and lusts. For as the Apostle
says : " Of whom a man is overcome, of him he
is also the servant." Only that in this respect
they are more dangerously ill, because though
they are their slaves, yet they do not know
that they are assaulted by them, and under
their dominion. But we know that even
saintly men have been given over in the flesh
to Satan and to great afflictions for some very
slight faults, since the Divine mercy will not
suffer the very least spot or stain to be found
in them on the day of judgment, and purges
away in this world every spot of their filth, as ;
the prophet, or rather God Himself says, in |
order that He may commit them to eternity as
gold or silver refined and needing no penal |
purification. "'And," says He, "I will clean'
purge away thy dross, and I will take away|
all thy tin; and after this thou shalt be called
the city of the just, a faithful city." And
again: "Like as silver and gold are tried in
tJie furnace, so the Lord chooseth the hearts ; "
And again: "The fire tries gold and silver;
but man is tried in the furnace of humilia- :
tion;" and this also: " For whom the Lord!
loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every I
son whom He receiveth." -^

CHAPTER XXVI.

Of the deatli of the prophet who was led astray, and of the
infirmity of the Abbot I'aul, with which lie was visited for

the sake of his cleansing

And we see clear instance of this in the
case of that prophet and man of God in the
third book of Kings, who was straightway
destroyed by a lion for a single fault of dis-
obedience, in which he was implicated not of
set purpose nor by the fault of his own will but
by the enticement of another, as the Scripture
speaks thus of him: "It is the man of God,
who was disobedient to the mouth of the
Lord, and the Lord delivered him to the lion,
and it tare him according to the word of the
Lord, which He spake." ^ In which case the
punishment of the present offence and care-
lessness together with the reward of his right-
eousness, for which the Lord gave over his
prophet in this world to the destroyer, are
shown by the moderation and abstinence of
the beast of prey, as that most savage creature
did not dare even to taste the carcass that
was given over to him. And of the same
thing a very clear and plain proof has been
given in our own days in the case of the
Abbots Paul and Moses who lived in a spot
in this desert called Calamus,^ for the former
had formerly dwelt in the wilderness which
is hard by the city of Panephysis,* which we
know had only recently been made a wilder-
ness by an inundation of salt water; which
whenever the north wind blew, was driven
from the marshes and spreading over the
adjacent fields covered the face of the whole
district, so as to make the ancient villages,
which on this very account had been deserted
by all their inhabitants, look like islands.
Here, then, the Abbot Paul had made such
progress in purity of heart in the stillness and
silence of the desert, that he did not sufter, I
will not say a woman's face, but even the
clothes of one of that sex to appear in his
sight. For when as he was going to the cell
of one of the Elders together with Abbot
Archebius ^ who lived in the same desert, by
accident a woman met him, he was so dis-
gusted at meeting her that he dropped the
business of his friendly visit which he had
taken in hand and dashed back asrain to
his own monastery with greater speed than a
man would flee from the face of a lion 'or
terrible dragon; so that he was not moved
even by the shouts and pra3^ers of the afore-
said Abbot Archebius who called him back to

j - I Kings xiii. 26. ^ Cf. on the Institutes IV. xxx.

1 Is. i. 25, 26; Prov. xvii. 3 (LXX.); Ecclus. ii. 5; Heb. xii. 6. ; 3 Cf. on the Institutes X. xxiv. oQn Archebius cf. the note onXI.ii.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

go on with the journey they had undertaken
to ask the old man what they had proposed to
do. But though this was done in his eager-
ness for chastity and desire for purity, yet
because it was done not according to know-
ledge, and because the observance of disci-
pline, and the methods of proper strictness
were overstrained, for he imagined that not
merely familiarity with a woman (which is the
real harm,) but even the very form of that sex
was to be execrated, he was forthwith over-
taken by such a punishment that his whole
body was struck with paralysis, and none of
his limbs were able to perform their proper
functions, since not merely his hands and
feet, but even the movements of the tongue,
which enables us to frame our words, (were
affected) and his very ears lost the sense of
hearing, so that there was left in him nothing
more of his manhood than an immovable and
insensible figure. But he was reduced to
such a condition that the utmost care of men
was unable to minister to his infirmity, but
only the tender service of women could attend
to his wants: for when he was taken to a con-
vent of holy virgins, food and drink, which
he could not ask for even by signs, were
brought to him by female attendants, and for
the performance of all that nature required
he was ministered to by the same service for
nearly four years, i.e., to the end of his life.
And though he was affected by such weakness
of all his members that none of his limbs
retained their keen power of motion and feel-
ing, nevertheless such grace of goodness pro-
ceeded from him that when sick persons were
anointed with the oil which had touched
what should be called his corpse rather than
his body, they were instantly healed of all
diseases, so that as regards his own malady it
was made clearly and plainly evident even to
unbelievers that the infirmity of all his limbs
was caused by the providence and love of the
Lord, and that the grace of these healings
was granted by the power of the Holy Ghost
as a witness of his purity and a manifestation
of his merits.

CHy\PTER XXVI I.

On the temptation of Abbot Moses.

But the second person whom we mentioned
as living in this desert, although he was also a
remarkable and striking man, yet, in order to
punish a single word, to which in a dispute
with Abbot Macarius,^ he had given utterance

1 On Macarius see the note on tha Institutes V. xli.

somewhat too sharply, as he was anticipated
in some opinion, he was instantly delivered
to so dreadful a demon that he filled his
mouth with filth- which he supplied, and the
Lord showed by the quickness of his cure,
and the author of his healing, that He had
brought this scourge upon him to purify him,
that there might not remain in him any stain
from his momentary error: for as soon as
Abbot Macarius committed himself to prayer,
quicker than a word the evil spirit fled away
from him and departed.

CHAPTER XXVIH.

How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to
unclean spirits.

From which it plainly results that we ought
not to hate or despise those whom we see to
be delivered up to various temptations or to
those spirits of evil, because we ought firmly
to hold these two points: first, that none of
them can be tempted at all by them without
God's permission, and secondly that all things
which are brought upon us by God, whether
they seem to us at the present time .to be sad
or joyful, are inflicted for our advantage as by
a most kind father and most compassionate
physician, and that therefore men are, as it
were, given into the charge of schoolmasters,
and humbled in order that when they depart
out of this world they may be removed in a
state of greater purity to the other life, or
have a lighter punishment inflicted on them,
as they have been, as the Apostle says,
delivered over at the present time '' to Satan
for the destruction of the flesh that the spirit
may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." ^

CHAPTER XXIX.

An objection, asking why those who are tormented bv unclean
spirits are separated from the Lord"s communion.

Germanus: And how is it that we see
them not only scorned and shunned by every-
body, but actually always kept away from the
Lord's communion in our provinces, in accord-
ance with these words of the gospel : '' Give
not that which is holy to the dogs, neither cast
your pearls before swine; " ■* while you tell us
that somehow we ought to hold that the
humiliation of this temptation is brought
upon them with a view to their purification
and profit ?

- Hutnatias egestumes. ' i Cor. v. 5. 4 S. Matt. vii. 6.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

?>72>

CHAPTER XXX.

The answer to the question raised.

Serenus: If we had tins knowledge or
ratlier faith, of which 1 treated above; viz.,
to believe that all things were brought about
by God, and ordered for the good of our souls,
we should not only never despise them, but
rather pray without ceasing for them as our
own members, and sympathize with them with
all our hearts and the fullest affection (for
''when one member suffers, all the members
suffer with it " \), as we know that we cannot
possibly be perfected without them inasmuch
as they are members of us, just as we read
that our predecessors could not attain the
fulness of promise without us, as the Apostle
speaks of them as follows: "And these all
being approved by the testimony of faith,
received not the promise, God providing some
better thing for us that Ihey should not be
perfected without us." ^ But we never remem-
ber that holy communion was forbidden them;
nay rather if it were possible, they thought
that it ought to be given to them daily ; nor
indeed according to the words of the gospel
which you incongruously apply in this sense
" Give not that which is holy to dogs," ^ ought
we to believe that holy communion becomes
food for the demon, and not a purification
and safeguard of body and soul ; for when it
is received by a man it, so to speak, burns
out and puts to flight the spirit which has
its seat in his members or is trying to lurk
in them. For in this way we have lately seen
Abbot Andronicus and many others cured.
For the enemy will more and more abuse the
man who is possessed, if he sees him cut off
from the heavenly medicine, and will tempt
him more often and more fearfully, as he sees
him removed the further from this spiritual
remedy.^

CHAPTER XXXI.

On the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it
is not given to be subjected to those temporal temptations.

But we ought to consider those men truly
wretched and miserable in whose case, al-
though they defile themselves with all kinds
of sins and wickedness, yet not only is there
no visible sign of the devil's possession
shown in them, nor is any temptation propor-

' I Cor. xii. 26. - Heb. xi. 39, 40. ^ S. Matt. vii. 6.

^ The question whether the Hnly Communion should ever be
given to those possessed is discussed by S. Thomas Aquinas, in the
Summa III. Q. Ixxx. Art. 9, and answered in the affirmative, the
authorities quoted in its favour being this passage from Cassian, and
the third Canon of the ist Council of Orange (A.D. 441).

tionate to their actions, nor any scourge of
punishment brought to bear upon them. For
they are vouchsafed no swift and immediate
remedy in this v/orld, whose "hardness and
impenitent heart," being too much for punish-
ment in this life, "heapeth up for itself wrath
and indignation in the day of wrath and reve-
lation of the righteous judgment of God,"
"where their worm dieth not, and their fire is
not quenched." ° Against whom the prophet
as if perplexed at the affliction of the saints,
when he sees them subject to various losses
and temptations, and on the other hand sees
sinners not only passing through the course
of this world without any scourge of humilia-
tion, but even rejoicing in great riches, and
the utmost prosperity in everything, inflamed
with uncontrollable indignation and fervour of
spirit, exclaims : " But as for me, my feet had
almost gone, my treadings had well nigh
slipped. For I was grieved at the wicked,
when I saw the peace of sinners. For there
is no regard to their death, nor is there
strength in their stripes. They are not in the
labour of men, neither shall they be scourged
like other men," ^ since hereafter they shall be
punished with the devils, to whom in this
world it was not vouchsafed to be scourged
in the lot and discipline of sons, together with
men. Jeremiah also, when conversing with
God on this prosperity of sinners, although he
never professes to doubt about the justice of
God, as he says "for Thou art just, O Lord,
if I dispute with Thee," yet in his inquiry
as to the reasons of this inequality, proceeds
to say: "But yet I will speak what is just
to Thee. Why doth the way of the wicked
prosper? Why is it well with all them
that transgress and do wickedly? Thou hast
planted them and they have taken root : they
prosper and bring forth fruit. Thou art near
in their mouth and far from their reins." '^
And when the Lord mourns for their destruc-
tion by the prophet, and anxiously directs
doctors and physicians to heal them, and in a
manner urges them on to a similar lamenta-
tion and says: "Babylon is suddenly fallen:
she is destroyed. Howl for her: take balm for
her pain, if so she may be healed; " then, in
their despair, the angels, to whom is entrusted
the care of man's salvation, make reply; or at
any rate the prophet in the person of the
Apostles and spiritual men and doctors who
see the hardness of their soul, and their im-
penitent heart: "We have healed Babylon:
but she is not cured. Let us forsake her,
and let us go every man to his own land
because her judgment hath reached even to

5 Rom. ii. 5 ; Is. lx\a. 24. " Ps. Ixxii. (Ixxiii.) 2-5. ' Jer. xii. i, 2.

374

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the heavens, and is lifted up to the clouds." ^
Of their desperate feebleness then Isaiah
speaks in the Person of God to Jerusalem:
" From the sole of the foot unto the top of the
head there is no soundness therein : wounds
and bruises and swelling sores: they are not
bound up nor dressed nor fermented with oil." ^

CHAPTER XXXII.

Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers
of the air.

But it is clearly proved that there exist in
unclean spirits as many desires as there are in
men. For some of them, which are com-
monly called Plani,^ are shown to be so
seductive and sportive that, when they have
taken continual possession of certain places or
roads, they delight themselves not indeed with
tormenting the passers by whom they can
deceive, but, contenting themselves merely
with laughing at them and mocking them,
try to tire them out rather than to injure
them : while some spend the night merely by
harmlessly taking possession of men, though
others are such slaves to fury and ferocity that
they are not simply content with hurting the
bodies of those, of whom they have taken
possession, by tearing them in a dreadful
manner, but actually are eager to rush upon
those who are passing by at a distance, and to
attack them with most savage slaughter: like
those described in the gospel, for fear of
whom no man dared to pass by that way.
And there is no doubt that these and such as
these in their insatiable fury delight in wars
and bloodshed. Others we find affect the
hearts of those Avhom they have seized with
empty pride, (and these are commonly called
Bacucei * ) so that they stretch themselves up
beyond their proper height and at one time
puff themselves up with arrogance and pom-
posity, and at another time condescend in an
ordinary and bland manner, to a state of calm-
ness and affability: and as they fancy that
they are great people and the wonder of every-
body, at one time show by bowing their body
that they are worshipping higher powers, while
at another time they think that they are wor-
shipped by others, and so go through all those
movements which express true service either
proudly or humbly. Others we find are not
only keen for lies, but also inspire men with
blasphemies. And of this we ourselves can

I Jer. !i. 8, 9. = Is. i. 6.

■' " UAai-oi," "Seducers," if the reading be correct: but some
MSS. have " Fauni."

* The oririn of tins term is obscure.

testify as we have heard a demon openly con-
fessing that he had proclaimed a wicked and
impious doctrine by the mouths of Arius and
Eunomius. And the same thing we read that
one of them openly proclaimed in the fourth
book of Kings: "I will go forth," he said,
"and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of
all his prophets."^ On which the Apostle,
when reproving those who are deceived by
them, adds as follows: "giving heed to sedu-
cing spirits and doctrines of devils speaking
lies in hypocrisy." ^ And that there are other
kinds of devils which are deaf and dumb the
gospels testify. And that some spirits incite
to lust and wantonness the prophet maintains
saying: "The spirit of fornication deceived
them and they went astray from their God." '
In the same way the authority of Scripture
teaches us that there are demons of the night
and of the day and of the noonday : ^ But it
would take too long to search through the
whole of Scripture and run through the differ-
ent kinds of them, as they are termed by the
prophets onocentaurs, satyrs, sirens, witches,
howlers, ostriches, urchins; and asps and
basilisks in the Psalms; and are called lions,
dragons, scorpions in the gospel, and are
named by the Apostle the prince of this world,
rulers of this darkness, and spirits of wicked-
ness.® And all these names we ought not to
take as given at random or hap-hazard, but
as alluding to their fierceness and madness
under the sign of those wild beasts which are
more or less harmful and dangerous among us,
and by comparing them to the poisonous
wickedness or power which among other
beasts or serpents, some pre-eminence in evil
confers on them, they are called by their
names, in such a way that to one is assigned
the name of lion because of the fury of his
rage and the madness of his anger, to another
that of basilisk because of his deadly poison,
which kills a person before it is perceived,
and to another that of onocentaur or urchin
or ostrich because of his sluggish malice.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of
evil in the sky.

Germanus : We certainly do not doubt that
those orders which the Apostle enumerates
refer to them : " For we wrestle not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities,

'' I Kings xxii. 22. 7 Hos. iv. 12.

" I Tim. iv. 1,2. * Ps. xc. (xci.) 5, 6.

" Cf. Is. xiii. 21, 22; xxxiv. 13, 15; Ps. xc. (xci.) 13; S. Luke
X. 19; S.John xiv. 30. Eph. vi. 12.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

375

against powers, against the world-rulers of
this darkness, against spirits of wickedness in
heavenly places:"^ but we want to know
whence comes such a difference between them,
or how such grades of wickedness exist?
Were they created for this, to meet with these
orders of evil, and in some way to serve this
wickedness?

CHAPTER XXXIV.

The postponement of the answer to the question raised.

Serenus: Although your proposals would
rob us of our whole night's rest,' so that we
should not notice the approach of the rising
dawn, and should be tempted greedily to
prolong our conference till sunrise, yet since
the solving of the question raised, if we

began to trace it put, would launch us on a
wide and deep sea of questions, which the
shortness of the time at our disposal would
not permit us to traverse, I think it will be
more convenient to reserve it for consider-
ation another night, when by the raising of
this question I shall receive from your very
ready converse some spiritual joy and richer
fruit, and we shall be able if the Holy Spirit
grants us a prosperous breeze to penetrate
more freely into the intricacies of the ques-
tions raised. Wherefore let us enjoy a little
sleep, and so shake off the drowsiness that
steals over our eyes, as the dawn approaches,
and then we will go together to church, for
the observance of Sunday bids us do this, and
after service will come back, and as you wish,
discuss with redoubled delight what the Lord
may have given to us for our common im-
provement.

VIII.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

ON PRINCIPALITIES.

CHAPTER I.

Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus.

When we had finished the duties of the
day, and the congregation had been dis-
missed from Church we returned to the old
man's cell, and enjoyed a most sumptuous
repast. For instead of the sauce which with
a few drops of oil spread over it was usually
set on the table for his daily meal, he mixed
a little decoction and poured over it a some-
what more liberal allowance of oil than usual;
for each of them when he is going to partake
of his daily repast, pours those drops of oil on,
not that he may receive any enjoyment from
the taste of it (for so limited is the supply
that it is hardly enough I will not say to
line the passage of his throat and jaws, but
even to pass down it) but that using it, he
may keep down the pride of his heart (which is
certain to creep in stealthily and surely if his
abstinence is any stricter) and the incitements
to vainglory, for as his abstinence is practised
with the greater secrecy, and is carried on
without anyone to see it, so much the more

* Eph. vi. 12.

subtly does it never cease to tempt the man
who conceals it. Then he set before us table
salt, and three olives each: after which he
produced a basket containing parched vetches
which they call trogalia,- from which we each
took five grains, two prunes and a fig apiece.
For it is considered wrong for anyone to ex-
ceed that amount in that desert. And when
we had finished this repast and had begun
to ask him again for his promised solution
of the question, "Let us hear," said the old
man, "your question, the consideration of
which we postponed till the present time."

CHAPTER H.

Statements on the different kinds of spiritual wickednesses.

Then Germanus: We want to know what
is the origin of the great variety of hostile
powers opposed to men, and the difference
between them, which the blessed Apostle
sums up as follows: "We wrestle not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against the world-rulers of this
darkness, against spiritual wickedness in hea-

- Cf. Horace, De Arte Poetica, 1. 249.

2,1^

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venly places : "^ and again : "^Neither angels nor
principalities nor powers nor any other crea-
ture, can separate us from the love of God
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. " ^ Whence
then arises the enmity of all this malice
jealous of us? Are we to believe that those
powers were created by the Lord for this; viz.,
to fight against men in these grades and
orders ?

CHAPTER in.

' The answer on the many kinds of food provided in holy
Scripture.

Serenus : The authority of holy Scripture
says on those points on which it would inform
us some things so plainly and clearly even to
those who are utterly void of understanding,
that not only are they not veiled in the
obscurity of any hidden meaning, but do not
even require the help of any explanation, but
carry their meaning and sense on the surface
of the words and letters : but some things are
so concealed and involved in mysteries as to
offer us an immense field for skill and care
in the discussion and explanation of them.
And it is clear that God has so ordered it
for many reasons: first for fear lest the holy
mysteries, if they were covered by no veil of
spiritual meaning, should be exposed equally
to the knowledge and understanding of every-
body, i.e., the profane as well as the faithful,
and thus there might be no difference in the
matter of goodness and prudence between the
lazy and the earnest: next that among those
who are indeed of the household of faith,
while immense differences of intellectual
power open out before them, there might be
the opportunity of reproving the slothfulness
of the idle, and of proving the keenness and
diligence of the earnest. And so holy Scrip-
ture is fitly compared to a rich and fertile field,
which, while bearing and producing much which
is good for man's food without being cooked
by fire, produces some things which are found
to be unsuitable for man's use or even harm-
ful unless they have lost all the roughness of
their raw condition by being tempered and
softened down by the heat of fire. But some
are naturally fit for use in both states, so that
even when uncooked they are not unpleasant
from their raw condition, but still are ren-
dered more palatable by being cooked and
heated by fire. Many more things too are
produced only fit for the food of irrational

Eph. vi. 12.

- Rom. viii. 38, 39.

creatures, and cattle, and wild animals and
birds, but utterly useless as food for men,
which while still in their rough state without
being in any way touched by fire, conduce
to the health and life of cattle. And we can
clearly see that the same system holds good
in that most fruitful garden of the Scriptures
of the Spirit, in which some things shine
forth clear and bright in their literal sense,
in such a way that while they have no need of
any higher interpretation, they furnish abun-
dant food and nourishment in the simple
sound of the words, to the hearers: as in this
passage: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy
God is one Lord;" and: "Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all
thy soul, and with all thy strength." ^ But there
are some which, unless they are weakened down
by an allegorical interpretation, and softened
by the trial of the fire of the spirit cannot
become wholesome food for the inner man
without injury and loss to him; and damage
rather than profit will accrue to him from
receiving them : as with this passage : " But
let your loins be girded up and your lights
burning;" and: " whosoever has no sword,
let him sell his coat and buy himself a sword ; "
and : " whosoever taketh not up his cross
and followeth after Me is not worthy of Me ; " *
a passage which some most earnest monks,
having " indeed a zeal for God, but not ac-
cording to knowledge" '^ understood literally,
and so made themselves wooden crosses, and
carried them about constantly on their shoul-
ders, and so were the cause not of edification
but of ridicule on the part of all who saw
them. But some are capable of being taken
suitable and properly in both ways, i.e., the
historical and allegorical, so that either ex-
planation furnishes a healing draught to the
soul; as this passage: "If anyone shall smite
thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other
also ; " and : " when they persecute you in one
city, flee to another;" and: "if thou wilt be
perfect, go, sell all that thou hast and give to
the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in
heaven, and come follow Me." ^ It produces
indeed "grass for the cattle " also, (and of this
food all the fields of Scripture are full); viz.,
plain and simple narratives of history, by
which simple folk, and those who are incapable
of perfect and sound understanding (of whom
it is said "Thou, Lord, wilt save both man
and beast") "^ may be made stronger and more
vigorous for their hard work and the labour of
actual life, in accordance with the state and
measure of their capacity.

3 Deut. vi. 4, 5. ♦ S. Luke xii. 35; xxii. 36; S. Matt. x. 38.

■"' Rom. X. 2. ' S. Matt. V. 39; X. 23 ; xix.2i. ' Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 7.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

Ill

CHAPTER IV.

Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken.

Wherefore on those passages which are
brought forward with a clear explanation we
also can constantly lay down the meaning and
boldly state our own opinions. But those
which the Holy Spirit, reserving for our medi-
tation and exercise, has inserted in holy
Scripture with veiled meaning, wishing some of
them to be gathered from various proofs and
conjectures, ought to be step by step and care-
fully brought together, so that their assertions
and proofs may be arranged by the discretion
of the man who is arguing or supporting them.
For sometimes when a difference of opinion is
expressed on one and the same subject, either
view may be considered reasonable and be
held without injury to the faith either firmly,
or doubtfully, i.e., in such a way that neither
is full belief nor absolute rejection accorded
to it, and the second view need not interfere
with the former, if neither of them is found
to be opposed to the faith : as in this case :
where Elias came in the person of John,^ and
is again to be the precursor of the Lord's
Advent: and in the matter of the "Abomina-
tion of desolation " which " stood in the holy
place," by means of that idol of Jupiter which,
as we read, was placed in the temple in Jeru-
salem, and which is again to stand in the
Church through the coming of Antichrist," and
all those things which follow in the gospel,
which we take as having been fulfilled before
the captivity of Jerusalem and still to be ful-
filled at the end of this world. In which mat-
ters neither view is opposed to the other, nor
does the first interpretation interfere with the
second.

CHAPTER V.

Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included
among those things to be held in a neutral or doubtful way.

And therefore since the question raised by
us, does not seem to have been sufficiently
or often ventilated among rnen, and is not
clear to most people, and from this fact what
we bring forward may perhaps appear to some
to be doubtful, we ought to regulate our owm
view (since it does not interfere with faith
in the Trinity) so that it may be included
among those things which are to be held
doubtfully; although they rest not on mere
opinions such as are usually given to guesses
and conjectures, but on clear Scripture proof.

1 Cf. S. Matt. xi. 14.

2 See Dan. ix. 27; 2 Mace. vi. 2; S. Matt. xxiv. 15 sq.

CHAPTER VI

Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God.

God forbid that we should admit that God
has created anything which is substantially
evil, as Scripture says "everything that God
had made was very good. " ^ For if they were
created by God such as they are now, or made
for this purpose ; viz. , to occupy these positions
of malice, and ever to be ready for the decep-
tion and ruin of men, we should in opposition
to the view of the above quoted Scripture
slander God as the Creator and author of
evil, as having Himself formed utterly evil
wills and natures, creating them for this very
purpose; viz., that they might ever persist
in their wickedness and never pass over to the
feeling of a good will. The following reason
then of this diversity is what we received
from the tradition of the fathers, being drawn
from the fount of Holy Scripture.

CHAPTER VII.

Of the origin of principalities or powers.

None of the faithful question the fact that
before the formation of this visible creation
God made spiritual and celestial powers, in
order that owing to the very fact that they knew
that they had been formed out of nothing by
the goodness of the Creator for such glory and
bliss, they might render to Him continual
thanks and ceaselessly continue to praise Him.
For neither should we imagine that God for the
first time began to originate His creation and
work with the formation of this world, as if
in those countless ages beforehand He had
taken no thought of Providence and the
divine ordering of things, and as if we could
believe that having none towards whom to
show the blessings of His goodness. He had
been solitary, and a stranger to all bountiful-
ness; a thing which is too poor and unsuitable
to fancy of that boundless and eternal and in-
comprehensible Majesty; as the Lord Himself
says of these powers : " When the stars were
made together, all my angels praised Me
with a loud voice."* Those then who were
present at the creation of the stars, are most
clearly proved to have been created before
that "beginning" in which it is said that
heaven and earth were made, inasmuch as
they are said with loud voices and admiration
to have praised the Creator because of all
those visible creatures which, as they saw^

2 Gen. I. 31.

* Job xxxviii. 7 (LXX.).

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proceeded forth from nothing. Before then
that beginning in time which is spoken of by
Moses, and which according to the historic
and Jewish interpretation denotes the age of
this world (without prejudice to our interpre-
tation, according to which we explain that the
'"beginning," of all things is Christ, in whom
the Father created all things, as it is said "All
things were made by him, and without Him
was not anything made,") ^ before, I say, that
beginning of Genesis in time there is no
question that God had already created all
those powers and heavenly virtues; which
the Apostle enumerates in order and thus
describes: "'For in Christ were created all
things both in heaven and on earth, visible
and invisible, whether they be angels or arch-
angels, whether they be thrones or dominions,
whether they be principalities or powers. All
things were made by Him and in Him." -

CHAPTER VHI.

Of the fall of the devil and the angels.

And so we are clearly shown that out of
that number of them some of the leaders fell,
by the lam.entations of Ezekiel and Isaiah, in
which we know that the prince of Tyre or that
Lucifer who rose in the morning is lamented
with a doleful plaint: and of him the Lord
speaks as follows to Ezekiel : " Son of man, take
up a lamentation over' the prince of Tyre, and
say to him: Thus saith the Lord God: Thou
wast the seal of resemblance, full of wisdom,
perfect in beauty. Thou wast in the pleasures
of the paradise of God : every precious stone
was thy covering : the sardius, the topaz and
the jasper, the chrysolyte and the onyx and
the beryl, the sapphire and the carbuncle
and the emerald : gold the work of thy beauty,
and thy pipes were prepared in the day that
thou wast created. 'Ihou wast a cherub
•stretched out and protecting, and I set thee
in the holy mountain of God, thou hast
walked in the midst of the stones of fire.
Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day of
thy creation, until iniquity was found in thee.
By the multitude of thy merchandise thy
inner parts were filled with iniquity and thou
hast sinned: and I cast thee out from the
mountain of God, and destroyed thee, O
covering cherub, out of the midst of the stones
of fire. And thy heart was lifted up with thy
beauty: thou hast lost thy wisdom in thy
beauty, I have cast thee to the ground : I have
set thee before the face of kings, that they

might behold thee. Thou hast defiled thy
sanctuaries by the multitude of thy iniquities
and by the iniquity of thy traffic." ^ Isaiah
also says of another: "How art thou fallen
from heaven, O Lucifer, who didst rise in
the morning? how art thou fallen to the
ground, that didst wound the nations? and
thou saidst in thine heart, I will ascend into
heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars
of God, I will sit in the mountain of the
covenant, in the sides of the north. I will
ascend above the heights of the clouds. I
will be like the Most High."^ But Holy
Scripture relates that these fell not alone from
that summit of their station in bliss, as it tells
us that the dragon dragged down together with
himself the third part of the stars.^ One of
the Apostles too says still more plainly: "But
the angels who kept not their first estate, but
left their own dwelling. He hath reserved
in everlasting chains under darkness to the
judgment of the great day." ® This too which
is said to us: " But ye shall die like men and
fall like one of the princes," '^ what does it
imply but that many princes have fallen?
And by these testimonies we can gather the
reason for this diversity; viz., either that they
still retain those differences of rank (which
adverse powers are said to possess, after the
manner of holy and heavenly virtues) from
the station of their former rank in which they
were severally created, or else that, though
themselves cast clown from heavenly places,
yet, as a reward for that wickedness of theirs
in which they have graduated in evil, they
claim in perversity these grades and titles of
rank among themselves, by way of copying
those virtues which have stood firm there.

CHAPTER IX.

An objection stating that the fall of the devil took its origin
from the deception of God.

Germanus : Up till now we used to believe
that the reason and commencement of the ruin
and fall of the devil, in which he was cast out
from his heavenly estate, was more particu-
larly envy, when in his spiteful subtlety hie
deceived Adam and Eve.

CHAPTER X.

The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall.

Skrenus: The passage in Genesis shows
that that was not the beginning of his fall and

1 S. John i. 3.

2 Col. i. 16.

3 Ezek. xxviii. 11-18. < Is. xiv. 12-14. ° Cf. Rev. xii. 4.
0 Ep. of S. Jude, ver. 6. ' Ps. Ixxxi. (Ixxx.) 7.

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379

ruin, as before their deception it takes the
view that he had already been branded with
the ignominy of the name of the serpent, where
it says: '" But the serpent was wiser" or as the
Hebrew copies express it, "more subtle than
all the beasts of the earth, which the Lord
God had made." ^ You see then that he had
fallen away from his angelic holiness even
before he deceived the first man, so that he
not only deserved to be stamped with the
ignominy of this title, but actually excelled all
other beasts of the earth in the subterfuges of
wickedness. For Holy Scripture would not
have designated a good angel by such a term,
nor would it say of those who were still con-
tinuing in that state of bliss: '' But the serpent
was wiser than all the beasts of the earth."
For this title could not possibly be applied
I say not to Gabriel or Michael, but it would
not even be suitable to any good man. And
so the title of serpent and the comparison to
beasts most clearly suggests not the dignity of
an angel but the infamy of an apostate.
Finally the occasion of the envy and seduc-
tion, which led him to deceive man, arose
from the ground of his previous fall, in that he
saw that man, who had but recently been
formed out of the dust of the ground, was to
be called to that glory, from which he remem-
bered that he himself, while still one of the
princes, had fallen. And so that first fall of
his, which was due to pride, and which obtained
for him the name of the serpent, was followed
by a second owing to envy: and as this one
found him still in the possession of something
upright so that he could enjoy some inter-
change of conference and counsel with man,
by the Lord's sentence he was very properly
cast down to the lowest depth, that he might
no longer walk as before erect, and looking
up on high, but should cleave to the ground
and creep along, and be brought low upon his
belly and feed upon the earthly food and works
of sins, and henceforward proclaim his secret
hostility, and put between himself and man
an enmity that is to our advantage, and a dis-
cord that is to our profit, so that while men
are on their guard against him as a dangerous
enemy, he can no longer injure them by a
deceptive show of friendship.

CHAPTER XL

The punishment of the deceiver and tlie deceived.

But we ought in this matter, in order that
we may shun evil counsels, to learn a special

1 Gen. iii. i.

lesson from the fact that though the author
of the deception was visited with a fitting
punishment and condemnation, yet still the
one who was led astray did not go scot free
from punishment, although it was somewhat
lighter than that of him who was the author
of the deception. And this we see was very
plainly expressed. For Adam who was de-
ceived, or rather (to use the Apostle's words)
"was not deceived" but, acquiescing in the
wishes of her who was deceived, seems to
have come to yield a consent that was
deadly, is only condemned to labour and the
sweat of his brow, which is assigned to him
not by means of a curse upon himself, but
by means of a curse upon the ground, and its
barrenness. But the woman, who persuaded
him to this, is visited with an increase of
anguish, and pains and sorrow, and also
given over to the yoke of perpetual subjection.
But the serpent who was the first to incite
them to this ofi'ence, is punished by a lasting
curse. Wherefore we should with the utmost
f care and circumspection be on our guard
against evil counsels, for as they bring punish-
ment upon their authors, so too they do not
suffer those who are deceived by them to go
free from guilt and punishment.

CHAPTER Xn.

Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they
always raise in our atmosphere.

But the atmosphere which extends between
heaven and earth is ever filled with a thick
crowd of spirits, which do not fly about in
it quietly or idly, so that most fortunately
the divine providence has withdrawn them
from human sight. For through fear of
their attacks, or horror at the forms, into
which they transform and turn themselves
at will, men would either be driven out
of their wits by an insufferable dread, and
faint away, from inability to look on such
things with bodily eyes, or else would daily
grow worse and worse, and be corrupted by
their constant example and by imitating them,
and thus there would arise a sort of danger-
ous familiarity and deadly intercourse between
men and the unclean powers of the air, where-
as those crimes which are now committed
among men, are concealed either by walls
and enclosures or by distance and space, or by
some shame and confusion : but if they could
always look on them with open face, they
would be stimulated to a greater pitch of in-
sanity, as there would not be a single moment
in which they would see them desist from their

;8o

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wickedness, since no bodily weariness, or
occupation in business or care for their daily
food (as in our case) forces them sometimes
even against their will to desist from the
purpose's they have begun to carry out.

CHAPTER XIII.

Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack, which they
aim at men, even against each other.

For it is quite clear that they aim these
attacks, with which they assault men, even
against each other, for in like manner they
do not cease to promote with unwearied strife
the discords and struggles which they have
undertaken for some peoples because of a sort
of innate love of wickedness which they
have: and this we read of as being very
clearly set forth in the vision of Daniel
the prophet, where the angel Gabriel speaks
as follows: " Fear not, Daniel: for from the
first day that thou didst set thy heart to un-
derstand, to afflict thyself in the sight of thy
God, thy words have been heard : and I am
come for thy words. But the prince of the
kingdom of the Persians resisted me one and
twenty days: and behold Michael one of_ the
chief princes came to help me, and I remained
there by the king of the Persians. But I am
come to teach thee what things shall befall
thy people in the latter days." ^ And we can-
not possibly doubt that this prince of the
kingdom of the Persians was a hostile power,
which favoured the nation of the Persians an
enemy of God's people; for in order to hinder
the good which it saw would result from the
solution of the question for which the prophet
prayed the Lord, by the archangel, in its
jealousy it opposed itself to prevent the
saving comfort of the angel from reaching
Daniel too speedily, and from strengthen-
ing the people of God, over which the
archangel Gabriel was: and the latter said
that even then, owing to the fierceness of his
assaults, he would not have been able to come
to him, had not Michael the archangel come
to help him, and met the prince of the king-
dom of the Persians, and joined battle with
him, and intervened, and defended him from
his attack, and so enabled him to come to in-
struct the prophet after twenty-one days. And
a little later on it says: "And the angel said:
Dost thou know wherefore I am come to thee ?
And now I will return to fight against the
prince of the Persians. For when I went
forth, there appeared tlie prince of the Greeks
coming. But I will tell thee what is written

down in the Scriptures of truth: and none is
' my helper in all these things but Michael
' your prince." - And again : "At that time shall
^ Michael rise up, the great prince, who stand-
eth for the children of thy people."^ So then
we read that in the same way another was
called the prince of the Greeks, who since he
was patron of that nation which was subject
to him seems to have been opposed to the
nation of the Persians as well as to the people
of Israel. From which we clearly see that
antagonistic powers raise against each other
those quarrels of nations, and conflicts and
dissensions,' which they show among them-
selves at their instigation, and that they either
exult at their victories or are cast down at
their defeats, and thus cannot live in harmony
among themselves, while each of them is
always striving with restless jealousy on be-
half of those whom he presides over, against
the patron of some other nation.

CHAPTER XIV.

How it is that spiritual wickednesses obtained the names of
powers or principalities.

We can then see clear reasons, in addition
to those ideas which we expounded above,
why they are called principalities or powers;
viz., because they rule and preside over
different nations, and at least hold sway
over inferior spirits and demons, of which
the gospels give us evidence by their own
confession that there exist legions. For they
could not be called lords unless they had
some over whom to exercise the sway of lord-
ship; nor could they be called powers or
principalities, unless there were some over
whom they could claim power : and this we find
pointed out very clearly in the gospel by the
Pharisees in their blasphemy : " He casteth out
devils by Beelzebub the prince of the devils, " *
for we find that they are also called "rulers of
darkness," ^ and that one of them is styled " the
prince of this world. "^ But the blessed
Apostle declares that hereafter, when all
things shall be subdued to Christ, these
orders shall be destroyed, saying: "When
He shall have delivered up the kingdom to
God even the Father, when He shall have
destroyed all principalities and powers and
dominions."'' And this certainly can only
take place if they are removed from the sway
of those over whom we know that powers
and dominions and principalities take charge
in this world.

1 Dan. X. 12-14.

2 Dan. X. 20, 21. * S. Luke xi. 15.

3 Dan. xii. i. '' Eph. vi. 12.

o S. John xiv. 30.
' I Cor. XV. 24.

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CHAPTER XV.

Of the fact that it is not without reason that the names of
angels and archangels are given to holy and heavenly
powers.

For no one doubts that not without cause
or reason are the same titles of rank assigned
to the better sort, and that they are names of
office and of worth or dignity, for it is plain
that they are termed angels, i.e., messengers
from their office of bearing messages, and the
appropriateness of the name teaches that they
are "archangels" because they preside over
angels, "dominions " because they hold domin-
ion over certain persons, and "principalities''
because they have some to be princes over,
and " thrones " because they are so near to God
and so privy and close to Him that the Divine
Majesty specially rests in them as in a Divine
throne, and in a way reclines surely on them.

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their
own princes, as seen in a brother's victim.

But that unclean spirits are ruled over by
worse powers and are subject to them we not
only find from those passages of Scripture,
recorded in the gospels when the Pharisees
maligned the Lord, and He answered " If I by
Beelzebub the prince of the devils cast out
devils,"^ but we are also taught this by clear
visions and many experiences of the saints,
for when one of our brethren was making a
journey in this desert, as day was now declin-
ing he found a cave and stopped there mean-
ing to say his evening office in it, and there
midnight passed while he was still singing
the Psalms. And when after he had finished
his office he sat down a little before refresh-
ing his wearied body, on a sudden he began
to see innumerable troops of demons gather-
ing together on all sides, who came forward
in an immense crowd, and a long line, some
preceding and others following their prince;
who at length arrived, being taller and more
dreadful to look at than all the others ; and,
a throne having been placed, he sat down as
on some lofty tribunal, and began to investi-
gate by a searching examination the actions
of each one of them ; and those who said
that they had not yet been able to circumvent
their rivals, he commanded to be driven out
of his sight with shame and ignominy as idle
and slothful, rebuking them with angry wrath
for the waste of so much time, and for their

* S. Luke xi. 19.

labour thrown away: but those who reported
that they had deceived those assigned to them,
he dismissed before all with the highest praise
amidst the exultation and applause of all,
as most brave warriors, and most renowned as
an example to all the rest : and when in this
number some most evil spirit had presented
himself, in delight at having to relate some
magnificent triumph, he mentioned the name
of a very well known monk, and declared that
after having incessantly attacked him for fif-
teen years, he had at last got the better of him,
so as to destroy him that very same night by
the sin of fornication, for that he had not
only impelled him to commit adultery with
some consecrated maid, but had actually
persuaded him to keep her and marry her.
And when there arose shouts of joy at this
narrative, he was extolled with the highest
praise by the prince of darkness, and departed
crowned with great honours. And so when at
break of day the whole swarm of demons had
vanished from his eyes, the brother being
doubtful about the assertion of the unclean
spirit, and rather thinking that he had desired
to entice him by an ancient customary deceit,
and to brand an innocent brother with the
crime of incest, being mindful of those words
of the gospel; viz., that "he abode not in the
truth because there is no truth in him.
\\'hen he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his
own, for he is a liar, and its father,"- he
made his way to Pelusium, where he knew that
the man lived, whom the evil spirit declared
to be destroyed: for the brother was very well
known to him, and when he had asked him,
he found that on the same night on which
that foul demon had announced his downfall
to his company and prince, he had left his
former monastery, and sought the town, and
had gone astray by a wretched fall with the
girl mentioned.

CHAPTER XVII.

Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man.

For Holy Scripture bears witness that
two angels, a good and a bad one, cling to
each one of us. And of the good ones the
Saviour says : " Do not despise one of these
little ones; for I say unto you that their
angels in heaven do always behold the face of
thy Father which is in heaven : " ^ and this
also: "the angel of the Lord shall encamp
round about them that fear Him, and deliver
them."* Moreover this also which is said in

- S. John viii. 44. ^ S. Matt, xviii. 10. * Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 8.

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the Acts of the Apostles, of Peter, that " it is
his angel." ^ But of both sorts the book of
the Shepherd teaches us very fully.- But if
we consider about him who attacked the
blessed Job we shall clearly learn that it was
he who always plotted against him but never
could entice him to sin, and that therefore he
asked for power from the Lord, as he was
worsted not by his (Job's) virtue but by the
Lord's protection which ever shielded him.
Of Judas also it is said: "And let the devil
stand at his right hand. " ^

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the degrees of wickedness wliich exist in hostile spirits, as
shown in the case of two philosophers.

But of the difference that there is between
demons we have learnt a great deal by means
of those two philosophers who formerly by
acts of magic had oftentimes great experience
both of their laziness and of their courage and
savage wickedness. For these looking down
on the blessed Antony as a boor and rustic,
and wanting, if they could not injure him
any further, at least to drive him from his
cell by illusions of magic and the devices of
demons, despatched against him most foul
spirits, for they were impelled to this attack
upon him by the sting of jealousy because
enormous crowds came daily to him as the
servant of God. And when these most savage
demons did not even venture to approach
him as he was now signing his breast and
forehead with the sign of the cross, and, now
devoting himself to prayer and supplication,
they returned without any result to those who
had directed them ; and these again sent against
him others more desperate in wickedness, and
when these too had spent their strength in
vain, and returned without having accom-
plished anything, and others still more power-
ful were nevertheless told off against the
victorious soldier of Christ, and could prevail
nothing against him, all these great plots of
theirs devised with all the arts of magic were
only useful in proving the great value that
there is in the profession of Christians, so that
those fierce and powerful shadows, which they
thought would veil the sun and moon if they

' Acts xii. 15.

- The reference is to the Pnstor or Sheplierd of Hermas, a work
of the second century. The passage to which Cassian alludes is
found in Book 1 1 . Commandm. vi. ; where it is said that " there are
two anjjels with a man, one of righteousness and the other of iniquity,"
and suggestions are given how to recognize each of them and to dis-
tinguish the suggestions of the one from tliose of the other. The
passage is also alluded to by Origen, De Principiis, Book III. c. ii.
and Horn. xxxv. in (Lucam); and Cassian r(;fers to it again in
Conf.XIII.c. xii.

3 Ps. cviii. (cix.) 6.

were directed towards them, could not only
not injure him, but not even draw him forth
from his monastery for a single instant.

CHAPTER XIX.

Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless
they have first secured possession of their minds.

And when in their astonishment at this they
came straight to Abbot Antony and disclosed
the extent of their attacks and the reason of
them and their plots, they dissembled their
jealousy and asked that they might forthwith
be made Christians. But when he had asked
of them the day when the assault was made,
he declared that at that time he had been
afflicted with the most bitter pangs of thought.
And by this experience the blessed Antony
proved and established the opinion which we
expressed yesterday in our Conference, that
demons cannot possibly find an entrance into
the mind or body of anyone, nor have they the
power of overwhelming the soul of anyone,
unless they have first deprived it of all holy
thoughts, and made it empty and free from
spiritual meditation. But you must know
that unclean spirits are obedient to men in
two ways. For either they are by divine
grace and power subject to the holiness of
the faithful, or they are captivated by the
sacrifices of sinners, and certain charms, and
are flattered by them as their worshippers.
And the Pharisees too were led astray by this
notion and fancied that by this device even
the Lord the Saviour gave commands to devils,
and said "By Beelzebub the prince of the
devils He casteth out devils," in accordance
with that plan by which they knew that their
own magicians and enchanters — by invoking
his name and offering sacrifices, with which
they know he is pleased and delighted — have
as his servants power even over the devils
who are subject to him.

CHAPTER XX.

A question about t!ie fallen angels who are said in Genesis to
have had intercourse with the daughters of men.

Germanus: Since a passage of Genesis
was a little while ago by the providence of
God brought forward in our midst, and happily
reminded us that we can now conveniently ask
about a point which we have always longed to
learn, we want to know what view we ought
to take about those fallen angels who are said
to have had intercourse with the daughters of
men, and whether such a thing can literally

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183

take place with a spiritual nature. And also
with regard to this passage of the gospel
which you quoted of the devil a little while
back, '"forhe is a liar and his father,"^ we
should like in the same way to hear who is to
be understood by "his father."

CHAPTER XXI.

■ The answer to the question raised.

Serenus: You have propounded two not
unimportant questions, to which I will reply,
to the best of my ability, in the order in which
you have raised them. We cannot possibly
believe that spiritual existences can have
carnal intercourse with women. But if this
could ever have literally happened how is it
that it does not now also sometimes take place,
and that we do not see some in the same way
born of women by the agency of demons with-
out intercourse with men? especially when
it is clear that they delight in the pollution of
lust, which they would certainly prefer to bring
about through their own agency rather than
through that of men, if they could possibly
manage it, as Ecclesiastes declares: "What is
it that hath been? The same that is. And
what is it that hath been done? The same
that is done. And there is nothing new that
can be said under the sun, so that a man can
say : Behold this is new ; for it hath already
been in the ages which were before us."^
But the question raised may be resolved in
this way. After the death of righteous
Abel, in order that the whole human race
might not spring from a wicked fratricide,
Seth was born in the place of his brother who
was slain, to take the place of his brother not
only as regards posterity, but also as -regards
justice and goodness. And his offspring, fol-
lowing the example of their father's goodness,
always remained separate from intercourse
with and the society of their kindred de-
scended from the wicked Cain, as the differ-
ence of the genealogy very clearly tells us,
where it says: "Adam begat Seth, Seth begat
Enos, Enos begat Cainan, but Cainan begat
Mahalaleel, but Mahalaleel begat Jared, Jared
begat Enoch, Enoch begat Methuselah, Me-
thuselah begat Lamech,Lamech begat Noah." ^
And the genealogy of Cain is given separately
as follows : " Cain begat Enoch, Enoch begat

1 S. John viii. 44. We find from Augustine (Tract, xxiv. in
Johan.) that the Manichees interpreted this text as implying tiiat the
devil had a father, translating it " For he is a liar, and so is his
father." Augustine himself explains it as Abbot Serenus does below
in c. xxy.; viz., that the devil is not only a liar himself but the parent
of lies.

2 Eccl. i. 9, 10. 3 Gen. v. 4-30.

Cainan, Cainan begat Mahalaleel, Mahalaleel
begat Methuselah, Methuselah begat Lamech,
Lamech begat Jabal and Jubal." * And so the
line which sprang from the seed of righteous
Seth always mixed with its own kith and kin,
and continued for a long while in the holiness
of its fathers and ancestors, untouched by the
blasphemies and the wickedness of an evil
offspring, which had implanted in it a seed of
sin as it were transmitted by its ancestors.
As long then as there continued that separation
of the lines between them, the seed of Seth, as
it sprang from an excellent root, was by reason
of its sanctity termed "angels of God," or as
some copies have it " sons of God ;" ^ and on the
contrary the others by reason of their own and
their fathers' wickedness and their earthly
deeds were termed '' children of men." Though
then there was up to this time that holy and
salutary separation between them, yet after
this the sons of Seth who were the sons of
God saw the daughters of those who were
born of the line of Cain, and inflamed with
the desire for their beauty took to themselves
from them wives who taught their husbands
the wickedness of their fathers, and at once
led them astray from their innale holiness and
the single-mindedness of their forefathers.
To whom this saying applies with sufficient
accuracy : " I have said : Ye are Gods, and ye
are all the children of the Most High. But
ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the
princes; " ^ who fell away from that true study
of natural philosophy, handed down to them by
their ancestors, which the first man who forth-
with traced out the study of all nature, could
clearly attain to, and transmit to his descen-
dants on sure grounds, inasmuch as he had
seen the infancy of this world, while still as
it were tender and throbbing and unorganized;
and as there was in him not only such fulness
of wisdom, but also the grace of prophecy
given by the Divine inspiration, so that while
he was still an untaught inhabitant of this
world he gave names to all living creatures,
and not only knew about the fury and poison
of all kinds of beasts and serpents, but also dis-
tinguished between the virtues of plants and
trees and the natures of stones, and the changes
of seasons of which he had as yet no expe-
rience, so that he could well say: "The Lord

* Gen. iv. 17-21.

5 In Gen. vi.2 the IVISS. of the LXX. fluctuate between 0776X01
rov 9eov and viol toO Oeov, The interpretation of the passage
which Cassian here rejects is adopted by Philo and Josephus, t!ie
book of Enoch, and several of the early fathers, including Justin
Martyr, TertuUian, C'lement of Alexandria, Lactantius and others.
The explanation, which Cassian here gives, taking the " sons of God "
of the Sethites,and the " daughters of men " of the line of Cain, is ap-
parently first found in Julius Africanus (oi aird toO 'Zr^B SiKaioi),
and is adopted among others by Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Book
XV. xxiii., where the passage is fully discussed.

" Ps. Ixxxi. (Ixxxii.) 6, 7.

384

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

hath given me the true knowledge of the things
that are, to know the disposition of the whole
world, and the virtues of the elements, the
beginning and the ending and the midst of
times, the alterations of their courses and
the changes of their seasons, the revolutions
of the year and the disposition of the stars, the
natures of living creatures and the rage of wild
beasts, the force of winds, and the reasonings
of men, the diversities of plants and the virtues
of roots, and all such things as are hid and
open I have learnt."^ This knowledge then
of all nature the seed of Seth received
through successive generations, handed down
from the fathers, so long as it remained sepa-
rate from the wicked line, and as it had
received it in holiness, so it made use of it to
promote the glory of God and the needs of
everyday life. But when it had been mingled
with the evil generation, it drew aside at the
suggestion of devils to profane and harmful
uses what it had innocently learnt, and auda-
ciously taught by it the curious arts of wizards
and enchantments and magical superstitions,
teaching its posterity to forsake the holy wor-
ship of the Divinity and to honour and worship
either the elements or fire or the demons of
the air. How it was then that this knowledge
of curious arts of which we have spoken, did
not perish in the deluge, but became known
to the ages that followed, should, I think,
be briefly explained, as the occasion of this
discussion suggests, although the answer to
the question raised scarcely requires it. And
so, as ancient traditions tell us. Ham the son of
Noah, who had been taught these superstitions
and wicked and profane arts, as he knew that
he could not possibly bring any handbook on
these subjects into the ark, into which he was
to enter with his good father and holy brothers,
inscribed these nefarious arts and profane
devices on plates of various metals which
could not be destroyed by the flood of waters,
and on hard rocks, and when the flood was
over he hunted for them with the same inqui-
sitiveness with which he had concealed them,
and so transmitted to his descendants a seed-
bed of profanity and perpetual sin. In this
way then that common notion, according to
which men believe that angels delivered to
men enchantments and diverse arts, is in truth
fulfilled. From these sons of Seth then and
daughters of Cain, as we have said, there were
Dorn still worse children who became mighty
hunters, violent and most fierce men who
were termed giants by reason of the size of
their bodies and their cruelty and wickedness.
For these first began to harass their neighbours

1 w

IS. vu. 17-21.

and to practise pillaging among men, getting
their living rather by rapine than by being
contented with the sweat and labour of toil,
and their wickedness increased to such a pitch
that the world could only be purified by the
flood and deluge. So then when the sons of
Seth at the instigation of their lust had trans-
gressed that command which had been for a
long while kept by a natural instinct from the
beginning of the world, it was needful that it
should afterwards be restored bv the letter of
the law ; " Thou shalt not give thy daughter to
his son to wife, nor shalt thou take a wife of
his daughters to thy son; for they shall seduce
your hearts to depart from your God, and to
follow their gods and serve them." -

CHAPTER XXn.

An objection, as to how an unlawful intermingling with the
daughters of Cain could be charged against the line of Seth
before the prohibition of the law.

Germanus : If that command had been
given to them, then the sin of breaking it
might fairly have been brought against them
for their audacity in so marrying. But since
the observance of that separation had not yet
been established by any rule, how could that
intermingling of races be counted wrong in
them, as it had not been forbidden by any
command? For a law does not ordinarily
forbid crimes that are past, but those that are
future.

CHAPTER XXIII.

The answer, that by the law of nature men were from the
beginning liable to judgment and punishment.

Serenus: God at man's creation implanted
in him naturally complete knowledge of the
law, and if this had been kept by man, as
at the beginning, according to the Lord's
purposes, there would not have been any need
for another law to be given, which He after-
wards proclaimed in writing: for it were
superfluous for an external remedy to be
offered, where an internal one was still im-
planted and vigorous. But since this had
been, as we have said, utterly corrupted by
freedom and the opportunity of sinning, the
severe restrictions of the law of Moses were
added as the executor and vindicator of this
(earlier law) and to use the expressions of
Scripture, as its helper, that through fear of
immediate punishment men might be kept
from altogether losing the good of natural

* Deut. viii. 3; Exod. xxxiv. lO: cf. i Kings xi. 2.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.

385

knowledge, according to the word of the
prophet who says " He gave the law to help
them : '" ^ and it is also described by the
Apostle as having been given as a school-
master - to little children, as it instructs and*
guards them to prevent them from departing
through sheer forgetfulness from the teaching
in which they had been instructed by the light
of nature : for that the complete knowledge of
the law was implanted in man at his first
creation, is clearly proved from this; viz., that
we know that before the law, aye, and even
before the flood, all holy men observed the
commands of the law without having the letter
to read. For how could Abel, without the
command of the law, have known that he
ought to offer to God a sacrifice of the first-
lings of his flock and of the fat thereof,^ un-
less he had been taught by the law which was
naturally implanted in him ? How could Noah
have distinguished what animals were clean
and what were unclean,* when the command-
ment of the law had not yet made a distinc-
tion, unless he had been taught by a natural
knowledge ? Whence did Enoch learn how to
"walk with God,"^ having never acquired
any light of the law from another? Where
had Shem and Japheth read "Thou shalt not
uncover the nakedness of thy father," so that
they went backwards and covered the shame of
their father? ^ How was Abraham taught to
abstain from the spoils of the enemy which were
offered to him, that he might not receive any
recompense for his toil, or to pay to the priest
Melchizedec the tithes which are ordered by
the law of J\Ioses ? ' How was it too that
the same. Abraham and Lot also humbly
offered to passers by and strangers offices of
kindness and the washing of their feet, while
yet the Evangelic command had not shone
forth ? 8 Whence did Job obtain such earnest-
ness of faith, such purity of chastity, such
knowledge of humility, gentleness, pity and
kindness, as we now see shown not even by
those who know the gospels by heart? Which
of the saints do we read of as not having
observed some commandment of the law before
the giving of the law? Which of them failed
to keep this : " Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy
God is one Lord? "^ Which of them did not
fulfil this : " Thou shalt not make to thyself any
graven image, nor the likeness of anything
which is in heaven or in the earth or under
the earth?" Which of them did not observe
this: " Honour thy father and thy mother," or
what follows in the Decalogue: "Thou shalt

1 Is. viii. 2o(LXX.).

2 Cf. Gal. iii. 24.

3 Gen. iv. 4.
* Gen. vii. 2.
^ Gen. V. 22.

8 Gen. ix. 23 ; Lev. xviii. 7.
' Gen. xiv. 20, 22.

8 Gen. xviii., xix. ; cf. S. John xiii. 34.

9 Deut. vi. 4.

do no murder; Thou shalt not commit adul-
tery; Thou shalt not steal; Thou shalt not
bear false witness; Thou shalt not covet thy
neighbour's wife," ^° and many other things be-
sides, in which they anticipated the commands
not only of the law but even of the gospel ?

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of the fact that they were justly punished, who sinned before
the flood.

And so then we see that from the beginning
God created everything perfect, nor would
there have been need for anything to have
been added to His original arrangement — as
if it were shortsighted and imperfect — if
everything had continued in that state and
condition in which it had been created by
Him. And therefore in the case of those
who sinned before the law and even before the
flood we see that God visited them with a
righteous judgment, because they deserved to
be punished without any excuse, for having
transgressed the law of nature ; nor should we
fall into the blasphemous slanders of those
who are ignorant of this reason, and so depre-
ciate the God of the Old Testament, and run
down our faith, and say with a sneer: Why
then did it please your God to will to promul-
gate the law after so many thousand years,
while He suffered such long ages to pass with-
out any law? But if He afterwards discovered
something better, then it appears that at the
beginning of the world His wisdom was infe-
rior and poorer, and that afterwards as if taught
by experience He began to provide for some-
thing better, and to amend and improve His
original arrangements. A thing which cer-
tainly cannot happen to the infinite foreknow-
ledge of God, nor can these assertions be made
about Him by the mad folly of heretics with-
out grievous blasphemy, as Ecclesiastes says :
" I have learnt that all the words which God
hath made from the beginning shall continue
forever: nothing can be added to them, and
nothing can be taken away from them," " and
therefore " the law is not made for the righteous,
but for the unrighteous, and insubordinate, for
the ungodly and sinners, for the wicked and
profane."-'- For as they had the sound and
complete system of natural laws implanted in
them they had no need of this external law in
addition, and one committed to writing, and
what was given as an aid to that natural law.
From which we infer by the clearest of reason-
ings that that law committed to writing need not
have been given at the beginning (for it was

10 Exod. XX. 4-17. " Eccl. iii. 14. (LXX.). ^ i Tim. i-g.

386

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

unnecessary for this to be done while the
natural law still remained, and was not utterly
violated) nor could evangelical perfection
have been granted before the law had been
kept. For they could not have listened to this
saying : '' If a man strikes thee on the right
cheek, turn to him the other also," ^ who were
not content to avenge wrongs done to them
with the even justice of the lex talionis, but
repaid a very slight touch with deadly kicks
and wounds with weapons, and for a single
truth sought to take the life of those who had
struck them. Nor could it be said to them,
"love your enemies,"^ among whom it was
considered a great thing and most important
if they loved their friends, but avoided their
enemies and dissented from them only in
hatred without being eager to oppress and
kill them.

CHAPTER XXV.

How this that is said of the devil in the gospel is to be under-
stood; viz., that "he is a liar, and his father."

But as for this which disturbed you about
the devil, that "he is a liar and his father,"^
as if it seemed that he and his father' were
pronounced by the Lord to be liars, it is
sufficiently ridiculous to imagine this even
cursorily. For as we said a little while ago
spirit does not beget spirit just as soul cannot
procreate soul, though we do not doubt that
the compacting of flesh is formed from man's
seed, as the Apostle clearly distinguishes in
the case of both substances ; viz., flesh and
spirit, what should be ascribed to whom as its
author, and says : " Moreover we have had
fathers of our flesh for instructors, and we reve-
renced them : shall we not much more be in
subjection to the Father of spirits and live ? " *
What could show more clearly than this dis-
tinction, that he laid down that men were the
fathers of our flesh, but always taught that
God alone was the Father of souls. Although
even in the actual compacting of this body a
ministerial office alone must be attributed to
men, but the chief part of its formation to
God the Creator of all, as David says: "Thy
hands have made me and fashioned me : " ^
And the blessed Job: " Hast thou not milked
me as milk, and curdled me as cheese? Thou
hast put me together with bones and sinews ; " ®
and the Lord to Jeremiah : " Before I formed
thee in the womb, I knew thee." "^ But Eccle-
siastes very clearly and accurately gathers
the nature of either substance, and its begin-

1 S. Matt. V. 39.

2 lb. ver. 44.

^ S. John viii. 44.

"> Heb. xii. 9.

^ Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 73.

•^ Job X. 10, II.
' Jer. i. 5.

ning, by an examination of the rise and com-
mencement, from which each originated, and
by a consideration of the end to which each is
tending, and decides also of the division of
this body and soul, and discourses as follows:
" Before the dust returns to the earth as it was,
and the spirit returns unto God who gave it." ^
But what could be said with greater plainness
than that he declares that the matter of the
flesh which he styled dust, because it springs
from the seed of man, and seems to be sown
by his ministration, must, as it was taken
from the earth, again return to the earth,
while he points out that the spirit which
is not begotten by intercourse between the
sexes, but belongs to God alone in a special
way, returns to its creator? And this also
is clearly implied in that breathing by God,
through which Adam in the first instance
received his life. And so from these passages
we clearly infer that no one can be called the
Father of spirits but God alone, who makes
them out of nothing whenever He pleases,
while men can only be termed the fathers
of our flesh. So then the devil also in as
much as he was created a spirit or an angel
and good, had no one as his Father but God
his Maker. But when he had become pufi^ed
up by pride and had said in his heart : " I will
ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will
be like the Most High," ^ he became a liar, and
' ' abode not in the truth ; " ^° but brought forth
a lie from his own storehouse of wickedness
and so became not only a liar, but also the
father of the actual lie, bv which when he
promised Divinity to man and said "Ye shall
be as gods," " he abode not in the truth, but
from the beginning became a murderer, both
by bringing Adam into a state of mortality, and
by slaying Abel by the hand of his brother
at his suggestion. But already the approach
of dawn is bringing to a close our discus-
sion, which has occupied nearly two whole
nights, and our brief and simple words have
drawn our bark of this Conference from the
deep sea of questions to a safe harbour of
silence, in which deep indeed, as the breath
of the Divine Spirit drives us further in, so is
there ever opened out a wider and boundless
space reaching beyond the sight of our eye,
and, as Solomon says, " It will become much
further from us than it was, and a great depth ;
who shall find it out?"^^ Wherefore let us
pray the Lord that both His fear and His
love, which cannot fail, may continue stead-
fast in us, and make us wise in all things,
and ever shield us unharmed, from the darts

Eccl. xii. 7.
Is. xiv. 14.

'" .S. John viii 44.
1' Gen. iii. 5.

Eccl. vii. 25.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

387

of the devil. For with these guards it is im-
possible for anyone to fall into the snares of
death. But there is this difference between
the perfect and imperfect, that in the case of
the former love is steadfast, and so to speak
riper and lasts more abidingly and so makes
them persevere in holiness more steadfastly
and more easily, while in the case of the latter

its position is weaker and it more easily grows
cold, and so quickly and more frequently
allows them to be entangled in the snares of
And when we heard this, the words of

sin.

this Conference so fired us that when we went
away from the old man's cell we longed with
a keener ardour of soul than when we first
came, for the fulfilment of his teaching.

IX.

THE FIRST CONFEREiNCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

ON PR A YER.

CHAPTER I.

Introduction to the Conference.

What was promised in the second book of
the Institutes^ on continual and unceasing
perseverance in prayer, shall be by the Lord's
help fulfilled by the Conferences of this Elder,
whom we will now bring forward; viz., Abbot
Isaac :^ and when these have been propounded
I think that I shall have satisfied the com-
mands of Pope Castor of blessed memory, and
your wishes, O blessed Pope Leontius and
holy brother Helladius, and the length of the
book in its earlier part may be excused,
though, in spite of our endeavour not only to
compress what had to be told into a brief
discourse, but also to pass over very many
points in silence, it has been extended to a
greater length than we intended. For having
commenced with a full discourse on various
regulations which we have thought it well to
curtail for the sake of brevity, at the close
the blessed Isaac spoke these words.

CHAPTER II.

The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer.

The aim of every monk and the perfection
of his heart tends to continual and unbroken
perseverance in prayer, and, as far as it is
allowed to human frailty, strives to acquire
an immovable tranquillity of mind and a per-

1 See the Institutes Book II. c. ix.

- Isaac was, as we gather from c. xxxi., a disciple of St. Antony,
and is mentioned by Palladius Dial, de vita Chrysost. There are
also a few stories of him in the Apophegmata Patrum (Migne,
Vol. Ixv. p. 223); and see the Dictionary of Christian Biography,
Vol. iii. p. 294.

petual purity, for the sake of which we seek
unweariedly and constantly to practise all
bodily labours as well as contrition of spirit.
And there is between these two a sort of
reciprocal and inseparable union. For just
as the crown of the building of all virtues
is the perfection of prayer, so unless every-
thing has been united and compacted by this
as its crown, it cannot possibly continue
strong and stable. For lasting and continual
calmness in prayer, of which we are speaking,
cannot be secured or consummated without
them, so neither can those virtues which lay
its foundations be fully gained without per-
sistence in it. And so we shall not be able
either to treat properly of the effect of prayer,
or in a rapid discourse to penetrate to its
main end, which is acquired by labouring at
all virtues, unless first all those things which
for its sake must be either rejected or secured,
are singly enumerated and discussed, and,
as the Parable in the gospel teaches,^ what-
ever concerns the building of that spiritual
and most lofty tower, is reckoned up and care-
fully considered beforehand. But yet these
things v/hen prepared will be of no use nor
allow the lofty height of perfection to be
properly placed upon them unless a clearance
of all faults be first undertaken, and the
decayed and dead rubbish of the passions
be dug up, and the strong foundations of
simplicity and humility be laid on the solid
and (so to speak) living soil of our breast, or
rather on that rock of the gospel,* and by being
built in this way this tower of spiritual virtues
will rise, and be able to stand unmoved, and
be raised to the utmost heights of heaven in
full assurance of its stability. For if it rests

8 Cf. S. Luke xiv. 28.

* Cf. S. Luke vi. 48.

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

on such foundations, then though heavy storms
of passions break over it, though mighty tor-
rents of persecutions beat against it like a
battering ram, though a furious tempest of
spiritual foes dash against it and attack it,
yet not only will no ruin overtake it, but the
onslaught will not injure it even in the slight-
est degree.

CHAPTER III.

How pure and sincere prayer can be gained.

And therefore in order that prayer may be
offered up with that earnestness and purity
with which it ought to be, we must by all
means observe these rules. First all anxiety
about carnal things must be entirely got rid
of; next we must leave no room for not merely
the care but even the recollection of any busi-
ness affairs, and in like manner also must lay
aside all backbitings, vain and incessant
chattering, and buffoonery; anger above all,
and disturbing moroseness must be entirely
destroyed, and the deadly taint of carnal lust
and covetousness be torn up by the roots.
And so when these and such like faults
which are also visible to the eyes of men, are
entirely removed and cut off, and when such
a purification and cleansing, as we spoke of,
has first taken place, which is brought about
by pure simplicity and innocence, then first
there must be laid the secure foundations of
a deep humility, which may be able to support
a tower that shall reach the sky ; and next
the spiritual structure of the virtues must be
built up upon them, and the soul kept free
from all conversation and from roving thoughts
that thus it may by little and little begin to
rise to the contemplation of God and to spi-
ritual insicrht. For whatever our mind has
been thinking of before the hour of prayer,
is sure to occur to us while we are' praying
through the activity of the memory. Where-
fore what we want to find ourselves like while
we are praying, that we ought to prepare our-
selves to be before the time for prayer. For the
mind in prayer is formed by its previous con-
dition, and when we are applying ourselves
to prayer the images of the same actions and
words and thoughts will dance before our
eyes, and make us either angry, as in our pre-
vious condition, or gloomy, or recall our former
lust and business, or make us shake with fool-
ish laughter (which I am ashamed to speak of)
at some silly joke, or smile at some action, or
fly back to our previous conversation. And
therefore if we do not want anything to haunt
us while we are praying, we should be careful
before our pra) er, to exclude it from the

j shrine of our heart, that we may thus fulfill
the Apostle's injunction: '' Pray without ceas-
ing;" and: "In every place lifting up holy
hands without wrath or disputing." -^ For other-
wise we shall not be able to carry out that
charge unless our mind, purified from all stains
of sin, and given over to virtue as to its natural
good, feed on the continual contemplation of
Almighty God.

CHAPTER IV.

Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a

wing or feather.

For the nature of the soul is not inaptly
compared to a very fine feather or very light
wing, which, if it has not been damaged or
affected by being spoilt by any moisture fall-
ing on it from without, is borne aloft almost
naturally to the heights of heaven by the
lightness of its nature, and the aid of the
slightest breath: but if it is weighted by any
moisture falling upon it and penetrating into
it, it will not only not be carried away by its
natural lightness into any aerial flights but
will actually be borne down to the depths of
earth by the weight of the moisture it has
received. So also our soul, if it is not
weighted with faults that touch it, and the
cares of this world, or damaged by the mois-
ture of injurious lusts, will be raised as it
were by the natural blessing of its own purity
and borne aloft to the heights by the light
breath of spiritual meditation; and leaving
things low and earthly will be transported to
those that are heavenly and invisible. Where-
fore we are well warned by the Lord's com-
mand: "Take heed that your hearts be not
weighed down by surfeiting and drunkenness
and the cares of this world." ^ And therefore
if we want our prayers to reach not only the
sky, but what is beyond the sky, let us be
careful to reduce our soul, purged from all
earthly faults and purified from every stain,
to its natural lightness, that so our prayer
may rise to God unchecked by the weight of
any sin.

CHAPTER V.

Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down.

But we should notice the ways in which
the Lord points out that the soul is weighed
down: for He did not mention adultery, or
fornication, or murder, or blasphemy, or rapine,
which everybody knows to be deadly and

1 I Thess. V. 17 ; i Tim. ii. 8.

2 S. Luke xxi. 34.

■THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

389

damnable, but surfeiting and drunkenness,
and tlie cares or anxieties of this world :
which men of this world are so far from avoid-
ing or considering damnable that actually
some who (I am ashamed to say) call them-
selves monks entangle themselves in these
very occupations as if they were harmless or
useful. And though these three things, when
literally given way to weigh down the soul,
and separate it from God, and bear it down to
things earthly, yet it is very easy to avoid
them, especially for us who are separated by
so great a distance from all converse with
this world, and who do not on any occasion
have anything to do with those visible cares
and drunkenness and surfeiting. But there is
another surfeiting which is no less dangerous,
and a spiritual drunkenness which it is harder
to avoid, and a care and anxiety of this world,
which often ensnares us even after the perfect
renunciation of all our goods, and abstinence
from wine and all feastings and even when we
are living in solitude — and of such the prophet
says : " Awake, ye that are drunk but not with
wine;"^ and another: ''Be astonished and
wonder and stagger: be drunk and not with
wine: be moved, but not with drunkenness." '
And of this drunkenness the wine must conse-
quently be what the prophet calls "the fury of
dragons " : and from what root the wine comes
you may hear : " From the vineyard of Sodom,"
he says, " is their vine, and their branches from
Gomorrha." Would you also know about the
fruit of that vine and the seed of that branch ?
"Their grape is a grape of gall, theirs is a
cluster of bitterness " ^ for unless we are alto-
gether cleansed from all faults and abstain-
ing from the surfeit of all passions, our heart
will without drunkenness from wine and excess
of any feasting be weighed down by a drunken-
ness and surfeiting that is still more dangerous.
For that worldly cares can sometimes fall on
us who mix with no actions of this world, is
clearly shown according to the rule of the
Elders, who have laid down that anything
which goes beyond the necessities of daily j
food, and the unavoidable needs of the flesh,
belongs to worldly cares and anxieties, as for
example if, when a job bringing in a penny
would satisfy the needs of our body, we try to i
extend it by a longer toil and work in order '
to get twopence or threepence ; and when a ,
covering of two tunics would be enough for I
our use both by night and day, we manage to.
become the owners of three or four, or when
a hut containing one or two cells would be
sufficient, in the pride of worldly ambition
and greatness we build four or five cells, and

1 Joel i. 5.

2 Is. xxix. 9.

2 Deut. xxxii. 32, 33.

these splendidly decorated, and larger than
our needs required, thus showing the passion
of worldly lusts whenever we can.

CHAPTER VI.

Of the vision which a certain Elder saw concerning the rest-
less work of a brother.

And that this is not done without the
prompting of devils we are taught by the surest
proofs, for when one very highly esteemed
Elder was passing by the cell of a certain
brother who was suffering from this mental
disease of which we have spoken, as he was
restlessly toiling in his daily occupations in
building and repairing what was unnecessary,
he watched him from a distance breaking a
very hard stone with a heavy hammer, and
saw a certain Ethiopian standing over him and
together with him striking the blows of the
hammer with joined and clasped hands, and
urging him on with fiery incitements to dili-
gence in the work: and so he stood still for a
long while in astonishment at the force of the
fierce demon and the deceitfulness of such
an illusion. For when the brother was worn
out and tired and wanted to rest and put an
end to his toil, he was stimulated by the
spirit's prompting and urged on to resume his
hammer again and not to cease from devoting
himself to the work which he had begun, so
that being unweariedly supported by his in-
citements he did not feel the harm that so
great labour was doing him. At last then the
old man, disgusted at such a horrid mystifica-
tion by a demon, turned aside to the brother's
cell and saluted him, and asked "what work
is it, brother, that you are doing?" and he
replied: "We are working at this awfully
hard stone, and we can hardly break it at all."
Whereupon the Elder replied : " You were right
in saying 'zee CRn,' for you were not alone,
when you were striking it, but there was
another with you whom you did not see,
who was standing over you not so much to
help you as urge you on with all his force."
And thus the fact that the disease of worldly
vanity has not got hold of our hearts, will be
proved by no mere abstinence from those
affairs which even if we want to engage in, we
cannot carry out, nor by the despising of those
matters which if we pursued them would make
us remarkable in the front rank among spi-
ritual persons as well as among worldly men,
but only when we reject with inflexible firm-
ness of mind whatever ministers to our power
and seems to be veiled in a show of right.
And in reality these things which seem trivial

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and of no consequence, and which we see to i
be permitted indifferently by those who belong
to our calling, none the less by their character
affect the soul than those more important :
things, which according to their condition usu-
ally intoxicate the senses of worldly people
and which do not allow ^ a monk to lay aside
earthly impurities and aspire to God, on whom
his attention should ever be fixed; for in his
case even a slight separation from that highest
good must be regarded as present death and
most dantrerous destruction. And when the
soul has been established in such a peaceful
condition, and has been freed from the meshes
of all carnal desires, and the purpose of the
heart has been steadily fixed on that which is
the only highest good, he will then fulfil this
Apostolic precept: "Pray without ceasing;"
and: "in every place lifting up holy hands
without wrath and disputing: " '^ for when by
this purity (if we can say so) the thoughts of
the soul are engrossed, and are re-fashioned
out of their earthly condition to bear a spirit-
ual and angelic likeness, whatever it receives,
whatever it takes in hand, whatever it does, the
prayer will be perfectly pure and sincere.

CHAPTER VII.

A question how it is that it is harder worl; to preserve than to
originate good thoughts.

Germanus : If only we could keep as a
lasting possession those spiritual thoughts in
the same way and with the same ease with
which we generally conceive their germs! for
when they have been conceived in our hearts
either through the recollection of the Scrip-
tures or by the memory of some spiritual
actions, or by gazing upon heavenly mysteries,
they vanish all too soon and disappear by a
sort of unnoticed flight. And when our soul
has discovered some other occasions for spi-
ritual emotions, different ones again crowd in
upon us, and those which we had grasped are
scattered, and lightly fly away so that the
mind retaining no persistency, and keeping of
its own power no firm hand over holy thoughts,
must be thought, even when it does seem to
retain them for a while, to have conceived
them at random and not of set purpose. For
how can we think that their rise should be
ascribed to our own will, if they do not last
and remain with us? But that we may not
owing to the consideration of this question

' Sinentcs, thoui;b the reading of ahiiost all MSS. must b^ an
error either of the author or of a copyist for sinentia.
2 I Thess. V. 17; I Tim. ii. S.

wander any further from the plan of the dis-
course we had commenced, or delay any longer
the explanation promised of the nature of
prayer, we will keep this for its own time,
and ask to be informed at once of the cha-
racter of prayer, especially as the blessed
Apostle exhorts us at no time to cease from
it, saying " Pray without ceasing." And so we
want to be taught first of its character, i. e. , how
prayer ought ahuays to be offered up, and
then how we can secure this, whatever it is,
and practise it without ceasing. For that it
cannot be done by any light purpose of heart
both daily experience and the explanation of
your holiness show us, as you have laid it
down that the aim of a monk, and the height
of all perfection consist in the consummation
of prayei.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the different characters of prayer.

Isaac : I imagine that all kinds of prayers
cannot be grasped without great purity of heart
and soul and the illumination of the Holy
Spirit. For there are as many of them as
there can be conditions and characters pro-
duced in one soul or rather in all souls. And
so although we know that owing to our dul-
ness of heart we cannot see all kinds of
prayers, yet we will try to relate them in some
order, as far as our slender experience enables
us to succeed. For according to the degree
of the purity to which each soul attains, and
the character of the state in which it is sunk
owing to what happens to it, or is by its own
efforts renewing itself, its very prayers will
each moment be altered : and therefore it is
quite clear that no one can always offer up
uniform prayers. For every one prays in one
way when he is brisk, in another when he is
oppressed with a weight of sadness or despair,
in another when he is invigorated by spiritual
achievements, in another when cast down by the
burden of attacks, in another when he is ask-
ing pardon for his sins, in another when he
asks to obtain grace or some virtue or else
prays for the destruction of some sin, in another
when he is pricked to the heart by the thought
of hell and the fear of future judgment, in
another when he is aglow with the hope and
desire of good things to come, in another
when he is taken up with affairs and dangers,
in another when he is in peace and security, in
another when he is enlightened by the revela-
tion of heavenly mysteries, and in another
when he is depressed by a sense of barrenness
in virtues and dryness in feeling.

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391

CHAPTER IX.

Of the fourfold nature of prayer.

And therefore, when we have laid this down
with reji^ard to the character of prayer, although
not so fully as the importance of the subject
requires, but as fully as the exigencies of
time permit, and at any rate as our slender
abilities admit, and our dulness of heart en-
ables us, — a still greater difficulty now awaits
us; viz., to expound one by one the different
kinds of prayer, which the Apostle divides in
a fourfold manner, when he says as follows:
"T exhort therefore first of all that suppli-
cations, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings
be made."^ And we cannot possibly doubt
that this division was not idly made by the
Apostle. And to begin with we must investi-
gate what is meant by supplication, by prayer,
by intercession, and by thanksgiving. Next
we must inquire whether these four kinds are
to be taken in hand by him who prays all at
once, i.e., are they all to be joined together in
every prayer, — • or whether they are to be offered
up in turns and one by one, as, for instance,
ought at one time supplications, at another
prayers, at another intercessions, and at
another thanksgivings to be offered, or should
one man present to God supplications, another
prayers, another intercessions, another thanks-
givings, in accordance with that measure of
age, to which each soul is advancing by
earnestness of purpose ?

CHAPTER X.

Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the
character of prayer.

And so to begin with we must consider the
actual force of the names and words, and dis-
cuss what is the difference between prayer
and supplication and intercession; then in
like manner we must investigate whether they
are to be offered separately or all together;
and in the third place must examine whether
the particular order which is thus arranged by
the Apostle's authority has anything further
to teach the hearer, or whether the distinction
simply is to be taken, and it should be con-
sidered that they were arranged by him in-
differently in such a way : a thing which seem.s
to me utterly absurd. For one must not
believe that the Holy Spirit uttered anything
casually or without reason through the Apostle.
And so we will, as the Lord grants us, con-
sider them in the same order in which we
began.

1 I Tim. ii. i.

CHAPTER XI.

Of Supplications.

"I EXHORT therefore first of all that suppli-
cations be made." Supplication is an implor-
ing or petition concerning sins, in which one
who is sorry for his present or past deeds asks
for pardon.

CHAPTER XII.

Of Prayer.

Prayers are those by which we offer or vow
something to God, what the Greeks call f I'^ij,
i.e., a vow. For where we read in Greek iwc
iv;((x^ fiov TfJ xvoUo (xnoduiijb), in Latin we read:
" I will pay my vows unto the Lord; '' ^ where
according to the exact force of the words it
may be thus represented: ''I will pay my
prayers unto the Lord." And this which we
find in Ecclesiastes: "If thou vowest a vow
unto the Lord do not delay to pay it," is writ-
ten in Greek likewise: iuf iviri iv/Jii' tcJ y.v(}l(S,
i.e., "If thou prayest a prayer unto the Lord,
do not delay to pay it," ^ which will be ful-
filled in this way by each one of us. We
pray, when we renounce this world and
promise that being dead to all worldly actions
and the life of this world we will serve the
Lord with full purpose of heart. We pray when
we promise that despising secular honours and
scorning earthly riches we will cleave to the
Lord in all sorrow of heart and humility of
spirit. We pray when we promise that we
will ever maintain the most perfect purity of
body and steadfast patience, or when we vow
that we will utterly root out of our heart the
roots of anger or of sorrow that worketh death.
And if, enervated by sloth and returning to
our former sins we fail to do this we shall be
guilty as regards our prayers and vows, and
these words will apply to us: " It is better not
to vow, than to vow and not to pay," which
can be rendered in accordance with the
Greek: "It is better for thee not to pray than
to pray and not to pay." *

CHAPTER Xin.

Of Intercession.

In the third place stand intercessions,
which we are wont to offer up for others also,
while we are filled with fervour of spirit,
making request either for those dear to us or

' Ps. cxv. 4 (cxvi. 14). 8 Eccl. V. 3. * Ibid. ver. 4.

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for the peace of the whole world, and to use
the Apostle's own phrase, we pray ''for all
men, for kings and all that are in authority." ^

CHAPTER XIV.

Of Thanksgiving.

Then in the fourth place there stand thanks-
givings which the mind in ineffable transports
offers up to God, either when it recalls God's
past benefits or when it contemplates His
present ones, or when it looks forward to those
great ones in the future which God has pre-
pared for them that love Him. And with
this purpose too sometimes we are wont to
pour forth richer prayers, v/hile, as we gaze
with pure eyes on those rewards of the saints
which are laid up in store hereafter, our spirit
is stimulated to offer up unspeakable thanks
to God with boundless joy.

CHAPTER XV.

Whether these four kinds of prayers are necessary for everyone
to offer all at once or separately and in turns.

And of these four kinds, although some-
times occasions arise for richer and fuller
prayers (for from the class of supplications
which arises from sorrow for sin, and from the
kind of prayer which flows from confidence
in our offerings and the performance of our
vows in accordance with a pure conscience,
and from the intercession which proceeds
from fervour of love, and from the thanks-
giving which is born of the consideration of
God's blessings and His greatness and good-
ness, we know that oftentimes there proceed
most fervent and ardent prayers so that it is
clear that all these kinds of prayer of which
we have spoken are found to be useful and
needful for all men, so that in one and the
same man his changing feelings will give
utterance to pure and fervent petitions now
of supplications, now of prayers, now of inter-
cessions) yet the first seems to belong more
especially to beginners, who are still troubled
by the stings and recollection of their sins;
the second to those who have already attained
some loftiness of mind in their spiritual
progress and the quest of virtue; the third to
those who fulfil the completion of their vows
by their works, and are so stimulated to inter-
cede for others also through the consideration
of their weakness, and the earnestness of
their love; the fourth to those who have

already torn from their hearts the guilty thorns
of conscience, and thus being now free from
care can contemplate with a pure mind the
beneficence of God and His compassions,
which He has either granted in the past, or
is giving in the present, or preparing for the
future, and thus are borne onward with fervent
hearts to that ardent prayer which cannot be
embraced or expressed by the mouth of men.
Sometimes however the mind which is advan-
cing to that perfect state of purity and which
is already beginning to be established in it,
will take in all these at one and the same
time, and like some incomprehensible and
all-devouring flame, dart through them all
and offer up to God inexpressible prayers of
the purest force, which the Spirit Itself, in-
tervening with groanings that cannot be
uttered, while we ourselves understand not,
pours forth to God, grasping at that hour and
ineffably pouring forth in its supplications
things so great that they cannot be uttered
with the mouth nor even at any other time be
recollected by the mind. And thence it comes
that in whatever degree any one stands, he is
found sometimes to offer up pure and devout
prayers; as even in that first and lowly station
which has to do with the recollection of future
judgment, he who still remains under the
punishment of terror and the fear of judgment
is so smitten with sorrow for the time being
that he is filled with no less keenness of spirit
from the richness pf his supplications than
he who through the purity of his heart gazes
on and considers the blessings of God and is
overcome with ineffable joy and delight.
For, as the Lord Himself says, he begins to
love the more, who knows that he has been
forgiven the more.'^

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves.

Yet we ought by advancing in life and at-
taining to virtue to aim rather at those kinds
of prayer which are poured forth either from
the contemplation of the good things to come
or from fervour of love, or which at least, to
speak, more humbly and in accordance with
the measure of beginners, arise for the acquire-
ment of some virtue or the extinction of some
fault. For otherwise we shall not possibly
attain to those sublimer kinds of supplication
of which we spoke, unless our mind has been
little by little and by degrees raised through
the regular course of those intercessions.

I Tim. ii, i, :

s Cf. S. Luke vii. 47.

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393

CHAPTER XVII.

How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the
Lord.

These four kinds of supplication the Lord
Himself by His own example vouchsafed to
originate for us, so that in this too He might
fulfil that which was said of Him: "which
Jesus began both to do and to teach." ^ For
He made use of the class of supplication when
He said: "Father, if it be possible, let this
cup pass from me ; " or this which is chanted ,
in His Person in the Psalm: ''My God, My ^
God, look upon M*e, why hast Thou forsaken |
me," ^ and others like it. It is prayer where |
He says: "I have magnified Thee upon the'
earth, I have finished the work which Thou
gavest Me to do," and this: "And for their
sakes I sanctify Myself that they also may be
sanctified in the truth. " ^ It is intercession when
He says: "Father, those whom Thou hast
given me, I will that they also may be with
Me that they may see My glory which Thou
hast given Me ; " or at any rate when He says :
"Father, forgive them for they know not what
they do."* It is thanksgiving when He says:
" I confess to Thee, Father, Lord of heaven
and earth, that Thou hast hid these things
from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed
them unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it
seemed good in Thy sight: " or at least when
He says: - Father, I thank Thee that Thou
hast heard Me. But I knew that Thou hear-
est Me always." ^ But though our Lord made
a distinction between these four kinds of pray-
ers as to be offered separately and one by one
according to the scheme which we know of, yet
that they can all be embraced in a perfect
prayer at one and the same time He showed
by His own example in that prayer which at
the close of S. John's gospel we read that
He offered up with such fulness. From the
words of which (as it is too long to repeat it
all) the careful inquirer can discover by the
order of the passage that this is so. And the
Apostle also in his Epistle to the Philippians
has expressed the same meaning, by putting
these four kinds of prayers in a slightly differ-
ent order, and has shown that they ought
sometimes to be offered together in the fervour
of a single prayer, saying as follows: "But in
everything by prayer and supplication with
thanksgiving let your requests be made known
unto God. "^ And by this he wanted us

especially to understand that in prayer and
supplication thanksgiving ought to be mingled
with our requests.

' Acts i. I.

^ S. Matt. xxvi. 39; Ps. xxi. (xxii.) 2.

2 S. John xvii. 4, 19.

* Ih. 24 ; S. Luke xxiii. 34.

5 S. Matt. xi. 25, 26; S. John xi. 41, 42.

0 Phil. iv. 6.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the Lord's Prayer.

And so there follows after these different
kinds of supplication a still more sublime
and exalted condition which is brought about
by the contemplation of God alone and by
fervent love, by which the mind, transporting
and flinging itself into love for Him, ad-
dresses God most familiarly as its own Father
with a piety of its own. And that we ought
earnestly to seek after this condition the
formula of the Lord's prayer teaches us, say-
ing "Our Father." When then we confess
with our own mouths that the God and Lord
of the universe is our Father, we profess
forthwith that we have been called from our
condition as slaves to the adoption of sons,
adding next "Which art in heaven," that, by
shunning with the utmost horror all lingering
in this present life, which we pass upon this
earth as a pilgrimage, and what separates us
by a great distance from our Father, we may
the rather hasten with all eagerness to that
country where we confess that our Father
dwells, and may not allow anything of this
kind, which would make us unworthy of this
our profession and the dignity of an adoption
of this kind, and so deprive us as a disgrace
to our Father's inheritance, and make us in-
cur the wrath of His justice and severity.
To which state and condition of sonship
when we have advanced, we shall forthwith be
inflamed with the piety which belongs to good
sons, so that we shall bend all our energies
to the advance not of our own profit, but of
our Father's glory, saying to Him: "Hallowed
be Thy name," testifying that our desire and
our joy is His glory, becoming imitators of
Him who said: "He who speakethof himself,
seeketh his own glory. But He who seeks
the glory of Him who sent Him, the sarne
is true and there is no unrighteousness in
Him."'' Finally the chosen vessel being
filled with this feeling wished that he could
be anathema from Christ ^ if only the people
belonging to Him might be increased and
multiplied, and the salvation of the whole
nation of Israel accrue to the glory of His
Father; for with all assurance could he wish
to die for Christ as he knew that no one
perished for life. And again he says: "We

' S. John vii. 18.

8 Cf. Rom. ix. 3.

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rejoice when we are weak but ye are strong." ^
And what wonder if the chosen vessel wished
to be anathema from Christ for the sake of
Christ's glory and the conversion of His own
brethren and the privilege of the nation, when
the prophet Micah wished that he might be a
liar and a stranger to the inspiration of the
Holy Ghost, if only the people of the Jews
might escape those plagues and the going
forth into captivity which he had announced
in his prophecy, saying: ''Would that I were
not a man that hath the Spirit, and that I
rather spoke a lie ; " - — to pass over that wish !
of the Lawgiver, who did not refuse to die 1
together with his brethren who were doomed i
to death, saying : " I beseech Thee, O Lord ;
this people hath sinned a heinous sin; either
forgive them this trespass, or if Thou do not,
blot me out of Thy book which Thou hast
written. "' ^ But where it is said " Hallowed be I
Thy name,"' it may also be very fairly taken in ]
this way : " The hallowing of God is our perfec- ':
tion. " And so when we say to Him " Hallowed
be Thy name " we say in other words, make
us, O Father, such that we may be able both to !
understand and take in what the hallowing of '
Thee is, or at any rate that Thou mayest be
seen to be iiallowed in our spiritual converse.
And this is effectually fulfilled in our case
when " men see our good works, and glorify our
Father which is in heaven."*

CHAPTER XIX.

Of the clause " Thy kingdom come."

The second petition of the pure heart
desires that the kingdom of its Father may
come at once; viz., either that whereby Christ
reigns day by day in the saints (which comes
to pass when the devil's rule is cast out of
our hearts by the destruction of foul sins, and
God begins to hold sway over us by the sweet
odour of virtues, and, fornication being over-
come, charity reigns in our hearts together
with tranquillity, when rage is conquered;
and humility, when pride is trampled under
foot) or else that which is promised in due
time to all who are perfect, and to all the
sons of God, when it will be said to them
by Christ: "Come ye blessed of My Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world; " ^ (as the heart)
with fixed and steadfast gaze, so to speak,
yearns and longs for it and says to Him "Thy

' 2 Cor. xiii. 9.

2 Micah ii. 11.

3 Exod. xxxii. 31.

32-

* S. Matt. V. 16.
0 S. Matt. XXV. 34.

kingdom come." For it knows by the witness
of its own conscience that when He shall
appear, it will presently share His lot. For
no guilty person would dare either to say or
to wish for this, for no one would want to
face the tribunal of the Judge, who knew that
at His coming he would forthwith receive not
the prize or reward of his merits but only
punishment.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the clause " Thy will be done."

The third petition is that of sons: "Thy
will be done as in heaven so on earth." There
can now be no grander prayer than to wish
that earthly things may be made equal with
things heavenly: for what else is it to say
"Thy will be done as in heaven so on earth,"
than to ask that men may be like angels and
that as God's will is ever fulfilled by them in
heaven, so also all those who are on earth
may do not their own but His will? This
too no one could say from the heart but only
one who believed that God disposes for our
good all things which are seen, whether fortu-
nate or unfortunate, and that He is more care-
ful and provident for our good and salvation
than we ourselves are for ourselves. Or at
any rate it may be taken in this way: The will
of God is the salvation of all men, according
to these words of the blessed Paul: "\\'ho
willeth all men to be saved and to come to
the knowledge of the truth." ® Of Avhich will
also the prophet Isaiah says in the Person of
God the Father: "And all Thy will shall be
done. " '' When we say then " Thy will be done
as in heaven so on earth," we pray in other
words for this; viz., that as those who are in
heaven, so also may all those who dwell on
earth be saved, O Father, by the knowledge
of Thee.

CHAPTER XXL

Of our supersubstantial or daily bread.

Next: "Give us this day our bread which
is tmnvoiot' ^'^ i.e., "supersubstantial," which
another Evangelist calls "daily." ** The former
indicates the quality of its nobility and sub-
stance, in virtue of which it is above all

" Tim, ii. 4. ' Is. xlvi. 10.

8 Here Cassinn is relying entirely on Jerome's revised text of
the Latin, which has sufiersii/tstantialts in S. Matt. vi. 11, as the
rendering of eTrcoiio-iO! hut translates the same word by giiotiiiiitnum
in tlie parallel passage in S. Luke xi. 3. It is curiT>us that Cassian
should have been thus misled, witli his knowledge of Greek, as well
as his acquaintance with the old Latin version which has quotidia-
nunt in botli gospels. Cf Bishop Lightfoot " On a Fresh Revision of
the New Testament," p. 219.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

395

substances and the loftiness of its grandeur
and lioliness exceeds all creatures, while the
latter intimates the purpose of its use and
value. For where it says " daily " it shows
that without it we' cannot live a spiritual life
for a single day. Where it says "today" it
shows that it must be received daily and that
yesterday's supply of it is not enough, but
that it must be given to us today also in like
manner. And our daily need of it suggests
to us that we ought at all times to offer up this
prayer, because there is no day on which we
have no need to strengthen the heart of our
inner man, by eating and receiving it, although
the expression used, "today" maybe taken to
apply to his present life, i.e., while we are
living in this world supply us with this bread.
For we know that it will be given to those
who deserve it by Thee hereafter, but we ask
that Thou wouldest grant it to us today,
because unless it has been vouchsafed to a
man to receive it in this life he will never be
partaker of it in that.

CHAPTER XXII.

Of the clause : " Forgive us our debts, etc.''

condeipnation, and by his own profession asks
that he himself may be judged more severely,
saying: Forgive me as 1 also have forgiven.
And if he is repaid according to his own re-
quest, what else will follow but that he will
be punished after his own example with im-
placable wrath and a sentence that cannot be
remitted? And so if we want to be judged
mercifully, we ought also to be merciful
towards those who have sinned against us.
For only so much will be remitted to us, as
we have remitted to those w'ho have injured
us however spitefully. And some dreading
this, when this prayer is chanted by all the
people in church, silently omit this clause,
for fear lest they may seem by their own utter-
ance to bind themselves rather than to ex-
cuse themselves, as they do not understand
that it is in vain that they try to offer these
quibbles to the ludge of all men, who has
willed to show us beforehand how He will
judge His suppliants. For as He does not
wish to be found harsh and inexorable towards
them, He has marked out the manner of His
judgment, that just as we desire to be judged
by Him, so we should also judge our brethren,
if they have wronged us in anything, for "he
shall have judgment without mercy who hath
shown no mercy." ^

"And forgive us our debts as we also for-
give our debtors." O unspeakable mercy of
God, which has not only given us a form of
prayer and taught us a system of life accept-
able to Him, and by the requirements of the
form given, in which He charged us always i
to pray, has torn up the roots of both anger
and sorrow, but also gives to those who pray
an opportunity and reveals to them a way by \
which they may move a merciful and kindly j
judgment of God to be pronounced over them '
and which somehow gives us a power by which
we can moderate the sentence of our Judge,
drawing Him to forgive our offences by the
example of our forgiveness : when we say to
Him: " Forgive us as we also forgive." And
so without anxietv and in confidence from
this prayer a man may ask for pardon of his
own offences, if he has been forgiving towards
his own debtors, and not towards those of his
Lord. For som2 of us, which is very bad,
are inclined to show ourselves calm and most
merciful in regard to those things which are
done to God's detriment, however great the
crimes may be, but to be found most hard and
inexorable exactors of debts to ourselves even
in the case of the most trifling wrongs. Who-
ever then does not from his heart forgive his
brother who has offended him, by this prayer
calls down upon himself not forgiveness but

CHAPTER XXIII.

Of the clause : " Lead us not into temptation."

Next there follows: "And lead us not into
temptation," on which there arises no unim-
portant question, for if we pray that we may not
be suffered to be tempted, how then will our
power of endurance -be proved, according to
this text : " Every one who is not tempted is
not proved ; " ^ and again : " Blessed is the man
that endureth temptation ? " ^ The clause then,
"Lead us not into temptation," does not
mean this; viz., do not permit us ever to be
tempted, but do not permit us when we fall
into temptation to be overcome. For Job
was tempted, but was not led into temptation.
For he did not ascribe folly to God nor blas-
phemy, nor with impious mouth did he yield
to that wish of the tempter toward which he
was drawn. Abraham was tempted, Joseph
was tempted, but neither of them was led into
temptation for neither of them yielded his
consent to the tempter. Next there follows:
"But deliver us from evil," i.e., do not suft'er
us to be tempted by the devil above that we

1 S. James ii. 13. * Ecclus. xxxiv. 11. •^ S. James i. 12.

396

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

are able, but "make with the temptation a way
also of escape that we may be able to bear

It.

V 1

CHAPTER XXIV.

How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those
which are contained in the limits of the Lord's Prayer.

You see then what is the method and form
of prayer proposed to us by the Judge Him-
self, who is to be prayed to by it, a form in
which there is contained no petition for riches,
no thought of honours, no request for power
and might, no mention of bodily health and
of temporal life. For He who is the Author
of Eternity would have men ask of Him no-
thing uncertain, nothing paltry, and nothing
temporal. And so a man will offer the great-
est insult to His Majesty and Bounty, if he
leaves on one side these eternal petitions and
chooses rather to ask of Him something tran-
sitory and uncertain ; and will also incur the
indignation rather than the propitiation of the
Judge by the pettiness of his prayer.

CHAPTER XXV.

Of the character of the sublimer prayer.

This prayer then though it seems to con-
tain all the fulness of perfection, as being
what was originated and appointed by the
Lord's own authority, yet lifts those to whom
it belongs to that still higher condition of
which we spoke above, and carries them on by
a loftier stage to that ardent prayer which is
known and tried by but very few, and which
to speak more truly is ineffable; which tran-
scends all human thoughts, and is distin-
guished, I will not say by any sound of the
voice, but by no movement of the tongue, or
utterance of words, but which the mind en-
lightened by the infusion of that heavenly
light describes in no human and confined
language, but pours forth richly as from a
copious fountain in an accumulation of
thoughts, and ineffably utters to God, express-
ing in the shortest possible space of time such
great things that the mind when it returns to
its usual condition cannot easily utter or
relate. And this condition our Lord also
similarly prefigured by the form of those sup-
plications which, when he retired alone in
the mountain He is said to have poured forth
in silence, and when being in an agony of

* I Cor. X. 13.

prayer He shed forth even drops of blood,
as an example of a purpose which it is hard
to imitate.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Of the different causes of conviction.

But who is able, with whatever experience
he may be endowed, to give a sufificient ac-
count of the varieties and reasons and grounds
of conviction, by which the mind is inflamed
and set on fire and incited to pure and most
fervent prayers? And of these we will now
by way of specimen set forth a few, as far as
we can by God's enlightenment recollect them.
For sometimes a verse of any one of the
Psalms gives us an occasion of ardent prayer
while we are singing. Sometimes the har-
monious modulation of a brother's voice stirs
up the minds of dullards to intense supplica-
tion. We know also that the enunciation and
the reverence of the chanter adds greatly to
the fervour of those who stand by. Moreover
the exhortation of a perfect man, and a spir-
itual conference has often raised the affections
of those present to the richest praj'er. We
know too that by the death of a brother or
some one dear to us, we are no less carried
away to full conviction. The recollection also
of our coldness and carelessness has some-
times aroused in us a healthful fervour of
spirit. And in this way no one can doubt
that numberless opportunities are not want-
ing, by which through God's grace the cold-
ness and sleepiness of our minds can be
shaken off.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Of the different sorts of conviction.

But how and in what way those very convic-
tions are produced from the inmost recesses
of the soul it is no less difficult to trace out.
For often through some inexpressible delight
and keenness of spirit the fruit of a most salu-
tary conviction arises so that it actually breaks
forth into shouts owing to the greatness of
its incontroUable joy; and the delight of the
heart and greatness of exultation makes itself
heard even in the cell of a neighbour. But
sometimes the mind hides itself in complete
silence within the secrets of a profound quiet,
so that the amazement of a sudden illumina-
tion chokes all sounds of words and the over-
awed spirit either keeps all its feelings to it-
self or loses ' them and pours forth its desires

2 Petschenig's text reads "amittat." v. 1. emittat.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOTT ISAAC.

397

to God with groanings that cannot be uttered.
But sometimes it is filled with such over-
whelming conviction and grief that it cannot
express it except by floods of tears.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is
not in our own power.

Germanus : My own poor self indeed is
not altogether ignorant of this feeling of con-
viction. For often when tears arise at the
recollection of my faults, I have been by the
Lord's visitation so refreshed by this ineffable
joy which you describe that the greatness of
the joy has assured me that I ought not to
despair of their forgiveness. Than which state
of mind I think there is nothing more sub-
lime if only it could be recalled at our own
will. For sometimes when I am desirous to
stir myself up with all my power to the same
conviction and tears, and place before my eyes
all my faults and sins, I am unable to bring
back that copiousness of tears, and so my eyes
are dry and hard like some hardest flint, so
that not a single tear trickles from them. And
so in proportion as I congratulate myself on
that copiousness of tears, just so do I mourn
that I cannot bring it back again whenever I
wish.

CHAPTER XXIX.

The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from

tears.

Isaac : Not every kind of shedding of tears
is produced by one feeling or one virtue. For
in one way does that weeping originate which
is caused by the pricks of our sins smiting our
heart, of which we read: "I have laboured
in my groanings, every night I will wash my
bed ; I will water my couch with my tears." ^
And again : " Let tears run down like a torrent
day and night : give thyself no rest, and let
not the apple of thine eye cease." " In another,
that which arises from the contemplation of
eternal good things and the desire of that
future glory, owing to which even richer well-
springs of tears burst forth from uncontrollable
delights and boundless exultation, while our
soul is athirst for the mighty Living God, say-
ing, "When shall I come and appear before the
presence of God? My tears have been my
meat day and night,"* declaring with daily
crying and lamentation: "Woe is me that
my sojourning is prolonged;" and: "Too long

1 Ps. Vi. 7.

Lam. ii. iS'.

3 Ps. xii. (xliii.) 3, 4.

hath my soul been a sojourner." * In another
way do the tears flow forth, which without any
conscience of deadly sin, yet still proceed
from the fear of hell and the recollection of
that terrible judgment, with the terror of
which the prophet was smitten and prayed to
God, saying : " Enter not into judgment w iih
Thy servant, for in Thy sight shall no man
living be justified." ^ There is too another
kind of tears, which are caused not by know-
ledge of one's self but by the hardness and
sins of others ; whereby Samuel is described
as having wept for Saul, and both the Lord in
the gospel and Jeremiah in former days for
the city of Jerusalem, the latter thus saying :
" Oh, that my head were water and mine eyes a
fountain of tears ! And I will weep day and
night for the slain of the daughter of my peo-
ple." ^ Or also such as were those tears of
which we hear in the hundred and first Psalm :
" For I have eaten ashes for my bread, and
mingled my cup with weeping." ^ And these
were certainly not caused by the same feel-
ing as those which arise in the sixth Psalm
from the person of the penitent, but were due
to the anxieties of this life and its distresses
and losses, by which the righteous who are
living in this world are oppressed. And this
is clearly shown not only by the words of the
Psalm itself, but also by its title, which runs
as follows in the character of that poor person
of whom it is said in the gospel that " blessed
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven : " * "A prayer of the poor when he
was in distress and poured forth his prayer to
God." «

CHAPTER XXX.

How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not
flow spontaneously.

From these tears those are vastly different
which are squeezed out from dry eyes while
the heart is hard : and although w'e cannot be-
lieve that these are altogether fruitless (for the
attempt to shed them is made with a good in-
tention, especially by those who have not yet
been able to attain to perfect knowledge or to
be thoroughly cleansed from the stains of past
or present sins), yet certainly the flow of tears
ought not to be thus forced out by those w^ho
have already advanced to the love of virtue,
nor should the weeping of the outward man be
with great labour attempted, as even if it is
produced it will never attain the rich copious-
ness of spontaneous tears. For it will rather

■» Ps. cix. (cxix.) 5, 6.
5 Ps. cxlii. (cxliii.) 2.

" Jer. ix. I.

' Ps. ci. (cii.) 10.

8 S. Matt. V. 3.
» Ps, ci. (cii.) I.

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

cast down the soul of the suppliant by his en- conscience, but for us, whose heart is still smit-

deavours. and humiliate him, and plunge him ten by the pricks of sins, how can we have it,

in human affairs and draw him away from the as we have no merits to plead for us, whereby

celestial heights, wherein the awed mind of we might confidently presume that our prayers

one who prays should be steadfastly fixed, and would be heard ?
will force it to relax its hold on its prayers and

grow sick from barren and forced tears.

CHAPTER XXXI.

The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer.

And that 3-ou may see the character of true
prayer I will give you not my own opinion but
that of the blessfed Antony : whom we have
known sometimes to have been so persistent
in prayer that often as he was praying in a
transport of mind, when the sunrise began to
appear, we have heard him in the fervour of
his spirit declaiming : Why do you hinder
me, O sun, who art arising for this very pur-
pose; viz.. to withdraw me from the bright-
ness of this true light ? And his also is this
heavenly and more than human utterance on
the end of prayer : That is not. said he, a
perfect prayer, wherein a monk understands
himself and the words which he prays. And
if we too, as far as our slender ability allows,
may venture to add anything to this splendid
utterance, we will bring forward the marks of
prayer which are heard from the Lord, as far
as we have tried them.

CHAPTER XXXn.

Of the proof of prayer being heard.

Whex, while we are praying, no hesitation
intervenes and breaks down the confidence of
our petition by a sort of despair, but we feel that
by pouring forth our prayer we have obtained
what we are asking for, we have no doubt that
our prayers have effectually reached God. For
so far will one be heard and obtain an answer,
as he believes that he is regarded by God, and
that God can grant it. For this saying of our
Lord cannot be retracted : " Whatsoever ye ask
when ye pra}-, believe that you shall receive, and
they shall come to you." ^

CHAPTER XXXHL

An objection that the confidence of being thus heard as
described belongs only to saints.

Germanus : We certainly believe that this
confidence of being heard flows from purity of

1 S. Mark xi. 24.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard.

Isaac : That there are different reasons for
prayer being heard in accordance with the varied
and changing condition of souls the words of
the gospels and of the prophets teach us. For
you have the fruits of an answer pointed out
by our Lord's words in the case of the agree-
ment of two persons ; as it is said : " If two of
you shall agree upon earth touching anything
for which they shall ask, it shall be done for
them of my Father which is in heaven." ^ You
have another in the fulness of faith, which is
compared to a grain of mustard-seed. "For,"
He says, " if you have faith as a grain of mustard
seed, ye shall say unto this mountain : Be thou
removed, and it shall be removed ; and nothing
shall be impossible to you." ^ You have it in
continuance in prayer, which the Lord's words
call, by reason of unw^earied perseverance in
petitioning, importunity : ' ' For, verily, I say
unto you that if not because of his friendship,
yet because of his importunity he will rise and
give him as much as he needs." * You have
it in the fruits of almsgiving : " Shut up alms
in the heart of the poor and it shall pray for
thee in the time of tribulation." ^ You have it
in the purifying of life and in works of mercy,
as it is said : ' ' Loose the bands of wickedness,
undo the bundles that oppress ; " and after a
few words in which the barrenness of an un-
fruitful fast is rebuked. " then," he says, " thou
shalt call and the Lord shall hear thee ; thou
shalt crv, and He shall sav. Here am I." ^

cry.

say,

Sometimes also excess of trouble causes it to
be heard, as it is said : " When I was in trou-
ble I called unto the Lord, and He heard me ; " ^
and again : " Afflict not the stranger for if he
crieth unto Me, I will hear him, for I am mer-
ciful." ^ You see then in how many ways the
gift of an answer may be obtained, so that no
one need be crushed by the despair of his con-
science for securing those things which are salu-
tary and eternal. For if in contemplating our
wretchedness I admit that we are utterly desti-
tute of all those virtues which we mentioned
above, and that we have neither that laudable
agreement of two persons, nor that faith which

2 S. Matt, xviii. 19. * Ecclus. xxix. 15. '' Ps. cxix. (cxx.) i.

3 S. Matt. xvii. 19. « Is. Iviii. 6, g. » Exod. xxu. 21, 27.
* S. Luke xi. 8.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

399

is compared to a grain of mustard seed, nor
those works of piety which the prophet de-
scribes, surely we cannot be without that im-
portunity which He supplies to all who desire
it, owing to which alone the Lord promises
that He will give whatever He has been prayed
to give. And therefore we ought without un-
believing hesitation to persevere, and not to
have the least doubt that by continuing in
them we shall obtain all those things which
we have asked according to the mind of God.
For the Lord, in His desire to grant what is
heavenly and eternal, urges us to constrain
Him as it were by our importunity, as He not
only does not despise or reject the importunate,
but actually welcomes and praises them, and
most graciously promises to grant whatever
they have perseveringly hoped for ; saying,
" Ask and ye shall receive : seek and ye shall
find : knock and it shall be opened unto you.
For every one that asketh receiveth, and he
that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh
it shall be opened ; " ^ and again : " All things
whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing ye
shall receive, and nothing shall be impossible
to you." ^ And therefore even if all the grounds
for being heard which we have mentioned are
altogether wanting, at any rate the earnestness
of importunity may animate us, as this is
placed in the power of any one who wills
without the difficulties of any merits or labours.
But let not any suppliant doubt that he cer-
tainly will not be heard, so long as he doubts
whether he is heard. But that this also shall
be sought from the Lord unweariedly, we are
taught by the example of the blessed Daniel,
as, though he was heard from the first day
on which he began to pray, he only obtained
the result of his petition after one and twenty
days.^ Wherefore we also ought not to grow
slack in the earnestness of the prayers we have
begun, if we fancy that the answer comes but
slowly, for fear lest perhaps the gift of the
answer be in God's providence delayed, or
the angel, who was to bring the Divine bless-
ing to us, may when he comes forth from the
Presence of the Almighty be hindered by the
resistance of the devil, as it is certain that he
cannot transmit and bring to us the desired
boon, if he finds that we slack off from the
earnestness of the petition made. And this
would certainly have happened to the above
m-jntioned prophet unless he had with incom-
p*arable steadfastness prolonged and persevered
in his prayers until the twenty-first day. Let
us then not be at all cast down by despair
from the confidence of this faith of ours, even
when we fancy that we are far from having ob-

tained what we prayed for, and let us not have
any doubts about the Lord's promise where
He says : " All things, whatsoever ye shall ask
in prayer believing, ye shall receive." * For it
is well for us to consider this saying of the
blessed Evangelist John, by which the ambiguity
of this question is clearly solved : " This is," he
says, " the confidence which we have in Him,
that whatsoever we ask according to His will.
He heareth us." ^ He bids us then have a full
and undoubting confidence of the answer
only in those things which are not for our
own advantage or for temporal comforts,
but are in conformity to the Lord's will.
And we are also taught to put this into our
prayers by the Lord's Prayer, where we say
" Thy will be done," — 2'hine not ours. For if
we also remember these words of the Apostle
that " we know not what to pray for as we
ought " ® we shall see that we sometimes ask
for things opposed to our salvation and that
we are most providentially refused our requests
by Him who sees what is good for us with
greater right and truth than we can. And it
is clear that this also happened to the teacher
of the Gentiles when he prayed that the mes-
senger of Satan who had been for his good
allowed by the Lord's will to buffet him, might
be removed, saying : " For which I besought
the Lord thrice that he might depart from me.
And He said unto me. My grace is sufficient
for thee, for strength is made perfect in weak-
ness." '^ And this feeling even our Lord ex-
pressed when He prayed in the character ^ of
man which He had taken, that He might give
us a form of prayer as other things also by
His example ; saying thus : " Father, if it be
possible, let this cup pass from me : neverthe-
less not as I will but as Thou wilt," ^ though
certainly His will was not discordant with His
Father's will, " For He had come to save what
was lost and to give His life a ransom for
many ; " ^° as He Himself says : •' No man taketh
my life from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.
I have power to lay it down and I have power
to take it again." " In which character there is
in the thirty-ninth Psalm the following sung by
the blessed David, of the Unity of will which
He ever maintained with the Father : " To do
Thy will: O My God, I am willing." ^- For even
if we read of the Father : " For God so loved
the world that He gave His only begotten

1 S. Luke xi. 9, 10. 2 S. Matt. xxi. 22 ; xvii. 20. ^ Cf. Dan. x. 2

sq.

•» S. Matt. xxi. 22. " Rom. viii. 26.

6 I John V. 16. ' 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9.

8 Ex persona hominis assumpti. The language is scarcely accu-
rate, but it must be remembered that the Conferences were written
before the rise of the Nestorian heresy had shown the need of

3 of expression on the subject of the Incarnation,
note on "Against Nestorius," Book III. c. iii.

exactness

pare the note on " Against

" S. Matt. xxvi. 39.

1" S. Matt, xviii. 11 ; xx.

Coni-

11 S. John X. 18.

12 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 9.

400

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

Son," ^ we find none the less of the Son:
" Who gave Himself for our sins." '^ And as it
is said of the One : " Who spared not His own
Son, but gave Him for all of us," ^ so it is written
of the other : " He was offered because He
Himself willed it." * And it is shown that
the will of the Father and of the Son is in
all things one, so that even in the actual
mystery of the Lord's resurrection we are
taught that there was no discord of operation.
For just as the blessed Apostle declares that
the Father brought about the resurrection of
His body, saying : " And God the Father, who
raised Him from the dead," ^ so also the Son
testifies that He Flimself will raise again the
Temple of His body, saying : " Destroy this
temple, and in three days 1 will raise it up
again." ^ And therefore we being instructed
by all these examples of our Lord which have
been enumerated ought to end our supplica-
tions also with the same prayer, and always to
subjoin this clause to all our petitions : " Never-
theless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." '' But
it is clear enough that one who does not ^ pray
with attention of mind cannot observe that
threefold reverence ^ which is usually practised
in the assemblies of the brethren at the close
of service.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Of prayer to be offered within the chamber and with the door

shut.

Before all things however we ought most
carefully to observe the Evangelic precept,
which tells us to enter into our chamber and
shut the door and pray to our Father, which
may be fulfilled by us as follows : We pray with-
in our chamber, when removing our hearts
inwardly from the din of all thoughts and
anxieties, we disclose our prayers in secret and
in closest intercourse to the Lord. We pray
with closed doors when with closed lips and
complete silence we pray to the searcher not
of words but of hearts. We pray in secret
when from the heart and fervent mind we
disclose our petitions to God alone, so that
no hostile powers are even able to discover
the character of our petition. Wherefore we

' I John iii. i6. ^ Rom. viii. 32. ^ Gal. i. i.

- Gal. i. 4. * Is. liii. 7. (Lat.) "^ S. John ii. ig.

' S. Matt. xxvi. 39.

8 "Non" though wanting inmost MSS. must be read in the
text.

0 Reading " curvationis " with Petschenig : the text of Gazxus has
" orationis."

should pray in complete silence, not only to
avoid distracting the brethren standing near
by our whispers or louder utterances, and dis-
turbing the thoughts of those who are praying,
but also that the purport of our petition may
be concealed from our enemies who are es-
pecially on the watch against us while we are
praying. For so we shall fulfil this injunc-
tion : " Keep the doors of thy mouth from her
who sleepeth in thy bosom." ^^

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Of the value of short and silent prayer.

Wherefore we ought to pray often but
briefly, lest if we are long about it our crafty foe
may succeed in implanting something in our
heart. For that is the true sacrifice, as " the sac-
rifice of God is a broken spirit." This is the
salutary offering, these are pure drink offerings,
that is the "sacrifice of righteousness," the
" sacrifice of praise," these are true and fat
victims, " holocausts full of marrow," Avhich are
offered by contrite and humble hearts, and
which those who practise this control and
fervour of spirit, of which we have spoken,
with effectual power can sing : " Let my prayer
be set forth in Thy sight as the incense : let
the lifting up of my hands be an evening sac-
rifice." " But the approach of the right hour
and of night warns us that we ought with fit-
ting devotion to do this very thing, of which,
as our slender ability allowed, we seem to
have propounded a great deal, and to have
prolonged our conference considerably, though
we believe that we have discoursed very little
when the magnificence and difficulty of the
subject are taken into account.

With these words of the holy Isaac we were
dazzled rather than satisfied, and after evening
service had been held, rested our limbs for a
short time, and intending at the first dawn
again to return under promise of a fuller
discussion departed, rejoicing over the acqui-
sition of these precepts as well as over the
assurance of his promises. Since we felt that
though the excellence of prayer had been
shown to us, still we had not yet understood
from his discourse its nature, and the power
by which continuance in it might be gained
and kept.

'" Micah vii. 5.

11 Ps. 1. (U.) 19, 21; xlix. (1.) =3; Ixv. (Ixvi.) 15; cxl. (cxh.)2.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

401

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

ON PRAYER.

CHAPTER I.

Introduction.

Among the sublime customs of the anchor-
ites which by God's Iielp have been set forth
although in plain and unadorned style, the
course of our narration compels us to insert
and find a place for something, which may
seem so to speak to cause a blemish on a fair
body : although I have no doubt that by it no
small instruction on the image of Almighty
God of which w^e read in Genesis will be con-
ferred on some of the simpler sort, especially
when the grounds are considered of a doctrine
so important that men cannot be ignorant of
it without terrible blasphemy and serious harm
to the Catholic faith.

CHAPTER n.

Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for
signifying the time of Easter.

In the country of Egypt this custom is by
ancient tradition observed that — when Epiph-
any is past, which the priests of that province
regard as the time, both of our Lord's baptism
and also of His birth in the flesh, and so cele-
brate the commemoration of either mystery
not separately as in the Western provinces but
on the single festival of this day,^ — letters are

' The observance of Epiphany can be traced back in the Chris-
tian Ch.urch to the second century, and, as Cassian tells us here, in
the East (in which its observance apparently oricrinated) it was in
the first instance a double festival, conmietnorating both the Nativity
and the Baptism of our l.ord. From the East its observance passed
over to the West, where however the Nativity was already observed
as a separate festival, and hence the i/ffM/ reference of Epiphany
was somewhat altered, and the manifestation to the Magi was coupled
witli that at the Baptism : hence the plural Epiphitniortim dies.
Meanwhile, as the West adopted the observance of this festival from
the East, so tlie East followed the West in observin;; a separate feast
of the Nati''ity. Cassian's words show us that when he wrote the
two festivals were both observed separately in the West, though
apparently not yet (to the best of his belief I in the East, but the
languajje of a homily by S. Chrysostom (Vol. ii. p. 354 Kd. Mont-
faucon) delivered in A.D. 386 shows that the separation of the two
festivals had already begun at Antioch, and all the evidence goes to
show that "the Western plan was being gradually adopted in the
period which we may roughly define as the last quarter of the 4th
and the first quarter of the 5th century." Dictionary of Christian
Antiquities, Vol. i. p. 361. See further Origines du Culte Chretien,
par L'Abbe Duchesne, p. 247 sq.

sent from the Bishop of Alexandria through
all the Churches of Egypt, by which the begin-
ning of Lent, and the day of Easter are pointed
out not only in all the cities but also in all the
monasteries.- In accordance then with this
custom, a very few days after the previous
conference had been held with Abbot Isaac,
there arrived the festal letters of Theophilus ^
the Bishop of the aforesaid city, in which
together with the announcement of Easter
he considered as well the foolish heresy of
the Anthropomorphites * at great length, and
abundantly refuted it. And this was received
by almost all the body of monks residing in
the whole province of Egypt with such bitter-
ness owing to their simplicity and error, that
the greater part of the Elders decreed that on
the contrary the aforesaid Bishop ought to be
abhorred by the whole body of the brethren
as tainted wdth heresy of the worst kind,
because he seemed to impugn the teaching of
holy Scripture by the denial that Almighty
God was formed in the fashion of a human

2 The " Festal letters" (eoprao-TtKat i-nnnoka-i, Euseb. VII. xx.,
xxi.) were delivered by the Bishop of Alexandria as Homilies, and
then put into the form of an Epistle and sent round to all the churches
of Egy;pt ; and, according to some late writers, to the Bishops of all
the principal sees, in accordance with a decision of the Council of
Nicaea, in order to inform them of the right day on which Easter
should be celebrated. Cassian here speaks of them as sent imme-
diately after Epiphany, and this was certainly the time at which the
announcement of the date of Easter was made in the West shortly
after his day (so the Council of Orleans, Canon i., a.d. 541) ; that of
Braga a.d. 572, Canon ix. ; and that of Auxerre a.d. 572, Canon ii.),
but there is ample evidence in the Festal letters both of -S. Atliana-
sius and of S. Cyril that at Alexandria the homilies were preached
on the previous Easter, and it is difficult to resist the inference that
Cassian's memory is here at fault as to the exact time at which the
incident related really occurred, and that he is transferring to Egypt
the custom with which he was familiar in the West, assigning
to the festival of Epiphany what really must have taken place at
Easter.

^ Theophilus succeeded Timothy as Bishop of Alexandria in the
summer of 3S5. The festal letters of which Cassian here speaks
were issued by him in the year 399.

* The .Anthropomorphite heresy, into which the monks of Egypt
had fallen, "supposed that Cod possesses eyes, a face, and hands
and other members of a bodily organization." It arose from tak-
ing too literally those passages of the Old Testament in which God
is spoken of in human terms, out of condescension to man's limited
powers of grasping the Divine nature and appears historically to
liave been a recoil frotn the allegorism of Origen and others of the
Alexandrian school. The Festal letter of Theophilus in which he
condemned these views, and maintained the incorporeal nature of
God is no longer extant, but is alluded to also by Sozomen, H. E.
VIII. xi., where an account is given of the Origenistic controversy,
of which it was the occasion, and out of which Theophilus came so
badly. On the heresy see also Epiphanius, Hsr. Ixx.; Augustine,
Hsr. 1. and l.xxvi.; and Theodoret, H. E. IV. x.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

figure, though Scripture teaches with perfect
clearness that Adam was created in His image.
Lastly this letter was rejected also by those
who were living in the desert of Scete and who
excelled all who were in the monasteries of
Egypt, in perfection and in knowledge, so that
except Abbot Paphnutius the presbyter of our
congregation, not one of the other presbyters,
who presided over the other three churches in
the same desert, would suffer it to be even
read or repeated at all in their meetings.

CHAPTER HI.

Of Abbot Sarapion and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites
into which he fell in the error of simplicity.

Among those then who were caught by this
mistaken notion was one named Sarapion, a
man of long-standing strictness of life, and
one who was altogether perfect in actual dis-
cipline, whose ignorance with regard to the
view of the doctrine first mentioned was so far
a stumbling block to all who held the true
faith, as he himself outstripped almost all the
monks both in the merits of his life and in
the length of time (he had been there). And
when this man could not be brought back to
the way of the right faith by many exhorta-
tions of the holy presbyter Paphnutius, because
this view seemed to him a novelty, and one
that was not ever known to or handed down
by his predecessors, it chanced that a certain
deacon, a man of very great learning, named
Photinus, arrived from the region of Cappa-
docia with the desire of visiting the brethren
living in the same desert : whom the blessed
Paphnutius received with the warmest wel-
come, and in order to confirm the faith which
had been stated in the letters of the aforesaid
Bishop, placed him in the midst and asked
him before all the brethren how the Catholic
Churches throughout the East interpreted the
passage in Genesis where it says " Let us make
man after our image and likeness."-' And
when he explained that the image and like-
ness of God was taken by all the leaders of
the churches not according to the base sound
of the letters, but spiritually, and supported this
very fully and by many passages of Scripture,
and showed that nothing of .this sort could
happen to that infinite and incomprehensible
and invisible glory, so that it could be com-
prised in a human form and likeness, since its
nature is incorporeal and uncompounded and

1 Gen. i. 26.

simple, and what can neither be apprehended
j by the eyes nor conceived by the mind, at
length the old man was shaken by the numer-
'. ous and very weighty assertions of this most
learned man, and was drawn to the faith of
the Catholic tradition. And when both Abbot
Paphnutius and all of us were filled with intense
I delight at his adhesion, for this reason ; viz.,
I that the Lord had not permitted a man of such
age and crowned with such virtues, and one
who erred only from ignorance and rustic sim-
plicity, to wander from the path of the right
faith up to the very last, and when we arose to
give thanl^s, and were all together off^ering up
our prayers to the Lord, the old man was so
bewildered in mind during his prayer because
he felt that the Anthropomorphic image of the
Godhead which he used to set before himself
in prayer, was banished from his heart, that
on a sudden he burst into a flood of iDitter
tears and continual sobs, and cast himself
down on the ground and exclaimed with strong
groanings : " Alas ! wretched man that I am !
they have taken away my God from me, and I
have now none to lay hold of ; and whom to
worship and address I know not.'' By which
scene we were terribly disturbed, and more-
over with the effect of the former Conference
still remaining in our hearts, we returned to
Abbot Isaac, whom when we saw close at
hand, we addressed with these words.

CHAPTER IV.

Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the
error into which the aforesaid old man had fallen.

Although even besides the fresh matter
which has lately arisen, our delight in the
former conference which was held on the char-
acter of prayer would summon us to postpone
everything else and return to your holiness, yet
this grievous error of Abbot Sarapion, con-
ceived, as we fancy, by the craft of most vile
demons, adds somewhat to this desire of ours.
For it is no small despair by which we are cast
down when we consider that through the fault
of this ignorance he has not only utterly lost all
those labours which he has performed in so
praiseworthy a manner for fifty years in this
desert, but has also incurred the risk of eternal
death. And so we want first to know why and
wherefore so grievous an error has crept into
him. And next we should like to be taught how
we can arrive at that condition in prayer, of
which you discoursed some time back not only
fully but splendidly. For that admirable Con-

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

403

ference has had this effect upon us, that it has
only dazzled our minds and has not shown us
how to perform or secure it.

CHAPTER V.

The answer on the heresy described above.

Isaac : We need not be surprised that a
really simple man who had never received any
instruction on the substance and nature of the
Godhead could still be entangled and deceived
by an error of simplicity and the habit of a long-
standing mistake, and (to speak more truly)
continue in the original error which is brought
about, not as you suppose by a new illusion of
the demons, but by the ignorance of the ancient
heathen world, while in accordance with the
custom of that erroneous notion, by which they
used to worship devils formed in the figure of
men, they even now think that the incompre-
hensible and ineffable glory of the true Deity
should be worshipped under the limitations of
some figure, as they believe that they can grasp
and hold nothing if they have not some image
set before them, which they can continually
address while they are q.t their devotions, and
which they can carry about in their mind and
have always fixed before their eyes. And
against this mistake of theirs this text may be
used : " And they changed the glory of the
incorruptible God into the likeness of the
image of corruptible man." -^ Jeremiah also
says : " My people have changed their glory
for an idol." " Which error although by this
its origin, of which we have spoken, it is en-
grained in the notions of some, yet none the
less is it contracted in the hearts also of those
who have never been stained with the supersti-
tion of the heathen world, under the colour of
this passage where it is said " Let us make man
after our image and our likeness," ^ ignorance
and simplicity being its authors, so that actu-
ally there has arisen owang to this hateful
interpretation a heresy called that of the An-
thropomorphites, which maintains with obsti-
nate perverseness that the infinite and simple
substance of the Godhead is fashioned in our
lineaments and human configuration. Which
however any one who has been taught the
Catholic doctrine will abhor as heathenish blas-
phemy, and so will arrive at that perfectly pure
condition in prayer which will not only not con-
nect with its prayers any figure of the Godhead
or bodily lineaments (which it is a sin even to
speak of), but will not even allow in itself even
the memory of a name, or the appearance of
an action, or an outline of any character.

* Rom. i. 23.

Jer. ii. 1 1.

3 Gen. i. 26.

CHAPTER VI.

Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us
either in His humility or in His glorified condition.

For according to the measure of its purity,
as I said in the former Conference, each mind
is both raised and moulded in its prayer, if
it forsakes the consideration of earthly and
material things so far as the condition of its
purity may carry it forward, and enable it with
the inner eyes of the soul to see Jesus either
still in His humility and in the flesh, or glori-
fied and coming in the glory of His Majesty :
for those cannot see Jesus coming in His
Kingdom who are still kept back in a sort of
state of Jewish weakness, and cannot say with
the Apostle : " And if we have known Christ
after the flesh, yet now we know Him so no
more ; " ^ but only those can look with purest
eyes on His Godhead, who rise with Him from
low and earthly works and thoughts and go
apart in the lofty mountain of solitude which
is free from the disturbance of all earthly
thoughts and troubles, and secure from the
interference of all sins, and being exalted by
pure faith and the heights of virtue reveals
the glory of His Face and the image of His
splendour to those who are able to look on
Him with pure eyes of the soul. But Jesus is
seen as well by those who live in towns and
villages and hamlets, i.e., who are occupied in
practical affairs and w^orks, but not with the
same brightness with which He appeared to
those who can go up with Him into the afore-
said mount of virtues, i.e., Peter, James, and
John. For so in solitude He appeared to Moses
and spoke with Elias. And as our Lord wished
to establish this and to leave us examples
of perfect purity, although He Himself, the
very fount of inviolable sanctity, had no need
of external help and the assistance of soli-
tude in order to secure it (for the fulness of
purity could not be soiled by any stain from
crowds, nor could He be contaminated by in-
tercourse w'ith men, who cleanses and sanctifies
all things that are polluted) yet still He retired
into the mountain alone to pray, thus teach-
ing us by the example of His retirement that
if we too wish to approach God with a pure
and spotless affection of heart, we should also
retire from all the disturbance and confusion
of crowds, so that while still living in the body we
may manage in some degree to adapt ourselves
to some likeness of that bliss which is promised
hereafter to the saints, and that '' God may
be" to us "all in all."^

* 2 Cor. V. 16.

5 I Cor. XV. 28.

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CHAPTER VII.

What constitutes our end and perfect bliss.

For then will be perfectly fulfilled in our
case that prayer of our Saviour in which He
prayed for His disciples to the Father saying :
" that the love wherewith Thou lovedst Me
may be in them and they in us ; " and again :
" that they all may be one as Thou, Father, in
Me and I in Thee, that they also may be one
in us," ^ when that perfect love of God, where-
with " He first loved us" ^ has passed into the
feelings of our heart as well, by the fulfilment
of this prayer of the Lord which we believe
cannot possibly be ineffectual. And this will
come to pass when God shall be all our love,
and every desire and wish and effort, every
thought of ours, and all our life and words and
breath, and that unity which already exists
between the Father and the Son, and the Son
and the Father, has been shed abroad in our
hearts and minds, so that as He loves us
with a pure and unfeigned and indissoluble
love, so we also may be joined to Him by a
lasting and inseparable affection, since we are
so united to Him that whatever we breathe or
think, or speak is God, since, as I say, we
attain to that end of which we spoke before,
which the same Lord in His prayer hopes may
be fulfilled in us : •' that they all may be one as
we are one, I in them and Thou in Me, that
they also may be made perfect in one ; " and
again : " Father, those whom Thou hast given
Me, I will that where I am, they may also be
with Me." ^ This then ought to be the destina-
tion of the solitary, this should be all his aim
that it may be vouchsafed to him to possess
even in the body an image of future bliss, and
that he may begin in this world to have a
foretaste of a sort of earnest of that celestial
life and glory. This, I say, is the end of all
perfection, that the mind purged from all car-
nal desires may daily be lifted towards spir-
itual things, until the whole life and all the
thoughts of the heart become one continuous
prayer.

CHAPTER VIIL

A question on the training in perfection by which we can
arrive at perpetual recollection of God.

Germanus : The extent of our bewilder-
ment at our wondering awe at the former
Conference, because of which we came back
again, increases still more. For in proportion

1 S. John xvii. 26, 21. - i John iv. 16. " S. John xvii. 22-24.

as by the incitements of this teaching we are
fired with the desire of perfect bliss, so do we
fall back into greater despair, as we know not
how to seek or obtain training for such lofty
heights. Wherefore we entreat that you will
patiently allow us (for it must perhaps be set
forth and unfolded with a good deal of talk) to
explain what w^hile sitting in the cell we had
begun to revolve in a lengthy meditation,
although we know that your holiness is not at
all troubled by the infirmities of the weak,
which even for this reason should be openly
set forth, that Avhat is out of place in them
may receive correction. Our notion then is
that the perfection of any art or system of
training must begin with some simple rudi-
ments, and grow accustomed first to somewhat
easy and tender beginnings, so that being
nourished and trained little by little by a sort
of reasonable milk, it may grow up and so by
degrees and step by step mount up from the
lowest depths to the heights : and when by
these means it has entered on the plainer prin-
ciples and so to speak passed the gates of the
entrance of the profession, it will consequently
arrive without difficulty at the inmost shrine
and lofty heights of perfection. For how
could any boy manage to pronounce the sim-
plest union of syllables unless he had first
carefully learnt the letters of the alphabet ? Or
how can any one learn to read quickly, who is
still unfit to connect together short and simple
sentences ? But by what means Avill one who
is ill instructed in the science of grammar
attain eloquence in rhetoric or the knowledge
of philosophy? Wherefore for this highest
learning also, by which we are taught even to
cleave to God, 1 have no doubt that there are
some foundations of the system, which must
first be firmly laid and afterwards the towering
heights of perfection may be placed and raised
upon them. And we have a slight idea that
these are its first principles ; viz., that we should
first learn by what meditations God may be
grasped and contemplated, and next that we
should manage to keep a very firm hold of this
topic whatever it is which we do not doubt is
the height of all perfection. And therefore we
"want you to show us some material for this
recollection, by which we may conceive and
ever keep the idea of God in the mind, so that
by always keeping it before our eyes, when we
find that we have dropped away from Him.
we may at once be able to recover ourselves
and return thither and may succeed in laying
hold of it again without any delay from wan-
dering around the subject and searching for it.
For it happens that when we have wandered
away from our spiritual speculations and
have come back to ourselves as if waking from

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

405

a deadly sleep, and, being thoroughl}^ roused,
look for the subject matter, by which we may
be able to revive that spiritual recollection
which has been destroyed, we are hindered by
the delay of the actual search before we find
it, and are once more drawn aside from our
endeavour, and before the spiritual insight is
brought about, the purpose of heart which had
been conceived, has disappeared. And this
trouble is certain to happen to us for this
reason because we do not keep something
special firmly set before our eyes like some
principle to which the wandering thoughts
may be recalled after many digressions and
varied excursions ; and, if I may use the ex-
pression, after long storms enter a quiet haven.
And so it comes to pass that as the mind is
constantly hindered by this want of knowledge
and difficulty, and is always tossed about
vaguely, and as if intoxicated, among various
matters, and cannot even retain firm hold for
any length of time of anything spiritual which
has occurred to it by chance rather than of set
purpose : while, as it is always receiving one
thing after another, it does not notice either
their beginning and origin or even their end.

CHAPTER IX.

The answer on the efficacy of understanding, which is
gained by experience.

Isaac : Your minute and subtle inquiry
affords an indication of purity being very
nearly reached. For no one would be able
even to make inquiries on these matters, —
I will not say to look within and discriminate,
— except one who had been urged to sound
the depths of such questions by careful and
effectual diligence of mind, and watchful
anxiety, and one whom the constant aim after
a well controlled life had taught by practical
experience to attempt the entrance to this
purity and to knock at its doors. And there-
fore as I see you, I will not say, standing
before the doors of that true prayer of which
we have been speaking, but touching its inner
chambers and inward parts as it were with
the hands of experience, and already laying
hold of some parts of it, I do not think that I
shall find any difficulty in introducing you now
within what I may call its hall, for you to roam
about its recesses, as the Lord may direct ;
nor do I think that you will be hindered from
investigating what is to be shown you by any
obstacles or difficulties. For he is next door
to understanding who carefully recognizes what
he ought to ask about, nor is he far from
knowledge, who begins to understand how

ignorant he is. And therefore I am not afraid
of the charge of betraying secrets, and of
levity, if I divulge what when speaking in
my former discourse on the perfection of
prayer I had kept back from discussing, as I
think that its force was to be explained to us
who are occupied with this subject and inter-
est even without the aid of ifiy words, by the

grace of God.

CHAPTER X.

Of the method of continual prayer.

Wherefore in accordance with that system,
which you admirably compared to teaching
children (who can only take in the first lessons
on the alphabet and recognize the shapes of
the letters, and trace out their characters with
a steady hand if they have, by means of some
copies and shapes carefully impressed on wax,
got accustomed to express their figures, by
constantly looking at them and imitating them
daily), we must give you also the form of this
spiritual contemplation, on which you may
always fix your gaze with the utmost steadiness,
and both learn to consider it to your profit in
unbroken continuance, and also manage by the
practice of it and by meditation to climb to a
still loftier insight. This formula then shall
be proposed to you of this system, which you
want, and of prayer, which every monk in his
progress towards continual recollection of God,
is accustomed to ponder, ceaselessly revolv-
ing it in his heart, having got rid of all
kinds of other thoughts ; for he cannot possibly
keep his hold over it unless he has freed him-
self from all bodily cares and anxieties. And
as this was delivered to us by a few of those
who were left of the oldest fathers, so it is only
divulged by us to a very few and to those who
are really keen. And so for keeping up con-
tinual recollection of God this pious formula is
to be ever set before you. " O God, make
speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help
me," ^ for this verse has not unreasonably been
picked out from the whole of Scripture for
this purpose. For it embraces all the feelings
which can be implanted in human nature, and
can be fitly and satisfactorily adapted to every
condition, and all assaults. Since it contains
an invocation of God against every danger, it
contains humble and pious confession, it con-
tains the watchfulness of anxiety and continual
fear, it contains the thought of one's own
weakness, confidence in the answer, and the
assurance of a present and ever ready help.

1 Ps. Ixix. Qxx.') 2. It is not improbable that this chapter sug-
gested to S. Benedict the use of these words as the opening versicle
of the hour services, a position which it has ever since occupied in
the West. See the Rule of S. Benedict, cc. ix., xvii., and xviii.

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For one who is constantly calling on his pro-
tector, is certain that He is always at hand.
It contains the glow of love and charity, it con-
tains a view of the plots, and a dread of the
enemies, from which one, who sees himself day
and night hemmed in by them, confesses that
he cannot be set free without the aid of his
defender. Thi^ verse is an impregnable wall
for all who are labouring under the attacks of
demons, as well as impenetrable coat of mail
and a strong shield. It does not suffer those
who are in a state of moroseness and anxiety
of mind, or depressed by sadness or all kinds
of thoughts to despair of saving remedies, as
it shows that He, who is invoked, is ever look-
ing on at our struggles and is not far from His
suppliants. It warns us whose lot is spiritual
success and delight of heart that we ought not
to be at all elated or puffed up by our happy
condition, which it assures us cannot last with-
out God as our protector, while it implores
Him not only always but even speedily to help
us. This verse, I say, will be found helpful
and useful to every one of us in whatever con-
dition we may be. For one who always and
in all matters wants to be helped, shows that
he needs the assistance of God not only in
sorrowful or hard matters but also equally in
prosperous and happy ones, that he may be de-
livered from the one and also made to continue
in the other, as he knows that in both of them
human weakness is unable to endure without
His assistance. I am affected by the passion
of gluttony. I ask for food of which the des-
ert knows nothing, and in the squalid desert
there are wafted to me odours of royal dainties,
and I find that even against my will I am drawn
to long for them. I must at once say : " O
God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make
haste to help me." I am incited to anticipate
the hour fixed for supper, or I am trying with
great sorrow of heart to keep to the limits of
the right and regular meagre fare. I must cry
out with groans: "O God, make speed to save
me : O Lord, make haste to help me." Weak-
ness of the stomach hinders me when wanting
severer fasts, on account of the assaults of the
fiesh, or dryness of the belly and constipation
frightens me. In order that effect may be
given to my wishes, or else that the fire of car-
nal lust may be quenched without the remedy
of a stricter fast, I must pray : " O God, make
speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help
me." When I come to supper, at the bidding
of the proper hour I loathe taking food and am
prevented from eating anything to satisfy the
requirements of nature : I must cry with a
sigh : " () (}od. make speed to save me : O Lord,
make haste to help me." When I want for the
sake of steadfastness of heart to apply myself

to reading a headache interferes and stops me,
and at the third hour sleep glues my head to
the sacred page, and I am forced either to
overstep or to anticipate the time assigned
to rest ; and finally an overpowering desire to
sleep forces me to cut short the canonical rule
for service in the Psalms : in the same way I
must cry out : " O God, make speed to save me :

0 Lord, make haste to help me." Sleep is
withdrawn from my eyes, and for many nights

1 find myself wearied out with sleeplessness
caused by the devil, and all repose and rest by
night is kept away from my eyelids ; I must sigh
and pray : " O God, make speed to save me :
O Lord, make haste to help me." While I am
still in the midst of a struggle with sin sud-
denly an irritation of the flesh affects me and
tries by a pleasant sensation to draw me to
consent while in my sleep. In order that a
raging fire from without may not burn up the
fragrant blossoms of chastity, I must cry out :
" O God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make
haste to help me." I feel that the incentive to
lust is removed, and that the heat of passion
has died away in my members : In order that
this good condition acquired, or rather that this
grace of God may continue still longer or for-
ever with me, I must earnestly say : " O God,
make speed to save me : O Lord, make haste
to help me." I am disturbed by the pangs of
anger, covetousness, gloominess, and driven to
disturb the peaceful state in which I was, and
which was dear to me : In order that I may
not be carried away by raging passion into the
bitterness of gall, I must cry out with deep
groans : " O God, make speed to save me : O
Lord, make haste to help me." I am tried by
being puft'ed up by accidie, vainglory, and
pride, and my mind with subtle thoughts flat-
ters itself somewhat on account of the coldness
and carelessness of others : In order that this
dangerous suggestion of the enemy may not get
the mastery over' me, I must pray with all con-
trition of heart : " O God, make speed to save
me : O Lord, make haste to help me." I have
gained the grace of humility and simplicity,
and by continually mortifying my spirit have got
rid of the swellings of pride : In order that the
"foot of pride" may not again "come against
me," and "the hand of the sinner disturb me," ^
and that I may not be more seriously damaged
by elation at my success, I must cry with all
my might, " O God, make speed to save me : O
Lord, make haste to help me." I am on fire
with innumerable and various wanderings of
soul and shiftiness of heart, and cannot collect
my scattered thoughts, nor can I even pour
forth my prayer without interruption and images

' Ps. XXXV. (xxxvi.) 12.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

407

of vain figures, and the recollection of conver-
sations and actions, and I feel myself tied down
by such dryness and barrenness that 1 feel I
cannot give birth to any offspring in the shape
of spiritual ideas : In order that it may be
vouchsafed to me to be set free from this
wretched state of mind, from which I cannot
extricate myself by any number of sighs and
groans, I must full surely cry out : " O God, make
speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help
me." Again, I feel that by the visitation of
the Holy Spirit I have gained purpose of soul,
steadfastness of thought, keenness of heart,
together with an ineffable joy and transport of
mind, and in the exuberance of spiritual feel-
ings I have perceived by a sudden illumination
from the Lord an abounding revelation of most
holy ideas which were formerly altogether hid-
den from me : In order that it may be vouch-
safed to me to linger for a longer time in them
I must often and anxiously exclaim : " O God,
make speed to save me : O Lord, make haste
to help me." Encompassed by nightly horrors
of devils I am agitated, and am disturbed by
the appearances of unclean spirits, my very hope
of life and salvation is withdrawn by the hor-
ror of fear. Flying to the safe refuge of this
verse, I will cry out with all my might : "O
God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make
haste to help me.' Again, when I have been
restored by the Lord's consolation, and, cheered
by His coming, feel myself encompassed as if
by countless thousands of angels, so that all of
a sudden I can venture to seek the conflict and
provoke a battle with those whom a while ago
I dreaded worse than death, and whose touch
or even approach I felt wdth a shudder both of
mind and body: In order that the vigour of this
courage may, by God's grace, continue in me
still longer, I must cry out with all my powers :
" O God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make
haste to help me." We must then ceaselessly
and continuously pour forth the prayer of this
verse, in adversity that we may be delivered,
in prosperity that we may be preserved and
not puffed up. Let the thought of this verse,
I tell you, be conned over in your breast with-
out ceasing. Whatever work you are doing, or
office you are holding, or journey you are going,
do not cease to chant this. When you are
going to bed, or eating, and in the last necessi-
ties of nature, think on this. This thought in
your heart may be to you a saving formula, and
not only keep you unharmed by all attacks of
devils, but also purify you from all faults and
earthly stains, and lead you to that invisible
and celestial contemplation, and carry you on
to that ineft'able glow of prayer, of which so
few have any experience. Let sleep come upon

you still considering this verse, till having been
moulded by the constant use of it, you grow
accustomed to repeat it even in your sleep.
When you wake let it be the first thing to come
into your mind, let it anticipate all your waking
thoughts, let it when you rise from your bed
send you down on your knees, and thence send
you forth to all your work and business, and
let it follow you about all day long. This you
should think about, according to the Lawgiver's
charge, " at home and walking forth on a jour-
ney," ^ sleeping and waking. This you should
write on thfe threshold and door of your mouth,
this you should jjlace on the walls of your house
and in the recesses of your heart so that w^hen
you fall on your knees in prayer this may be
your chant as you kneel, and when you rise up
from it to go forth to all the necessary business
of life it may be your constant prayer as you
stand.

CHAPTER XL

Of the perfection of prayer to which we can rise by the system
described.

This, this is the formula which the mind
should unceasingly cling to until, strengthened
by the constant use of it and by continual
meditation, it casts off and rejects the rich
and full material of all manner of thoughts
and restricts itself to the poverty of this one
verse, and so arrives with ready ease at that
beatitude of the gospel, which holds the first
place among the other beatitudes : for He
says " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the kingdom of heaven." ^ And so one who
becomes grandly poor by a poverty of this
sort will fulfil this saying of the prophet :
" The poor and needy shall praise the name
of the Lord." ^ And indeed what greater or
holier poverty can there be than that of one
who knowing that he has no defence and no
strength of his own, asks for daily help from
another's bounty, and as he is aware that every
single moment his life and substance depend
on Divine assistance, professes himself not
without reason the Lord's bedesman, and cries
to Him daily in prayer : " But I am poor and
needy : the Lord helpeth me." * And so by
the illumination of God Himself he mounts to
that manifold knowledge of Him and begins
henceforward to be nourished on sublimer and
still more sacred mysteries, in accordance with
these words of the prophet : " The high hills
are a refuge for the stags, the rocks for the

' Deut. vi. 7.
2 S. Matt. V. 3.

^ Ps. Ixxiii. (Ixxiv.) 21.
4 Ps. xxxix (xl) 17 (LXX.).

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

hedgehogs," ^ which is very fairly applied in
the sense we have given, because whosoever
continues in simplicity and innocence is not
injurious or offensive to any one, but being con-
tent with his own simple condition endeavours
simply to defend himself from being spoiled
by his foes, and becomes a sort of spiritual
hedgehog and is protected by the continual
shield of that rock of the gospel, i.e., being
sheltered by the recollection of the Lord's pas-
sion and by ceaseless meditation on the verse
given above he escapes the snares of his op-
posing enemies. And of these spiritual hedge-
hogs we read in Proverbs as follows : " And
the hedgehogs are a feeble- folk, who have
made their homes in the rocks." ^ And indeed
what is feebler than a Christian, what is weaker
than a monk, who is not only not permitted
any vengeance for wrongs done to him but
is actually not allowed to suffer even a slight
and silent feeling of irritation to spring up
within? But whoever advances from this
condition and not only secures the simplicity
of innocence, but is also shielded by the vir-
tue of discretion, becomes an exterminator of
deadly serpents, and has Satan crushed beneath
his feet, and by his quickness of mind answers
to the figure of the reasonable stag, this man
will feed on the mountains of the prophets and
Apostles, i.e., on their highest and loftiest
mysteries. And thriving on this pasture con-
tinuallv, he will take in to himself all the
thoughts of the Psalms and will begin to sing
them in such a way that he will utter them
with the deepest emotion of heart not as if
they were the compositions of the Psalmist,
but rather as if they were his own utterances
and his very own prayer; and will certainly
take them as aimed at himself, and will recog-
nize that their words were not only fulfilled
formerly by or in the person of the prophet,
but that they are fulfilled and carried out daily
in his own case. For then the Holy Scriptures
lie open to us with greater clearness and as it
were their very veins and marrow are exposed,
when our experience not only perceives but
actually anticipates their meaning, and the
sense of the words is revealed to us not by an
exposition of them but by practical proof. For
if we have experience of the very state of mind
in which each Psalm was sung and written,
we become like their authors and anticipate
the meaning rather than follow it, i.e., gather-
ing the force of the words before we really
know them, we remember what has happened
to us, and what is happening in daily assaults
when the thoughts of them come over us, and
while we sing them we call to mind all that

1 Ps. ciii. (civ.) i8.

2 Prov. xxx. 26 (LXX.).

our carelessness has brought upon us, or our
earnestness has secured, or Divine Providence
has granted or the promptings of the foe have
deprived us of, or slippery and subtle forget-
fulness has carried off, or human weakness
has brought about, or thoughtless ignorance
has cheated us of. For all these feelings we
find expressed in the Psalms so that by seeing
whatever happens as in a very clear mirror we
understand it better, and so instructed by our
feelings as our teachers we lay hold of it as
something not merely heard but actually seen,
and, as if it were not committed to memory,
but implanted in the very nature of things,
we are affected from the very bottom of the
heart, so that we get at its meaning not by
reading the text but by experience anticipating
it. And so our mind will reach that incorrupt-
ible prayer to which in our former treatise, as
the Lord vouchsafed to grant, the scheme of
our Conference mounted, and this is not merely
not engaged in gazing on any image, but is
actually distinguished by the use of no words
or utterances ; but with the purpose of the mind
all on fire, is produced through ecstasy of
heart by some unaccountable keenness of spirit,
and the mind being thus affected without the
aid of the senses or any visible material pours
it forth to God with groanings and sighs that
cannot be uttered.

CHAPTER XII.

A question as to how spiritual tlioughts can be retained without
losing them,

Germanus : We think that yoU have de-
scribed to us not only the system of this spiritual
discipline for which we asked, but perfection
itself ; and this with great clearness and open-
ness. For what can be more perfect and sub-
lime than for the recollection of God to be
embraced in so brief a meditation, and for it,
dwelling on a single verse, to escape'from all
the limitations of things visible, and to com-
prise in one short word the thoughts of all our
prayers. And therefore we beg you to explain
to us one thing which still remains ; viz., how
we can keep firm hold of this verse which you
have given us as a formula, in such a way that,
as we'have been by God's grace set free from
the trifles of worldly thoughts, so we may also
keep a steady grasp on all spiritual ones,

CHAPTER XHL

On the lightness of thoughts.

For when the mind has taken in the meaning
of a passage in any Psalm, this insensibly slips

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.

409

away from it, and ignorantly and thoughtlessly
it passes on to a text of some other Scripture.
And when it has begun to consider this with
itself, while it is still not thorouglily explored,
the recollection of some other passage springs
up, and shuts out the consideration of the for-
mer subject. From this too it is transferred
to some other, by the entrance of some fresh
consideration, and the soul always turns about
from Psalm to Psalm and jumps from a pas-
sage in the Gospels to read one in the Epistles,
and from this passes on to the prophetic
writings, and thence is carried to some spiritual
history, and so it wanders about vaguely and
uncertainly through the whole body of the
Scriptures, unable, as it may choose, either to
reject or keep hold of anything, or to finish
anything by fully considering and examining
it, and so becomes only a toucher or taster of
spiritual meanings, not an author and possessor
of them. And so the mind, as it is always
light and wandering, is distracted even in time
of service by all sorts of things, as if it were
intoxicated, and does not perform any office
properly. jFor instance, while it is praying, it
is recalling some Psalm or passage of Scrip-
ture. While it is chanting, it is thinking about
something else besides what the text of the
Psalm itself contains. When it repeats a pas-
sage of Scripture, it is thinking about some-
thing that has to be done, or remembering
something that has been done. And in this way
it takes in and rejects nothing in a disciplined
and proper way, and seems to be driven about
by random incursions, without the power either
of retaining what it likes or lingering over it.
It is then well for us before everything else
to know how we can properly perform these
spiritual offices, and keep firm hold of this par-
ticular verse which you have given us as a for-
mula, so that the rise and fall of our feelings
may not be in a state of fluctuation from their
own lightness, but may lie under our own
control.

CHAPTER XIV.

The answer how we can gain stability of heart or of thoughts.

Isaac : Although, in our former discussion
on the character of prayer, enough was, as I

think, said on this subject, yet as you want it
repeated to you again, I will give you a brief
instruction on steadfastness of heart. There
are three things which make a shifting heart
steadfast, watchings, meditation, and prayer,
diligence in which and constant attention will
produce steadfast firmness of mind. Eut this
cannot be secured in any other way unless all
cares and anxieties of this present life have
been first got rid of by indefatigable persist-
ence in work dedicated not to covetousness but
to the sacred uses of the monastery, that we
may thus be able to fulfil the Apostle's com-
mand : " Pray without ceasing." ^ For he prays
too little, who is accustomed only to pray at the
times when he bends his knees. But he never
prays, who even while on his bended knees
is distracted by all kinds of wanderings of
heart. And therefore what we would be found
when at our prayers, that we ought to be before
the time of prayer._ For at the time of its
prayers the mind cannot help being affected by
its previous condition, and while it is praying,
will be either transported to things heavenly,
or dragged down to earthly things by those
thoughts in which it had been lingering before
prayer.

Thus far did Abbot Isaac carry on his Se-
cond Conference on the character of Prayer to
us astonished hearers ; whose instruction on
the consideration of that verse quoted above
(which he gave as a sort of outline for begin-
ners to hold) we greatly admired, and wished
to follow very closely, as we fancied that it
would be a short and easy method ; but we
have found it even harder to observe than that
system of ours by which we used formerly to
wander here and there in varied meditations
through the whole body of the Scriptures with-
out being tied by any chains of perseverance.
It is then certain that no one is kept away from
perfection of heart by not being able to read,
nor is rustic simplicity any hindrance to the
possession of purity .of heart and mind, which
lies close at hand for all, if only they will by
constant meditation on this verse keep the
thoughts of the mind safe and sound towards
God.

I Thess. V. 17.

THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES

OF JOHN CASSIAN.

PR EFACE.

Although many of the saints who are taught by your example can scarcely emulate the great-
ness of your perfection, with whicli you sliine like great luminaries with marvellous brightness
in this world, yet still you, O holy brothers Honoratus and Eucherius,^ are so stirred by the
great glory of those splendid men from whom we received the first principles of monasticism,
that one of you, presiding as he does over a large monastery of the brethren, is hoping that
his congregation, which learns a lesson from the daily sight of your saintly life, may be
instructed in the precepts of those fathers, while the other has been anxious to make his way
to Egypt to be edified by the sight of these in the flesh, that he might leave this province
that is frozen as it were with the cold of Gaul, and like some pure turtle dove fly to those
lands on which the sun of righteousness looks and to which it approaches nearest, and which
abound with the ripe fruits of virtues. As a matter of course the greatness of my love wrings
this from me ; viz., that considering the desire of the one and the labour of the other, I should
not decline the danger and peril of writing, if only to the one there may be added authority
among his children, and from the other may be removed the necessity for so risky a journey.
Further since neither the Institutes of the ccenobia which we wrote to the best of our ability
in twelve books for Bishop Castor of blessed memory, nor the ten Conferences of the fathers
living in the desert of Scete, which we composed somehow or other at the bidding of Saints
Helladius and Leontius the Bishops,'-^ were able to satisfy your faith and zeal, now in order
that the reason for our journey may be also known, I have thought that seven Conferences of
the three fathers whom we first saw living in another desert, might be written in the same
style and dedicated to you, in which whatever has been in our previous works perhaps
obscurely explained or even omitted on the subject of perfection, may be supplied. But if
even this is not enough to satisfy the holy thirst of your desires,. seven other Conferences,
which are to be sent to the holy brethren living in the islands of the Stcechades,^ will, I fancy,
satisfy your wants and your ardour.

1 On Honoratus and Eucherius, see the Introduction, p. i8g. ^ Cf The Preface to Conference I.

3 A group of islands off the coast of France opposite Marseilles; mentioned by Pliny, H. N. III. V., now known as Les Isles d'H teres.

THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES

OF JOHN CASSIAN.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^EREMON.

ON PERFECTION.

CHAPTER I.

Description of tlie town of Thennesus,

When we were living in a monastery in
Syria after our first infancy in the faith, and
when after we had grown somewhat we had
begun to long for some greater grace of per-
fection, we determined straightway to seek
Egypt and penetrating even to the remotest
desert of the Thebaid,^ to visit very many of
the saints, whose glory and fame had spread
abroad everywhere, with the wish if not to
emulate them at any rate to know them. And
so we came by a very lengthy voyage to a
town of Egypt named Thennesus," whose in-
habitants are so surrounded either by the sea
or by salt lakes that they devote themselves
to business alone and get their wealth and
substance by naval commerce as the land fails
them, so that indeed when they want to build
houses, there is no soil sufficient for this, unless
it is brought by boat from a distance.

CHAPTER n.

Of Bishop Archebius.

And when we arrived there, God gratified
our wishes, and had brought about the arrival
of that most blessed and excellent man Bishop

1 It is very doubtful whether Cassian ever carried out the inten-
tion, of which he here speaks, of visiting the Thebaid. So far as
we can trace the course of his wanderings, he does not seem to have
penetrated farther into Egypt than the desert of Scete.

2 Thennesus, a town at the Tanitic mouth of the Nile near Lake
Menzaleh. For the description of the neighbouring country com-
pare Conference VII. c. xxvi.

x\rchbius,^ who had been carried off from the
assembly of anchorites and given as Bishop
to the town of Panephysis,* and who kept all
his life long to his purpose of solitude with
such strictness that he relaxed nothing of the
character of his former humility, nor flattered
himself on the honour that had been added to
him ( for he vowed that he had not been sum-
moned to that office as fit for it, but complained
that he had been expelled from the monastic
system as unworthy of it because though he
had spent thirty-seven years in it he had never
been able to arrive at the purity so high a pro-
fession demands) ; he then when he had re-
ceived us kindly and most graciously in the
aforesaid Thennesus whither the business of
electing a Bishop there had brought him, as
soon as he heard of our wish and desire to
inquire of the holy fathers even in still more
remote parts of Eg}'pt : " Come," said he, " see
in the meanwhile the old men who live not far
from our monastery, the length of whose ser-
vice is shown by their bent bodies, as their
holiness shines forth in their appearance, so
that even the mere sight of them will give a
great lesson to those who see them : and from
them you can learn not so much by their
words as by the actual example of their holy
life, what I grieve that I have lost, and having
lost cannot give to you. But I think that my
poverty will be somewhat lessened by this zeal
of mine, if when you are seeking that pearl of
the Gospel which I have not, I at least provide
where you can conveniently procure it.'

^ Archebius has already been mentioned in Conference VII. xxvi. ;
and in the Institutes V. xxxvii., xxxviii., two stories are told illustra-
tive of his kindness and goodness of disposition ; but he is not
known to us from any other source except Cassian's writings.

■4 For the situation of Panephysis, see the note on the Institutes,
Book IV. c. XXX.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER III.

Description of the desert wliere Cheeremon, Nesteros, and
Joseph lived.

And so he took his staff and scrip, as is
there the custom for all monks starting on a
journey, and himself led us as guide of our
road to his own city, i.e., Panephysis, the lands
of which and indeed the greater part of the
neighbouring region (formerly an extremely
rich one since from it, as report says, every-
thing was supplied for the royal table), had
been covered by the sea which was disturbed
by a sudden earthquake and overflowed its
banks, and so (almost all the villages being in
ruins) covered what were formerly rich lands
with salt marshes, so that you might think that
what is spiritually sung in the psalm was a
literal prophecy of that region. " He hath
turned rivers into a wilderness ; and the springs
of waters into a thirsty land : a fruitful land
into saltness for the wickedness of them that
dwell therein." ^ In these districts then many
towns perched in this way on the higher hills
were deserted by their inhabitants and turned
by the inundation into islands, and these
afforded the desired solitude to the holy an-
chorites, among whom three old men; viz.,
Chceremon, Nesteros and Joseph, stood out
as anchorites of the longest standing.

CHAPTER IV.

Of Abbot Chxremon and his excuse about tlie teaching which
we asked for.

And so the blessed Archebius thought it best
to take us first to Chaeremon,- because he was
nearer to his monastery, and because he was
more advanced than the other two in age : for
he had passed the hundredth year of his life,
vigorous only in spirit, but with his back
bowed with age and constant prayer, so that,
as if he were once more in his childhood he
crawled with his hands hanging down and rest-
ing on the ground. Gazing then at one and
the same time on this man's wonderful face
and on his walk (for though all his limbs had
already failed and were dead yet he had lost
none of the severity of his previous strictness)
when we humbly asked for the word and doc-
trine, and declared that longing for spiritual
instruction was the only reason for our coming,
he sighed deeply and said : What doctrine can
I teach you, I in whom the feebleness of age
has relaxed my former strictness, as it has also

• Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 33 sg.

- Chjeremon is perhaps the same person of wlmm a short account
is given in the Lausi.ic History of Palladius, c. xcii.

destroyed my confidence in speaking ? For
how could I presume to teach what I do not
do, or instruct another in what I know I now
practise but feebly and coldly ? Wherefore I
do not allow any of the younger men to live
with me now that I am of such an advanced
age, lest the other's strictness should be re-
laxed owing to my example. For the author-
ity of a teacher will never be strong unless he
fixes it in the heart of his hearer by the actual
performance of his duty.

CHAPTER V.

Of our answer to his excuse.

At this we were overwhelmed with no slight
confusion and replied as follows : Although
both the difiiculty of the place and the solitary
life itself, which even a robust youth could
scarcely put up with, ought to be sufficient to
teach us everything (and indeed without your
saying anything they do teach and impress us
a very great deal) yet still we ask you to lay
aside your silence for a little and in a more
worthy manner implant in us those principles
by which we may be able to embrace, not so
much by imitating it as by admiring it, that
goodness which we see in you. For even if
our coldness is known to you, and does not ,
deserve to obtain what we are asking for, yet
at least the trouble of so long a journey ought
to be repaid by it, as we made haste to come
here after our first beginning in the monastery
of Bethlehem, owing to a longing for your in-
struction, and a yearning for our own good.

CHAPTER VI.

Abbot Chseremon's statement that faults can be overcome in
three ways.

Then the blessed Ch/eremon: There are,
said he, three things which enable men to
control their faults ; viz., either the fear of hell
or of laws even now imposed ; or the hope and
desire of the kingdom of heaven ; or a liking
for goodness itself and the love of virtue.
For then we read that the fear of evil loathes
contamination : " The fear of the Lord hateth
evil." * Hope also shuts out the assaults of all
faults : for " all who hope in Him shall not
fail." * Love also fears no destruction from
sins, for. "love never faileth ; " '' and again:
" love covers a multitude of sins." ^ And there-
fore the blessed Apostle confines the whole

^ Prov. viii. 13.

* Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.)23.

'' I Cor. xiii.
« I Pet. iv. 8.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^EREMON.

417

sum of salvation in the attainment of those
three virtues, saying " Now abideth faith, hope,
love, these three." ^ For faith is what makes
us shun the stains of sin from fear of future
judgment and punishment ; hope is what with-
draws our mind from present things, and
despises all bodily pleasures from its expecta-
tion of heavenly rewards ; love is what in-
flames us with keenness of heart for the love of
Christ and the fruit of spiritual goodness, and
makes us hate with a perfect hatred whatever
is opposed to these. And thesa three things
although they all seem to aim at one and the
same end (for they incite us to abstain from
things unlawful) yet they differ from each
other greatly in the degrees of their excellence.
For the two former belong properly to those
men who in their aim at goodness have not
yet acquired the love of virtue, and the third
belongs specially to God and to those who
have received into themselves the image and
likeness of God. For He alone does the
things that are good, with no fear and no
thanks or reward to stir Him up, but simply
from the love of goodness. For, as Solomon
says, "The Lord hath made all things for Him-
self." " For under cover of His own goodness
He bestows all the fulness of good things on
the worthy and the unworthy because He can-
not be wearied by wrongs, nor be moved by
passions at the sins of men, as He ever remains
perfect goodness and unchangeable in His
nature.

CHAPTER Vn.

By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love and what
permanence tliere is in it.

If then anyone is aiming at perfection, from
that first stage of fear which we rightly termed
servile (of which it is said : " When ye have
done all things say : we are unprofitable ser-
vants," ^) he should by advancing a step mount
to the higher path of hope — which is com-
pared not to a slave but to a hireling, because
it looks for the payment of its recompense,
and as if it were free from care concerning
absolution of its sins and fear of punishment,
and conscious of its own good works, though
it seems to look for the promised reward, yet it
cannot attain to that love of a son who, trust-
ing in his father's kindness and liberality, has
no doubt that all that the father has is his, to
which also that prodigal who together with
his father's substance had lost the very name
of son, did not venture to aspire, when he
said : "I am no more worthy to be called thy

son ; " for after those husks which the swine
ate, satisfaction from which was denied to him,
i. e., the disgusting food of sin, as he "came to
himself,"' and was overcome by a salutary fear,
he already began to loathe the uncleanness of
the swine, and to dread the punishment of
gnawing hunger, and as if he had already been
made a servant, desires the condition of a hire-
ling and thinks about the remuneration, and
says : " How many hired servants of my father
have abundance of bread, and I perish here with
hunger. I will then return to my father and
I will say unto him, ' Father I have sinned against
I heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy
! to be called thy son : make me as one of
I thy hired servants.' " * But those words of
humble penitence his father who ran to meet
j him received with greater affection than that
with which they were spoken, and was not con-
tent to allow him lesser things, but passing
: through the two stages without delay restored
j him to his former dignity of sonship. We also
ought forthwith to hasten on that by means of
the indissoluble grace of love we may mount
to that third stage of sonship, which believes
that all that the father has is its own, and so
we may be counted worthy to receive the
image and likeness of our heavenly Father,
and be able to say after the likeness of the
true son : "All that the Father hath is mine." ^
Which also the blessed Apostle declares of us,
saying : " All things are yours, whether Paul
or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life, or
death, or things present, or things to come ; all
are )^ours."® And to this likeness the com-
mands of our Saviour also summon us : " Be
ye," says He, "perfect, even as your Father
in heaven is perfect."'^ For in these persons
sometimes the love of goodness is found to be
interrupted, when the vigour of the soul is
relaxed by some coldness or joy or delight,
and so loses either the fear of hell for the
time, or the desire of future blessings. And
there is indeed in these a stage leading to
some advance, which affects us so that when
from fear of punishment or from hope of re-
ward we begin to avoid sin we are enabled to
pass on to the stage of love, for "fear," says
one, " is not in love, but perfect love casteth
out fear : for fear hath torment, but he who
fears is not perfect in love. We therefore love
because God first loved us." ^ We can then
only ascend to that true perfection when, as
He first loved us for the grace of nothing
but our salvation, we also have loved Him for
the sake of nothing but His own love alone.
Wherefore we must do our best to mount with

' I Cor. xiii.

2 Prov. xvi. 4.

2 S. Luke xvii. 10.

* S. Luke XV. 17-ig.
^ S. John xvi. 15

I Cor. iii. 22.
St. Matt V. 48.

6 I John iv. iS, 19.

4i8

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

perfect ardour of mind from this fear to hope,
from hope to the love of God, and the love of
the virtues themselves, that as we steadily pass
on to the love of goodness itself, we may, as
far as it is possible for human nature, keep
firm hold of what is good.

CHAPTER VIII.

How greatly those excel who depart from sin through the
feeling cf love.

For there is a great difference between one
who puts out the fire of sin within him by fear
of hell or hope of future reward, and one who
from the feeling of divine love has a horror of
sin itself and of uncleanness, and keeps hold
of the virtue of purity simply from the love and
longing for purity, and looks for no reward
from a promise for the future, but, delighted
with the knowledge of good things present,
does everything not from regard to punish-
ment but from delight in virtue. For this
condition can neither abuse an opportunity to
sin when all human witnesses are absent, nor
be corrupted by the secret allurements of
thoughts, while, keeping in its very marrow
the love of virtue itself, it not only does not
admit into the heart anything that is opposed
to it, but actually hates it with the utmost
horror. For it is one thing for a man in
his delight at some present good to hate the
stains of sins and of the flesh, and another
thing to check unlawful desires by contemplat-
ing the future reward ; and it is one thing to
fear present loss and another to dread future
punishment. Lastly it is a much greater thing
to be unwilling to forsake good for good's own
sake, than it is to withhold consent from evil
for fear of evil. For in the former case the
good is voluntary, but in the latter it is con-
strained and as it were violently forced out of
a reluctant party either by fear of punishment
or by greed of reward. For one who abstains
from the allurements of sin owing to fear,
will whenever the obstacle of fear is removed,
once more return to what he loves and thus will
not continually acquire any stability in good,
nor will he ever rest free from attacks because
he will not secure the sure and lasting peace
of chastity. For where there is the disturb-
ance of warfare there cannot help being the
danger of wounds. For one who is in the
midst of the conflict, even though he is a war-
rior and by fighting bravely inflicts frequent
and deadly wounds on his foes, must still
sometimes be pierced by the point of the
enemy's sword. But one who has defeated
the attack of sins and is now in the enjoyment

of the security of peace, and has passed on
to the love of virtue itself, will keep this con-
dition of good continually, as he is entirely
wrapped up in it, because he believes that
nothing can be worse than the loss of his in-
most chastity. For he deems nothing dearer
or more precious than present purity, to whom
a dangerous departure from virtue or a poison-
ous stain of sin is a grievous punishment. To
such an one, I say, neither will regard for the
presence of another add anything to his good-
ness nor will solitude take anything away
from it : but as always and everywhere he bears
about with him his conscience as a judge
not only of his actions but also of his thoughts,
he will especially try to please it, as he knows
that it cannot be cheated nor deceived, and
that he cannot escape it.

CHAPTER IX.

That love not only makes sons out of servants, but also bestows
the image and likeness of God.

And if to anyone relying on the help of God
and not on his own efforts, it has been vouch-
safed to acquire this state, from the condition
of a servant, wherein is fear, and from a mer-
cenary greed of hope, whereby there is sought
not so much the good of the donor as the re-
compense of reward, he will begin to pass on to
the adoption of sons, where there is no longer
fear, nor greed, but that love which never fail-
eth continually endures. Of which fear and
love the Lord in chiding some shows what
is befitting for each one : " A son knoweth his
own father, and a servant feareth his lord : And
if I be a Father, where is My honour : and if I
be a Lord, where is my fear ? " ^ For one who
is a servant must needs fear because "if know-
ing his lord's will he has done things worthy of
stripes, he shall be beaten with many stripes." ^
Whoever then by this love has attained the
image and likeness of God, will now delight in
goodness for the pleasure of goodness itself,
and having somehow a like feeling of patience
and gentleness will henceforth be angered by
no faults of sinners, but in his compassion and
sympathy will rather ask for pardon for their
infirmities, and, remembering that for so long he
himself was tried by the stings of similar pas-
sions till by the Lord's mercy he was saved,
will feel that, as he was saved from carnal
attacks not by the teaching of his own exer-
tions but by God's protection, not anger but
pity ought to be shown to those who go astray ;
and with full peace of mind will he sing to God

1 Mai i. 6.

S. Luke xii. 47.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON.

419

the following verse : " Thou hast broken my
chains. 1 will offer to Thee the sacrifice of
praise ; " and : " except the Lord had helped me,
my soul had almost dwelt in hell." ^ And while
he continues in this humility of mind he will be
able even to fulfil this Evangelic command of
perfection : " Love your enemies, do good to
them that hate you, and pray for them that
persecute you and slander you." " And so it
will be vouchsafed to us to attain that reward
which is subjoined, whereby we shall not only
bear the image and likeness of God, but shall
even be called sons : " that ye may be," says
He, " sons of your Father which is in heaven,
Who maketh His sun to rise on the good and
evil, and sends rain on the just and on the vm-
just : " ^ and this feeling the blessed John knew
that he had attained when he said : " that we
may have confidence in the day of judgment,
because as He is so are we also in this world." ^
For in what can a weak and fragile human
nature be like Him, except in always showing
a calm love in its heart towards the good and
evil, the just and the unjust, in imitation of
God, and by doing good for the love of good-
ness itself, arriving at that true adoption of the
sons of God, of which also the blessed Apostle
speaks as follows : " Every one that is born of
God doeth not sin, for His seed is in him, and
he cannot sin, because he is born of God; " and
again : " We know that every one who is born
of God sinneth not, but his birth oi God pre-
serves him, and the wicked one toucheth him
not ? " ^ And this must be understood not of
all kinds of sins, but only of mortal sins : and
if any one will not extricate and cleanse him-
self from these, for him the aforesaid Apostle
tells us in another place that we ought not even
to pray, saying : " If a man knows his brother
to be sinning a sin not unto death, let him ask,
and He will give him life for them that sin not
unto death. There is a sin unto death : I do
not say that he should ask for it." "^ But of those
which he says are not unto death, from which
even those who serve Christ faithfully can-
not, with whatever care they keep themselves,
be free, of these he says : " If we say that we
have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth
is not in us ; " and again : '' If we say that we
have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His
word is not in us." ''' For it is an impossibility
for any one of the saints not to fall into those
trivial faults which are committed by word, and
thought, and ignorance, and forgetfulness, and
necessity, and will, and surprise-: which though
quite different from that sin which is said to

^ Ps. cxv. 7, 8 (cxvi. 16, 17); xciii. (xciv.) 17. ^ lb. ver.
- S. Matt. V. 44. * I John iv. 17. ' i John i

^ lb. 45. ^ I John iii. 9; v. 18.

:6.

be unto death, still cannot be free from fault
and blame.

CHAPTER X.

How it is the perfection of love to pray for one's enemies and by
what signs we may recognize amine! that is not yet purified.

When then any one has acquired this love of
goodness of which we have been speaking, and
the imitation of God, then he will be endowed
with the Lord's heart of compassion, and will
pray also for his persecutors, saying in like
manner : " Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do." ^ But it is a clear sign of a
soul that is not yet thoroughly purged from the
dregs of sin, not to sorrow with a feeling of pity
at the offences of others, but to keep to the rigid
censure of the judge : for how will he be able
to obtain perfection of heart, who is without
that by which, as the Apostle has pointed out,
the full requireiflents of the law can be fulfilled,
saying : " Bear one another's burdens and so
fulfil the law of Christ," ^ and who has not that
virtue of love, which " is not grieved, is not
puffed up, thinketh no evil," which " endureth

all things, beareth all things

" 10

For " a right-

eous man pitieth the life of his beasts : but the
heart of the ungodly is without pity." ^^ And so
a monk is quite certain to fall into the same
sins which he condemns in another with merci-
less and inhuman severity, for " a stern king
will fall into misfortunes," and " one who stops
his ears so as not to hear the weak, shall him-
self cry, and there shall be none to hear him." ^^

CHAPTER XL

A question why he has called the feeling of fear and hope
imperfect.

Germanus : You have indeed spoken power-
fully and grandly of the perfect love of God.
But still this fact disturbs us ; viz., that while
you were exalting it with such pi'alse, you said
that the fear of God and the hope of eternal
reward were imperfect, though the prophet
seems to have thought quite differently about
them, where he said : " Fear the Lord, all ye
His saints, for they that fear Him lack no-
thing." ^^ And again in the matter of observing
God's righteous acts he admits that he has
done them from consideration of the reward,
saying : " I have inclined my heart to do thy
righteous acts forever, for the reward."^* And
the Apostle says : " By faith Moses when he

' S. Luke xxiii. 34.

'•- Gal. vi. 2.
'" I Cor. xiii. 4-7.
1' Prov. xii. ID (LXX.).

'- Prov. xiii. 17; xxi. 13.
" Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 10
'^ Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 112.

420

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

was grown up, denied himself to be the son of
Pharaoh's daughter ; choosing rather to be
afflicted with the people of God than to have
the pleasure of sin for a season, esteeming
the reproach of Christ greater riches than the
treasure of the Egyptians ; for he looked unto
the reward." ^ How then can we think that they
are imperfect, if the blessed David boasted
that he did the righteous acts of God in hope
of a recompense, and the giver of the Law is
said to have looked for a future reward and so
to have despised the adoption to royal dignity,
and to have preferred the most terrible afflic-
tion to the treasures of the Egyptians ?

CHAPTER XII.

The answer on the different kinds of perfection.

CHiEREMON : In accordance with the condi-
tion and measure of every mmd Holy Scrip-
ture summons our free wills to different grades
of perfection. For no uniform crown of per-
fection can be offered to all men, because all
have not the same virtue, or purpose, or fer-
vour, and so the Divine Word has in some way
appointed different ranks and different mea-
sures of perfection itself. And that this is so
the variety of beatitudes in the gospel clearly
shows. For though they are called blessed,
whose is the kingdom of heaven, and blessed
are they who shall possess the earth, and
blessed are they who shall receive their con-
solation, and blessed are they who shall be
filled, yet we believe that there is a great dif-
ference between the habitations of the king-
dom of heaven, and the possession of the
earth, whatever it be, and also between the
reception of consolation and the fulness and
satisfaction of righteousness ; and that there
is a great distinction between those who shall
obtain mercy, and those who shall be deemed
worthy to enjoy the most glorious vision of
God. " For there is one glory of the sun, and
another glory of the moon, and another glory
of the stars : for star differeth from star in
glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead." ^
While therefore in accordance with this rule
holy Scripture praises those who fear God, and
says " Blessed are all they that fear the Lord," ^
and promises them for this a full measure of
bliss, yet it says again : " There is no fear in
love, but perfect love casteth out fear : for
fear hath torment. But he that feareth is not
yet perfect in love." * And again, though it is
a grand thing to serve God, and it is said :

1 Heb. xi. 24-26.
* I Cor. XV. 41, 42.

3 Ps. cxxvii. (cxxviii.) i.
* I John iv. 18.

^ " Serve the Lord in fear ; " and : " It is a great
; thing for thee to be called My servant ; " and :
j " Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when
I He cometh, shall find so doing," ^ yet it is said
to the Apostles : " I no longer call you ser-
vants, for the servant knoweth not what his
Lord doeth : but I call you friends, for all
things whatsoever I have heard from my
Father, I have made known unto you." ^ And
j once more : " Ye are My friends, if ye do what-
ever I command you." ' You see then that
' there are different stages of perfection, and
that we are called by the Lord from high things
to still higher in such a way that he who has
become blessed and perfect in the fear of God,
going as it is written "from strength to strength,"'*
and from one perfection to another, i.e., mount-
ing with keenness of soul from fear to hope,
is summoned in the end to that still more
blessed stage, which is love, and he who has
been " a faithful and wise servant " ® will pass
to the companionship of friendship and to the
adoption of sons. So then our saying also
must be understood according to this mean-
ing : not that we say that the consideration of
that enduring punishment or of that blessed
recompense which is promised to the saints is
of no value, but because, though they are use-
ful and introduce those who pursue them to
the first beginning of blessedness, yet again
love, wherein is already fuller confidence,
and a lasting joy, will remove them from
servile fear and mercenary hope to the love of
God, and carry them on to the adoption of
sons, and somehow make them from being
perfect still more perfect. For the Saviour
says that in His Father's house are '' many
mansions," ^° and although all the stars seem to
be in the sky, yet there is a mighty difference
between the brightness of the sun and of the
moon, and between that of the morning star
and the rest of the stars. And therefore the
blessed Apostle prefers it not only above fear
and hope but also above all gifts which are
counted great and wonderful, and shows the
way of love still more excellent than all. For
when after finishing his list of spiritual gifts
of virtues he wanted to describe its members,
he began as follows: "And yet I show unto
you a still more excellent way. Though I
speak with the tongues of men and angels, and
though I have the gift of prophecy and know
all mysteries and all knowledge, and though
1 have all faith so that I can remove moun-
tains, and though I bestow all my goods to
feed the poor, and give my body to be burned,

'' Ps. ii. II ; Is. xHx. 6 ; S. Matt. xxiv. 46. 8 Ps. Ixxxiii. (Ixxxiv.) 8.
•■■ S. John XV. 14, 15. " S. Matt. xxiv. 45.

' S. John XV. 13. " S. John xiv. 2.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHyEREMON.

421

but have not love, it profiteth me nothing."
You see tlien that nothing more precious, notli-
ing more perfect, nothing more sublime, and,
if I may say so, nothing more enduring can
be found than love. For '"whether there be
prophecies, they shall fail, whether there be
tongues, they shall cease, whether there
be knowledge, it shall be destroyed," but "love
never faileth,"^ and without it not only those
most excellent kinds of gifts, but even the
glory of martyrdom itself will fail.

CHAPTER XIII.

Of the fear which is the outcome of the greatest love.

Whoever then has been established in this
perfect love is sure to mount by a higher stage
to that still more sublime fear belonging to
love, which is the outcome of no dread of
punishment or greed of reward, but of the
greatest love ; whereby a son fears with ear-
nest affection a most indulgent father, or a
brother fears his brother, a friend his friend,
or a wife her husband, while there is no dread
of his blows or reproaches, but only of a slight
injury to his love, and while in every word as
well as act there is ever care taken by anxious :
affection lest the warmth of his love should
cool in the very slightest degree towards the
object of it. And one of the prophets has
finely described the grandeur of this fear,
saying : " Wisdom and knowledge are the
riches of salvation : the fear of the Lord is his
treasure." ^ He could not describe with greater
clearness the worth and value of that fear than
by saying that the riches of our salvation,
which consist in true wisdom and knowledge
of God, can only be preserved by the fear of
the Lord. To this fear then not sinners but
saints are invited by the prophetic word where
the Psalmist says : " O fear the Lord, all ye His

Saints: for they that fear Him lack nothing."
For where a man fears the Lord with this fear,
it is certain that nothing is lacking to his per-
fection. For it was clearly of that other penal
fear that the Apostle John said that " He who
feareth is not made perfect in love, for fear
hath punishment." * There is then a great
difference between this fear, to which nothing is
lacking, which is the treasure of wisdom and
knowledge, and that imperfect fear which is
called "the beginning of wisdom," ^ and which
has in it punishment and so is expelled from
the hearts of those who are perfect by the in-
coming of the fulness of love. For " there is no

' I Cor. xii. 31 ; xiii. 1-8. ' Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 10. ^ Ps. ex. (cxi.) lo.
^ Is. xxxiii. 6. * I John iv. 18.

fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear."*^
And in truth if the beginning of wisdom con-
sists in fear, what will its perfection be except
in the love of Christ which, as it contains in
it the fear which belongs to perfect love, is
called not the beginning but the treasure of
wisdom and knowledge.? And therefore there
is a twofold stage of fear. The one for be-
ginners, i.e., for those who are still subject to
the yoke and to servile terror ; of which we
read: "And the servant shall fear his Lord ;"'
and in the gospel : " I no longer call you ser-
vants, for the servant, knoweth not what his
Lord doeth ; " and therefore " the servant,"
He tells us, " abideth not in the house for ever,
but the Son abideth for ever." ^ For He is
instructing us to pass on from that penal fear
to the fullest freedom of love, and the con-
fidence of the friends and sons of God. Finally
the blessed Apostle, who had by the power
of the Lord's love already passed through the
servile stage of fear, scorns lower things and
declares that he has been enriched with good
things by the Lord, "for God hath not given
us," he says, "a spirit of fear, but of power and
of love and of a sound mind." ^ Those also
who are inflamed with a perfect love of their
heavenly Father, and whom the Divine adop-
tion has already made sons instead of servants,
he addresses in these words : " For ye have not
received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but
ye received the spirit of adoption, whereby we
cry, Abba, Father." ^° It is of this fear too, that
the prophet spoke when he would describe that
sevenfold spirit, which according to the mys-
tery of the Incarnation, full surely descended
on the God man : " " And there shall rest
upon Him the Spirit of the Lord: the Spirit*
of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of
counsel and of might, the Spirit of knowledge
and of true godliness," and in the last place
he adds as something special these words :
" And the Spirit of the fear of the Lord shall
fill Him." ^- Where we must in the first place
notice carefully that he does not say " and
f/iere shall rest upon Him the Spirit of fear," as
he said in the earlier cases, but he says " there
shall fill Him the Spirit of the fear of the
Lord." For such is the greatness of its rich-
ness that when once it has seized on a man
by its power, it takes possession not of a
portion but of his whole mind. And not with-
out good reason. For as it is closely joined
to that love which " never faileth," it not only
fills the man, but takes a lasting and inseparable

*> I John iv. iS.

■ Mal.i. e/LXX.).
'" Rom. viii. 15.
'^ Homo Dominicus.
1^ Is. xi. 2, 3.

8 S. John XV. 15; viii.
' 2 Tim. i. 7.

35-

See the note on Against Nestorius, V. v.

422

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

and continual possession of him in whom it
has begun, and is not lessened by any allure-
ments of temporal joy or delights, as is some-
times the case with that fear which is cast out.
This then is the fear belonging to perfection,
with which we are told that the God-man,-^ who
came not only to redeem mankind, but also to
give us a pattern of perfection and example of
goodness, was filled. For the true Son of God
" who did no sin neither was guile found in His
mouth," ^ could not feel that servile fear of
punishment.

CHAPTER XIV.

A question about complete chastity.

Germanus : Now that you have finished
your discourse on perfect chastity, we want
also to ask somewhat more freely about the
end of chastity. For we do not doubt that
those lofty heights of love, by which, as you
have hitherto explained, we mount to the im-
age and likeness of God, cannot possibly exist
without perfect purity. But we should like to
know whether a lasting grant of it can be se-
cured so that no incitement to lust may ever

disturb the serenity of our heart, and that thus
we may be enabled to pass the time of our
sojourneying in the flesh free from this carnal
passion, so as never to be inflamed by the fire
of excitement.

CHAPTER XV.

The postponement of the explanation which is asked for.

Ch/eremon : It is indeed a sign of the utmost
blessedness and of singular goodness both con-
tinually to learn and to teach that love by which
we cling to the Lord, so that meditation on
Him may, as the Psalmist says, occupy all the
days and nights of our life,^ and may support
our soul, which insatiably hungers and thirsts
after righteousness, by continually chewing the
cud of this heavenly food. But we must also,
in accordance with the kindly forethought of
our Saviour, make some provision for the food
of the body, that we faint not by the way,* for
" the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is
weak." ^ And this we must now secure by tak-
ing a little food, so that after supper, the mind
may be rendered more attentive for the careful
tracing out of what you want.

XII.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON.

6>A' CHASTITY.

Not translated. .

XIII.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON.

ON THE PROTECTION OF GOD.''

CHAPTER I.

Introduction.

When after a short sleep we returned for
morning service and were waiting for the old
man, Abbot Germanus was troubled by great

* Homo Dontinicrts.
^ I I'et. ii 22.

3 Cf. Ps. i. 2. ^ S. Matt. xxvi. 41.
« Cf. S. Matt. XV. 32.

scruples because in the previous discussion,
the force of which had inspired us with the
utmost longing for this chastity which was till
now unknown to us, the blessed old man had
by the addition of a single sentence broken
down the claims of man's exertions, adding
that man even though he strive with all his

6 On the Semi-Pelagianism of this Conference and the erroneous
passages from it extracted by Prosper, seethe Introduction, p. \<^o,sq.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON.

42.

might for a good result, yet cannot become
master of what is good unless he has acquired
it simply by the gift of Divine bounty and not
by the efforts of his own toil. While then we
were puzzling over this question the blessed
Chxremon arrived at the cell, and as he saw
that we were whispering together about some-
thing, he cut the service of prayers and Psalms
shorter than usual, and asked us what was the
matter.

CHAPTER II.

A question why the merit of good deeds may not be ascribed
to the exertions of the man who does them.

Then Germanus : As we are almost shut
out, so to speak, by the greatness of that splen-
did virtue, which was described in last night's
discussion, from believing in the possibility of
it, so, if you will pardon my saying so, it seems
to us absurd for the reward of our efforts, i.e.,
perfect chastity, which is gained by the earnest-
ness of one's own toil, not to be ascribed chiefly
to the exertions of the man who makes the
eft'ort. For it is foolish, if, when for example,
we see a husbandman taking the utmost pains
over the cultivation of the ground, we do not
ascribe the fruits to his exertions.

CHAPTER III.

The answer that without God"s help not only perfect chastity
but all good of every kind cannot be performed.

Ch^remon : By this very instance which
you bring forward we can still more clearly
prove that the exertions of the worker can do
nothing without God's aid. For neither can
the husbandman, when he has spent the ut-
most pains in cultivating the ground, forthwith
ascribe the produce of the crops and the rich
fruits to his own exertions, as he finds that
these are often in vain unless opportune rains
and a quiet and calm winter aids them, so
that we have often seen fruits already ripe
and set and thoroughly matured snatched as
it were from the hands of those who were
grasping them ; and their continuous and
earnest efforts were of no use to the workers
because they were not under the guidance of
the Lord's assistance. As then the Divine
goodness does not grant these rich crops to
idle husbandmen who do not till their fields
by frequent ploughing, so also toil all night
long is of no use to the workers unless the
mercy of the Lord prospers it. But herein
human pride should never try to put itself on
a level with the grace of God or to intermingle

itself with it, so as to fancy that its own efforts
were the cause of Divine bounty, or to boast
that a very plentiful crop of fruits was an
answer to the merits of its own exertions.
For a man should consider and with a most
careful scrutiny weigh the fact that he could
not by his own strength apply those very
efforts which he has earnestly used in his
desire for wealth, unless the Lord's protection
and pity had given him strength for the per-
formance of all agricultural labours ; and that
his own will and strength would have been
powerless unless Divine compassion had sup-
plied the means for the completion of them,
as they sometimes fail either from too much
or from too little rain. For when vigour has
been granted by the Lord to the oxen, and
bodily health and the power to do all the
work, and prosperity in undertakings, still a
man must pray lest there come to him, as
Scripture says, " a heaven of brass and an
earth of iron," and " the cankerworm eat what
the locust hath left, and the palmerwor.m
eat what the cankerworm hath left, and the
mildew destroys what the palmerworm hath
left." ^ Nor is it only in this that the efforts of
the husbandman in his work need God's help,
unless it also averts unlooked for accidents by
which, even when the field is rich with the
expected fruitful crops, not only is the man
deprived of what he has vainly hoped and
looked for, but actually loses the abundant
fruits which he has already gathered and
stored up in the threshing floor or in the barn.
From which we clearly infer that the initiative
not only of our actions but also of good
thoughts comes from God, who inspires us
with a good will to begin with, and supplies
us with the opportunity of carrying out what
we rightly desire : for " every good gift and
every perfect gift cometh down from above,
from the Father of lights," ^ who both begins
what is good, and continues it and completes it
in us, as the Apostle says : " But He who giveth
seed to the sower will both provide bread to
eat and will multiply your seed and make the
fruits of your righteousness to increase." ^ But
if is for us, humbly to follow day by day the
grace of God which is drawing us, or else if
we resist with "a stiff neck," and (to use the
words of Scripture) " uncircumcised ears," ^ we
shall deserve to hear the words of Jeremiah :
" Shall he that falleth, not rise again ? and he
that is turned away, shall he not turn again }
Why then is this people in Jerusalem turned
away with a stubborn revolting ? They have
stiffened their necks and refused to return." *

1 Deut. xxviii. 23 ; Joel i. 4. '2 Cor. ix. 10. ^ jgr. viii. 4, 5.

2 S. James i. 17. * Acts vii. 51.

424

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER IV.

An objection, asking how the Gentiles can be said to have chas-
tity without the grace of God.

Germanus: To this explanation, the excel-
lence of which we cannot hastily disprove, it
seems a difficulty that it tends to destroy free
will. For as we see that many of the heathen
to whom the assistance of Divine grace has
certainly not been vouchsafed, are eminent not
only in the virtues of frugality and patience,
but (which is more remarkable) in that of chas-
tity, how can we think that the freedom of their
will is taken captive and that these virtues are
granted to them by God's gift, especially as in
following after the wisdom of this world, and in
their utter ignorance not only of God's grace
but even of the existence of the true God, as
we have known Him by the course of our read-
ing and the teaching of others — they are said
to have gained the most perfect purity of chas-
tity by their own efforts and exertions.

CHAPTER V.

The answer on the imaginary chastity of the philosophers.

Ch^remon : I am pleased that, though you
are fired with the greatest longing to know the
truth, yet you bring forward some foolish points,
as by your raising these objections the value
of the Catholic faith may seem better estab-
lished, and if I may use the expression, more
thoroughly explored. For what wise man would
make such contradictory statements as yes-
terday to maintain that the heavenly purity of
chastity could not possibly even by God's grace
be bestowed on any mortals, and now to hold
that it was obtained even by the heathen by
their own strength ? But as you have certainly,
as I said, made these objections from the de-
sire of getting at the truth, consider what we
hold on these points. First we certainly must
not think that the philosophers attained such
chastity of soul as is required of us, on whom it
is enjoined that not fornication only, but un-
cleanness be not so much as named among us.
But they had a sort of /'f«t'<'l, i.e., some parti-
cle of chastity; viz., continence of the flesh, by
which they could restrain their lust from carnal
intercourse : but this internal purity of mind and
continual purity of body they could not attain,
1 will not say, in act, but even in thought. Finally
Socrates, the most famous of them all, as they
themselves esteem him, was not ashamed to
profess this of himself. For when one who
judged a man's character by his looks (i/^i'tr/-
oyj'wf/ojv) looked at him, and said oufiaiu nuid

soacTTov, i.e., " the eyes of a corrupter of boys,"
and his scholars rushed at him, and brought
him to their master and wanted to avenge the
insult, it is said that he checked their indigna-
tion with these words : Txuvauod^^ ir argot • tiftl yug^
ETiiy^w di, i.e., Stop, my friends, for I am, but I
restrain myself. It is then quite clearly shown
not only by our assertions but actually by their
own admissions that it was only the perform-
ance of indecent acts, i.e., the disgrace of inter-
course, that was by force of necessity checked
by them, and that the desire and delight in this
passion was not shut out from their hearts.
But with what horror must one bring forward
this saying of Diogenes ? For a thing which
the philosophers of this world were not ashamed
to bring forward as something remarkable, can-
not be spoken or heard by us without shame :
for to one to be punished for the crime of adul-
tery they relate that he said to duigi-ui' nwlov-
fiFvov docfdra /nrj uyoguu, i.e., you should not buy
with your death what is sold for nothing.^ It is
clear then that they did not recognize the vir-
tue of the true chastity which we seek for, and
so it is quite certain that our circumcision which
is in the spirit cannot be acquired save only by
the gift of God, and that it belongs only to
those who serve God with full contrition of
their spirit.

CHAPTER VI.

That without the grace of God we cannot make any diligent

efforts.

And therefore though in many things, indeed
in everything, it can be shown that men always
have need of God's help, and that human weak-
ness cannot accomplish anything that has to do
with salvation by itself alone, i.e., without the aid
of God, yet in nothing is this more clearly shown
than in the acquisition and preservation of chas-
tity. For as the discussion on the difficulty of
its perfection is put off for so long, let us mean-
while discourse briefly on the instruments of
it. Who, I ask, could, however fervent he might
be in spirit, relying on his own strength with
no praise from men endure the squalor of the
desert, and I will not say the daily lack but
the supply of dry bread ? Who without the
Lord's consolation, could put up with the contin-
ual thirst for water, or deprive his human eyes
of that sweet and delicious morning sleep, and
regularly compress his whole time of rest and
repose into the limits of four hours ? Who
would be sufficient without God's grace to give
continual attendance to reading and constant
earnestness in work, receiving no advantage of

1 Tlie source of these stories of Socrates and Diogenes has not
been traced.

THE THIRD C0NFERF:NCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON.

425

present gain ? And all these matters, as we
cannot desire them continuously without divine
inspiration, so in no respect whatever can we per-
form them without His help. And that we may
ensure that these things are not only proved to
us by the teaching of experience, but also made
still clearer by sure proof and arguments, does ;
not some weakness intervene in the case of
many things which we wish usefully to perform,
and thoucfh the full keenness of our desire and
the perfection of our will be not wantmg, yet
interfere with the wish we have conceived, so
that there is no carrying out of our purpose,
unless the power to perform it has been granted
by the mercy of the Lord, so that, although
there are countless swarms of people who are
anxious to stick faithfully to the pursuit of vir-
tue, you can scarcely find any who are able
to carry it out and endure it, to say nothing :
of the fact that, even when no weakness at
all hinders us, the opportunity for doing every- '
thing that we wish does not lie in our own power.
For it is not in our power to secure the silence
of solitude and severe fasts and undisturbed
study even when we could use such opportuni-
ties, but by a chapter of accidents we are often
very much against our will kept away from the
salutary ordinances so that we have to pray to
the Lord for opportunities of place or time in
which to practise them. And it is clear that the i
ability for these is not sufficient for us unless
there be also granted to vis by the Lord an op-
portunity of doing what we are capable of (as
the Apostle also says : " For we wanted to come
to you once and again, but Satan hindered us " ^),
so that sometimes we find for our advantage
we are called away from these spiritual exer-
cises in order that while without our own con-
sent the regularity of our routine is broken and
we yield something to weakness of the flesh,
we may even against our will be brought to
a salutary patience. Of which providential
arrangement of God the blessed Apostle says
something similar : " For which I besought the
Lord thrice that it might depart from me. And
He said to me : My grace is sufficient for thee :
for my strength is made perfect in weakness : "
and again : " For we know not what to pray
for as we ought." ^

CHAPTER Vn.

Of the main purpose of God and His daily Providence.

For the purpose of God whereby He made
man not to perish but to live for ever, stands
immovable. And when His goodness sees in

' I Thess. ii. 18.

2 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9 ; Rom. viii. 26.

US even the very smallest spark of good will
shining forth, which He Himself has struck as
it were out of the hard flints of our hearts. He
fans and fosters it and nurses it with His
breath, as He " willeth all men to be saved and
to come to the knowledge of the truth," for as
He says, " it is not the will of your Father
which is in heaven that one of these little
ones should perish," and again it says :
" Neither will God have a soul to perish, but
recalleth," meaning that he that is cast off
should not altogether perish.^ For He is
true, and lieth not when He lays down
with an oath : "As I live, saith the Lord
God, for I will not the death of a sinner, but
that he should turn from his way and live." *
For if He willeth not that one of His little ones
should perish, how can we imagine without
grievous blasphemy that He does not generally
will aU men, but only some instead of all to be
saved "l Those then who perish, perish against
His will, as He testifies against each one of
them day by day : " Turn from your evil ways,
and why will ye die, O house of Israel ? " °
And again : " How often would I have gath-
ered thy children together as a hen gather-
eth her chickens under her wings, and ye
would not ; " and : " Wherefore is this people in
Jerusalem turned away with a stubborn revolt-
ing } They have hardened their faces and
refused to return." ^ The grace of Christ then
is at hand every day, which, while it "willeth
all men to be saved and to come to the know-
ledge of the truth," calleth all without any ex-
ception, saying : " Come unto Me, all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh
you." '^ But if He calls not all generally but
only some, it follows that not all are heavy
laden either with original or actual sin, and
that this saying is not a true one : " For all
have sinned and come short of the glory of
God ; " nor can we believe that " death passed
on all men." ^ And so far do all who perish,
perish against the will of God, that God can-
not be said to have made death, as Scripture
itself testifies : " For God made not death,
neither rejoiceth in the destruction of the
living." 3 And hence it comes that for the
most part when instead of good things we ask
for the opposite, our prayer is either heard
but tardily or not at all ; and again the Lord
vouchsafes to bring upon us even against our
will, like some most beneficent physician, for
our good what we think is opposed to it, and
sometimes He delays and hinders our injurious
purposes and deadly attempts from having their

3 I Tim. ii. 4; S. Matt, xviii. 14; 2 Sam. xiv. 14.

* Ezek. xxxiii. ii. '' S. Matt. xi. 28.

5 lb. * Rom. iii. 23; v. 12.

" S. Matt, xxiii. 37; Jer. viii. 5. " Wisdom i. 13.

426

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horrible effects, and, while we are rushing
headlong towards death, draws ' us back to
salvation, and rescues us without our know-
ing it from the jaws of hell.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the grace of God and tlie freedom of the will.

And this care of His and providence with
regard to us the Divine word has finely de-
scribed by the prophet Hosea under the figure
of Jerusalem as an harlot, and inclining with
disgraceful eagerness to the worship of idols,
where when she says : '' I will go after my
lovers, who give me my bread, and my water,
and my wool, and my flax, and my oil, and my
drink ; " the Divine consideration replies hav-
ing regard to her salvation and not to her
wishes : " Behold I will hedge up thy way with
thorns, and I will stop it up with a wall, and
she shall not find her paths. And she shall
follow after her lovers, and shall not overtake
them : and she shall seek them, and shall not
find them, and shall say : I will return to my
first husband, because it was better with me
then than now." ^ And again our obstinacy,
and scorn, with which we in our rebellious
spirit disdain Him when He urges us to a salu-
tary return, is described in the following
comparison : He says : " And I said thou shalt
call Me Father, and shalt not cease to walk
after Me. But as a woman that despiseth her
lover, so hath the house of Israel despised Me,
saith the Lord." ^ Aptly then, as He has com-
pared Jerusalem to an adulteress forsaking
her husband, He compares His own love and
persevering goodness to a man who is dying
of love for a woman. For the goodness and
love of God, which He ever shows to mankind,
— since it is overcome by no injuries so as
to cease from caring for our salvation, or be
driven from His first intention, as if vanquished
by our iniquities, — could not be more fitly
described by any comparison than the case
of a man inflamed with most ardent love for
a woman, who is consumed by a more burning
passion for her, the more he sees that he is
slighted and despised by her. The Divine
protection then is inseparably present with
us, and so great is the kindness of the Creator
towards His creatures, that His Providence
not only accompanies it, but actually con-
stantly precedes it, as the prophet expe-
rienced and plainly confessed, saying : " My
God will prevent me with His mercy." ^ And
when He sees in us some beginnings of a good

> Hosea ii. 5-7. = Jer. iii. ig, 20. 3 Ps. Iviii. (lix.) 11.

will, He at once enlightens it and strengthens
it and urges it on towards salvation, increasing
that which He Himself implanted or which
He sees to have arisen from our own efforts.
For He says " Before they cry, I will hear them :
While they are still speaking I will hear them ; "
and again : " As soon as He hears the voice of
thy crying, He will answer thee." * And in
His goodness, not only does He inspire us
with holy desires, but actually creates occa-
sions for life and opportunities for good results,
and shows to those in error the direction of
the way of salvation.

CHAPTER IX.

Of the power of our good will, and the grace of God.

Whence human reason cannot easily decide
how the Lord gives to those that ask, is found
by those that seek, and opens to those that
knock, and on the other hand is found by
those that sought Him not, appears openly
among those who asked not for Him, and all
the day long stretches forth His hands to an
unbelieving and gainsaying people, calls those
who resist and stand afar off, draws men
against their will to salvation, takes away from
those who want to sin the faculty of carrying
out their desire, in His goodness stands in the
way of those who are rushing into wickedness.
But who can easily see how it is that the com-
pletion of our salvation is assigned to our own
will, of which it is said: " If ye be willing, and
hearken unto Me, ye shall eat the good things
of the land," '^ and how it is " not of him that
willeth or runneth, but of God that hath
mercy?" ^ What too is this, that God "will
render to every man according to his works ; " "^
and " it is God who worketh in you both to will
and to do, of His good pleasure ;" ^ and " this
is not of yourselves but it is the gift of God : not
of works, that no man may boast ? " '•* \\'hat is
this too which is said : " Draw near to the Lord,
and He will draw near to you,"^*' and what He
says elsewhere : " No man cometh unto Me ex-
cept the Father who sent Me draw Him ? " "
What is it that we find : " Make straight paths
for your feet and direct your ways," ■*'- and what
is it that -we say in our prayers : " Direct my way
in Thy sight," and " establish my goings in Thy
paths, that my footsteps be not moved ? " ^^
What is it again that we are admonished:
" Make you a new heart and a new spirit," ^^ and
what is this which is promised to us : " I will

4 Is. Ixv 24 ; XXX. 19. « Pliil. ii. 13. 12 pmv. iv. 26 fLXX.).

f' Is. i. It). 9 Epli. ii. 8, g. '^ Ps. v. g; xvi. (xvii.) 5.

" Rom. ix. 16. '" S. James iv. 8. '■• Ezek. xviii 31.

' Rom. ii. 6. " S. John vi. 44.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON.

427

give them one heart and will put a new spirit
within them : " and " I will take away the stony
heart from their flesh and will give them an
heart of flesh that they may walk in Thy
statutes and keep My judgments ? " ^ What
is it that the Lord commands, where He says :
" Wash thine heart of iniquity, O Jerusalem,
that thou mayest be saved," " and what is it
that the prophet asks for from the Lord, when
he says " Create in me a clean heart, O God,"
and again : " Thou shalt wash me, and I shall
be whiter than snow ? " ^ What is it that is
said to us : " Enlighten yourselves with the
light of knowledge ; " * and this which is said of
God : " Wlio teacheth man knowledge ; " ^ and :
" the Lord enlightens the blind," ^ or at any
rate this, which we say in our prayers with the
prophet : " Lighten mine eyes that I sleep not
in death,"'' unless in all these there is a
declaration of the grace of God and the free-
dom of our will, because even of his own
motion a man can be led to the quest of virtue,
but always stands in need of the help of the
Lord ? For neither does anyone enjoy good
health whenever he will, nor is he at his own will
and pleasure set free from disease and sickness.
But what good is it to have desired the bless-
ing of health, unless God, who grants us the
enjoyments of life itself, grant also vigorous
and sound health ? But that it may be still
clearer that through the excellence of nature
which is granted by the goodness of the
Creator, sometimes the first beginnings of a
good will arise, which however cannot attain
to the complete performance of what is good
unless it is guided by the Lord, the Apostle
bears witness and says : " For to will is present
with me, but to perform what is good I find
not." «

CHAPTER X.

On the weakness of free will.

For Holy Scripture supports the freedom of
the will where it says : " Keep thy heart with
all diligence," ^ but the Apostle indicates its,
weakness by saying " The Lord keep your !
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." ^" David
asserts the power of free will, where he says
" I have inclined my heart to do Thy righteous
acts," ^^ but the same man in like manner
teaches us its weakness, by praying and say-
ing, " Incline my heart unto Thy testimonies
and not to covetousness : " ^^ Solomon also :
" The Lord incline our hearts unto Himself

' Ezek. i, 19, 20. •'■ Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 10. " Prov. iv. 23.

- Jer. iv. 14. •" Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.)8. ^° Phil. iv. 7.

^ Ps. 1. (li.) 12, q. ' Ps. xii. (xiii.) 4. ^^ Fs. cxviii. (cxix.) 112.

♦ Hos. X. 12 (LXX.). 8 Rom. vii. i8. " 16. ver 36.

receive

given him from above." '^^

that we may walk in all His ways and keep
His commandments, and ordinances and judg-
ments." ^'^ The Psalmist denotes the power of
our will, where he says : " Keep thy tongue
from evil, and thy lips that they speak no
guile," " our prayer testifies to its weakness,
when we say : " O Lord, set a watch before
my mouth, and keep the door of my lips." ^^
The importance of our will is maintained by
the Lord, when we find " Break the chains of
thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion : " ^° of its
weakness the prophet sings, when he says :
" The Lord looseth them that are bound : " and
" Thou hast broken my chains : To Thee will I
offer the sacrifice of praise." " We hear in the
gospel the Lord summoning us to come speed-
ily to Him by our free will : "■ Come unto Me
all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I
will refresh you," ^^ but the same Lord testifies
to its weakness, by saying : " No man can
come unto Me e.\cept the Father which sent
Me draw him." ^'-^ The Apostle indicates our
j free will by saying : " So run that ye may ob-
; tain : " '-^^ but to its weakness John Baptist
bears witness where he says : " No man can
anything of himself, except it be
We are commanded
to keep our souls with all care, when the
Prophet says : " Keep your souls," ^^ but by the
same spirit another Prophet proclaims : " Ex-
cept the Lord keep the city, the watchman
waketh but in vain." ^^ The Apostle writing
to the Philippians, to show that their will is
free, says " Work out your own salvation with
fear and trembling," but to point out its weak-
ness, he adds : " For it is God that worketh
in you both to will and to do of Flis good
pleasure." ^*

CHAPTER XL

Whether the grace of God precedes or follows our good will.

And so these are somehow mixed up and in-
discriminately confused, so that among many
persons, which depends on the other is involved
in great questionings, i.e., does God have com-
passion upon us because we have shown the
beginning of a good will, or does the begin-
ning of a good will follow because God has
had compassion upon us ? For many believing
each of these and asserting them more widely
than is right are entangled in all kinds of op-
posite errors. For if we say that the begin-
ning of free will is in our own power, what

If S. John vi. 44.
2" ' Cor. ■

13 I Kings viii. 58.

'^ Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 14. ■■"' i Cor. ix. 24.

i' Ps. cxl. (cxli.) 3. 2' S. John iii. 27.

"' Is. Hi. 2. -- Jer. xvii. 21.

'' Ps. cxlv(cxlvi.) 7; cxv.(cxvi.) 16, 17. -^ Ps. cxxvi. (cxxvii) i.

" S. Matt, xi- 28. " Phil. ii. 12, 13.

428

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about Paul the persecutor, what about Mat-
thew the pubHcan, of whom the one was
drawn to salvation while eager for bloodshed
and the punishment of the innocent, the other
for violence and rapine ? But if we say that the
beginning of our free will is always due to
the inspiration of the grace of God, what about
the faith of Zaccheus, or what are we to say
of the goodness of the thief on the cross, who
bv their own desires brought violence to bear
on the kingdom of heaven and so prevented
the special leadings of their vocation ? But if
we attribute the performance of virtuous acts,
and the execution of God's commands to our
own will, how do we pray : " Strengthen, O
God, what Thou hast wrought in us ; "' and
" The work of our hands stablish Thou upon
us ? " ^ We know that Balaam was brought to
curse Israel, but we see that when he wished
to curse he was not permitted to. Abime-
lech is preserved from touching Rebecca and
so sinning against God. Joseph is sold by
the envy of his brethren, in order to bring
about the descent of the children of Israel
into Egypt, and that while they were contem-
plating the death of their brother provision
might be made for them against the famine
to come : as Joseph shows when he makes him-
self known to his brethren and says : " Fear
not, neither let it be grievous unto you that ye
sold me into these parts : for for your salva-
tion God sent me before you ; " and below :
" For God sent me before that ye might be pre-
served upon the earth and might have food
whereby to live. Not by your design was I
sent but by the will of God, who has made me
a father to Pharaoh and lord of all his house,
and chief over all the land of Egypt.'' And
when his brethren were alarmed after the
death of his father, he removed their suspicions
and terror by saying : " Fear not : Can ye
resist the will of God ? You imagined evil
against me but God turned it into good, that
He might exalt me, as ye see at the present
time, that He might save much people." '^ And
that this was brought about providentially the
blessed David likewise declared saying in the
hundred and fourth Psalm : " And He called
for a dearth upon the land : and brake all the
staff of bread. He sent a man before them :
Joseph was sold for a slave." ^ These two
then ; viz., the grace of God and free will seem
opposed to each other, but really are in har-
mony, and we gather from the system of good-
ness that we ought to have both alike, lest if
we withdraw one of them from man, we may
seem to have broken the rule of the Church's

' Ps. Ixvii. (Ixviii.) jg; Ixxxix. (xc.) 17.

2 Gen. xlv, 5-8; 1. 19, 20. ^ Ps. civ. (cv). 16, 17.

faith : for when God sees us inclined to will
what is good. He meets, guides, and strength-
ens us : for " At the voice of thy cry, as soon as
He shall hear, He will answer thee ; " and :
" Call upon Me," He says, " in the day of tri-
bulation and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt
glorify Me.'' ^ And again, if He finds that we
are unwilling or have grown cold. He stirs our
hearts with salutary exhortations, by -Cvhich a
good will is either renewed or formed in us.

CHAPTER XII.

That a good will should not always be attributed to grace, nor
alwaj-s to man himself.

For we should not hold that God made man
such that he can never will or be capable of
what is good : or else He has not granted him
a free will, if He has suffered him only to will
or be capable of evil, but neither to will or be
capable of what is good of himself. And, in
this case how will that first statement of the
Lord made about men after the fall stand :
" Behold, Adam is become as one of us, know-
ing good and evil ? " ^ For we cannot think
that before, he was such as to be altogether
ignorant of good. Otherwise we should have
to admit that he was formed like some ir-
rational and iiisensate beast : which is suffi-
ciently absurd and altogether alien from the
Catholic faith. Moreover as the wisest Solo-
mon says : " God made man upright,'' i.e., al-
ways to enjoy the knowledge of good only,
" But they have sought out many imagina-
tions," ^ for they came, as has been said, to know
good and evil. Adam therefore after the fall
conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not
previously, but did not lose the knowledge of
good which he had before. Penally the Apos-
tle's words very clearly show that mankind did
not lose after the fall of Adam the knowledge
of good : as he says : " For when the Gentiles,
which have not the law, do by nature the
things of the law, these, though they have not
the law, are a law to themselves, as they show
the work of the law written in their hearts,
their conscience bearing witness to these, and
their thoughts within them either accusing or
else excusing them, in the day in which God
shall judge the secrets of men."' "^ And with
the same meaning the Lord rebukes by the
prophet the luinatural but freely chosen blind-
ness of the Jews, which they by their obstinacy
brought upon themselves, saying : " Hear ye
deaf, and ye blind, behold that you may see.

* Is. XXX. 19; Ps. xlix. (1.) IS-
'' Gen. iii. 22.

8 Fxcl. vii. 29 (LXX.).
1 Rom. ii. 14-16.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON.

429

Who is deaf but My servant ? and blind, but
he to whom I have sent My messengers ? " ^
And that no one-might ascribe this bHndness of
theirs to nature instead of to their own will,
elsewhere He says : " Brmg forth the people
that are blind and have eyes : that are deaf
and have ears ;" and again : "having eyes, but
ye see not'; and ears, but ye hear not." "" The
Lord also says in the gospel : " Because seeing
they see not, and hearing they hear not neither
do they understand." ^ And in them is fulfilled
the prophecy of Isaiah which says : " Hearing
ye shall hear and shall not understand : and
seeing ye shall see and shall not see. For the
heart of this people is waxed fat, and their ears
are dull of hearing : and they have closed their
eyes, lest they should see with their eyes and hear
with their ears and understand with their heart,
and be turned and 1 should heal them." * Finally
in order to denote that the possibility of good
was in them, in chiding the Pharisees, He
says : " But why of your own selves do ye not
judge what is right ? '" ^ And this he certainly
would not have said to them, unless He knew
that by their natural judgment they could dis-
cern what was fair. Wherefore w^e must take
care not to refer all the merits of the saints to
the Lord in such a way as to ascribe nothing
but what is evil and perverse to human nature :
in doing which we are confuted by the evi-
dence of the most wise Solomon, or rather of
the Lord Himself, Whose words these are ; for
when the building of the Temple was finished
and he was praying, he spoke as follows : " And
David my father w^ould have built a house to
the name of the Lord God of Israel : and the
Lord said to David my father : Whereas thou
hast thought in thine heart to build a house to
My name, thou hast well done in having this
same thing in thy mind. Nevertheless thou
shalt not build a house to My name."" This
thought then and this purpose of king David,
are we to call it good and from God or bad and
from man ? For if that thought was good and'
from God, why did He by whom it was inspired
refuse that it should be carried into effect ? But
if it is bad and from man, why is it praised by
the Lord ? It remains then that we must take
it as good and from man. And in the same
way we can take our own thoughts today. For
it was not given only to David to think what
is good of himself, nor is it denied to us natu-
rally to think or imagine anything that is good.
It cannot then be doubted that there are by
nature some seeds of goodness in every soul
implanted by the kindness of the Creator :
but unless these are quickened by the assis-

1 Is. xlii. 18, ig. 3 S. Matt. xiii. 13. ' S. Luke xii. 57.

2 Is. xliii. 8; Jer. v. 21. * Is. vi. 9, 10. ^ i Kings viii. 17-19.

tance of God, they will not be able to attain
to an increase of perfection, for, as the blessed
Apostle says : " Neither is he that planteth
anything nor he that watereth, but God that
giveth the increase." ^ But that freedom of
the will is to some degree in a man's own
power is very clearly taught in the book
termed the Pastor,^ where two angels are said
to be attached to each one of us, i.e., a good
and a bad one, while it lies at a man's own
option to choose which to follow. And there-
fore the will always remains free in man, and
can either neglect or delight in the grace of
God. For the Apostle would not have com-
manded saying : " Work out your own salvation
with fear and trembling," had he not known
that it could be advanced or neglected by us.
But that men might not fancy that they had
no need of Divine aid for the work of Salva^
tion, he subjoins : " For it is God that worketh
in you both to will and to do, of His good
pleasure." ^ And therefore he warns Timothy
and says : " Neglect not the grace of God
which is in thee ; " and again : " For which cause
I exhort thee to stir up the grace of God
which is in thee " -"^ Hence also in writing to
the Corinthians he exhorts and warns them
not through their unfruitful works to show
themselves unworthy of the grace of God, say-
ing : " And we helping, exhort you that ye
receive not the grace of God in vain : " " for
the reception of saving grace was of no profit
to Simon doubtless because he had received
it in vain ; for he would not obey the com-
mand of the blessed Peter who said : " Repent
of thine iniquity, and pray God if haply the
thoughts of thine heart may be forgiven thee :
for I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitter-
ness and the bonds of iniquity." ^- It prevents
therefore the will of man, for it is said : " My
God will prevent me with His mercy ; " ^^ and
again when God waits and for our good de-
lays, that He may put our desires to the test,
our will precedes, for it is said : " And in the
morning my prayer shall prevent Thee ;" and
again : " I prevented the dawning of the day
and cried ; " and : " Mine eyes have prevented
the morning." ^* For He calls and invites us,
when He says : " All the day long I stretched
forth My hands to a disobedient and gainsay-
ing people ; " ^^ and He is invited by us when we
say to Him : " All the day long I have stretched
forth My hands unto Thee " ^® He waits for us,
when it is said by the prophet : " Wherefore
the Lord waiteth to have compassion upon

'' I Cor. iii. 7.

8 Cf. Cotif. VIII. c. xvii.

n Phil. ii. 12; 13.
'3 Ps. Iviii. (lix.) II.
^* Ps. Ixxxvii. (Ixxxviii.) 14; cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 148.

1'' I Tim. iv. 14; 2 Tim. i. 6.
^1 2 Cor. vi. I.
*2 Acts viii. 22, 23.

^^ Rom. X. 21,

Ps. Ixxxvii. (Ixxxviii.) 10.

430

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

us ; " ^ and He is waited for by us, when we
say : " I waited patiently for the Lord, and He
inclined unto me ; " and : " I have waited for thy
salvation, O Lord." ^ He strengthens us when
He says : " And I have chastised them, and
strengthened their arms ; and they have ima-
gined evil against me ; " ^ and He exhorts
us to strengthen ourselves when He says :
" Strengthen ye the weak hands, and make
strong the feeble knees. " '' Jesus cries : " If
any man thirst let him come unto Me and
drink ; " ^ the prophet also cries to Him : " I
have laboured with crying, my jaws are become
hoarse : mine eyes have failed, whilst I hope
in my God. " ^ The Lord seeks us, when He
says : " I sought and there was no man. I
called, and there was none to answer ; " ^ and
He Himself is sought by the bride who mourns
.with tears : " I sought on my bed by night
Him whom my soul loved : I sought Him and
found Him not ; I called Him, and He gave me

no answer

" 8

CHAPTER XHL

How human efforts cannot be set against the grace of God.

And so the grace of God always co-oper-
ates vv^ith our will for its advantage, and in all
things assists, protects, and defends it, in such
a way as sometimes even to require and look
for some efforts of good will from it that it
may not appear to confer its gifts on one who
is asleep or relaxed in sluggish ease, as it
seeks opportunities to show that as the torpor
of man's sluggishness is shaken off its bounty
is not unreasonable, when it bestows it on ac-
count of some desire and efforts to gain it.
And none the less does God's grace continue
to be free grace while in return for some small
and trivial efforts it bestows with priceless
bounty such glory of immortality, and such
gifts of eternal bliss. For because the faith
of the thief on the cross came as the first
thing, no one would say that therefore the
blessed abode of Paradise was not promised
to him as a free gift, nor could we hold that
it was the penitence of King David's single
word which he uttered : " I have sinned against
the Lord," and not rather the mercy of God
which removed those two grievous sins of his,
so that it was vouchsafed to him to hear from
the prophet Nathan : " The Lord also hath put
away thine iniquity : thou shalt not die." ^
The fact then that he added murder to adul-

1 Is. XXX. i8.

' Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 2 ; cxviii. (cxix.) :66.

3 Hosea vii. 15.

* Is. XXXV. 3.

'' S. John vii. 37.

" Ps. Ixviii. (Ixix.) 4.
' Cant. V. 6.
* Cant. iii. i.
" 2 Sam. xii. 13.

tery, was certainly due to free will : but that
he was reproved by the prophet, this was the
grace of Divine Compassion. Again it was
his own doing that he was humbled and ac-
knowledged his guilt ; but that in a very short
interval of time he was granted pardon for
such sins, this was the gift of the merciful
Lord. And what shall we say of" this brief
confession and of the incomparable infinity of
Divine reward, when it is easy to see what the
blessed Apostle, as he fixes his gaze on the
greatness of future remuneration, announced
on those countless persecutions of his ? " for,"
says he, " our light affliction which is but for a
moment worketh in us a far more exceeding
and eternal weight of glory," ^° of which else-
where he constantly affirms, saying that " the
sufferings of this present time are not worthy
to be compared with the future glory which
shall be revealed in us." ^^ However much
then human weakness may strive, it cannot
come up to the future reward, nor by its efforts
so take off from Divine grace that it should
not always remain a free gift. And therefore
the aforesaid teacher of the Gentiles, though
he bears his witness that he had obtained the
grade of the Apostolate by the grace of God,
saying : " By the grace of God I am what I
am," yet also declares that he himself had cor-
responded to Divine Grace, where he says :
" And His Grace in me was not in vain ; but I
laboured more abundantly than they all : and
yet not I, but the Grace of God with me." ^-
For when he says : " I laboured," he shows
the effort of his own will; when he says : "yet
not I, but the grace of God," he points out the
value of Divine protection ; when he says :
■' with me," he affirms that it co-operates with
him when he was not idle or careless, but
working and making an effort.

CHAPTER XIV.

How God makes trial of the strength of man's will by means
of his temptations.

And this too we read that the Divine right-
eousness provided for in the case of Job His
well tried athlete, when the devil had challenged
him to single combat. For if he had advanced
against his foe, not with his own strength, but
solely with the protection of God's grace ;
and, supported only by Divine aid without any
virtue of patience on his own part, had borne
that manifold weight of temptations and losses,
contrived with all the cruelty of his foe, how
would the devil have repeated with some justice

2 Cor. iv. 17.

" Rom. viii. i8.

'- I Cor. XV. 10.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHyEREMON.

431

that slanderous speech which he had previously
uttered : " Doth Job serve God for nought ?
Hast Thou not hedged him in, and all his
substance round about ? but take away thine
hand," i.e., allow him to fight with me in his own
strength, "andhe will curse Thee to Thyface." ^
But as after the struggle the slanderous foe
dare not give vent to any such murmur as this,
he admitted that he was vanquished by his
strength and not by that of God ; although too
we must not hold that the grace of God was
altogether wanting to him, which gave to the
tempter a power of tempting in proportion
to that which it knew that he had of resist-
ing, without protecting him from his attacks in
such a way as to leave no room for human vir-
tue, but only providing for this ; viz., that the
most fierce foe should not drive him out of his
mind and overwhelm him when weakened, with
unequal thoughts and in an unfair contest.
But that the Lord is sometimes wont to tempt
our faith that it maybe made stronger and more
glorious, we are taught by the example of the
centurion in the gospel, in whose case though
the Lord knew that He would cure his servant
by the power of His word, yet He chose to offer
His bodily presence, saying : " I will come and
heal him : " but when the centurion overcame
this offer of His by the ardour of still more
fervent faith, and said : " Lord, I am not worthy
that Thou shouldest come under my roof : but
speak the word only and my servant shall be
healed," the Lord marvelled at him and praised
him, and put him before all those of the people
of Israel who had believed, saying : " Verily, I
say unto you, I have not found so great faith in
Israel." ^ For there would have been no ground
for praise or merit, if Christ had only preferred
in him what He Himself had given. And this
searching trial of faith we read that the Divine
righteousness brought about also in the case
of the grandest of the patriarchs ; where it is
said : " And it came to pass after these things
that God did tempt Abraham." ^ For the Di-
vine righteousness wished to try not that faith
with which the Lord had inspired him, but that
which when called and enlightened by the Lord
he could show forth by his own free will.
Wherefore the firmness of his faith was not
without reason proved, and when the grace of
God, which had for a while left him to prove
him, came to his aid, it was said : " Lay not
thine hand on the lad, and do nothing unto
him: for now I know that thou fearest the Lord,
and for my sake hast not spared thy beloved
son." ** And that this kind of temptation can
befall us, for the sake of proving us, is suffi-

''■ Job i. 9-1 1.

* S. Matt. viii. 7-10.

3 Gen. xxii. i. < lb. ver. 12.

ciently clearly foretold by the giver of the Law
in Deuteronomy : " If there rise in the midst
of you a prophet or one that saith he hath seen
a dream, and foretell a sign and wonder ; and
that come to pass which he spoke, and he say
to thee : Let us go and serve strange gods
which ye know not, thou shalt not hear the
words of that prophet or dreamer ; for the Lord
your God surely trieth thee, whether thou lovest
Him with all thine heart, and keepest His Com-
mandments, or no." ^ What then follows ?
When God has permitted that prophet or
dreamer to arise, must we hold that He will
protect those whose faith He is purposing to
try, in such a way as to leave no place for their
own free will, where they can fight with the
tempter with their own strength > And why is
it necessary for them even to be tried if He
knows them to be so weak and feeble as not to
be able by their own power to resist the tempter ?
But certainly the Divine righteousness would
not have permitted them to be tempted, unless
it knew that there was within them an equal
power of resistance, by which they could by an
equitable judgment be found in either result
either guilty or worthy of praise. To the same
effect also is this which the Apostle says :
" Therefore let him that thinketh he stand-
eth, take heed lest he fall. There hath no
temptation taken you but such as is com-
mon to man. But God is faithful, who will
not suffer you to be tempted above that ye
are able, but will with the temptation make
also a way of escape that ye may be able to
bear it."® For when he says "Let him that
standeth take heed lest he fall " he sets free
will on its guard, as he certainly knew that,
after grace had been received, it could either
stand by its exertions or fall through careless-
ness. But when he adds : " there hath no
temptation taken you but what is common to
man " he chides their weakness and the frailty
of their heart that is not yet strengthened,
as they could not yet resist the attacks
of the hosts of spiritual wickedness, against
which he knew that he and those who were
perfect daily fought ; of which also he says to
the Ephesians : " For we wrestle not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against the world-rulers of
this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in
heavenly places." ^ But when he subjoins :
" But God is faithful who will not suffer you to
be tempted above that ye are able," he certainly
is not hoping that the Lord will not suffer
them to be tempted, but that they may not be
tempted above what they are able to bear.
For the one shows the power of man's will,

'' Deut. xiii. 1-3.

6 I Cor. X. 12, 13.

' Eph. vi. 12.

432

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

the other denotes the grace of the Lord who '
moderates the violence of temptations. In all
these phrases then there is proof that Divine
grace ever stirs up the will of man, not so as
to protect and defend it in all things in such '
a way as to cause it not to fight by its own
efforts against its spiritual adversaries, the
victor over whom may set it down to God's
grace, and the vanquished to his own weak-
ness, and thus learn that his hope is always :
not in his own courage but in the Divine
assistance, and that he must ever fly to his
Protector. And to prove this not by our own
conjecture but by still clearer passages of Holy
Scripture let us consider what we read in
Joshuah the son of Nun : " The Lord," it says, |
" left these nations and would not destroythem,
that by them He might try Israel, whether they
would keep the commandments of the Lord
their God, and that they might learn to fight with
their enemies." ^ And if we may illustrate the
incomparable mercy of our Creator from some-
thing earthly, not as being equal in kindness,
but as an illustration of mercy : if a tender and
anxious nurse carries an infant in her bosom
for a lonsf time in order sometime to teach it

O I

to walk, and first allows it to crawl, then sup- j
ports it that by the aid of her right hand it
may lean on its alternate steps, presently
leaves it for a little and if she sees it tottering
at all, catches hold of it, and grabs at it when
falling, when down picks it up, and either !
shields it from a fall, or allows it to fall lightly,
and sets it up again after a tumble, but when
she has brought it up to boyhood or the
strength of youth or early manhood, lays upon
it some burdens or labours by which it may
be not overwhelmed but exercised, and allows
it to vie with those of its own age ; how much
more does the heavenly Father of all know
whom to carry in the bosom of His grace,
whom to train to virtue in His sight by the
exercise of free will, and yet He helps him in
his efforts, hears him when he calls, leaves
him not when he seeks Him, and sometimes
snatches him from peril even without his
knowing it.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the manifold grace of nien"s calls.

And by this it is clearly shown that God's
''judgments are inscrutable and His ways past
finding out," - by which He draws manki:nd to
salvation. And this too we can prove by the
instances of calls in the gospels. For Pie
chose Andrew and Peter and the rest of the

^ Judg. iii. I, 2 ; ii. 22.

2 Rom. xi. 33.

apostles by the free compassion of His grace
when they were thinking nothing of their heal-
ing and salvation. Zaccheeus, when in his
faithfulness he was struggling to see the Lord,
and making up for his littleness of stature by
the height of the sycamore tree, He not only
received, but actually honoured by the bles-
sing of His dwelling with him. Paul even
against his will and resisting He drew to Him.
Another He charged to cleave to Him so
closely that when he asked for the shortest
possible delay in order to bury his father He
did not grant it. To Cornelius when con-
stantly attending to prayers and alms the way
of salvation was shown by way of recompense,
and by the visitation of an angel he was bid-
den to summon Peter, and learn from him
the words of salvation, whereby he might be
saved with all his. And so the manifold wis-
dom of God grants with manifold and inscru-
table kindness salvation to men ; and imparts
to each one according to his capacity the
grace of His bounty, so that He wills to grant
His healing not according to the uniform power
of His Majesty but according to the measure
of the faith in which He finds each one, or as
He Himself has imparted it to each one. For
when one believed that for the cure of his lep-
rosy the will of Christ alone was sufficient He
healed him by the simple consent of His will,
saying : " I will, be thou clean." ^ When an-
other prayed that He would come and raise
his dead daughter by laying His hands on her.
He entered his house as he had hoped, and
granted what was asked of Him. When another
believed that what was essential for his salva-
tion depended on His command, and answered :
" Speak the word only, and my servant shall
be healed," ^ He restored to their former
strength the limbs that were relaxed, by the
power of a word, saying : " Go thy way, and as
thou hast believed so be it unto thee." '' To
others hoping for restoration from the touch
of His hem, He granted rich gifts of healing.
To some,, when asked, He bestowed remedies
for their diseases. To others He afforded
the means of healing unasked : others He
urged on to hope, saying : " Wiliest thou to be
made whole .' " '' to others when they were
without hope He brought help spontaneously.
The desires of some He searched out before
satisfying their wants, saying : " What will ye
that I should do for you ? " "^ To another who
knew not the way to obtain what he desired,
He showed it in His kindness, saying : " If
thou believest thou shalt see the glory of
God." * Among some so richly did He pour

3 S. Matt. viii. 3.

4 Ii. ver. S.

5 76. ver. 13.

6 S. John V. 6.

" S. Matt. XX. 32.
8 &. John xi. 40.

THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHyEREMON.

43:

forth the mighty works of His cures that of
them the Evangelist says : " And He healed
all their sick." ^ But among others the un-
fathomable depth of Christ's beneficence was
so stopped up, that it was said : " And Jesus
could do there no mighty works because of
their unbelief." - And so the bounty of God
is actually shaped according to the capacity of
man"s faith, so that to one it is said : " Accor-
ding to thy faith be it unto thee : " ^ and to
another : " Go thy way, and as thou hast be-
lieved so be it unto thee ; " ^ to another " Be it
unto thee according as thou wilt," ^ and again to
another : " Thy faith hath made thee whole." "^

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the grace of God ; to the effect that it transcends the
narrow limits of human faith.

But let no one imagine that we have brought
forward these instances to try to make out
that the chief share in our salvation rests with
our faith, according to the profane notion of
some who attribute everything to free will and
lay down that the grace of God is dispensed
in accordance with the desert of each man :
but we plainly assert our unconditional opinion
that the grace of God is superabounding, and
sometimes overflows the narrow limits of man's
lack of faith. And this, as we remember,
happened in the case of the ruler in the gospel,
who. as he believed that it was an easier thing
for his son to be cured when sick than to be
raised when dead, implored the Lord to come
at once, saying : " Lord, come down ere ray
child die ; " and though Christ reproved his
lack of faith with these words : " Except ye see
signs and wonders ye will not believe," yet He
did not manifest the grace of His Divinity in
proportion to the weakness of his faith, nor
did He expell the deadly disease of the fever
by His bodily presence, as the man believed he
would, but by the word of His power, saying :
"Go thy way, thy son liveth." ' And we read also
that the Lord poured forth this superabundance
of grace in the case of the cure of the paralytic,
when, though he only asked for the healing of
the weakness by which his body was enervated.
He first brought health to the soul by saying :
"Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven
thee." After which, when the scribes did not
believe that He could forgive men's sins, in order
to confound their incredulity. He set free by
the power of His word the man's limb, and put
an end to his disease of paralysis, by saying :

1 S. Matt. XIV. 14. * S. Matt. viii. 13. " S. Luke xviii. 42.

2 S. Mark vi. 5, 6. c S. Matt. xv. 28. ' S. John iv. 48-50.

3 S. Matt. ix. 29.

" Why think ye evil in your hearts ? Whether
is easier to say, thy sins be forgiven thee, or
to say, arise and walk ? But that, ye may know
that the Son of man hath power on earth
to forgive sins, then saith He to the sick of
the palsy : Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto
thine house." ^ And in the same way in the
case of the man who had been lying for thirty-
eight years near the edge of the pool, and hop-
ing for a cure from the moving of the water. He
showed the princely character of His bounty
unasked. For when in His wish to arouse
him for the saving remedy. He had said to
him : " wiliest thou to be made whole," and
when the man complained of his lack of
human assistance and said : " I have no man
to put me into the pool when the water is
troubled," the Lord in His pity granted pardon
to his unbelief and ignorance, and restored
him to his former health, not in the way which
he expected, but in the way which He Him-
self willed, saying : " Arise, take up thy bed
and go unto thine house." ^ And what won-
der if these acts are told of the Lord's power,
when Divine grace has actually wrought simi-
lar works by means of His servants ! For
when Peter and John were entering the temple,
when the man who was lame from his mother's
womb and had no idea how to walk, asked an
alms, they gave him not the miserable coppers
which the sick man asked for, but the power
to walk, and when he was only expecting the
smallest of gifts to console him, enriched him
with the prize of unlocked for health, as
Peter said : " Silver and gold have I none :
but such as I have, give I unto thee. In the
name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and
walk." ''

CHAPTER XVII.

Of the inscrutable providence of God.

By those instances then which we have
brought forward from the gospel records we
can very clearly perceive that God brings
salvation to mankind in diverse and innumer-
able methods and inscrutable ways, and that
He stirs up the course of some, who are already
wanting it, and thirsting for it, to greater zeal,
while He forces some even against their will,
and resisting. And that at one time He gives
his assistance for the fulfilment of those things
which he sees that we desire for our good,
while at another time He puts into us the very
beginnings of holy desire, and grants both the
commencement of a good work and perse-
verance in it. Hence it comes that in our

8 S. Matt. jx. 2-6.

» S. John V. 6-8.

10 Acts iii. 6.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

prayers we proclaim God as not only our Pro-
tector and Saviour, but actually as our Helper
and Sponsor. For whereas He first calls us
to Him, and while we are still ignorant and
unwilling, draws us towards salvation, He is
our Protector and Saviour, but whereas when
we are already striving. He is wont to bring
us help, and to receive and defend those who
fiy to Him for refuge. He is termed our Spon-
sor and Refuge. Finally the blessed Apostle
when revolving in his mind this manifold
bounty of God's providence, as he sees that
he has fallen into some vast and boundless
ocean of God's goodness, exclaims: "O the
depth of the riches of the wisdom and know-
ledge of God ! How inscrutable are the judg-
ments of God and His ways past finding out !
For who hath known the mind of the Lord > " ^
Whoever then imagines that he can by hu-
man reason fathom the depths of that incon-
ceivable abyss, will be trying to explain away
the astonishment at that knowledge, at which
that great and mighty teacher of the gentiles
was awed. For if a man thinks that he can
either conceive in his mind or discuss ex-
haustively the dispensation of God whereby
He works salvation in men, he certainly im-
pugns the truth of the Apostle's words and
asserts with profane audacity that His judg-
ments can be scrutinized, and His ways searched
out. This providence and love of God there-
fore, which the Lord in His unwearied good-
ness vouchsafes to show us. He compares to
the tenderest heart of a kind mother, as He
wishes to express it by a figure of human
affection, and finds in His creatures no such
feeling of love, to which he could better com-
pare it. And He uses this example, because
nothing dearer can be found in human nature,
saying : " Can a mother forget her child, that
she should not have compassion on the son
of her womb ? " But not content with this
comparison He at once goes beyond it, and
subjoins these words : " And though she may
forget, yet will not I forget thee." ^

CHAPTER XVHL

The decision of the fathers that free will is not equal to save

a man.

And from this it is clearly gathered by
those who, led not by chattering words but
by experience, measure the magnitude of grace,
and the paltry limits of man's will, that " the
race is not to the swift nor the battle to the
strong, nor food to the wise, nor riches to

1 Rom. xi, 33, 34.

2 Is. xWx. 15.

the prudent, nor grace to the learned," but
that " all these worketh that one and the self-
same Spirit, dividing to every man severally
as He will." ^ And therefore it is proved by
no doubtful faith but by experience which
can (so to speak) be laid hold of, that God the
Father of all things worketh indifferently all
things in all, as the Apostle says, like some
most kind father and most benign physician ;
and that now He puts into us the very begin-
nings of salvation, and gives to each the zeal
of his free will ; and now grants the carrying
out of the work, and the perfecting of good-
ness ; and now saves men, even against their
will and without their knowledge, from ruin
that is close at hand, and a headlong fall ; and
now affords them occasions and opportunities
of salvation, and wards off headlong and
violent attacks from purposes that would bring
death ; and assists some who are already wil-
ling and running, while He draws others who
are unwilling and resisting, and forces them
to a good will. But that, when we do not
always resist or remain persistently unwilling,
everything is granted to us by God, and that
the main share in our salvation is to be as-
cribed not to the merit of our own works but
to heavenly grace, we are thus taught by the
words of the Lord Himself : " And you shall
remember your ways and all your wicked
doings with which you have been defiled ; and
you shall be displeased with yourselves in your
own sight for all your wicked deeds which you
have committed. And you shall know that I
am the Lord, when I shall have done well by
you for My own name's sake, not according
to your evil ways, nor according to your wicked
deeds, O house of Israel." ■* And therefore it
is laid down by all the Catholic fathers who
have taught perfection of heart not by empty
disputes of words, but in deed and act, that
the first stage in the Divine gift is for each
man to be inflamed with the desire of every-
thing that is good, but in such a way that the
choice of free will is open to either side : and
that the second stage in Divine grace is for
the aforesaid practices of virtue to be able
to be performed, but in such a way that the
possibilities of the will are not destroyed :
the third stage also belongs to the gifts of
God, so that it may be held by the persistence
of the goodness already acquired, and in such
a way that the liberty may not be surrendered
and experience bondage. For the God of all
must be held to work in all, so as to incite,
protect, and strengthen, but not to take away
the freedom of the will which He Himself
has once given. If however any more subtle

3 Eccl. ix. II (LXX.); 1 Cor. xii. 11. * Ezek. xx. 43, 44-

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435

inference of man's argumentation and reason-
ins: seems opposed to this interpretation, it

should be avoided rather than brought for-
ward to the destruction of the faith (for we
gain not faith from understanding, but under-
standing from faith, as it is written : " Except
ye believe, ye will not understand " ^) for how

God works all things in us and yet everything
can be ascribed to free will, cannot be fully
grasped by the mind and reason of man.

Strengthened by this food the blessed
Choiremon prevented us from feeling the toil
of so difficult a journey.

XIV.
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

ON SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE.

CHAPTER I.

The words of Abbot Nesteros on the knowledge of the
religious.

T.HE order of our promise and course de-
mands that there shtould follow the instruction
of Abbot Nesteros,^ a man of excellence in all
points and of the greatest knowledge : who
when he had seen that we had committed some
parts of Holy Scripture to memory and desired
to understand them, addressed us in these
words. There are indeed many different kinds
of knowledge in this world, since there is as
great a variety of them as there is of the arts
and sciences. But, while all are either utterly
useless or only useful for the good of this pre-
sent life, there is yet none which has not its
own system and method for learning it, by
which it can be grasped by those who seek it.
If then those arts are guided by certain spe-
cial rules for their publication, how much more
does the system and expression of our religion,
which tends to the contemplation of the secrets
of invisible mysteries, and seeks no present
gain but the .reward of an eternal recompense,
depend on a fixed order and scheme. And the
knowledge of this is twofold: first, jro^Krtxrj,
i. e., practical, which is brought about by an
improvement of morals and purification from
faults : secondly, df^woi/nxri^ which consists in
the contemplation of things Divine and the
knowledge of most sacred thoughts.

CHAPTER H.

On grasping the knowledge of spiritual things.

Whoever then would arrive at this theore-
tical knowledge must first pursue practical

1 Is. vii. g.

2 Nesteros. In the Vitae Patrum there .ire some stories of one or
two of thiG naras (for it is not quite clear whether they are distinct

knowledge with all his might and main. For
this practical knowledge can be acquired with-
out theoretical, but theoretical cannot possibly
be gained without practical. For there are
certain stages, so distinct, and arranged in
such a way that man's humility may be able to
mount on high ; and if these follow each other
in turn in the order of which we have spoken,
man can attain to a height to which he could
not fly, if the first step were wanting. In vain
then does one strive for the vision of God, who
does not shun the stains of sins : " For the
spirit of God hates deception, and dwells not
in a body subject to sins." ^

CHAPTER III.

How practical perfection depends on a double system.

But this practical perfection depends on a
double system ; for its first method is to know
the nature of all faults and the manner of their
cure. Its second, to discover the order of the
virtues, and form our mind by their perfection
so that it may be obedient to them, not as if it
were forced and subject to some fierce sway,
but as if it delighted in its natural good, and
throve upon it, and mounted by that steep and
narrow way with real pleasure. For in what
way will one, who has neither succeeded in
understanding the nature of his own faults, nor
tried to eradicate »them, be able to gain an un-
derstanding of virtues, which is the second
stage of practical training, or the mysteries of
spiritual and heavenly things, which exist in
the higher stage of theoretical knowledge ?
For it will necessarily be maintained that he

persons or one and the same to whom tlie stories refer). One was
known as 6 fieyas, and was a friend of St. Antony, and is sup-
posed by some to be tlie same whose Conferences Cassian here
relates, but nothing certain is known of him. ^ Wisdom i. 4, 5.

436

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

cannot advance to more lofty heights who has
not surmounted the lower ones, and much less
will he be able to grasp those things that are
without, who has not succeeded in understand-
ing what is within his comprehension. But
you should know that we must make an effort
with a twofold purpose in our exertion ; both
for the expulsion of vice, and for the attainment
of virtue. And this we do not gather from our
own conjecture, but are taught by the words
of Him who alone knows the strength and
method of His work : " Behold,'' He says : " I
have set thee this clay over the nations and
over kingdoms, to root up, and to pull down,
and to waste, and to destroy, and to build,
and to plant. " ^ He points out that for
getting rid of noxious things four things are
requisite ; viz., to root up, to pull down, to
waste, and to destroy : but for the performance
of what is good, and the acquisition of what
pertains to righteousness only to build and to
plant. Whence it is perfectly evident that it
is a harder thing to tear up and eradicate the
inveterate passions of body and soul than to
introduce and plant spiritual virtues.

CHAPTER IV.

How practical life is distributed among many different
professions and interests.

This practical life then, which as has been
said rests on a double system, is distributed
among many different professions and inter-
ests. For some make it their whole pur-
pose to aim at the secrecy of an anchorite,
and purity of heart, as we know that in the
past Elijah and Elisha, and in our own day
the blessed Antony and others who followed
with the same object, were joined most closely
to God by the silence of solitude. Some
havegivenall their efforts and interests towards
the system of the brethren and the watchful
care of the coenobium ; as we remember that
recently Abbot John, who presided over a big
monastery in the neighbourhood of the city
Thmuis,^ and some other inen of like merits
were eminent with the signs of Apostles.
Some are pleased with the kindly service of
the guest house and reception, by which in
the past the patriarch Abraham and Lot
pleased the Lord, and recently the blessed
Macarius,** a man of singular courtesy and

* Jer. i. lo.

- It is doubtful whctlier this is the same John w hn was mentioned
in the Institutes V. xxviii. and to whom the xixth Conference is
assigned. Thmuis is tlie Coptic Thmoui, a little to the south of the
Mendesian branch of tlie Nile. See Rawlinson's note to Herod, ii.
c. i66 and cf. Ptolemy IV. v. § 51.

^ On the two Macarii see the note on the Institutes V. xli.

patience who presided over the guest house
at Alexandria in such away as to be considered
inferior to none of those who aimed at the
retirement of the desert. Some choose the
care of the sick, others devote themselves
to intercession, which is offered up for the
oppressed and afflicted, or give themselves up
to teaching, or give alms to the poor, and
iiourish among men of excellence and renown,
by reason of their love and goodness.

CHAPTER V.

On perseverance in the line that has been chosen.

Wherefore it is good and profitable for
each one to endeavour with all his might and
main to attain perfection in the work that
has been begun, according to the line which
he has chosen as the grace which he has
received ; and while he praises and admires
the virtues of others, not to swerve from his
own line which he has once for all chosen, as
he knows that, as the Apostle says, the body
of the Church indeed is one, but the members
many, and that it has " gifts differing accord-
ing to the grace which is given us, whether
prophecy, according to the proportion of the
faith, whether ministry, in ministering, or he
that teacheth, in doctrine, or he that exhort-
eth in exhortation, he that giveth, in sim-
plicity, he that ruleth, with carefulness, he
that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness."^ For
no members can claim the offices of other
members, because the eyes cannot perform
the duties of the hands, nor the nostrils of
the ears. And so not all are Apostles, not
all prophets, not all doctors, not all have the
gifts of healing, not all speak with tongues, not
all interpret.^

CHAPTER VL

How the weak are easily moved.

For tiiose who are not yet settled in the line
which they have taken up are often, when they
hear some praised for different interests and
virtues, so excited by the praise of them that
they try forthwith to imitate their method : and
in this human weakness is sure to expend its
efforts to no purpose. For it is an impossibility
for one and the same man to excel at once in
all those good deeds which I enumerated above.
And if anyone is anxious equally to affect them
all, he is quite sure to come to this ; viz., that
while he pursues them all, he will not thoroughly

4 Rom. xii. 4-8.

S Cf. I Cor. xii. 28.

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FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

437

succeed in anyone, and will lose more than he
will gain from this changing and shifting about.
For in many ways men advance towards God,
and so each man should complete that one
which he has once fixed upon, never chan-
ging the course of his purpose, so that he may
be perfect in whatever line of life his may be.

CHAPTER VTI.

An instance of chastity which teaclies us that all men should
not be emulous of all things.

For apart from that loss, which we have said
that a monk incurs who wants in light-minded-
ness to pass from one pursuit to another, there
is a risk of death that is hence incurred, because
at times things which are rightly done by some
are wrongly taken by others as an example,
and things which turned out well for some, are
found to be injurious to others. For, to give
an instance, it is as if one wished to imitate
the good deed of that man, which Abbot John
is wont to bring forward, not for the sake of
imitating him but simply out of admiration for
him ; for one came to the aforesaid old man in
a secular dress and when he had brought him
some of the first fruits of his crops, he found
some one there possessed by a most fierce
devil. And this one though he scorned the
adjurations and commands of Abbot John, and
vowed that he would never at his bidding leave
the body which he had occupied, yet was terri-
fied at the coming of this other, and departed
with a most humble utterance of his name.
And the old man marvelled not a little at his
so evident grace and was the more astonished
at him because he saw that he had on a secular
dress ; and so began carefully to ask of him
iiie manner of his life and pursuit. And when
he said that he was living in the world and
bound by the ties of marriage, the blessed John,
considering in his mind the greatness of his
virtue and grace, searched out still more care-
fully what his manner of life might be. He
declared that he was a countryman, and that he
sought his food by the daily toil of his hands,
and was not conscious of anything good about
him except that he never went forth to his
work in the fields in the morning nor came
home in the evening without having returned
thanks in Church for the food of his daily life,
to God Who gave it ; and that he had never
used any of his crops without having first offered
to God their first fruits and tithes ; and that
he had never driven his oxen over the bounds
of another's harvest without having first muzzled
them that his neighbour might not sustain the
slightest loss through his carelessness. And

when these things did not seem to Abbot John
sufficient to procure such grace as that with
which he saw that he was endowed, and he
inquired of him and investigated what it was
which could be connected with the merits of
such grace, he was induced by respect for such
anxious inquiries to confess that, when he
wanted to be professed as a monk, he had been
compelled by force and his parents' command,
twelve years before to take a wife, who, with-
out any body to that day being aware of it, was
kept by him as a virgin in the place of a sister.
And when the old man heard this, he was so
overcome with admiration that he announced
publicly in his presence that it was not without
good reason that the devil who had scorned
him himself, could not endure the presence of
this man, whose virtue he himself, not only in
the ardour of youth, but even now, would not
dare to aim at without risk of his chastity.
And though Abbot John would tell this story
with the utmost admiration, yet he never ad-
vised any monk to try this plan as he knew
that many things which are rightly done by
some involved others who imitate them in great
danger, and that that cannot be tried by all,
which the Lord bestowed upon a few by a
special gift.

CHAPTER Vni.

Of spiritual knowledge.

But to return to the explanation of the
knowledge from which our discourse took its
rise. Thus, as we said above, practical know-
ledge is distributed among many subjects and
interests, but theoretical is divided into two
parts, i.e., the historical interpretation and the
spiritual sense. Whence also Solomon when
he had summed up the manifold grace of the
Church, added: "for all who are with her are
clothed with double garments." ^ But of spiri-
tual knowledge there are three kinds, tropologi-
cal, allegorical, anagogical,'^ of which we read
as follows in Proverbs : " But do you describe
these things to yourself in three ways accordiiag

1 Prov. xxxi. 21 (LXX.).

- The meaning of the four senses of Scripture here spoken of ;
viz., the historical, tropological, allegorical, and anagogical, is well
summed up in these lines :

Litera, gesta docet ; quid credas, allegoria ;

Moralis, quid agas ; quo tendas anagogia.
Or, as the lines are sometimes given :

Litera scripta docet ; quod credas, allegoria ;

Quod speres, anagoge : quid agas, tropologia.
Roth Origen and Jerome had spoken of the threefold sense of
Scripture, referring to the LXX. rendering of Proverbs xxii. 20
(which Cassian quotes below) : but in general the Latin Fathers, and
the Schoolmen after tliem, separated the third of Origen's senses ;
viz., the spiritual, into two, the allegorical and the anagogical : and
so the " fourfold " sense became the established method of interpre-
tation in the West.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

to the largeness of your heart."' ^ And so the
history embraces the knowledge of things past
and visible, as it is repeated in this way by the
Apostle : " For it is written that Abraham had
two sons, the one by a bondwoman, the other by
a free : but he who was of the bondwoman was
born after the fiesh, but he who was of the free
was by promise." But to the allegory belongs
what follows, for what actually happened is said
to have prefigured the form of some mystery :
"For these," says he, "are the two covenants,
the one from Mount Sinai, which gendereth
into bondage, which is Agar. For Sinai is a
mountain in Arabia, which is compared to Je-
rusalem which now is, and is in bondage with
her children." But the anagogical sense rises
from spiritual mysteries even to still more sub-
lime and sacred secrets of heaven, and is sub-
joined by the Apostle in these words : " But
Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the
mother of us. For it is written, Rejoice, thou
barren that bearest not, break forth and cry,
thou that travailest not, for many are the chil-
dren of the desolate more than of her that hath
an husband." ^ The tropological sense is the
moral explanation which has to do with im-
provement of life and practical teaching, as if
we were to understand by these two cove-
nants practical and theoretical instruction, or
at any rate as if we were to want to take Jeru-
salem or Sion as the soul of man, according to
this : " Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem : praise
thy God, O Sion." ^ And so these four pre-
viously mentioned figures coalesce, if we desire,
in one subject, so that one and the same Jeru-
salem can be taken in four senses : historically,
as the city of the Jews ; allegorically as the
Church of Christ, anagogically as the heavenly
city of God "which is the mother of us all,"
tropologically, as the soul of man, which is
frequently subject to praise or blame from the
Lord under this title. Of these four kinds of
interpretation the blessed Apostle speaks as
follows : " But now, brethren, if I come to you
speaking with tongues what shall I profit you
unless I speak to you either by revelation or by
knowledge or by prophecy or by doctrine ? " ^
For "revelation" belongs to allegory whereby
what is concealed under the historical narra-
tive is revealed in its spiritual sense and inter-
pretation, as for instance if we tried to expound
how "all our fathers were under the cloud and
were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and
in the sea," and how they "all ate the same
spiritual meat and drank the same spiritual
drink from the rock that followed them. But
the rock was Christ." ^ And this explanation
where there is a comparison of the figure of

the body and blood of Christ which we receive
[ daily, contains the allegorical sense. But the
knowledge, which is in the same way men-
I tioned by the Apostle, is tropological, as by it
we can by a careful study see of all things that
have to do with practical discernment whether
they are useful and good, as in this case, when
we are told to judge of our own selves " whether
it is fitting for a woman to pray to God with
her head uncovered." ^ And this system, as has
been said, contains the moral meaning. So
" prophecy " which the Apostle puts in the third
place, alludes to the anagogical sense by
which the words are applied to things future
and invisible, as here : " But we would not have
you ignorant, brethren, concerning those that
sleep : that ye be not sorry as others also who
have no hope. For if we believe that Christ
died and rose again, even so them also which
sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him. For
this we say to you by the word of God, that we
which are alive at the coming of the Lord shall
not prevent those that sleep in Christ, for the
Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with
a shout, with the voice of the archangel and
with the trump of God ; and the dead in Christ
shall rise first." "^ In which kind of exhorta-
tion the figure of anagoge is brought forward.
But " doctrine " unfolds the simple course of
historical exposition, under which is contained
no more secret sense, but what is declared by
the very words : as in this passage : " For I
delivered unto you first of all what I also
received, how that Christ died for our sins
according to the Scriptures, and that He was
buried, and that He rose again on the third
day, and that he was seen of Cephas ; " ^ and :
" God sent His Son, made of a woman, made
under the law, to redeem them that were under
the law ; " '^ or this : " Hear, O Israel, the Lord
the God is one Lord." ^^

CHAPTER IX.

How from practical knowledge we must proceed to spiritual.

Wherefore if you are anxious to attain to
the light of spiritual knowledge, not wrongly
for an idle boast but for the sake of being
made better men, you are first infiamed with
the longing for that blessedness, of which we
read : " blessed are the pure in heart for they
shall see God," " that you may also attain to
that of which the angel said to Daniel : " But
they that are learned shall shine as the splen-
dor of the firmament : and they that turn
many to righteousness as the stars for ever

1 Prov. xxii. 20 (LXX.).
* Gal. iv. 22-27.

* Ps. cxlvii. 12.

* I Cor. .\iv. 6.

I Cor. X. 1-4.

" I Cor. xi. 13.

' I Thess. iv. 12-15.

* I Cor. XV. 3-5.
3 Gal. iv. 4, 5.

•" Deut. vi. 4.

11 S. Matt. v.S

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

439

and ever ; " and in another prophet : " Enlighten
yourselves with the light of knowledge while
there is lime."" ^ And so keeping up that dili-
gence in reading, which I see that you have,
endeavour with all eagerness to gain in the
first place a thorough grasp of practical, i.e.,
ethical knowledge. For without this that the-
oretical purity of which we have spoken can-
not be obtained, which those only, who are
perfected not by the words of others who
teach them, but by the excellence of their own
actions, can after much expenditure of effort
and toil attain as a reward for it. For as they
gain their knowledge not from meditation on
the law but from the fruit of their labour,
they sing with the Psalmist : '' From Thy com-
mandments I have understanding ; " and hav-
ing overcome all their passions, they say with
confidence : " I will sing, and I will understand
in the undefiled way." - For he who is striving
in an undefiled way in the course of a pure
heart, as he sings the Psalm, understands the
words which are chanted. And therefore if
you would prepare in your heart a holy taber-
nacle of spiritual knowledge, purge yourselves
from the stain of all sins, and rid yourselves
of the cares of this world. For it is an im-
possibility for the soul which is taken up even
to a small extent with v/orldly troubles, to
gain the gift of knowledge or to become an
author of spiritual interpretation, and diligent
in reading holy things. Be careful therefore
in the first place, and especially you, John,
as your more youthful age requires you the
rather to be careful about what I am going to
say — that you may enjoin absolute silence on
your lips, in order that your zeal for reading
and the efforts of your purpose may not be
destroyed by vain pride. For this is the first
practical step towards learning, to receive the
regulations and opinions of all the Elders with
an earnest heart, and with lips that are dumb ;
and diligently to lay them up in your heart,
and endeavour rather to perform than to teach
them. For from teaching, the dangerous ar-
rogance of vainglory, but from performing,
the fruit of spiritual knowledge will flour-
ish. And so you should never venture to say
anything in the conference of the Elders un-
less some ignorance that might be injurious,
or a matter which it is important to know leads
you to ask a question ; as some who are puffed
up with vainglory, pretend that they ask, in
order really to show off the knowledge which
they perfectly possess. For it is an impossi-
bility for one, who takes to the pursuit of
reading with the purpose of gaining the praise
of men, to be rewarded with the gift of true

^ Dan. xii. 3; Hos. x. 12. ' Ps. cxviii. (c.xix.) 104; c. (ci.) i, 2.

knowledge.

For one who is bound by the
chain of this passion, is sure to be also in
bondage to other faults, and especially to that
of pride : and so if he is baffled by his en-
covniter with practical and ethical knowledge,
he will certainly not attain that spiritual know-
ledge which springs from it. Be then in all
things " swift to hear, but slow to speak," ^
lest there come upon you that which is noted
by Solomon : " If thou seest a man who is
quick to speak, know that there is more hope
of a fool than of him ; ^ and do not presume
to teach any one in words what you have not
already performed in deed. For our Lord
taught us by His own example that we ought
to keep to this order, as of Him it is said :
" what Jesus began to do and to teach." ^ Take
care then that you do not rush into teaching
before doing, and so be reckoned among the
number of those of whom the Lord speaks in
the gospel to the disciples : " What they say
unto you, that observe and do, but not after
their words : for they say and do not. But
they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be
borne, and lay them on men's shoulders ; but
they themselves will not move them with one
of their fingers." '^ For if he who shall "break
one of these commands, and shall teach men
so, shall be called least in the kingdom of
heaven," ' it follows that one who has dared to
despise many and greater commands and to
teach men so, shall certainly be considered
not least in the kingdom of heaven, but
greatest in the punishment of hell. And
therefore you must be careful not to be led on
to teach by the example of those who have
attained some skill in discussion and readi-
ness in speech and because they can discourse
on what they please elegantly and fully, are
imagined to possess spiritual knowledge, by
those who do not know how to distinguish its
real force and character. For it is one thing
to have a ready tongue and elegant language,
and quite another to penetrate into the very
heart and marrow of heavenly utterances and
to gaze with pure eye of the soul on profound
and hidden mysteries ; for this can be gained
by no learning of man's, nor condition of this
world, only by purity of soul, by means of the
illumination of the Holy Ghost.

CHAPTER X.

How to embrace the system of true knowledge.

You must then, if you want to get at the
true knowledge of the Scriptures, endeavour

' S. James i. 19.

Acts 1. r.

* Prov. xxix. 20 (Ixx.). " S. Matt, xxiii. 3, 4.

S. Matt. V. 19.

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first to secure steadfast humility of heart, to
carry you on by the perfection of love not to
the knowledge which puffeth up, but to that
which enlightens. For it is an impossibility
for an impure mind to gain the gift of spiritual
knowledge. And therefore with every possi-
ble care avoid this, lest through your zeal for
reading there arise in you not the light of
knowledge nor the lasting glory which is pro-
mised through the light that comes from learning
but only the instruments of your destruction
from vain arrogance. Next you must by all
means strive to get rid of all anxiety and worldly
thoughts, and give yourself over assiduously or
rather continuously, to sacred reading, until
continual meditation fills your heart, and fa-
shions you so to speak after its own likeness,
making of it, in a way, an ark of the testimony,^
which has within it two tables of stone, i.e.,
the constant assurance of the two testaments ; -
and a golden pot, i.e., a pure and undefiled
memory which preserves by a constant tenacity
the manna stored up in it, i.e., the enduring
and heavenly sweetness of the spiritual sense
and the bread of angels ; moreover also the
rod of Aaron, i.e., the saving standard of Jesus
Christ our true High Priest, that ever buds
with the freshness of immortal memory. For
this is the rod which after it had been cut from
the root of Jesse, died and flourished again
with a more vigorous life. But all these are
guarded by two Cherubim, i.e., the fulness of
historical and spiritual knowledge. For the
Cherubim mean a multitude of knowledge :
and these continually protect the mercy seat
of God, i.e., the peace of your heart, and over-
shadow it from all the assaults of spiritual
wickedness. And so your soul will be carried
forward not only to the ark of the Divine Cove-
nant, but also to the priestly kingdom, and
owing to its unbroken love of purity being as
it were engrossed in spiritual studies, will ful-
fil the command given to the priests, enjoined
as follows by the giver of the Law ; " And he
shall not go forth from the sanctuary, lest he
pollute the Sanctuary of God," ^ i.e., his heart,
in which the Lord promised that he would ever
dwell, saying: "I will dwell in them and will
walk among them." * Wherefore the whole
series of the Holy Scriptures should be dili-
gently committed to memory and ceaselessly
repeated. For this continual meditation will
bring us a twofold fruit : first, that while the
attention of the mind is taken up in reading
and preparing the lessons it cannot possibly

1 Cf Heb. ix. 4, S-

2 Instrumeiitum is a favourite word with TertiiUiati, who uses it
more than once of the two Testaments, c..c., Apol. xix. ; and,
Ajainst Marcion iv. where he speaks of the " Two Instruments, or,
as it is usual to speak, of the Two Testaments.''

■* Lev. xxi. 12. * 2 Cor. v. 16.

be taken captive in any snares of bad thoughts :
next that those things which were conned over
and frequently repeated and which while we were
trying to commit them to memory we could
not understand as the mind was at that time
taken up, we can afterward see more clearly,
when we are free from the distraction of all
acts and visions, and especially when we reflect
on them in silence in our meditation by night.
So that when we are at rest, and as it were
plunged in the stupor of sleep, there is re-
vealed to us the understanding of the most
secret meanings, of which in our waking hours
we had not the remotest conception.

CHAPTER XL

Of the manifold meaning of the Holy Scriptures.

But as the renewal of our soul grows by
means of this study. Scripture also will begin
to put on a new face, and the beauty of the
holier meanings will somehow grow with our
growth. For their form is adapted to the ca-
pacity of man's understanding, and will ap-
pear earthly to carnal people, and divine to
spiritual ones, so that those to whom it for-
merly appeared to be involved in thick clouds,
cannot apprehend its subtleties nor endure its
light. But to make this which we are aiming
at somewhat clearer by an instance, it will be
enough to produce a single passage of the
law, by which we can prove that all the
heavenly commands as well are applied to
men in accordance with the measure of our
state. For it is written in the law : " Thou
shalt not commit adultery." '^ This is rightly
observed according to the simple meaning of
the letter, by a man who is still in bondage to
foul passions. But by one who has already
forsaken these dirty acts and impure aficctions,
it must be observed in the spirit, so that he
may forsake not only the worship of idols but
also all heathen superstitions and the obser-
vance of auguries and omens and all signs and
days and times, or at any rate that he be not
entangled in the conjectures of words and
names which destroy the simplicity of our
faith. For by fornication of this kind we read
that Jerusalem was defiled, as she committed
adultery " on every high hill and under every
green tree," ^ whom also the Lord rebuked by
the prophet, saying : " Let now the astrologers
stand and save thee, they that gazed at the
stars and counted the months, that from them
they might tell the things that shall come to
thee," "^ of which fornication elsewhere also

" Exod. XX. 14.

" Jer. iii. 6.

7 Is. xlvii.

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441

the Lord says in rebuking them : " The spirit
of fornication deceived them, and they went
a whoring from their God." ^ But one who
has forsaken both these kinds of fornication,
will have a third kind to avoid, which is con-
tained in the superstitions of the law and of
Judaism ; of which the Apostle says : " Ye ob-
serve days and months and times and years; "
and again : " Touch not, taste not, handle
not." '" And there is no doubt that this is said
of the superstitions of the law, into which one
who has fallen has certainly gone a whoring
from Christ, and is not worthy to hear this
from the Apostle : " For I have espoused you
to one husband, to exhibit you as a chaste vir-
gin to Christ." ^ But this that follows will be
directed to him by the words of the same
Apostle : " But I am afraid lest as the serpent
by his cunning deceived Eve, so your minds
should be corrupted and fall from the simpli-
city which is in Christ Jesus." * But if one has
escaped the uncleanness even of this fornica-
tion there will still be a fourth, which is com-
mitted by adulterous intercourse with heretical
teaching. Of which too the blessed Apostle
spaaks : " I know that after my departure grie-
vous wolves shall enter in among you, not spa-
ring the flock, and of yourselves also shall arise
men speaking perverse things so as to lead
astray the disciples after them." ^ But if a man
has succeeded in avoiding even this, let him
beware lest he fall by a more subtle sin into
the guilt of fornication. I mean that which
consists in wandering thoughts, because every
thought which is not only shameful but even
idle, and departing in however small a degree
from God is regarded by the perfect man as
the foulest fornication.

CHAPTER XII.

A question how we can attiin to forgetfulness of the cares of
this world.

Upon this I was at first moved by a secret
emotion, and then groaned deeply and said,
All these things which you have set forth so
fully have affected me with still greater despair
than that which I had previously endured : as
besides those general captivities of the soul
whereby I doubt not that weak people are
smitten from without, a special hindrance to
salvation is added by that knowledge of litera-
ture which I seem already to have in some
slight measure attained, in which the efforts of
my tutor, or my attention to continual reading
have so weakened me that now my mind is

1 Hoa. iv. 12. ^ 2 Cor. xi. 2. ^ Acts xx. 29, 30.

2 Gal. iv. 10 ; Col. ii. 21. ^ Id. ver. 3.

filled with those songs of the poets so that
even at the hour of prayer it is thinking about
those trifling fables, and the stories of battles
with which from its earliest infancy it was stored
by its childish lessons: and when singing I'salms
or askin'g forgiveness of sins cither some wan-
ton recollection of the poems intrudes itself or
the images of heroes fighting presents itself
before the eyes, and an imagination of such
phantoms is always tricking me and does not
sufi^er my soul to aspire to an insight into
things above, so that this cannot be got rid of
by my daily lamentations.

CHAPTER XIII.

Of the method by which we can remove the dross from our

memory.

Nesteros : From this very fact, from which
there springs up for you the utmost despair
of your purification, a speedy and effectual
remedy may arise if only you will transfer to
the reading of and meditation upon the wri-
tings of the Spirit, the same diligence and
earnestness which you say that you showed in
those secular studies of yours. For your
mind is sure to be taken up with those poems
until it is gaining with the same zeal and
assiduity other matters for it to reflect upon,
and is in labour with spiritual and divine things
instead of unprofitable earthly ones. But
when these are thoroughly and entirely con-
ceived and it has been nourished upon them,
then by degrees the former thoughts can be
expelled and utterly got rid of. For the mind
of man cannot be emptied of all thoughts, and
so as long as it is not taken up with spiritual
interests, is sure to be occupied with what it
learnt long since. For as long as it has no-
thing to recur to and exercise itself upon un-
weariedly, it is sure to fall back upon what it
learnt in childhood, and ever to think about
what it took in by long use and meditation. In
order then that this spiritual knowledge may
be strengthened in you with a lasting stead-
fastness, and that you may not enjoy it only
for a time like those who just touch it not by
their own exertions but at the recital of another,
and, if I may use the expression, perceive its
scent in the air ; but that it may be laid up in
your heart, and deeply noted in it, and tho-
roughly seen and handled, it is well for )^ou to
use the utmost care in securing that, even if
perhaps you hear things that you know very
well produced in the Conference, you do not
regard them in a scornful and disdainful way
because you already know them, but that you
lay them to your heart with the same eagerness,

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with which the words of salvation which we are
longing for ought to be constantly poured into
our ears or should ever proceed from our lips.
For although the narration of holy things be
often repeated, yet in a mind that feels a
thirst for true knowledge the satiety will never
create disgust, but as it receives it every day
as if it were something new and what it wanted,
however often it may have taken it in, it will
so much the more eagerly either hear or speak,
and from the repetition of these things will gain
confirmation of the knowledge it already pos-
sesses, rather than weariness of any sort from
the frequent Conference. For it is a sure sign
of a mind that is cold and proud, if it receives
with disdain and carelessness the medicine of
the words of salvation, although it be offered
with the zeal of excessive persistence. For " a
soul that is full jeers at honeycomb : but to a
soul that is in want even little things appear
sweet." ^ And so if these things have been
carefully taken in and stored up in the recesses
of the soul and stamped with the seal of silence,
afterwards like some sweet scented wine that
maketh glad the heart of man, they will, when
mellowed by the antiquity of the thoughts and
by long-standing patience, be brought forth
from the jar of your heart with great fragrance,
and like some perennial fountain will flow abun-
dantly from the veins of experience and irriga-
ting channels of virtue and will pour forth
copious streams as if from some deep well in
your heart. For that will happen in your case,
which is spoken in Proverbs to one who has
achieved this in his work : " Drink waters from
your own cisterns and from the fount of your
own wells. Let waters from your own foun-
tain flow in abundance for you, but let your
waters pass through into your streets." ^ And
according to the prophet Isaiah : " Thou shalt
be like a watered garden, and like a fountain
of water whose waters shall not fail. And the
places that have been desolate for ages shall
be built in thee ; thou shalt raise up the foun-
dations of generation and generation ; and thou
shalt be called the repairer of the fences, turn-
ing the paths into rest." ^ And that blessed-
ness shall come upon thee which the same
prophet promises : " And the Lord will not cause
thy teacher to flee away from thee any more,
and thine eyes shall see thy teacher. And thine
ears shall hear the word of one admonishing
thee behind thy back : This is the way, walk
ye in it, and go not aside either to the right
hand or to the left.' ^ And so it will come to
pass that not only every purpose and thought
of your heart, but also all the wanderings and

rovings of your imagination will become to you
a holy and unceasing pondering of the Divine
law.

CHAPTER XIV.

How an unclean soul can neither give nor receive spiritual
knowledge.

_ But it is, as we have already said, impos-
sible for a novice either to understand or to
teach this. For if one is incapable of receiving
it how can he be fit to pass it on to another .?
But if he has had the audacity to teach any-
thing on these matters, most certainly his words
will be idle and useless and only reach the ears
of his hearers, without being able to touch their
hearts, uttered as they were in sheer idleness
and unfruitful vanity, for they do not proceed
from the treasure of a good conscience, but
from the empty impertinence of boastfulness.
For it is impossible for an impure soul (how-
ever earnestly it may devote itself to reading)
to obtain spiritual knowledge. For no one
pours any rich ointment or fine honey or any
precious liquid into a dirty and stinking vessel.
For a jar that has once been filled with foul
odours spoils the sweetest myrrh more readily
than it receives any sweetness or grace from it,
for what is pure is corrupted much more quickly
than what is corrupt is purified. And so the
vessel of our bosom unless it has first been
purified, from all the foul stains of sin will not
be worthy to receive that blessed ointment of
which it is said by the prophet : " Like the oint-
ment upon the head, which ran down upon the
beard of Aaron, which ran down upon the edge
of his garment," ^ nor will it keep undefiled
that spiritual knowledge and the words of Scrip-
ture which are " sweeter than honey and the
honeycomb." ^ " For what share hath right-
eousness with iniquity ? or what agreement
hath light with darkness ? or what concord
has Christ with Belial?'""

CHAPTER XV.

An objection owing to the fact that many impure persons
have knowledge while saints have not.

Germanus : This assertion does not seem
to us founded on truth, or based on solid rea-
soning. For if it is clear that all who either
never receive the faith of Christ at all or who
corrupt it by the wicked sin of heresy, are of
unclean hearts, how is it that many Jews and
heretics, and Catholics also who are entangled

* Prov. xxvii. 7.

* Prov. V. 15, 16.

' Is. Iviii. II, 12.
< Is. XXX. 20, 21.

5 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 2. ^ Ps. xviii. (xix ) 11. 7 2 Cor. vi. 14, 15.

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443

in various sins, have acquired perfect know-
ledge of the Scriptures and boast of the great-
ness of their spiritual learning, and on the other
hand countless swarms of saintly men, whose
heart has been purified from all stain of sin, [
are content with the piety of simple faith and
know nothing of the mysteries of a deeper
knowledge ? How then will that opinion stand,
which attributes spiritual knowledge solely to
purity of heart ?

CHAPTER XVI.

The answer to the effect that bad men cannot possess true
knowledge.

Nesteros : One who does not carefully weigh
every word of the opinions uttered cannot
rightly discover the value of the assertion. For
we said to begin with that men of this sort only
possess skill in disputation and ornaments of
speech; but cannot penetrate to the very heart
of Scripture and the mysteries of its spirit-
ual meanings. For true knowledge is only
acquired by true worshippers of God; and
certainly this people does not possess it to
whom it is said: "Hear, O, foolish people,
thou who hast no heart : ye who having eyes
se3 not, and having ears, hear not." And
again: ," Because thou hast rejected know-
ledge, I also will reject thee from acting as
My priest." ^ For as it is said that in Christ
"all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge
are hid,"- how can we hold that he who has
scorned to find Christ, or, when He is found,
blasphemes Him with impious lips, or at least
defiles the Catholic faith by his impure deeds,
has acquired spiritual knowledge ? " For the
Spirit of God will avoid deception, and dwell-
eth not in a body that is subject to sin."^
There is then no way of arriving at spiritual
knowledge but this which one of the prophets
has finely described: " Sow to yourselves for
righteousness: reap the hope of life. Enlight-
en yourselves with the light of knowledge."*
First then we must sow for righteousness, i.e.,
by works of righteousness we must extend
practical perfection; next we mvist reap the
hope of life, i.e., by the expulsion of carnal
sins must gather the fruits of spiritual virtues;
and so we shall succeed in enlightening our-
selves with the light of knowledge. And the
Psalmist also sees that this system ought to be
followed, when he says : " Blessed are they that
are undefiled in the way : who walk in the law of
the Lord. Blessed are they that seek His tes-

1 Jer. V. 21 ; Hos. iv. 6.

2 Col. ii. 3.

3 Wisd. i. 4, 5.
* Hos. X. :2.

timonies." ^ For he does not say in the first
place : " Blessed are they that seek His testimo-
nies," and afterwards add: "Blessed are they
that are undefiled in the way; " but he begins
by saying: " l)lessed arc they that are unde-
filed in the way; " and by this clearly shows
that no one can properly come to seek God's
testimonies unless he first walks undefiled in
the Avay of Christ by his practical life. Those
therefore whom you mentioned do not possess
that knowledge which the impure cannot at-
tain, but ififvddn'u/uvt', i.e., what is falsely so-
called, of which the blessed Apostle speaks:
"O Timothy, keep that which is committed
to thee, avoiding profane novelties of words,
and oppositions of the knowledge that is
falsely so called; "** which is in the Greek
lug di'TideaFtg Trjc ipevdari/uov yvwafoig. Of those
then who seem to acquire some show of know-
ledge or of those who while they devote them-
selves diligently to reading the sacred volume
and to committing the Scriptures to memory,
yet forsake not carnal sins, it is well said in
Proverbs : " Like as a golden ring in a swine's
snout so is the beauty of an evil-disposed
woman."' For what does it profit a man to
gain the ornaments of heavenly eloquence and
the most precious beauty of the Scriptures if
by clinging to filthy deeds and thoughts he
destroys it by burying it in the foulest ground,
or defiles it by the dirty wallowing of his own
lusts? For the result will be that that which
is an ornament to those who rightly use it, is
not only unable to adorn them, but actually
becomes dirty by the increased filth and mud.
For "from the mouth of a sinner praise is not
comely; " ® as to him it is said by the prophet:
"Wherefore dost thou declare My righteous
acts, and takest My covenant in thy lips?"^
of souls like this, who never possess in any
lasting fashion the fear of the Lord of which
it is said : " the fear of the Lord is instruction
and wisdom," ■'° and yet try to get at the mean-
ing of Scripture by continual meditation on
them, it is appropriately asked in Proverbs:
" What use are riches to a fool ? For a sense-
less man cannot possess wisdom." " But so far
is this true and spiritual knowledge removed
from that worldly erudition, which is defiled
by the stains of carnal sins, that we know that
it has sometimes fiourished most grandly in
some who were without eloquence and almost
illiterate. And this is very clearly shown by
the case of the Apostles and many holy men,
who did not spread themselves out with an
empty show of leaves, but were bowed down
by the weight of the true fruits of spiritual

6 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) i, 2.
" I Tim. vi. 20.
' Prov. xi. 22.

* Ecclus. XV. 9.
» Ps. xlix. (1-) 16.

'" Prov. XV. 33.
11 Prov. xvii. 16.

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knowledcre : of whom it is written in the Acts
of the Apostles : " But when they saw the
boldness of Peter and John, and perceived
that they were ignorant and unlearned men,
they were astonished." ^ And therefore if you
are anxious to attain to that never-failing
fragrance, you must first strive with all your
might to obtain from the Lord the purity of
chastity. For no one, in whom the love of
carnal passions and especially of fornication
stiU holds sway, can acquire spiritual know-
ledge. For " in a good heart wisdom will
rest;" and: " He that feareth the Lord shall
find knowledge with righteousness."^ But
that we must attain to spiritual knowledge in
the order of which we have already spoken, we
are taught also by the blessed Apostle. For
when he wanted not merely to draw up a list
of all his own virtues, but rather to describe
their order, that he might explain which fol-
lows what, and which gives birth to what, after
some others he proceeds as follows: "In
watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in know-
ledge, in long suffering, in gentleness, in the
Holy Ghost, in love unfeigned."^ And by
this enumeration of virtues he evidently
meant to teach us that we must come from
watchings and fastings to chastity, from chas-
tity to knowledge, from knowledge to long suf-
ering, from long suffering to gentleness, from
gentleness to the Holy Ghost, from the Holy
Ghost to the rewards of love unfeigned.
When then by this system and in this order
you too have come to spiritual knowledge,
you will certainly have, as we said, not bar-
ren or idle learning but what is vigorous and
fruitful ; and the seed of the word of salvation
which has been committed by you to the
hearts of your hearers, will be watered by the
plentiful showers of the Holy Ghost that will
follow; and, according to this that the prophet
promised, "the rain will be given to your seed,
wherever you shall sow in the land, and the
bread of the corn of the land shall be most
plentiful and fat."*

CHAPTER XVn.

To whom the method of perfection should be laid open.

Take care too, when your riper age leads
you to teach, lest you be led astray by the
love of vainglory, and teach at random to
the most impure persons these things which
you have learnt not so much by reading as by
the effects of experience, and so incur what

' Acts iv. 13. 3 2 Cor. vi. 5, 6.

' Prov. xiv. 33 ; Ecclus. xxxii. 20. * Is. xxx. 23.

Solomon, that wisest of men, denounced:
"Attach not a wicked man to the pastures of
the just, and be not led astray by the fulness of
the belly," for "delicacies are not good for a
fool, nor is there room for wisdom where sense
is wanting: for folly is the more led on, because
a stubborn servant is not improved by words,
for even though he understands, he will not
obey." And "Do not say anything in the
ears of an imprudent man, lest haply he mock
at thy wise speeches."^ And "give not that
which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your
pearls before swine, lest haply they trample
them under foot and turn again and rend
you."^ It is right then to hide the mysteries
of spiritual meanings from men of this sort,
that you may effectually sing: "Thy words
have I hid within my heart: that 1 should
not sin against Thee."'' But you will per-
haps say : And to whom are the mysteries of
Holy Scripture to be dispensed? Solomon,
the wisest of men, shall teach you : " Giv^, says
he, strong drink to those who are in sorrow,
and give wine to drink, to those who are in
pain, that they may forget their poverty, and
remember their pain no more,"* i.e., to those
who in consequence of the punishment of their
past actions are oppressed with grief and sor-
row, supply richly the joys of spiritual know-
ledge like "wine that maketh glad the heart of
man," ® and restore them with the strong drink
of the word of salvation, lest haply they be
plunged in continual sorrow and a despair
that brings death, and so those who are of this
sort be "swallowed up in overmuch sorrow." •'°
But of those who remain in coldness and care-
lessness, and are smitten by no sorrow of
heart we read as follows: "For one who is
kindly and without sorrow, shall be in want."-'^
With all possible care therefore avoid being
puffed up with the love of vainglory, and so
failing to become a partaker with him whom
the prophet praises, "who hath not given his
money upon usury." ^^ ' For every one who,
from love of the praise of men dispenses the
words of God, of which it is said "the words
of the Lord are pure words, as silver tried by
the fire, purged from the earth, refined seven
times;" ^^ puts out his money upon usury, and
will deserve for this not merely no reward, but
rather punishment. For for this reason he
chose to use up his Lord's money that /le
might be the gainer from a temporal profit,
and not that the Lord, as it is written, might
"when He comes, receive His own with
usury. " "

5 Prov. xxiv. 15; xix. lo; xviii. 2 ; xxix. 19; xxiii. 9 (LXX.).
0 S. Matt. vii. 6. " Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15. '= Ps. xiv. (xv.) 5.

' Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) II. '"2 Cor. ii. 7. " Ps. xi. (xii.) 7.

» Prov. xxxi. 6, 7. " Prov. xiv. 23. ^* S. Matt. xxv. 27.

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445

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the reasons for which spiritual learning is unfruitful.

But it is certain that for two reasons the
teaching of spiritual things is ineffectual.
For either the teacher is commending what
he has no experience of, and is trying with
empty-sounding words to instruct his hearer,
or else the hearer is a bad man and full of
faults and cannot receive in his hard heart the
holy and saving doctrine of the spiritual man;
and of these it is said by the prophet: "For
the heart of this people is blinded, and their
ears are dull of hearing and their eyes have
they closed: lest at any time they should see
with their eyes and hear with their ears, and
understand with their heart and be converted
and I should heal them." ^

CHAPTER XIX.

How often even those who are not worthy can receive the
grace of tlie saving word.

But sometimes in the lavish generosity of
God in His Providence, "Who willeth all men
to be saved and to come to the knowledge of
the truth, '"^ it is granted that one who has
not shown himself by an irreproachable life
to be worthy of the preaching of the gospel
attains the grace. of spiritual teaching for the
good of many. But by what means the gifts
of healing are granted by the Lord for the
expulsion of devils it follows that we must in
a similar discussion explain, which as we are
going to rise for supper we will keep for the
evening, because that is always more effectually
grasped by the heart which is taken in by
degrees and without excessive bodily efforts.

XV.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

ON DIVINE GIFTS.

CHAPTER I.

Discourse of Abbot Nesteros on the threefold system of gifts.

After evening service we sat down together
on the mats as usual ready for the promised
narration : and when we had kept silence for
some little time out of reverence for the Elder,
he anticipated the silence of our respect by
such words as these. ' The previous order of
our discourse had brought us to the exposition
of the system of spiritual gifts, which we have
learnt from the tradition of the Elders is a
threefold one. The first indeed is for the
sake of healing, when the grace of signs ac-
companies certain elect and righteous men on
account of the merits of their holiness, as it
is clear that the apostles and many of the
saints wrought signs and wonders in accord-
ance with the authority of the Lord Who says :
'• Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the
lepers, cast out devils: freely ye have received,
freely give." ^ The second when for the edifi-
cation of the church or on account of the faith
of those who bring their sick, or of those who

1 Is. •<\.

2 S. Matt. X. 8.

are to be cured, the virtue of health proceeds
even from sinners and men unworthy of it. Of
whom the Saviour says in the gospel : " Many
shall say to Me in that day. Lord, Lord, have
we not prophesied in Thy name, and in Thy
name cast out devils, and in Thy name done
many mighty works? And then I will confess
to them, I never knew you : Depart from Me,
ye workers of iniquity." "^ And on the other
hand, if the faith of those who bring them or
of the sick is wanting, it prevents those on
whom the gifts of healing are conferred from
exercising their powers of healing. On which
subject Luke the Evangelist says: "And Jesus
could not there do any mighty work because of
their unbelief." ^ Whence also the Lord Him-
self says: "Many lepers were in Israel in the
days of Elisha the prophet, and none of them
was cleansed but Naaman the Syrian."*^ The
third method of healing is copied by the deceit
and contrivance of devils, that, w-hen a man
who is enslaved to evident sins is out of ad-
miration for his miracles regarded as a saint
and a servant of God, men may be persuaded

' I Tim. ii. 4.

* S. Matt, vii, 22, 23.

5 S. Mark vi. 5, 6.
' S. Luke iv. 27.

446

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to copy his sins and thus an opening being
made for cavilling, the sanctity of religion
may be brought into disgrace, or else that
he, who believes that he possesses the gift of
healing, may be puffed up by pride of heart
and so fall more grievously. Hence it is that
invoking the names of those, who, as they
know, have no merits of holiness or any spiri-
tual fruits, they pretend that by their merits
they are disturbed and made to flee from the
bodies they have possessed. Of which it says
in Deuteronomy: "If there rise up in the
midst of thee a prophet, or one who says that
he has seen a dream, and declare a sign and
a wonder, and that which he hath spoken
cometh to pass, and he say to thee: Let us
go and follow after other gods whom thou
knowest not, and let us serve them : thou shalt
not hear the words of that prophet or of that
dreamer, for the Lord thy God is tempting
thee that it may appear whether thou lovest
Him or not, with all thy heart and with all
thy soul."^ And in the gospel it says:
"There shall arise false Christs and false
prophets, and shall give great signs and won-
ders, so that, if it were possible, even the
elect should be led astray."^

CHAPTER n.

Wherein one ought to admire the saints.

Wherefore we never ought to admire those
who affect these things, for these powers,
but rather to look whether they are perfect
in driving out all sins, and amending their
ways, for this is granted to each man not
for the faith of some other, or for a variety
of reasons, but for his own earnestness, by
the action of God's grace. For this is prac-
tical knowledge which is termed by another
name by the Apostle; viz., love, and is by
the authority of the Apostle preferred to all
tongues of men and of angels, and to full
assurance of faith which can even remove
mountains, and to all knowledge, and pro-
phecy, and to the distribution of all one's
goods, and finally to the glory of martyrdom
itself. For when he had enumerated all kinds
of gifts and had said: "To one is given by
the Spirit the word of wisdom, to another
the word of knowledge, to another faith, to
another the gift of healing, to another the
working of miracles, etc. : " ^ when he was
going to speak about love notice how in a
few words he put it before all gifts: "And

' Deut. xiii. 1-3.

S. Matt. xxiv. 24.

3 I Cor. xii. 8-10.

yet," he says, "I show unto you a still more
excellent way."^ By which it is clearly
shown that the height of perfection and
blessedness does not consist in the perfor-
mance of those wonderful works but in the
purity of love. And this not without good
reason. For all those things are to pass away
and be destroyed, but love is to abide for
ever. And so we have never found that- those
works and signs were affected by our fathers :
nay, rather when they did possess them by
the grace of the Holy Spirit they would never
use them, unless perhaps extreme and un-
avoidable necessity drove them to do so.

CHAPTER HL

of a dead man raised to life by Abbot Macarius.

As also we remember that a dead man was
raised to life by Abbot Macarius who was the
first to find a home in the desert of Scete.^
For when a certain heretic who followed the
error of Eunomius was trying by dialectic
subtlety to destroy the simplicity of the
Catholic faith, and had already deceived a
large number of men, the blessed Macarius
was asked by some Catholics, who were
terribly disturbed by the horror of such an
upset, to set free the simple folk of all Egypt
from the peril of infidelity, and came for
this purpose. And when the heretic had
approached him with his dialectic art, and
wanted to drag him away in his ignorance to
the thorns of Aristotle, the blessed Macarius
put a stop to his chatter with apostolic
brevity, saying: "the kingdom of God is not
in word but in power. " *^ Let us go therefore
to the tombs, and let us invoke the name of
the Lord over the first dead man we find, and
let us, as it is written, "show our faith by our
works,"'' that by His testimony the manifest
proofs of a right faith may be shown, and we
may prove the clear truth not by an empty
discussion of words but by the power of
miracles and that judgment which cannot be
deceived. And when he heard this the heretic
was overwhelmed with shame before the peo-
ple who were present, and pretended for the
moment that he consented to the terms pro-
posed, and promised that he would come on
the morrow, but the next day when they were

* I Cor. xii. ■?!.

•'■' 'I'liis was tlie " Eg^'ptian," not the "Alexandrian" Macarius.
See the note on the Institutes, V. xii. The story is also given by Ru-
finus, History of the Monks, c. xxviii. ; as well as Sozomen, H. E. III.
xiv., and by both of these writers is expressly ascribed to the Egyp-
tian Macarius.

" I Cor. iv. 20. ■ Cf. S. James ii. 14.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

447

all in expectation who had come together
with greater eagerness to the appointed place,
owing to their desire for the spectacle, he
was terrified by the consciousness of his want
of faith, and lied away, and at once escaped
out of all Egypt. And when the blessed
Macarius had waited together with the peo-
ple till the ninth hour, and saw that he had
owing to his guilty conscience avoided him,
he took the people, who had been perverted
by him and went to the tombs determined
upon. Now in Egypt the overflow of the river
Nile has introduced this custom that, since
the whole breadth of that country is covered
for no small part of the year by the regular
flood of waters like a great sea so that there
is no means of getting about except by a
passage in boats, the bodies of the dead are
embalmed and stored away in cells an good
height up. For the soil of that land being
damp from the continual moisture prevents
them from burying them. For if it receives
any bodies buried in it, it is forced by the ex-
cessive inundations to cast them forth on its
surface. When then the blessed Macarius had
taken up his position by a most ancient corpse,
he said "O man, if that heretic and son of
perdition had come hither with me, and,
while he was standing by, I had exclaimed
and invoked the name of Christ my God, say
in the presence of these who were almost per-
verted by his fraud, whether you would have
arisen." Then he arose and replied with
words of assent. And then Abbot Macarius
asked him what he had formerly been when he
enjoyed life here, or in what age of men he had
lived, or if he had then known the name of
Christ, and he replied that he had lived under
kings of most ancient date, and declared that
in those days he had never heard the name of
Christ. To whom once more Abbot Maca-
rius: "Sleep," said he, "in peace with the
others in your own order, to be roused again
by Christ in the end." All this power then
and grace of his which was in him would per-
haps have always been hidden, unless the
needs of the whole province which was en-
dangered, and his entire devotion to Christ,
and unfeigned love, had forced him to perform
this miracle. And certainly it was not the
ostentation of glory but the love of Christ
and the good of all the people that wrung
from him the performance of it. As the
passage in the book of Kings shows us that
the blessed Elijah also did, who asked* that
fire might descend from heaven on the sacri-
fices laid on the pyre, for this reason that he
might set free the faith of the whole people
which was endangered by the tricks of the
false prophets.

CHAPTER IV.

Of the miracle which .\bbot Abraham wrought on the breasts
of a woman.

Why also need I mention the acts of Abbot
Abraham,^ who was surnamed unhw;^ i.e., the
simple, from the simplicity of his life and his
innocence. This man when he had gone from
the desert to Egypt for the harvest in the
season of Quinquagesiraa - was pestered with
tears and prayers by a woman who brought
her little child, already pining away and half
dead from lack of milk; he gave her a cup of
water to drink signed with the sign of the
cross; and when she had drunk it at once
most marvellously her breasts that had been
till then utterly dry flowed with a copious
%.bundance of milk.

CHAPTER V.

Of the cure of a lame man which the same saint wrought.

Or when the same man as he went to a
village was surrounded by mocking crowds,
who sneered at him and showed him a man
who was for many years deprived of the power
of walking from a contracted knee, and
crawled from a weakness of. long standing,
they tempted him and said, " Show us, father
Abraham, if you are the servant of God, and
restore this man to his former health, that we
may believe that the name of Christ, whom
you w^orship, is not vain." Then he at once
invoked the name of Christ, and stooped
down and laid hold of the man's withered
foot and pulled it. And immediately at his
touch the dried and bent knee was straight-
ened, and he got back the use of his legs,
which he had forgotten how to use in his long
years of weakness, and went away rejoicing.

CHAPTER VI.

How the merits of each man should not be judged by his
miracles.

And so these men gave no credit to them-
selves for their power of working such won-
ders, because they confessed that they were
done not by their own merits but by the
compassion of the Lord and with the words
of the Apostle they refused the human hon-

1 Possibly the same person as the author of Conference xxiv.
but nothing further appears to be known of him.

- i.e., the fifty days from Easter to Whitsuntide ; cf. the note on
the Institutes, II. xviii.

448

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

our offered out of admiration for their mir-
acles : '' Men and brethren, why marvel ye
at this, or why look ye on us as though by
our own power or holiness we had caused this j
man to walk." ^ Nor did they think that any
one should be renowned for the gifts and
marvels of God, but rather for the fruits of !
his own good deeds, which are brought about ■
by the efforts of his mind and the power of ,
his works. For often, as was said above, ;
men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning
the truth, both cast out devils and perform
thearreatest miracles in the name of the Lord. I
Of whom when the Apostles complained and]
said : " Master, we saw one casting out devils
in Thy name, and we forbade him because he
followeth not with us," though for the present
Christ replied to them "Forbid him not, for
he that is not against you is for you,"- stilly
when they say at the end : " Lord, Lord, have
we not in Thy name prophesied, and in Thy
name cast out devils, and in Thy name done
many mighty works ? " He testifies that then
He will answer: "I never knew you: depart
from me, ye workers of iniquity."^ And
therefore He actually warns those, to whom
He Himself has given this glory of miracles
and mighty works because of their holiness,
that they be not puffed up by them, saying :
" Rejoice not because the devils are subject
to you, but rejoice rather because your names
are written in heaven. " ^

CHAPTER Vn.

How the excellence of gifts consists not in miracles but in
humility.

Finally the Author Himself of all miracles
and mighty works, when He called His dis-
ciples to learn His teaching, clearly showed
what those true and specially chosen follow-
ers ought chiefly to learn from Him, saying:
"Come and learn of Me," not chiefly to cast
out devils by the power of heaven, not to
cleanse the lepers, not to give sight to the
blind, not to raise the dead: for even though
I do these things by some of My servants, yet
man's estate cannot insert itself into the
praises of God, nor can a minister and servant
gather hereby any portion for himself there
where is the glory of Deity alone. But do
ye, says He, learn this of Me, "for I am
meek and lowly of heart." ^ For this it is
which it is possible for all men generally to
learn and practise, but the working of miracles
and signs is not always necessary, nor good

' Acts ill. 12. = S. Matt. vii. 22, 23. " S. Matt. xi. 28, 29.

' S. Luke ix. 49, 50. * S. Luke x. 20.

for all, nor granted to all. Humility there-
fore is the mistress of all virtues, it is the
surest foundation of the heavenly building, it
is the special and splendid gift of the Saviour.
For he can perform all the miracles which
Christ wrought, without danger of being puffed
up, who follows the gentle Lord not in the
grandeur of His miracles, but in the virtues
of patience and humility. But he who aims
at commanding unclean spirits, or bestowing
gifts of healing, or showing some wonderful
miracle to the people, even though when he is
showing off he invokes the name of Christ,
yet he is far from Christ, because in his
pride of heart he does not follow his humble
Teacher. For when He was returning to
the Father, He prepared, so to speak. His
will and left this to His disciples: "A new
commandment," said He, "give I unto you
that ye love one another; as I have loved
you, so do ye also love one another : " and at
once He subjoined: "By this shall all men
know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love
to one another."*^ He says not: "if ye do
signs and miracles in the same way," but:
"if ye have love to one another;" and this
it is certain that none but the meek and
humble can keep. Wherefore our predeces-
sors never reckoned those as good monks or
free from the fault of vainglory, who pro-
fessed themselves exorcists among men, and
proclaimed with boastful ostentation among
admiring crowds the grace which they had
either obtained or which they claimed. But
in vain, for "he who trusteth in lies feedeth
the winds: and the same runneth after birds
that fly away."'' For without doubt that will
happen to them which we find in Proverbs:
"As the winds and clouds and rain are very
clear so are these who boast of a fictitious
gift."* And so if any one does any of these
things in our presence, he ought to meet with
commendation from us not from admiration
of his miracles, but from the beauty of his life,
nor should we ask whether the devils are sub-
'ject to him, but whether he possesses those
features of love which the Apostle describes.

CHAPTER VHL

How it is more wonderful to have cast out one's faults from
one's self than devils from another.

And in truth it is a greater miracle to root
out from one's own flesh the incentives to
wantonness than to cast out unclean spirits
from the bodies of others, and it is a grander
sign to restrain the fierce passions of anger

6 S. John xiii. 34, 35. '' Prov. x. 4. 8 Prov. xxv. 14.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS.

449

by the virtue of patience than to command
the powers of the air, and it is a greater thing
to have shut out the devouring pangs of
gloominess from one's own heart than to have
expelled the sickness of another and the fever
of his body. Finally it is in many ways a
grander virtue and a more splendid achieve-
ment to cure the weaknesses of one's own
soul than those of the body of another. For
just as the soul is higher than the flesh, so is
its salvation of more importance, and as its
nature is more precious and excellent, so is its
destruction more grievous and dangerous.

CHAPTER IX.

How uprightness of life is of more importance than the
working of miracles.

And of those cures it was said to the blessed
Apostles: "Rejoice not that the devils are
subject to you"-' For this was wrought not
by their own power, but by the might of the
name invoked. And therefore they are warned
not to presume to claim for themselves any
blessedness or glory on this account as it
was done simply by the power and might of
God, but only on account of the inward purity
of their life and heart, for which it was vouch-
safed to them to have their names written in
heaven.

CHAPTER X.

A revelation on the trial of perfect chastity.

And to prove this that we have said both
by the testimony of the ancients and divine
oracles, we had better bring forward in his
own words and experience what the blessed
Paphnutius '" felt on the subject of admira-
tion of miracles and the grace of purity, or
rather what he learnt from the revelation of
an angel. For this man had been famous
for many years for his signal strictness so that
he fancied that he was completely free from
the snares of carnal concupiscence because
he felt himself superior to all the attacks of
the demons with whom he had fought openly
and for a long while; and when some holy
men had come to him, he was preparing for
them a porridge of lentiles which they call
Athera,^ and his hand, as it happened, was

1 S. Luke X. 20. - Cf. the note on Conferences III. i.

^ Ai/iera. This is noticed by Pliny (Hist. Nat.xxii. 25, 57,§i2i)
as the Egyptian name for a decoction made from grain.

burnt in the oven, by a flame that darted up.
And when this happened he was much morti-
fied and began silently to consider with him-
self, and ask why was not the fire at peace
with me, when my more serious contests with
demons have ceased? or how will that un-
quenchable fire which searches out the deserts
of all pass me by in that dread day of judg-
ment, and fail to detain me, if this trivial
temporal fire from without has not spared me?
And as he was troubled by thoughts of this
kind and vexation a sudden sleep overcame
him and an angel of the Lord came to him
and said : " Paphnutius, why are you vexed
because that earthly fire is not yet at peace
with you, while there still remains in your
members some disturbance of carnal motions
that is not completely removed? For as long
as the roots of this flourish within you, they
will not suffer that material fire to be at peace
with you. And certainly you could not feel
it harmless unless you found by such proofs
as these that all these internal motions within
you were destroyed. Go, take a naked and
most beautiful virgin, and if while you hold
her you find that the peace of your heart re-
mains steadfast, and that carnal heat is still
and quiet within you, then the touch of this
visible flame also shall pass over you gently
and without harming you as it did over the
three children in Babylon. " And so the Elder
was impressed by this revelation and did not
try the dangers of the experiment divinely
shown to him, but asked his own conscience
and examined the purity of his heart; and,
guessing that the weight of purity was not yet
sufficient to outweigh the force of this trial, it
is no wonder, said he, if when the battles with
unclean spirits come upon me, I still feel the
flames of the fire, which I used to think of
less importance than the savage attacks of
demons, still raging against me. Since it is
a greater virtue and a grander grace to extin-
guish the inward lust of the flesh than by the
sign of the Lord ^ and the power of the might
of tJie Most High to subdue the wicked de-
mons which rush upon one from without, or
to drive them by invoking the Divine name
from the bodies which they have possessed.
So far Abbot Nesteros, finishing the account
of the true working of the gifts of grace ac-
companied us to the cell of the Elder Joseph
which was nearly six miles distant from
his, as we were eager for instruction in his
doctrine.

e., the sign of the cross.

450

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XVI.

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

ON FRIENDSHIP.

CHAPTER I.

What Abbot Joseph asked us in the first instance.

The blessed Joseph,^ whose instructions
and precepts are now to be set forth, and who
was one of the three whom we mentioned in
the first Conference,- belonged to a most illus-
trious family, and was the chief man of his
city in Egypt, which was named Thmuis,^ and
so was carefully trained in the eloquence
of Greece as well as Egypt, so that he could
talk admirably with us or with those who were
utterly ignorant of Egyptian, not as the others
did through an interpreter, but in his own
person. And when he found that we were
anxious for instruction from him, he first
inquired whether we were own brothers, and
when he heard that we were united in a tie of
spiritual and not carnal brotherhood, and that
from the first commencement of our renuncia-
tion of the world we had always been joined
together in an unbroken bond as well in our
travels, which we had both undertaken for the
sake of spiritual service, as also in the pur-
suits of the monastery, he began his discourse
as follows.

CHAPTER n.

Discourse of the same elder on the untrustwortliy sort of
friendship.

There are many kinds of friendship and
companionship which unite men in very differ-
ent ways in the bonds of love. For some a
previous recommendation makes to enter upon
an intercourse first of acquaintance and after-
wards even of friendship. In the case of
others some bargain or an agreement to give
and take something has joined them in the
bonds of love. Others a similarity and union
of business or science or art or study has united

1 Nothing furtlier appears to be known of this Joseph than what
Cassian here states.

2 viz., \\\^ first of the Second Part of the Conferences, i.e., Con-
ference XI. ^ See on Conference XIV. c. iv.

in the chain of friendship, by which even
fierce souls become kindly disposed to each
other, so that those, who in forests and moun-
tains delight in robbery and revel in human
bloodshed, embrace and cherish the partners
of their crimes. But there is another kind of
love, where the union is from the instincts of
nature and the laws of consanguinity, whereby
those of the same tribe, wives and parents,
and brothers and children are naturally pre-
ferred to others, a thing which we find is the
case not only with mankind but with all
birds and beasts. For at the prompting of a
natural instinct they protect and defend their
offspring and their young ones so that often
they are not afraid to expose themselves to
danger and death for their sakes. Indeed
those kinds of beasts and serpents and birds,
which are cut off and separated from all others
by their intolerable ferocity or deadly poison,
as basilisks, unicorns and vultures, though
by their very look they are said to be danger-
ous to every one, yet among themselves they
remain peaceful and. harmless owing to com-
munity of origin and fellow-feeling. But
we see that all these kinds of love of which
we have spoken, as they are common both to
the good and bad, and to beasts and serpents,
certainly cannot last for ever. For often sepa-
ration of place interrupts and breaks them off,
as well as forgetfulness from lapse of time,
and the transaction of affairs and business
and words. For as they are generally due to
different kinds of connexions either of gain,
or desires, or kinship, or business, so when
any occasion for separation intervenes they
are broken off.

CHAPTER HI.

How friendship is indissoluble.

Among all these then there is one kind of
love which is indissoluble, where the union is
owing: not to the favour of a recommendation,
or some great kindness or gifts, or the reason

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

451

of some bargain, or the necessities of nature,
but simply to similarity of virtue. This, I
say, is what is broken by no chances, what no
interval of time or space can sever or destroy,
and what even death itself cannot part. This
is true and unbroken love which grows by
means of the double perfection and goodness
of friends, and which, when once its bonds
have been entered, no difference of liking
and no disturbing opposition of wishes can
sever. But we have known many set on this
purpose, who though they had been joined
together in companionship out of their burn-
ing love for Christ, yet could not maintain it
continually and unbrokenly, because although
they relied on a good beginning for their
friendship, yet they did not with one and the
same zeal maintain the purpose on which they
had entered, and so there was between them a
sort of love only for a while, for it was not main-
tained by the goodness of both alike, but by the
patience of the one party, and so although it is
held to by the one with unwearied heroism,
yet it is sure to be broken by the pettiness of
the other. For the infirmities of those who
are somewhat cold in seeking the healthy con-
dition of perfection, however patiently they
may be borne by the strong, are yet not put
up with by those who are weaker themselves.
For they have implanted within them causes
of disturbance which do not allow them to be
at ease, just as those, who are affected by
bodily weakness, generally impute the deli-
cacy of their stomach and weak health to the
carelessness of their cooks and servants, and
however carefully their attendants may serve
them, yet nevertheless they ascribe the grounds
of their upset to those who are in good health,
as they do not see that they are really due to the
failure of their own health. Wherefore this,
as we said, is the sure and indissoluble union
of friendship, where the tie consists only in
likeness in goodness. For "the Lord maketh
men to be of one mind in an house." ^ And
therefore love can only continue undisturbed
in those in whom there is but one purpose and
mind to will and to refuse the same things.
And if you also wish to keep this unbroken,
you must be careful that having first got rid
of your faults, you mortify your own desires,
and with united zeal and purpose diligently
fulfil that in which the prophet specially de-
lights: "Behold how good and joyful a thing
it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." ^
Which should betaken of unity of spirit rather
than of place. For it is of no use for those
who differ in character and purpose to be
united in one dwelling, nor is it an hindrance

1 Ps. Ixvii. (Ixviii.) 7.

2 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) i.

for those who are grounded on equal goodness
to be separated by distance of place. For
with God the union of character, not of place,
joins brethren together in a common dwelling,
nor can unruffied peace ever be maintained
where difference of will appears.

CHAPTER IV.

A question whether anything that is really useful should
be performed even against a brother's wish.

Germanus: What then? If when one
party wants to do something which he sees is
useful and profitable according to the mind
of God, the other does not give his consent,
ought it to be performed even against the wish
of the brother, or should it be thrown on one
side as he wants ?

CHAPTER V.

The answer, how a lasting friendship can only exist among
those who are perfect.

Joseph: For this reason we said that the
full and perfect grace of friendship can only
last among those who are perfect and of equal
goodness, whose likemindedness and common
purpose allows them either never, or at any
rate hardly ever, to disagree, or to differ in
those matters which concern their progress in
the spiritual life. But if they begin to get
hot with eager disputes, it is clear that they
have never been at one in accordance with the
rule which we gave above. But because no
one can start from perfection except one who
has begun from the very foundation, and your
inquiring is not with regard to its greatness,
but as to how you can attain to it, I think it
well to explain to you, in a few words, the
rule for it and the sort of path along which
your steps should be directed, that you may
be able more easily to secure the blessing of
patience and peace.

CHAPTER VI.

By what means union can be preserved unbroken.

The first foundation then, of true friend-
ship consists in contempt for worldly sub-
stance and scorn for all things that we possess.
For it is utterly wrong and unjustifiable if,
after the vanity of the world and all that is
in it has been renounced, whatever miserable
furniture remains is more regarded than what
is most valuable; viz., the love of a brother.

452

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The second is for each man so to prune his
own wishes that he may not imagine himself
to be a wise and experienced person, and so
prefer his own opinions to those of his neigh-
♦bour. The third is for liim to recognize that
everything, even what he deems useful and
necessary, must come after the blessing of
love and peace. The fourth for him to realize
that he should never be angry for any reason
good or bad. .The fifth for him to try-to cure
any wrath which a brother may have conceived
against him however unreasonably, in the
same way that he would cure his own, know-
ing that the vexation of another is equally
bad for him, as if he himself were stirred
against another, unless he removes it, to the
best of his ability, from his brother's mind.
The last is what is undoubtedly generally
decisive in regard to all faults; viz., that
he should realize daily that he is to pass
away from this world; as the realization of
this not only permits no vexation to linger in
the heart, but also represses all the motions
of lusts and sins of all kinds. Whoever then
has got hold of this, can neither suffer nor be
the cause of bitter wrath and discord. But
when this fails, as soon as he who is jealous
of love has little by little infused the poison
of vexation in the hearts of friends, it is cer-
tain that owing to frequent quarrels love will
gradually grow cool, and at sometime or other
he will part the hearts of the lovers, that have
been for a long while exasperated. For if one
is walking along the course previously marked
out, how can he ever differ from his friend,
for if he claims nothing for himself, he en-
tirely cuts off the first cause of quarrel (which
generally springs from trivial things and most
unimportant matters), as he observes to the
best of his power what we read in the Acts
of the Apostles on the unity of believers:
"But the multitude of believers was of one
heart and soul; neither did any of them say
that any of the things which he possessed was
his own, but they had all things common."^
Then how can any seeds of discussion arise
from him who serves not his own but his
brother's will, and becomes a follower of his
Lord and Master, who speaking in the cha-
racter'^ of man which He had taken, said: "I
am not come to do Mine own will, but the
will of Him that sent Me? " ^ But how can he
arouse any incitement to contention, who has
determined to trust not so much to his own
judgment as to his brother's decision, on his
own intelligence and meaning, in accordance
with his will either approving or disapproving
his discoveries, and fulfilling in the humility

' Acts iv. 32. - Ex persona. See note on VIII. xxxv.

^ S. John vi. 38.

of a pious heart these words from the Gospel :
"Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou
wilt."^ Or in what way will he admit any-
thing which grieves the brother, who thinks
that nothing is more precious than the bles-
sing of peace, and never forgets these words of
the Lord: "By this shall all men know that
ye are My disciples, that ye love one an-
other;"^ for by this, as by a special mark,
Christ willed that the flock of His sheep
should be known in this world, and be sepa-
rated from all others by this stamp, so to
speak.? But on what grounds will he endure
either to admit the rancour of vexation in
himself or for it to remain in another, if his
firm decision is that there cannot be any good
ground for anger, as it is dangerous and
wrong, and that when his brother is angry with
him he cannot pray, in just the same way as
when he himself is angry with his brother, as
he ever keeps in an humble heart these words
of our Lord and Saviour: "If thou bring thy
gift to the altar and there remember that thy
brother hath aught against thee, leave there
thy gift at the altar, and go thy way; first be
reconciled to thy brother, and then come and
offer thy gift."" For it will be of no use for
you to declare that you are not angry, and to
believe that you are fulfilling the command
which says: " Let not the sun go down upon
thy wrath ; " and : " Whosoever is angry with
his brother, shall be in danger of the judg-
ment,"^ if you are with obstinate heart disre-
garding the vexation, of another which you
could smooth down by kindness on your part.
For in the same way you will be punished
for violating the Lord's command. For He
who said that you should not be angry with
another, said also that you should not disre-
gard the vexations of another, for it makes no
difference in the sight of God, "Who willeth
all men to be saved, "^ whether you destroy
yourself or someone else. Since the death of
any one is equally a loss to God, and at the
same time it is equally a gain to him to whom
all destruction is delightful, whether it is ac-
quired by your death or by the death of your
brother. Lastly, how can he retain even the
least vexation with his brother, who realizes
daily that he is presently to depart from this
world ?

CHAPTER VIL

How nothing should be put before love, or after anger.

As then nothing should be put before love,
so on the other hand nothing should be put

< S. Matt. xxvi. 39.
I"' S. Jiilin xiii. 35.
« S. iviatt. V. 23, 24.

' Eph. iv. 26 ; S. Matt. v. 22.
8 I Tim. ii. 4.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

453

below rage and anger. For all things, how-
ever useful and necessary they seem, should
yet be disregarded that disturbing anger may
be avoided, and all things even which we
think are unfortunate should be undertaken
and endured that the calm of love and peace
may be preserved unimpaired, because we
should reckon nothing more damaging than
anger and vexation, and nothing more advan-
tageous than love.

CHAPTER VIII.

On what grounds a dispute can arise among spiritual persons.

For as our enemy separates brethren who
are still weak and carnal by a sudden burst
of rage on account of some trifling and earthly
matter, so he sows the seeds of discord even
between spiritual persons, on the ground of
some difference of thoughts, from which cer-
tainly those contentions and strifes about
words, which the Apostle condemns, for the
most part arise: whereby consequently our
spiteful and malignant enemy sows discord
between brethren who were of one mind. For
these words of wise Solomon are true : " Con-
tention breeds hatred: but friendship will be
a defence to all who do not strive." ^

. CHAPTER IX.

How to get rid even of spiritual grounds of discord.

Wherefore for the preservation of lasting
and unbroken love, it is of no use to have
removed the first ground of discord, which
generally arises from frail and earthly things,
or to have disregarded all carnal things, and
to have permitted to our brethren an unre-
stricted share in everything which our needs
require, unless too we cut off in like manner
the second, which generally arises under the
guise of spiritual feelings; and unless we gain
in everything humble thoughts and harmonious
wills.

CHAPTER X.

On the best tests of truth.

For I remember, that when my youthful
age suggested to me to cling to a partner,
thoughts of this sort often mingled with our

1 Prov. X. 12.

moral training and the Holy Scriptures, so
that we fancied that nothing could be truer
or more reasonable: but wiien we came to-
gether and began to produce our ideas, in
the general discussion which was held, some'
things were first noted by the others as false
and dangerous, and then presently were con-
demned and pronounced by common consent
to be injurious; though before they had
seemed to shine as if with a light infused by
the devil, so that they would easily have
caused discord, had not the charge of the
Elders, observed like some divine oracle, re-
strained us from all strife, that charge ; namely,
whereby it was ordered by them almost with
the force of a law, that neither of us should
trust to his own judgments more than his
brother's, if he wanted never to be deceived
by the craft of the devil.

CHAPTER XL

How it is impossible for one who trusts to his own judgment
to escape being deceived by the devil's illusions.

For often it has been proved that what
the Apostle says really takes place. "For
Satan himself transforms himself into an
angel of light," ^ so that he deceitfully sheds
abroad a confusing and foul obscuration of the
thoughts instead of the true light of know-
ledge. And unless these thoughts are re-
ceived in a humble and gentle heart, and
kept for the consideration of some more expe-
rienced brother or approved Elder, and when
thoroughly sifted by their judgment, either
rejected or admitted by us, we shall be sure
to venerate in our thoughts an angel of dark-
ness instead of an angel of light, and be
smitten with a grievous destruction: an injury
which it is impossible for any one to avoid
who trusts in his own judgment, unless he
becomes a lover and follower of true humility
and with all contrition of heart fulfils what the
Apostle chiefly prays for: "If then there be
any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of
love, if any bowels of compassion, fulfil ye
my joy, that you be of one mind, having the
same love, being of one accord, doing nothing
by contention, neither by vainglory; but in
humility each esteeming others better than
themselves ; " and this : " in honour preferring
one another,"^ that each may think more of
the knowledge and holiness of his partner, and
hold that the better part of true discretion is
to be found in the judgment of another rather
than in his own.

* 2 Cor. xi. 14.

» Phil. ii. 1-3 ; Rom. xii. 10.

454

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER XII.

Why inferiors should not be despised in Conference.

For it often happens either by an illusion
of the devil or by the occurrence of a human
mistake (by which every man in this life is
liable to be deceived) that sometimes one
who is keener in intellect and more learned,
gets some wrong notion in his head, while he
who is duller in wits and of less worth, con-
ceives the matter better and more truly. And
therefore no one, however learned he may be,
should persuade himself in his empty vanity
that he cannot require conference with another.
For even if no deception of the devil blinds
his judgment, yet he cannot avoid the noxious
snares of pride and conceit. For who can
arrogate this to himself without great danger,
when the chosen vessel in whom, as he main-
tained, Christ Himself spoke, declares that he
went up to Jerusalem simply and solely for
this reason, that he might in a secret discus-
sion confer with his fellow-Apostles on the
gospel which he preached to the gentiles by
the revelation and co-operation of the Lord ?
By which fact we are shown that we ought not
only by these precepts to preserve unanimity
and harmony, but that we need not fear any
crafts of the devil opposing us, or snares of his
illusions.

CHAPTER XIII.

How love does not only belong to God but is God.

Finally so highly is the virtue of love ex-
tolled that the blessed Apostle John declares
that it not only belongs to God but that it is
God, saying: "God is love: he therefore that
abideth in love, abideth in God, and God in
him." ^ For' so far do we see that it is divine,
that we find that what the Apostle says is
plainly a living truth in us: "For the love of
God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy
Ghost Who dwelleth in us."- For it is the
same thing as if he said that God is shed
abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost Who
dwelleth in us: who also, when we know not
what we should pray for, " makes intercession
for us wiih groanings that cannot be uttered:
But He that searcheth the hearts knoweth
what the Spirit desireth, for He asketh for the
saints according to God."**

CHAPTER XIV.

On the different grades of love.

It is possible then for all to show that love
which is called 'i'/'ii);, of which the blessed
Apostle says: " While therefore we have time,
let us do good unto all men, but specially to
them that are of the household of faith."''
And this should be shown to all men in
general to such an extent that we are actually
commanded by our Lord to yield it to our
enemies, for He says: "Love your enemies." ^
But diddeaic, i.e., affection is shown to but
a few and those who are united to us by kin-
dred dispositions or by a tie of goodness;
though indeed affection seems to have many
degrees of difference. For in one way we love
our parents, in another our wives, in another
our brothers, in another our children, and there
is a wide difference in regard to the claims
of these feelings of affection, nor is the love of
parents towards their children always equal.
As is shown by the case of the patriarch Jacob,
who, though he was the father of twelve sons
and loved them all with a father's love, yet
loved Joseph with a deeper affection, as Scrip-
ture clearly shows : " But his brethren envied
him, because his father loved him ; " ^ evidently
not that that good man his father failed in
greatly loving the rest of his children, but that
in his affection he clung to this one, because he
was a type of the Lord, more tenderly and in-
dulgently. This also, we read, was very clearly
shown in the case of John the Evangelist,
where these words are used of him: "that
disciple whom Jesus loved," ^ though certainly
He embraced all the other eleven, whom He
had chosen in the same way, with His special
love, as this He shows also by the witness of
the gospel, where He says : " As I have loved
you, so do ye also love one another; " of whom
elsewhere also it is said: "Loving His own
who were in the world. He loved them even
to the end." ^ But this love of one in particu-
lar did not indicate any coldness in love for
the rest of the disciples, but only a fuller and
more abundant love towards the one, which his
prerogative of virginity and the purity of his
flesh bestowed upon him. And therefore it
is marked by exceptional treatment, as being
something more sublime, because no hateful
comparison with others, but a richer grace
of superabundant love singled it out. Some-
thing of this sort too we have in the character
of the bride in the Song of Songs, where she
says: "Set in order love in me."^ For this

' I John iv. i6.

2 Rom. V. 5.

3 Rom. viii. 26, 27.

* Gal. vi. 10.
0 S. Matt. V. 44-

0 Gen. xxxvii. 4.

' S. John xiii. 23.

8 /6. ver. 34, I.

9 Cant. ii. 4.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

455

is true love set in order, wliich, while it hates
no one, yet loves some still more by reason of
their deserving it, and which, while it loves
all in general, singles out for itself some from
those, whom it may embrace with a special
affection, and again among those, who are
the special and chief objects of its love, sin-
gles out some who are preferred to others in
affection.

CHAPTER XV.

Of those who onl)' increase their own or their brother's
grievances by hiding them.

On the other hand we know (and O ! would
that we did not know) some of the brethren
who are so hard and obstinate, that when
they know that their own feelings are aroused
against their brother, or that their brother's
are against them, in order to conceal their
Vexation of mind, which is caused by indig-
nation at the grievance of one or the other, go
apart from those whom they ought to smooth
down by humbly making up to them and
talking with them; and begin to sing some
verses of the Psalms. And these while they
fancy that they are softening the bitter thoughts
which have arisen in their heart, increase by
their insolent conduct what they could have
got rid of at once if they had been willing to
show more care and humility, for a well-timed
expression of regret would cure their own
feelings and soften their brother's heart.
For by that plan they nourish and cherish the
sin of meanness or rather of pride, instead of
stamping out all inducement to quarrelling,
and they forget the charge of the Lord which
says: " Whosoever is angry with his brother,
is in danger of the judgment; " and: "if thou
remember that thy brother hath aught against
thee, leave there thy gift before the altar,
and go thy way, first be reconciled to thy
brother, and then come and offer thy gift. " ^

CHAPTER XVI.

How it is that, if our brother has any grudge against us, the
gifts of our prayers are rejected by the Lord.

So far therefore is our Lord anxious that
we should not disregard the vexation of an-
other that He does not accept our offerings
if our brother has anything against us, i.e.,
He does not allow praj-ers to be offered by us
to Him until by speedy amends we remove
from his (our brother's) mind the vexation
which he whether rightly or wrongly feels.

1 S. Matt. V. 22-24.

For He does not say: "if thy brother hath a
true ground for complaint against thee leave
thy gift at the altar, and go thy way, first be
reconciled to him;" but He says: "if thou
remember that thy brother hath aught against
thee," i.e., if there be anything however
trivial or small, owing to which your brother's
anger is roused against you, and this comes
back to your recollection by a sudden remem-
brance, you must know that you ought not to
offer the spiritual gift of your prayers until by
kindly amends you have removed from your
brother's heart the vexation arising from what-
ever cause. If then the words of the Gospel
bid us make satisfaction to those who are
angry for past and utterly trivial grounds of
quarrel, and those which have arisen from
the slightest causes, what will become of us
wretches who with obstinate hypocrisy dis-
regard more recent grounds of offence, and
those of the utmost importance, and due to
our own faults; and being puffed up with the
devil's own pride, as we are ashamed to humble
ourselves, deny that we are the cause of our
brother's vexation and in a spirit of rebellion
disdaining to be subject to the Lord's com-
mands, contend that they never ought to be
observed and never can be fulfilled? And so
it comes to pass that as we make up our
minds that He has commanded things which
are impossible and unsuitable, we become,
to use the Apostle's expression, "not doers
but judges of the law." '^

CHAPTER XVII.

Of those who hold that patience should be shown to worldly
people rather than to the brethren.

This too should be bitterly lamented;
namely, that some of the brethren, when
angered by some reproachful words, if they
are besieged by the prayers of some one else
who wants to smooth them down, when they
hear that vexation ought not to be admitted
or retained against a brother, according to
what is written : " Whoever is angry with his
brother is in danger of the judgment; " and:
"Let not the sun go down upon your wrath," ^
instantly assert that if a heathen or one living
in the world had said or done this, it rightly
ought to be endured. But who could stand
a brother who was accessory to so great a
fault, or gave utterance to so insolent a
reproach with his lips! As if patience were to
be shown only to unbelievers and blasphem-
ers, and not to all in general, or as if anger
should be reckoned as bad when it is against

* S. James iv. 11.

* Eph. iv. 26.

456

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

a heathen, but good when it is against a
brother; whereas certainly the obstinate rage
of an angry soul brings about the same injury
to one's self whoever may be the subject against
whom it is aroused. But how terribly obsti-
nate, aye and senseless is it for them, owing
to the stupidity of their dull mind, not to be
able to discern the meaning of these words, for
it is not said : '' Every one who is angry with a
stranger shall be in danger of the judgment,"
which might perhaps according to their inter-
pretation except those who are partners of
our faith and life, but the word of the Gospel
most significantly expresses it by saying:
" Every one who is angry with his brother,
shall be in danger of the judgment." And so
though we ought according to the rule of truth
to regard every man as a brother, yet in this
passage one of the faithful and a partaker
of our mode of life is denoted by the title of
brother rather than a heathen.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of those who pretend to patience but excite their brethren to
anger by their silence.

But what sort of a thing is this, that some-
times we fancy that we are patient because
when provoked we scorn to answer, but by
sullen silence or scornful motions and ges-
tures so mock at our angry brothers that by
our silent looks we provoke them to anger
more than angry reproaches would have ex-
cited them, meanwhile thinking that we are in
no way guilty before God, because we have
let nothing fall from our lips which could
brand us or condemn us in the judgment of
men. As if in the sight of God mere words,
and not mainly the will was called in fault,
and as if only the actual deed of sin, and not
also the wish and purpose, was reckoned as
wrong ; or as if it would be asked in the judg-
ment only what each one had done and not
what he also purposed to do. For it is not
only the character of the anger roused, but also
the purpose of the man who provokes it which
is bad, and therefore the true scrutiny of our
judge will ask, not how the quarrel was stirred
up but by whose fault it arose : for the pur-
pose of the sin, and not the way in which the
fault is committed must be taken into ac-
count. For what does it matter whether a
man kills a brother with a sword by himself,
or drives him to death by some fraud, when
it is clear that he is killed by his wiles and
crime? As if it were enough not to have
pushed a blind man down with one's own
hand, though he is equally guilty who scorned
to save him, when it was in his power, when

fallen and on the point of tumbling into the
ditch: or as if he alone were guilty v^'ho had
caught a man with the hand, and not also the
one who had prepared and set the trap for
him, or who would not set him free when he
might have done so. So then it is of no
good to hold one's tongue, if we impose
silence upon ourselves for this reason that
by our silence we may do what would have
been done by an outcry on our part, simu-
lating certain gestures by which he whom
we ought to have cured, may be made still
more angry, while we are commended for all
this, to his loss and damage : as if a man
were not for this very reason the more guilty,
because he tried to get glory for himself out
of his brother's fall. For such a silence
will be equally bad for both because while
it increases the vexation in the heart of
another, so it prevents it from being removed
from one's own: and against such persons the
prophet's curse is with good reason directed:
"Woe to him that giveth drink to his friend,
and presenteth his gall, and maketh him
drunk, that he may behold his nakedness.
He is filled with shame instead of glory." ^
And this too which is said of such people by
another: "For every brother will utterly sup-
plant, and every friend will walk deceitfully.
And a man shall mock his brother, and they
will not speak the truth, for they have bent
their tongue like a bow for lies and not for
truth." ^ But often a feigned patience excites
to anger more keenly than words, and, a
spiteful silence exceeds the most awful insults
in words, and the wounds of enemies are more
easily borne than the deceitful blandishment
of mockers, of which it is well said by the
prophet: "Their words are smoother than
oil, and yet they are darts:" and elsewhere
"the words of the crafty are soft: but they
smite within the belly:" to which this also
may be finely applied: "With the mouth he
speaks peace to his friend, but secretly he
layeth snares for him;" with which however
the deceiver is rather deceived, for " if a man
prepares a net before his friend, it surrounds
his own feet; " and: "if a man digs a pit for
his neighbour, he shall fall into it himself."^
Lastly when a great multitude had come with
swords and staves to take the Lord, none of
the murderers of the author of our life stood
forth as more cruel than he wh© advanced
before them all with a counterfeit respect and
salutation and offered a kiss of feigned love;
to whom the Lord said : " Judas, betrayest thou
the Son of man with a kiss? " * i.e., the bitter-

• Hab. ii. 15, 16. * Jer. ix. 4, 5.

3 Ps. liv. (Iv.) 22 ; Prov. xxvi. 22 ; Jer. ix. 8 ; Prov. xxix. 5 ; xxvi. 27,

* S. Luke xxii. 48.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

457

ness of thy persecution and hatred has taken
as a cloke this which expresses the sweetness
of true love. More openly too and more ener-
getically does He emphasize the force of this
grief by the prophet, saying: "For if mine
enemy had cursed me, I would have borne it:
and if he who hated me had spoken great
things against me, I would have hid myself
from him. But it was thou, a man of one
mind, my guide, and my familiar friend: who
didst take sweet meats together with me : in
the house of God we walked with consent."^

CHAPTER XIX.

Of those who fast out of rage.

There is too another evil sort of vexation
which would not be worth mentioning were
it not that we know it is allowed by some of
the brethren who, when they have been vexed
or enraged actually abstain persistently from
food, so that (a thing which we cannot men-
tion wdthout shame) those who when they are
calm declare that they cannot possibly put off
their refreshment to the sixth or at most the
ninth hour, when they are filled with vexation
and rage do not feel fasts even for two days,
and support 'themselves, when exhausted by
such abstinence, by a surfeit of anger. Where-
in they are plainly guilty of the sin of sac-
rilege, as out of the devil's own rage they
endure fasts which ought specially to be of-
fered to God alope out of desire for humili-
ation of heart and purification from sin :
which is much the same as if they were to
offer prayers and sacrifices not to God but
to devils, and so be worthy of hearing this
rebuke of Moses: "They sacrificed to devils
and not to God ; to gods whom they knew
not. "2

CHAPTER XX.

Ot the feigned patience of some who offer the other cheek
to be smitten.

We are not ignorant also of another kind
of insanitv, which we find in some of the breth-
ren under colour of a counterfeit patience, as
in this case it is not enough to have stirred
up quarrels unless they incite them with irri-
tating words so as to get themselves smitten,
and when they have been touched by the
slightest blow, at once they ofi^er another
part of their body to be smitten, as if in this
way they could fulfil to perfection that com-
mand which savs: "If a man smite thee on

* Ps. liv. (Iv.) 13-15.

' Deut. xxxii, 17.

the right cheek, offer him the other also;""
while they totally ignore the meaning and
purpose of the passage. ]'"or they fancy
that they are practising evangelical patience
through the sin of anger, for the utter eradi-
cation of which not only was the exchange
of retaliation and the irritation of strife for-
bidden, but the command was actually given
us to mitigate the wrath of the striker by the
endurance of a double wrong.

CHAPTER XXI.

A question how if we obey the commands of Christ we can fail
of evangelical perfection.

Germanus: How can we blame one who
satisfies the command of the Gospel and not
only does not retaliate, but is actually pre-
pared to have a double wrong offered to him?

CHAPTER XXII.

The answer that Christ looks not only at the action but also
at the will.

Joseph: As was said a little before, we
must look not only at the thing which is
done, but also at the character of the mind
and the purpose of the doer. And therefore
if you weigh with a careful scrutiny of heart
what is done by each man and consider with
what mind it is done or from what feeling
it proceeds, you will see that the virtue of
patience and gentleness cannot possibly be
fulfilled in the opposite spirit, i.e., that of
impatience and rage. Since our Lord and
Saviour, when giving us a thorough lesson on
the virtue of patience and gentleness (i.e.,
teaching us not only to profess it with our
lips, but to store it up in the inmost recesses
of the soul) gave us this summary of evange-
lical perfection, saying: "If any one smites
thee on thy right cheek, offer him the other
also"* (doubtless the "r/>/^^" cheek is men-
tioned, as another "right" cheek cannot be
found except in the face of the inner man, so
to speak), as by this He desires entirely to
remove all incitement to anger from the deep-
est recesses of the soul, i.e., that if your
external right cheek has received a blow from
the striker, the inner man also humbly con-
senting may offer its right cheek to be smitten,
sympathizing with the suffering of the out-
ward man, and in a way submitting and sub-
jecting its own body to wrong from the striker,
that the inner man may not even silently be

3 S. Matt. V. 39.

Ibid.

458

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

disturbed in itself at the blows of the outward
man. You see then that they are very far
from evangelical perfection, which teaches that
patience must be maintained, not in words,
but in inward tranquillity of heart, and which
bids us preserve it whatever evil happens,
that we may not only keep ourselves always
from disturbing anger, but also by submitting
to their injuries compel those, who are dis-
turbed by their own fault, to become calm,
when they have had their fill of blows; and so
overcome their rage by our gentleness. And
so also we shall fulfil these words of the
Apostle: "Be not overcome of evil, but over-
come evil with good." ^ And it is quite clear
that this cannot be fulfilled by those w^ho utter
words of gentleness and humility in such a
spirit and rage that they not only fail to les-
sen the fire of wrath which has been kindled,
but rather make it blaze up the more fiercely
both in their own feelings and in those of
their enraged brother. But these, even if they
could in some way keep calm and quiet them-
selves, would yet not bear any fruits of right-
eousness, while they claim the glory of patience
on their part by their neighbour's loss, and
are thus altogether removed from that Apos-
tolic love which '" Seeketh not her own," ^ but
the things of others. For it does not so desire
riches in such a way as to make profit for itself
out of one's neighbour's loss, nor does it w'ish
to gain anything if it involves the spoiling of
another.

CHAPTER XXIII.

How he is the strong and vigorous man, who yields to the will
of another.

But you must certainly know that in general
he plays a stronger part who subjects his own
will to his brother's, than he who is found to
be the more pertinacious in defending and
clinging to his own decisions. For the former
by bearing and putting up with his neighbour
gains the character of being strong and vigor-
ous, while the latter gains that of being weak
and sickly, who must be pampered and petted
so that sometimes for the sake of his peace
and quiet it is a good thing to relax something
even in necessary matters. And indeed in this
he need not fancy that he has lost anything of
his own perfection, though by yielding he has
given up something of his intended strictness,
but on the contrary he may be sure that he has
gained much more by his virtue of long-suffer-
ing and patience. For this is the Apostle's
command : " Ye who are strong should bear
the infirmities of the weak ; " and : " Bear ye

1 1^

om. xii. 21.

- I Cor. xiii. 5.

one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of
Christ." ^ For a weak man will never support
a weak man, nor can one who is suffering in
the same way, bear or cure one in feeble
health, but one who is himself not subject
to infirmity brings remedies to one in weak
health. For it is rightly said to him: ''Phy-
sician, heal thyself."^

CHAPTER XXIV.

How the weak are harmful and cannot bear wrongs.

We must note too the fact that the nature of
the weak is always such that they are quick
and ready to offer reproaches and sow the
seeds of quarrels, while they themselves can-
not bear to be touched by the shadow of the
very slightest wrong, and while they are riding
roughshod over us and flinging about wanton
charges, they are not able to bear even the
slightest and most trivial ones themselves.
And so according to the aforesaid opinion of
the Elders love cannot last firm and unbroken
except among men of the same purpose and
goodness. For at some time or other it is sure
to be broken, however carefully it may be
guarded by one of them.

CHAPTER XXV.

A question how he can be strong who does not alwa}-s support

the weak.

Germanus: How then can the patience of
a perfect man be worthy of praise if it cannot
alwavs bear the weak ?

CHAPTER XXVI.

The answer that the weak does not ahvaj's allow himself to be

borne.

Joseph: I did not say that the virtue and
endurance of one who is strong and robust
would be overcome, but that the miserable
condition of the weak, encouraged by the toler-
ance of the perfect, and daily growing worse,
is sure to give rise to reasons on account of
which he himself ought no longer to be borne;
or else with a shrewd suspicion that the
patience of his neighbour shows up and sets
off his own impatience at some time or other
he chooses to make off rather than always to
be borne by the magnanimity of the other.
This then we think should be above all else
observed by those who want to keep the affec'

^ Rom. XV. I ; Gal. vi. 2.

■■ S. Luke iv. 23.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

459

tion of their companions unimpaired; viz.,
that first of all when provoked by any wrongs,
a monk should keep not only his lips but even
the depth of his breast unmoved : but if he
finds that they are even slightly disturbed, let
him keep himself in by entire silence, and
diligently observe what the Psalmist speaks
of: "I was troubled and spake nothing;"
and : '' I said I will take heed to thy ways that
I offend not with my tongue. I have set a
guard to my mouth, when the sinner stood
against me. I was dumb and was humbled,
and kept silence from good things; " ^ and he
should not pay any heed to his present state,
nor give vent to what his violent rage suggests
and his exasperated mind expresses at the
moment, but should dwell on the grace of past
love or look forward in his mind to the re-
newal and restoration of peace, and contem-
plate it even in the very hour of rage, as if
it were sure presently to return. And while
he is reserving himself for the delight of
harmony soon to come, he will not feel the bit-
terness of the present quarrel and will easily
make such answers that, when love is restored,
he will not be able to accuse himself as guilty
or be blamed by the other; and thus he will
fulfil these words of the prophet: "In wrath
remember mercy. " ^

CHAPTER XXVII.

How anger should be repressed.

We ought then to restrain every movement
of anger and moderate it under the direction
of discretion, that we may not by blind rage
be hurried into that which is condemned by
Solomon: "The wicked man expends all his
anger, but the wise man dispenses it bit by
bit, "^ i.e., a fool is inflamed by the passion
of his anger to avenge himself; but a wise
man, by the ripeness of his counsel and mode-
ration little by little diminishes it, and gets
rid of it. Something of the same kind too
is this which is said by the Apostle : " Not
avenging yourselves, dearly beloved : but give
place to wrath," '^ i.e., do not under the com-
pulsion of wrath proceed to vengeance, but
give place to wrath, i.e., do not let your hearts
be confined in the straits of impatience and
cowardice so that, when a fierce storm of
passion rises, you cannot endure it; but be
ye enlarged in your hearts, receiving the ad-
verse waves of anger in the wide gulf of that
love which "suffereth all things, beareth all

^ Ps. Ixxvi. (Ixxvii.) 5; xxxviii. (xxxix.) 2, 3. ^ Prov. xxix. 11.
2 Hab. iii. 2. * Rom. xii. 19.

things;"^ and so your mind will be enlarged
with wide long-suffering and patience, and
will have within it safe recesses of counsel,
in which the foul smoke of anger will be
received and be diffused and forthwith vanish
away; or else the passage may be taken in
this way: we give place to wrath, as often
as we yield with humble and tranquil mind
to the passion of another, and bow to the
impatience of the passionate, as if we ad-
mitted that we deserved any kind of wrong.
But those who twist the meaning of the per-
fection of which the Apostle speaks so as to
make out that those give place to anger, who
go away from a man in a rage, seem to me
not to cut off but rather to foment the incite-
ment to quarrelling, for unless a neighbour's
wrath is overcome at once by amends being
humbly made, a man provokes rather than
avoids it by his flight. And there is some-
thing like this that Solomon says: "Be not
hasty in thy spirit to be wroth, for anger
reposes in the bosom of fools ; " and : " Be
not quick to rush into a quarrel, lest thou
repent thereof at the last."® For he does
not blame a hasty exhibition of quarrelling
and anger in such a way as to praise a tardy
one. In the same way too must this be taken :
" A fool declares his anger in the very same
hour, but a prudent man hides his shame."''
For he does not lay it down that a shameful
outburst of anger ought to be hidden by wise
men in such a way that while he blames a
speedy outburst of anger he fails to forbid
a tardy one, as certainly, if owing to human
weakness it does burst forth, he means that
it should be hidden for this reason, that
while for the moment it is wisely covered
up, it may be destroyed forever. For the
nature of anger is such that when it is given
room it languishes and perishes, but if openly
exhibited, it burns more and more. The
hearts then should be enlarged and opened
wide, lest they be confined in the narrow
straits of cowardice, and be filled with the
swelling surge of wrath, and so we become
unable to receive what the prophet calls the
"exceeding broad" commandment of God in
our narrow heart, or to say with the prophet:
"I have run the way of thy commandments
for thou hast enlarged my heart." ^ For that
long-suffering is wisdom we are taught by
very clear passages of Scripture : for " a man
who is long-suffering is great in prudence;
but a coward is very foolish."^ And there-
fore Scripture says of him who to his credit
asked the gift of wisdom from the Lord:
"God gave Solomon wisdom and prudence

•'' I Cor. xiii. 7. ' Prov. xii. 16. ' Prov. xiv. 29.

" Eccl. vii. 9 ; Prov. xxv. 8. * Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 32.

460

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

exceeding much, and largeness of heart as
the sand of the sea for multitude." ^

CHAPTER XXVIII.

How friendships entered upon by conspiracy cannot be lasting

ones.

This too has been often proved by many
experiments; viz., that those who entered
the bonds of friendship from a beginning of
conspiracy, cannot possibly preserve their har-
mony unbroken; either because they tried
to keep it not out of their desire for perfec-
tion nor because of the sway of Apostolic

love, but out of earthly love, and because of
their wants and the bonds of their asjreement;
or else because that most crafty foe of ours
hurries them on the more speedily to break
the chains of their friendship in order that
he may make them breakers of their oath.
This opinion then of the most prudent men
is most certainly established; viz., that true
harmony and undivided union can only exist
among those whose life is pure, and who are
men of the same goodness and purpose.

Thus much the blessed Joseph discoursed
in his spiritual talk on friendship, and tired
us with a more ardent desire to preserve the
love of our fellowship as a lasting one.

XVII.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

ON MAKING PROMISES.

CHAPTER I.

Of the vigils which we endured.

When then the previous Conference was
ended, and the intervening silence of night
as well, as we had been conducted by the holy
Abbot Joseph to a separate cell for the sake
of quiet, but had passed the whole night with-
out sleep (since owing to his words a fire was
raging in our hearts), we came forth from the
ceil and retired about a hundred yards from it
and sat down in a secluded spot. And so as
an opportunity was given by the shades of
night for secret and familiar converse to-
gether, as we sat there Abbot Germanus
groaned heavily.

CHAPTER II.

Of the anxiety of Abbot Germanus at the recollection of our
promise.

What are we doing? said he. For we see
that we are involved in a great difficulty and
are in an evil plight, as reason itself and the
life of the saints is effectually teaching us
what is the best thing for our progress in the
spiritual life, and yet our promise given to the
Elders does not allow us to choose what is
helpful. For we might, by the examples of

* I Kings iv. 29.

such great men, be formed for a more perfect
life and aim, were it not that the terms of
our promise compelled us to return at once
to the monastery. But if we return thither,
we shall never get another chance of coming
here again. But if we stay here and choose
to carry out our wishes, what becomes of the
faith of the oath which we are aware that we
gave to our Elders promising a speedy return;
that we might be allowed to make a hasty
round of the monasteries and saints of this
province? And when in this state of tumult
we could not make up our minds what we
ought to decide on the state of our salvation
w^e simply testified by our groans the hard
fate of our condition, upbraiding the audacity
of our impudence, and yet hating the shame
which was natural to us, weighed down by
which we could not in any other way resist
the prayers of those who kept us back against
our profit and purpose, except by the promise
of a speedy return, as we wept indeed that
we laboured under the fault of that shame,
of which it is said "There is a shame that
bringeth sin." ^

CHAPTER III.

My ideas on this subject.

Then I replied: The counsel or rather the
authority of the Elder to whom we ought to

- Prov. xxvi. II.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

461

refer our anxieties would make a short way
out of our diffieulties, and whatever is decided
by his verdict, may, like a divine and heavenly
reply, put an end to all our troubles. And
we need not have any doubt of what is given
to us by the Lord through the lips of this
Elder, both for the sake of his merits and for
our own faith. For by His gift believers have
often obtained saving counsel from unworthy
people, and unbelievers from saints, as the
Lord frrants this either on account of the
merit of those who answer, or on account of
the faith of those who ask advice. And so
the holy Abbot Germanus caught eagerly at
these words as if I had uttered them not of
myself but at the prompting of the Lord, and
when we had waited a little for the coming
of the Elder and the approaching hour of the
nocturnal service, after we had welcomed him
with the usual greeting and finished reciting
the right number of Psalms and prayers, we
sat down again as usual on the same mats on
which we had settled ourselves to sleep.

CHAPTER IV.

Abbot Joseph's question and our answer on the origin of our

anxiety.

Then the venerable Joseph saw that we
were in rather low spirits, and, guessing that
this was not the case without reason, addressed
us in these words of the patriarch Joseph:
"Why are your faces sad today? "^ to whom
we answered: We are not like those bond
slaves of Pharaoh who have seen a dream and
there is none to interpret it, but I admit that
we have passed a sleepless night and there
is no one to lighten the weight of our troubles
unless the Lord may remove them by your
wisdom. Then he, who recalled the excel-
lence of the patriarch both by his merits and
name, said: Does not the cure of man's per-
plexities come from the Lord? Let them
be brought forward: for the Divine Compas-
sion is able to give a remedy for them by
means of our advice according to your faith.

CHAPTER V.

The explanation of Abbot Germanus why we wanted to stay
in Egypt, and were drawn back to Syria.

To THIS Germanus : We used to think, said
he, that we should go back to our monastery
abundantly filled not only with spiritual joy
but also with what is profitable by the sight

1 Gen. xl. 7.

of your holiness, and that after our return
we should follow, though with but a feeble
rivalry, what we had learnt from your teach-
ing. For this our love for our Elders led us
to promise them, while we fancied that we
could in some degree follow in that monastery
your sublime life and doctrine. Wherefore
as we thought that by this means all joy would
be bestowed upon us, so on the other hand
we are overwhelmed with intolerable grief, as
we find that we cannot possibly obtain in this
way what we know to be good for us. On
both sides then we are now hemmed in. For
if we want to keep our promise which we made
in the presence of all the brethren in the cave
where our Lord Himself shone forth from His
chamber in the Virgin's womb,^ and which
He Himself witnessed, we shall incur the
greatest loss in our spiritual life. But if we
ignore our promise and stay in this district,
and choose to consider that oath of ours as
of less importance than our perfection, we are
afraid of the awful clangers of falsehood and
perjury. But not even by this plan can we
lighten our burdens; viz., by fulfilling the
terms of our oath by a very hasty return, and
then coming back again as quickly as possible
to these parts. For although even a small
delay is dangerous and hurtful for those who
are aiming at goodness and advance in spiri-
tual things, yet still we would keep our faith
and promise, though by an unwilling return,
were it not that we felt sure that we should be
so tightly bound down both by the authority
and also by the love of the Elders, that we
should henceforth have no opportunity at all
to come back again to this place.

CHAPTER VL

Abbot Joseph's question whether we got more good in Egypt
than in Syria.

To this the blessed Joseph, after a short
silence: Are you sure, said he, that you can
get more profit in spiritual matters in this
country?

CHAPTER VH.

The answer on the difference of customs in the two countries.

Germanus : Although we ought to be most
grateful for the teaching of those men who
taught us from our youth up to attempt great
things, and, by giving us a taste of their ex-
cellence, implanted in our hearts a splendid
thirst for perfection, yet if any reliance is to

* Compare on the Institutes IV. c. xxxi.

462

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

be placed on our judgment, we cannot draw
any comparison between these customs and
those which we learnt there, so as to hold our ;
tongues about the inimitable purity of your
life, which we believe is granted to you not
only owing to the concentration of your mind
and aim, but also owing to the aid and assist- 1
ance of the place itself. Wherefore we do '
not doubt that for the following of your grand
perfection this instruction which is given to
us is not enough by itself, unless we have also
the help of the life, and a long course of in-
struction somewhat dissolves the coldness of
our heart by daily training.

CHAPTER VIII.

How those who are perfect ought not to make any promises
absolutely, and wliether decisions can be reversed without
sin.

Joseph: It is good indeed and right and
altogether in accordance with our profession,
for us effectually to perform what we decided
to do in the case of any promise. Wherefore
a monk ought not to make any promise hastily,
lest he may be forced to do what he incau-
tiously promised, or if he is kept back by
consideration of a sounder view, appear as a
breaker of his promise. But because at the
present moment our purpose is to treat not so
much of a state of health as of the cure of
sickness we must with salutary counsel con-
sider not what you ought to have done in the
first instance, but how you can escape from
the rocks of this perilous shipwreck. When
then no chains impede us and no conditions
restrict us, in the case of a comparison of
good things, if a choice is proposed, that
which is most advantageous should be pre-
ferred : but when some detriment and loss
stands in the way, in a comparison of things
to our hurt, that should be sought which
exposes us to the smallest loss. Further, as
your assertion shows, when your heedless
promise has brought you to this state that in
either case some serious loss and inconveni-
ence must result to you, the will in choosing
should incline to that side which involves a
loss that is more tolerable, or can be more
easily made up for by the remedy of making
amends. If then you think that you will get
more good for your spirit by staying here than
what accrued to you from your life in that
monastery, and that the terms of your promise
cannot be fulfilled without the loss of great
good, it is better for you to undergo the loss
from a falsehood and an unfulfilled promise
(as it is done once for all, and need not any

longer be repeated or be the cause of other
sins) than for you to incur that loss, through
which you say that your state of life would be-
come colder, and which would affect you with
a daily and unceasing injury. For a careless
promise is changed in such a way that it may
be pardoned or indeed praised, if it is turned
into a better path, nor need we take it as a
failure in consistency, but as a correction of
rashness, whenever a promise that was faulty
is corrected. And all this may be proved by
most certain witness from Scripture, that for
many the fulfilment of their promise has led
to death, and on the other hand that for many
it has been good and profitable to have re-
fused it.

CHAPTER IX.

How it is often better to break one's engagements than to

fulfil them.

And both these points are very clearly
shown by the cases of S. Peter the Apostle
and Herod. For the former, because he de-
parted from his expressed determination which
he had as it were confirmed with an oath
saying "Thou shalt never wash my feet,"^
gained an immortal partnership with Christ,
whereas he would certainly have been cut off
from the grace of this blessedness, if he had
clung obstinately to his word. But the latter,
by clinging to the pledge of his ill-considered
oath, became the bloody murderer of the
Lord's forerunner, and through the vain fear
of perjury plunged himself into condemna-
tion and the punishment of everlasting death.
In everything then we must consider the end,
and must according to it direct our course and
aim, and if when some wiser counsel super-
venes, we see it diverging to the worse part, it
is better to discard the unsuitable arrange-
ment, and to come to a better mind rather
than to cling obstinately to our engagements
and so become involved in worse sins.

CHAPTER X.

Our question about our fear of the oath which we gave in
the monastery in Syria.

Germanus : In so far as it concerns our
desire, which we undertook to carry out for
the sake of spiritual profit, we were hoping to
be edified by continual intercourse with you.
For if we were to return to our monastery it is
certain that M'e should not only fail of so
sublime a purpose, but that we should also

1 S. John xiii. 8.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

463

suffer grievous loss from the mediocrity of the
manner of life there. But that command of
the gospel frightens us terribly: "Let your
speech be yea, yea, nay, nay : but whatsoever
is more than these, is from the evil one."-'
For we hold that we cannot compensate for
transgressing so important a command by any
righteousness, nor can that finally turn out
well which has once been started with a bad

beginning.

CHAPTER XI.

The answer that we must take into account the purpose of the
doer rather than the execution of the business.

Joseph: In every case, as we said, we must
look not at the progress of the work but at
the intention of the worker, nor must we in-
quire to begin with what a man has done, but
with what purpose, so that we may find that
some have been condemned for those deeds
from which good has afterwards arisen, and
on the other hand that some have arrived by
means of acts in themselves reprehensible at
the height of righteousness. And in the case
of the former the good result of their actions
was of no avail to them as they took the mat-
ter in and with an evil purpose, and wanted
to bring about — not the good which actually
resulted, but something of the opposite cha-
racter; nor was the bad beginning injurious to
the latter, as he put up with the necessity of
a blameworthy start, not out of disregard for
God, or with the purpose of doing wrong, but
with an eye to a needful and holy end.

CHAPTER XII.

How a fortunate issue will be of no avail to evil doers, while
bad deeds wili not injure good men.

And that we may make these statements
clear by instances from Holy Scripture, what
could be brought about that was more salu-
tary and more to the good of the whole world,
than the saving remedy of the Lord's Passion?
And yet it was not only of no advantage, but
w^as actually to the disadvantage of the traitor
by whose means it is shown to have been
brought about, so that it is absolutely said of
him : " It were good for that man if he had
never been born."- For the fruits of his
labour will not be repaid to him according to
the actual result, but according to what he
.wanted to do, and believed that he would

1 S. Matt. V. 37.

2 S. Matt. xxvi. 24.

accomplish. And again, what could there be
more culpable than craft and deceit shown
even to a stranger, not to mention one's
brother and father? And yet the patriarch
Jacob not only met with no condemnation
or blame for such things but was actually
dowered with the everlasting heritage of the
blessing. And not without reason, for the
last mentioned desired the blessing destined
for the first-born not out of a greedy desire
for present gain but because of his faith in
everlasting sanctification; while the former
(Judas) delivered the Redeemer of all to
death, not for the sake of man's salvation,
but from the sin of covetousness. And there-
fore in each case the fruits of their action are
reckoned according to the intention of the
mind and purpose of the will, according to
which the object of the one was not to work
fraud, nor was that of the other to work sal-
vation. For justly is there repayment to each
man as the recompense of reward, for what he
conceived in the first instance in his mind,
and not for what resulted from it either well
or badly, against the wish of the worker.
And so the most just Judge regarded him who
ventured on such a falsehood as excusable
and indeed w'orthy of praise, because without
it he could not secure the blessing of the first-
born; and that should not be reckoned as a
sin, which arose from desire of the blessing.
Otherwise the aforesaid patriarch would have
been not only unfair to his brother, but also
a cheat of his father and a blasphemer, if
there had been any other way by which he
could secure the gift of that blessing, and
he had preferred to follow this which would
damage and injure his brother. You see then
that with God the inquiry is not into the
carrying out of the act, but into the purpose
of the mind. With this preparation then for
a return to the question proposed (for which
all this has been premised) I want you first
to tell me for what reason you bound your-
selves in the fetters of that promise.

CHAPTER XIIL

Our answer as to the reason which demanded an oath from us.

Germanus: The first reason, as we said,
was that we were afraid of vexing our Elders
and resisting their orders; the second was
that we very foolishly believed that, if we had
learnt from you anything perfect or splendid
to hear or look at, when we returned to the
monastery, we should be able to perform it.

464

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CHAPTER XIV.

The discourse of the Elder showing how the plan of action
may be changed without fault provided that one keeps to
the carrying out of a good intention.

Joseph : As we premised, the intent of the
mind brings a man either reward or condem-
nation, according to this passage: "Their
thoughts between themselves accusing or also
defending one another, in the day when God
shall judge the secrets of men ; " and this too :
'• But I am coming to gather together their
works and thoughts together with all nations
and tongues."^ Wherefore it was, as I see,
from a desire for perfection that you bound
yourselves with the chain of these oaths, as
you then thought that by this plan it could be
gained, while now that a riper judgment has
supervened, you see that you cannot by this
means scale its heights. And so any departure
from that arrangement, which may seem to
have happened, will be no hindrance, if only
no change in that first purpose follows. For a
change of instrument does not imply a deser-
tion of the work, nor does the choice of a
shorter and more direct road argue laziness
on the path of the traveller. And so in this
matter an improvement in a short-sighted
arrangement is not to be reckoned a breach of
a spiritual promise. For whatever is done out
of the love of God and desire for goodness,
which has "promise of the life that now is
and of that which is to come,"^ even though
it may appear to commence with a hard and
adverse iDeginning, is most worthy, not only
of no blame, but actually of praise. And
tlierefore the breaking of a careless promise
will be no hindrance, if in every case the end,
i.e., the proposed aim at goodness, be main-
tained. For we do all for this reason, that
we may be able to show to God a clean heart,
and if the attainment of this is considered to
be easier in this country the alteration of the
agreement extracted from you will be no hin-
drance to you, if only the perfection of that
purity for the sake of which your promise was
originally made, be the sooner secured accord-
ing to the Lord's will.

CHAPTER XV.

A question whether it can be without sin that our knowledge
affords to weak brethren an opportunity for lying.

Germanus: As far as the force of the words
which have been reasonably and carefully
considered, is concerned, our scruple about
our promise would have easily been removed

' Rom. ii. 15, i6; Is. Ixvi. 18.

2 I Tim. iv. 8.

from us were it not that we were terribly
alarmed lest by this example an opportunity
for lying might be offered to certain weaker
brethren, if they knew that the faith of an
agreement could be in any way lawfully
broken, whereas this very thing is forbidden
in such vigorous and threatening terms by the
prophet when he says: "Thou shalt destroy
all those who utter a lie; " and: "the mouth
that speaketh a lie, shall slay the soul."^

CHAPTER XVI.

The answer that Scripture truth is not to be altered on account
of an offence given to the weak.

Joseph : Occasions and opportunities for de-
stroying themselves cannot possibly be want-
ing to those who are on the road to ruin, or
rather who are anxious to destroy themselves;
nor are those passages of Scripture to be re-
jected and altogether torn out of the volume,
by which the perversity of heretics is en-
couraged, or the unbelief of the Jews increased,
or the pride of heathen wisdom offended ; but
surely they are to be piously believed, and
firmly held, and preached according to the
rule of truth. And therefore we should not,
because of another's unbelief, reject the
oiy.otof.tlu;, i.e., the "economy" of the prophets
and saints which Scripture relates, lest while
we are thinking that we ought to condescend
to their infirmities, we stain ourselves with
the sin not only of lying but of sacrilege.
But, as we said, we ought to admit these
according to the letter, and explain how
they were rightly done. But for those who
are wrongly disposed, the opening for lies
will not be blocked up by this means, if we
are trying either altogether to deny or to
explain away by allegorical interpretations
the truth of those things which we are going
to bring forward or have already brought for-
ward. For how will the authority of these
passages injure them if their corrupt will is
alone sufficient to lead them to sin.''

CHAPTER XVn.

How the saints have profitably employed a lie like hellebore.

And so we ought to regard a lie and to em-
ploy it as if its nature were that of hellebore;
which is useful if taken when some deadly
disease is threatening, but if taken without
being required by some great danger is the
cause of immediate death. For so also M'e

' Ps. V. 7; Wisd.i. II.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

465

read that holy men and those most approved
by God employed lying, so as not only to
incur no guilt of sin from it, but even to
attain the greatest goodness; and if deceit
could confer glory on them, what on the other
hand would the truth have brought them but
condemnation? Just as Rahab, of whom
Scripture gives a record not only of no good
deed but actually of unchastity, yet simply for
the lie, by means of which she preferred to
hide the spies instead of betraying them, had
it vouchsafed to her to be joined with the
people of God in everlasting blessing. But if
she had preferred to speak the truth and to
regard the safety of the citizens, there is no
doubt that she and all her house would not
have escaped the coming destruction, nor
would it have been vouchsafed to her to be
inserted in the progenitors of our Lord's
nativitv, ^ and reckoned in the list of the
patriarchs, and through her descendants that
followed, to become the mother of the Saviour
of all. Again Dalila, who to provide for the
safety of her fellow citizens betrayed the truth
she had discovered, obtained in exchange
eternal destruction, and has left to all men
nothing but the memory of her sin. A\'hen
then any grave danger hangs on confession of
the truth, then we must take to lying as a
refuge, yet in such a way as to be for our sal-
vation troubled by the guilt of a humbled con-
science. But where there is no call of the
utmost necessity present, there a lie should
be most carefully avoided as if it were some-
thing deadly: just as we said of a cup of
hellebore which is indeed useful if it is only
taken in the last resort when a deadly and in-
evitable disease is threatening, while if it is
taken when the body is in a state of sound and
rude health, its deadly properties at once go
to find . out the vital parts. And this was
clearly shown of Rahab of Jericho, and the [
patriarch Jacob ; the former of whom could
only escape death by means of this remedy, j
while the latter could not secure -^the blessing
of the first-born without it. For God is not
only the Judge and inspector of our words and
actions, but He also looks into their purpose i
and aim. And if He sees that anything has
been done or promised by some one for the :
sake of eternal salvation and shows insight ;
into Divine contemplation, even though it may 1
appear to men to be hard and unfair, yet He '
looks at the inner goodness of the heart and \
regards the desire of the will rather than the
actual words spoken, because He must take
into account the aim of the work and the dis-
position of the doer, whereby, as was said

^ Cf. S. Matt. i. 5.

above, one man may be justified by means of
a lie, while another may be guilty of a sin
of everlasting death by telling the truth. To
which end the patriarch Jacob also had regard
when he was not afraid to imitate the hairy
appearance of his brother's body by wrapping
himself up in skins, and to his credit ac-
quiesced in his mother's instigation of a lie
for this object. For he saw that in this way
there would be bestowed on him greater gains
of blessing and righteousness than by keep-
ing to the path of simplicity: for he did not
doubt that the stain of this lie would at once
be washed away by the flood of the paternal
blessing, and would speedily be dissolved
like a little cloud by the breath of the Holy
Spirit; and that richer rewards of merit would
be bestowed on him by means of this dissimu-
lation which he put on than by means of the
truth, which was natural to him.

CHAPTER XVHI.

An objection that only those men employed lies with impunity,
who lived under the law.

Germanus: It is no wonder that these
schemes were properly employed in the Old
Testament, and that some holy men laudably
or at any rate venially told lies, as we see
that many worse things were permitted to them
owing to the rude character of the times. For
why should we wonder that when the blessed
David was fleeing from Saul, in answer to the
inquiry of Abimelech the priest who said :
'"Why art thou alone, and is no man with
thee?" he replied as follows: "The king
hath commanded me a business, and said,
Let no man know the thing for which thou art
sent by me, for I have appointed my servants
to such and such a place; " and again : '• Hast
thou here at hand a spear or a sword, for I
brought not my own sword nor my own weapon
with me, for the king's business required
haste ; " or this, when he Avas brought to
Achish king of Gath, and feigned himself
mad and frantic, "and changed his counte-
nance before them, and slipped down between
their hands; and stumbled against the doors
of the gate and his spittle ran down on his
beard; "^ when they were even allowed to en-
joy crowds of wives and concubines, and no
sin was on this account imputed to them, and
when moreover they often shed the blood of
their enemies with their own hand, and this
w^as thought not only worthy of no blame, but
actually praiseworthy? And all these things

- I Sam. xxi. i, 2, 8, 13.

466

•CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

we see by the light of the gospel are utterly
forbidden, so that not one of them can be
done without great sin and guilt. And in the
same way we hold that no lie can be employed
by any one, I will not say rightly, but not even
venially, however it may be covered with the
colour of piety, as the Lord says : '' Let your
speech be yea, yea, nay, nay: but whatsoever
is more than these is of the evil one ; " and
the Apostle also agrees with this: "And lie
not one to another." ^

CHAPTER XIX.

The answer, that leave to lie, which was not even granted under
the old Covenant, has riglitly been taken by many.

Joseph: All liberty in the matter of wives
and many concubines, as the end of time
is approaching and the multiplying of the
human race completed, ought rightly to be
cut off by evangelical perfection, as being no
longer necessary. For up to the coming of
Christ it was well that the blessing of the
original sentence should be in full vigour,
whereby it was said: "Increase and multiply,
and fill the earth."- And therefore it was
quite right that from the root of human
fecundity which happily flourished in the
synagogue, in accordance with that dispensa-
tion of the times, the buds of angelical vir-
ginity should spring, and the fragrant flowers
of continence be produced in the Church.
But that lying was even then condemned the
text of the whole Old Testament clearly shows,
as it says: "Thou shall destroy all them that
speak lies;" and again: "The bread of lying
is sweet to a man, but afterwards his mouth is
filled with gravel;" and the Giver of the law
himself says: "Thou shalt avoid a lie." ^ But
we said that it was then properly employed as
a last resort when some need or plan of salva-
tion was linked on to it, on account of which
it ought not to be condemned. As is the case,
which you mentioned, of king David when
in his Hight from the unjust persecution of
Saul, to Abimelech the priest he used lying
words, not with the object of getting any gain
nor with the desire to injure anybody, but
simply to save himself from that most iniqui-
tous persecution; inasmuch as he would not
stain his hands with the blood of the hostile
king, so often delivered up to him by God; as
he said: "The Lord be merciful to me that I
may do no such thing to my master the Lord's
anointed, as to lay my hand upon him,
because he is the Lord's anointed."^ And

' S. I\Iatt. V. 37; Col. iii. 0. ' Gen. i. 28.

3 Ps. V. 7; Prov. XX. 17; Exod. xxiii. 7. * i Sam. xxiv. 7.

therefore these plans which we hear that holy
men under the old covenant adopted either
from the will of God, or for the prefiguring
of spiritual mysteries or for the salvadon of
some people, we too cannot refuse altogether,
when necessity constrains us, as we see that
even apostles did not avoid them, where the
consideration of something profitable required
them: which in the meanwhile we will for a
time postpone, while we first discuss those
instances which we propose still to bring for-
ward from the Old Testament, and afterwards
we shall more suitably introduce them so as
more readily to prove that good and holy men,
both in the Old and in the New Testament,
were entirely at one with each other in these
contrivances. For what shall we say of that
pious fraud of Hushai to Absalom for the
salvation of king David, which though uttered
with all appearance of good-will by the de-
ceiver and cheat, and opposed to the good
of him who asked advice, is yet commended
by the authority of Holy Scripture, which
says : " But by the will of the Lord the profit-
able counsel of Ahithophel was defeated that
the Lord might bring evil upon Absalom .'" ^
Nor could that be blamed which was done
for the right side with a right purpose and
pious intent, and was planned for the salva-
tion and victory of one whose piety was pleas-
ing to God, by a holy dissimulation. \^'hat
too shall we say of the deed of that woman,
who received the men who had been sent to
king David by the aforesaid Hushai, and
hid them in a well, and spread a cloth over
its mouth, and pretended that she was drying
pearl-barley, and said "They passed on after
tasting a little water"; '^ and by this invention
saved them from the hands of their pursuers.'
Wherefore answer nie, I pray you, and say
what you would have done, if any similar
situation had arisen for you, living new under
the gospel; would you prefer to hide them
with a similar falsehood, saying in the same
way: "They passed on after tasting a little
water," and thr^ fulfil the command : " Deliver
those who are being led to death, and spare
not to redeem those who are being killed ;"''
or by speaking the truth, would you have
given up those in hiding to the men who
would kill them? And what then becomes
of the Apostle's words: "Let no man seek
his own but the things of another;'' and:.
"Love seeketh not her own, but the things of
others;" and of himself he says: "I seek not
mine own good but the good of many that
they may be saved ? " ^ For if we seek our own.

^ 2 Sam. xvii. 14.
•^ 2 /i. ver. 20.

' Prov. xxiv. II.

' I Cor. X. 24 ; .\iii. 5 ; i Cor. x. 33.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

467

and want obstinately to keep what is good
for ourselves, we must even in urgent cases
of this sort speak the truth, and so become
guilty of the death of another: but if we
prefer what is for another's advantage to our
own good, and satisfy the demands of the
Apostle, we shall certainly have to put up
with the necessity of lying. And therefore
we shall not be able to keep a perfect heart
of love, or to seek, as Apostolic perfection
requires, the things of others, unless we
relax a little in those things which concern
the strictness and perfection of our own lives,
and choose to condescend with ready affec-
tion to what is useful to others, and so with
the Apostle become weak to the weak, that
we may be able to gain the weak.

CHAPTER XX.

How even Apostles thought tliat a lie was often useful and the
truth injurious.

Instructed by which examples, the blessed
Apostle James also, and all the chief princes
of the primitive Church urged the Apostle
Paul in consequence of the weakness of
feeble persons to condescend to a fictitious
arrangement and insisted on his purifying him-
self according to the requirements of the law,
and shaving his head and paying his vows, as
they thought that the present harm which
would come from this hypocrisy was of no
account, but had regard rather to the gain
which would result from his still continued
preaching. For the gain to the Apostle Paul
from his strictness would not have counter-
balanced the loss to all nations from his
speedy death. And this would certainly have
been then incurred by the whole Church un-
less this good and salutary hypocrisy had
preserved him for the preaching of the Gospel.
For then w-e may rightly and pardonably ac-
quiesce in the wrong of a lie, when, as we
said, a greater harm depends on telling the
truth, and when the good which results to us
from speaking the truth cannot counterbalance
the harm which will be caused by it. And
elsewhere the blessed Apostle testifies in other
words that he himself alwavs observed this
disposition; for when he says: "To the Jews
I became as a Jew that I might gain the Jews;
to those who were under the law as being
under the law, though not myself under the
law, that I might gain those who were under
the law; to those who were without law, I
became as without law, though I was not with-
out the law of God but under the law of
Christ, that I might gain those who were

without law; to the weak I became weak,
that I might gain the weak: I became all
things to all men, that I might save all ; " ^
what does he show but that according to the
weakness and the capacity of those who were
being instructed he always lowered himself
and relaxed something of the vigour of per-
fection, and did not cling to what his own
strict life might seem to demand, but rather
preferred that which the good of the weak
might require? And that we may trace these
matters out more carefully and recount one
by one the glories of the good deeds of the
Apostles, some one may ask how the blessed
Apostle can be proved to have suited himself
to all men in all things. \\hen did he to
the Jews become as a Jew? Certainly in the
case where, while he still kept in his inmost
heart the opinion which he had maintained
to the Galatians saying: "Behold, I, Paul,
say unto you that if ye be circumcised Christ
shall profit you nothing," ^ yet by circumcis-
ing Timothy he adopted a shadow as it were
of Jewish superstition. And again, where
did he become to those under the law, as
under the law? There certainly where James
and all the Elders of the Church, fearing
lest he might be attacked by the multitude
of Jewish believers, or rather of Judaizing
Christians, who had received the faith of
Christ in such a way as still to be bound by
the rites of legal ceremonies, came to his
rescue in his difficulty wdth this counsel and
advice, and said: "Thou seest, brother, how-
many thousands there are among the Jews,
who have believed, and they are all zealots
for the law. But they have heard of thee
that thou teachest those Jews who are among
the Gentiles to depart from Moses, saying
that they ought not to circumcise their child-
ren;" and below: "Do therefore this that
we say unto thee : we have four men who have
a vow on them. These take and sanctify thy-
self with them and bestow on them, that they
may shave their heads; and all will know
that the things which they have heard of
thee are false, but that thou thyself also
walkest keeping the law."^ And so for the
good of those who were under the law, he
trode under foot for a while the strict view
which he had expressed: "For I through the
law am dead unto the law that I may live unto
God;"* and was driven to shave his head,
and be purified according to the law and pay
his vows after the Mosaic rites in the Temple.
Do you ask also where for the good of those
who were utterly ignorant of the law of Gcd,
he himself became as if without law? Read

* I Cor. ix. 20-22.
2 Gal. V. 2.

3 Acts xxi. 20-24.

4 Gal. ii. 19.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

the introduction to liis sermon at Athens
where heathen wickedness was flourishing:
"As I passed by," he says, '' 1 saw your idols
and an altar on w'hich was written: To the
unknown God ; " and when he had thus started
from their superstition, as if he himself also
had been without law, under the cloke of that
profane inscription he introduced the faith of
Christ, saying: " What therefore ye ignorantly
worship, that declare I unto you." And after
a little, as if he had known nothing whatever
of the Divine law, he chose to bring forward
a verse of a heathen poet rather than a saying
of Moses or Christ, saying: ''As some also
of your own poets have said: for we are also
His offspring." And when he had thus ap-
proached them w^ith their own authorities,
which they could not reject, thus confirming
the truth by things false, he added and said:
'■'Since then we are the offspring of God we
ought not to think that the Godhead is like
to gold or silver or stone sculptured by the
art and device of man. " ^ But to the weak
he became w'eak, when, by way of permission,
not of command, he allowed those who could
not contain themselves to return together
again, ^ or when he fed the Corinthians with
milk and not with meat, and says that he was
with them in weakness and fear and much
trembling.^ But he became all things to all
men that he might save all, when he says :
"He that eateth let him not despise him that
eateth not, and let not him that eateth not
judge him that eateth:" and: "He that
giveth his virgin in marriage doeth well, and
he that giveth her not in marriage doeth
better;" and elsewhere: " Who, " says he, "is
weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended,
and I burn not? " and in this way he fulfilled
what he had commanded the Corinthians to
do when he said: "Be ye without offence to
Jews and Greeks and the Church of Christ,
as I also please all men in all things, not
seeking mine own profit but that of the many,
that they may be saved." * For it had cer-
tainly been profitable not to circumcise Tim-
othy, not to shave his head, not to undergo
Jewish purification, not to practice going
barefoot,^ not to pay legal vows; but he did
all these things because he did not seek his
own profit but that of the many. And
although this was done with the full conside-
ration of God, yet it was not free from dis-
simulation. For one who through the law of

' Acts xvii. 23, 29. 2 cf. J Cor. vii. 5. 3 Cf. i Cor. iii. 2 ; ii. 3.

•* Rom. xiv. 3 ; i Cor. viii. 38; 2 Cor. xi. 29; i Cor. x. 32, 33.

■" Nudipedalici non exercere. The expression is also used by
Jerome of S. Paul's purification in Jerusalem ("in Gal. Rook 1 1, c. iv.),
tiiouch there is nothing in the account in the Acts about his going
barefoot. Compare also Jerome against Jfivinian, Book I. c. viii.,
and for the word, in connexion with the rites of the Christian Church,
see TertuUian Apologeticum, c. xJ.

Christ was dead to the law that he might live
to God, and who had made and treated that
righteousness of the law in which he had lived
blameless, as dung, that he might gain Christ,
could not with true fervour of heart offer what
belonged to the law; nor is it right to believe
that he who had said: " For if I again rebuild
what I have destroyed, I make myself a trans-
gressor," ^ would himself fall into what he had
condemned. And to such an extent is account
taken, not so much of the actual thing which
is done as of the disposition of the doer, that
on the other hand truth is sometimes found
to have injured some, and a lie to have done
them good. For when Saul was grumbling
to his servants about David's flight, and say-
ing: "Will the son of Jesse give you all fields
and vineyards, and make you all tribunes and
centurions: that all of you have conspired
against me, and there is no one to inform
me," did Doeg the Edomite say anything but
the truth, when he told him : " I saw the son
of Jesse in Nob, with Abimelech the son of
Ahitub the priest, who consulted the Lord for
him, and gave him victuals, and gave him
also the sword of Goliath the Philistine?"''
For w^hich true story he deserved to be rooted
up out of the land of the living, and it is said
of him by the prophet: "Wherefore God shall
destroy thee forever, and pluck thee up and
tear thee out of thy tabernacle, and thy root
from the land of the living:"^ He then for
showing the truth is forever plucked and
rooted up out of that land in which the harlot
Rahab with her family is planted for her lie:
ijust as also we remember that Samson most
I injuriously betrayed to his wicked wife the
\ truth which he had hidden for a long time by
; a lie, and therefore the truth so inconside-
j rately disclosed was the cause of his own
deception, because he had neglected to keep
the command of the prophet : " Keep the doors
of thy mouth from her that sleepeth in thy
bosom."*

CHAPTER XXI.

Whether secret abstinence oiie;ht to be made known, without
telling a lie about it, to those who ask, and whether what
has once been declined may be taken in hand.

And to bring forward some instances from
our unavoidable and almost daily wants
which with all our care we can never so guard
against as not to be driven to incur them
whether with or against our will : what, I ask
you, is to be done when, while we are pro-
posing to put off our supper, a brother comes
and asks us if we have had it: is our fast to

0 Gal. ii. i8._

■^ J Sam. xxii. 7-10.

8 Ps. Ii. (Iii.) 7.

9 Micah ii. 7.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

469

be concealed, and the good act of abstinence
hidden, or is it to be proclaimed by telling
the truth? If we conceal it, to satisfy tlie
Lord's command which says: "Thou shalt
not appear unto men to fast but unto thy
Father Who is in secret;" and airain: "Let
not thy left hand know what thy right hand
doeth,"^ we must at once tell a lie. If we
make manifest the good act of abstinence, the
word of the gospel rightly discourages us :
"Verily I say unto you, they have their
reward."^ But what if any one has refused
with determination a cup offered to him by
some brother, denying altogether that he will
take what the other, rejoicing at his arrival,
begs and intreats him to receive? Is it right
that he should force himself to yield to his
brother who goes on his knees and bows him-
self to the ground, and who thinks that he can
only show his loving heart by this service, or
should he obstinately cling to his own word
and intention?

CHAPTER XXII.

An objection, that abstinence ought to be concealed, but that
things that have been declined should not be received.

Germanus : In the former instance we
think there can be no doubt that it is better
for our abstinence to be hidden than for it to
be displayed to the inquirers, and in cases of
this sort we also admit that a lie is unavoid-
able. But in the second there is no need
for us to tell a lie, first because we can refuse
what is offered by the service of a brother in
such a way as to bind ourselves in no bond
of determination, and next because when we
once refuse we can keep our opinion un-
changed.

CHAPTER XXIIL

Tha answer that obstinacy in this decision is unreasonable.

Joseph : There is no doubt that these are
the decisions of those monasteries in which
the infancy of your renunciation was, as you
tell us, trained, as their leaders are accus-
tomed to prefer their own will to their
brother's supper, and most obstinately stick
to what they have once intended. But our
Elders, to whose faith the signs of Apostolical
powers have borne witness, and who have
treated everything with judgment and discre-
tion of spirit rather than with stiff obstinacy
of mind, have laid down that those men who
give in to the infirmities of others, receive

1 S. Matt. vi. iS, 3.

^ lb. ver. 2.

much richer fruits than those who persist in
their determinations, and have declared that
it is a better deed to conceal abstinence, as
was said, by this needful and humble lie,
rather than to display it with a proud show of
truth.

CHAPTER XXIV.

How Abbot Piamun chose to hide his abstinence.

Finally Abbot Piamun '^ after twenty-five
years did not hesitate to receive some grapes
and wine offered to him by a certain brother,
and at once preferred, against his rule, to
taste what was brought him rather than to
display his abstinence which was a secret from
everybody. For if we would also bear in mind
what we remember that our Elders always did,
who used to conceal the marvels of their own
good deeds, and their own acts, which they
were obliged to bring forward in Conference
for the instruction of the juniors, under cover
of other persons, what else can we consider
them but an open lie? And O that we
too had anything worthy which we could
bring forward for stirring up the faith of the
juniors ! Certainly we should have no scruples
in following their fictions of that kind. For
it is better under the colour of a figure like
that to tell a lie than for the sake of main-
taining that unreasonable truthfulness either
hide in ill-advised silence what might be
edifying to the hearers, or run into the display
of an objectionable vanity by telling them
truthfully in our own character. And the
teacher of the Gentiles clearly teaches us the
same lesson by his teaching, as he chose to
bring forward the great revelations made to
him, under the character of some one else,
saying : " I know a man in Christ, whether in
the body or out of the body I cannot tell,
God knoweth, caught up even unto the third
heaven : and I know such a man, that he was
caught up into paradise and heard unspeak-
able words, which it is not lawful for man to
utter. "^

CHAPTER XXV.

The evidence of Scripture on changes of determination.

It is impossible for us briefly to run through
everything. For who could count up almost all
the patriarchs and numberless saints, some of
whom for the preservation of life, others out
of desire for a blessing, others out of pity,
others to conceal some secret, others out of
zeal for God, others in searching for the

3 On Piamun see the note on XVIIL i.

* 2 Cor. xii. 2-4.

470

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

truth, became, so to speak, patrons of lying?
And as all cannot be enumerated, so all ought
not to be altogether passed over. For piety
forced the blessed Joseph to raise a false
charge against his brethren even with an oath
by the life of the king, saying : '' Ye are
spies: to see the nakedness of the land are ye
come;" and below: "send," says he, "one
of you, and bring your brothers hither: but
ye shall be kept here until your words are
made manifest whether ye speak the truth or
no: but if not, by the life of Pharaoh, ye are
spies. " ^ For if he had not out of pity alarmed
them by this lie, he would not have been
able to see again his father and his brother,
nor to preserve them in their great danger of
starvation, nor to free the conscience of his
brethren from the guilt of selling him. The
act then of striking his brethren with fear by
means of a lie was not so reprehensible as
was it a holy and laudable act to urge his
enemies and seekers to a salutary penitence by
means of a feigned danger. Finally when
they were weighed down by the odium of the
very serious accusation, they were conscience-
stricken not at the charge falsely raised
against them, but at the thought of their
earlier crime, and said to one another: "We
suffer this rightly because we sinned against
our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his
soul when he asked us and we did not hearken
to him: wherefore all this trouble hath come
upon us."^ And this confession, we think,
expiated by most salutary humility their ter-
rible sin not only against their brother,
against whom they had sinned with wicked
cruelty, but also against God. What about
Solomon, who in his first judgment manifested
the gift of wisdom, which he had received of
God, only by making use of falsehood? For
in order to get at the truth which was hidden
by the woman's lie, even he used the help of a
lie most cunningly invented, saying: "Bring
me a sword and divide the living child into
two parts, and give the one half to the one and
the other half to the other." And when this
pretended cruelty stirred the heart of the true
mother, but was received with approval by
her who was not the true mother, then at last
by this most sagacious discovery of the truth he
pronounced the judgment which every one has
felt to have been inspired by God, saying :
"Give her the living child and slay it not:
she is the mother of it. " ^ Further we are more
fully taught by other passages of Scripture as
well that we neither can nor should carry out
everything which we determine either with
peace or disturbance of mind, as we often

' Gen. xlii. 9, 16.

2 lb. ver. 21. 3 , Kings in. 24-27.

hear that holy men and angels and even Al-
mighty God Himself have changed what they
f had decided upon. For the blessed David
: determined and confirmed it by an oath, say-
\ ing : " May God do so and add more to the
j foes of David if I leave of all that belong
I unto Nabal until the morning a single male."
j And presently when Abigail his wife inter-
I ceded and intreated for him, he gave up his
threats, lightened the sentence, and preferred
to be regarded as a breaker of his word rather
than to keep his pledged oath by cruelly exe-
cuting it, saying: "As the Lord liveth, if
thou hadst not quickly come to meet me there
had not been left to Nabal by the morning
light a single male." ^ And as we do not hold
that his readiness to take a rash oath (which
resulted from his anger and disturbance of
mind) ought to be copied by us, so we do
think that the pardon and revision of his
determination is to be followed. The " chosen
vessel," in writing to the Corinthians, prom-
ises unconditionally to return, saying: "But
I will come to you when I pass through Mace-
donia: for I will pass through Macedonia.
But I will stay or even pass the winter with
you that you may conduct me whithersoever I
shall go. For I do not want cnly to see you
in passing: for I hope to stay with you for
some time."^ And this fact he remembers in
the Second Epistle, thus: "And in this confi-
dence I was minded first to come unto you, that
ye might receive a second favour, and by you
to pass into Macedonia and again to come to
you from Macedonia and by you be conducted
to Judaea." But a better plan suggested itself
and he plainly admits that he is not going to
fulfil what he had promised. "When then,"
says he, "I purposed this, did I use light-
mindedness? or the things that I think, do I
think after the flesh, that there should be
with me yea, yea, and nay, nay?" Lastly, he
declares even with the affirmation of an oath,
why it was that he preferred to put on one side
his pledged word rather than by his presence
to bring a burden and grief to his disciples:
"But I call God to witness against my soul
that it was to spare you that I came not as far
as Corinth. For I determined this with myself
that I would not come unto you in sorrow."^
Though when the angels had refused to enter
the house of Lot at Sodom, saying to him :
"We will not enter but will remain in the
street," they were presently forced by his
prayers to change their determination, as
Scripture subjoins: "And Lot constrained
them, and they turned in to him."'' And

* I Sam. XXV. 22, 34.
^ I Cor. xvi. 5, 7.

" 2 Cor. i. 15-17, 23 , ii. i.
^ Gen. xix. 2, 3.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

471

certainly if they knew that they would turn
in to him, they refused his request with a
sham excuse : but if their excuse was a real
one, then they are clearly shown to have
changed their mind. And certainly we hold
that the Holy Spirit inserted this in the sa-
cred volume for no other reason but to teach
us by their examples that we ought not to
cling obstinately to our own determinations,
but to subject them to our will, and so to keep
our judgment free from all the chains of law
that it may be ready to follow the call of
good counsel in any direction, and may not
delay or refuse to pass without any delay to
whatever a sound discretion may find to be
the better choice. And to rise to still higher
instances, when king Hezekiah was lying on
his bed and afflicted with grievous sickness
the prophet Isaiah addressed him in the per-
son of God, and said: "Thus saith the Lord:
set thine house in order for thou shalt die and
not live. And Hezekiah," it says, "turned
his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord
and said: I beseech thee, O Lord, remember
how I have walked before Thee in truth and
with a perfect heart, and how I have done
what was right in Thy sight. And Hezekiah
wept sore." After which it was again said to
him: "Go, return, and speak to Hezekiah
king of Judah, saying: Thus saith the Lord
God of David thy father: I have heard thy
prayer, I have seen thy tears: and behold, I
will add to thy days fifteen years: and I will
deliver thee out of the hand of the king of
the Assyrians, and I will defend this city for
thy sake and for my servant David's sake."-^
What can be clearer than this proof that out
of consideration for mercy and goodness the
Lord would rather break His word and instead
of the pre-arranged limit of death extend the
life of him who prayed, for fifteen years,
rather than be found inexorable because of
His unchangeable decree? In the same way
too the Divine sentence says to the men of
Nineveh : " Yet three days, and Nineveh shall
be overthrown ; " - and presently this stern and
abrupt sentence is softened by their peni-
tence and fasting, and is turned to the side
of mercy with goodness that is easy to be
intreated. But if any one maintains that the
Lord had threatened the destruction of their
city (while He foreknew that they would be
converted) for this reason, that He might
incite them to a salutary penitence, it follows
that those who are set over their brethren may,
if need arises, without any blame for telling
lies, threaten those who need improvement
with severer treatment than they are really

^ 2 Kings XX. 1-6.

2 Jonah iii. 4 (LXX.).

going to inflict. But if one says that God
revoked that severe sentence in considera-
tion of their penitence, according to what
he says by Ezekiel : "If I say to the wicked,
Thou shalt surely die: and he becomes peni-
tent for his sin, and doeth judgment and
justice, he shall surely live, he shall not
die; "* we are similarly taught that we ought
not obstinately to stick to our determination,
but that we should with gentle pity soften
down the threats which necessity called forth.
And that we may not fancy that the Lord
granted this specially to the Ninevites, He
continually affirms by Jeremiah that He will
do the same in general towards all, and
promises that without delay He will change
His sentence in accordance with our deserts;
saying: "I will suddenly speak against a
nation and against a kingdom to root out
and to pull down and to destroy it. If that
nation repent of the evil, which I have spoken
against it, I also will repent of the evil which
I thought to do to them. And I will sud-
denly speak of a nation and a kingdom, to
build up and to plant it. If it shall do evil
in My sight, that it obey not My voice : I
will repent of the good that I thought to do
to it." To Ezekiel also: "Leave out not a
word, if so be they will hearken and be con-
verted every one from his evil way : that I
may repent Me of the evil that I thought to do
to them for the wickedness of their doings."*
And by these passages it is declared that we
ought not obstinately to stick to our decis-
ions, but to modify them with reason and
judgment, and that better courses should
always be adopted and preferred, and that we
should turn without any delay, to that course
which is considered the more profitable.
For this above all that invaluable sentence
teaches us, because though each man's end
is known beforehand to Him before his birth,
yet somehow He so orders all things by a plan
and method for all, and with regard to man's
disposition, that He decides on everything not
by the mere exercise of His power, nor ac-
cording to the inefi^able knowledge which His
Prescience possesses, but according to the
present actions of men, ^nd rejects or draws
to Himself each one, and daily either grants
or withholds His grace. And that this is so
the election of Saul also shows us, of whose
miserable end the foreknowledge of God cer-
tainlv could not be ignorant, and vet He chose
him out of so many thousands of Israel and
anointed him king, rewarding the then exi.sting
merits of his life, and not considering the sin
of his coming fall, so that after he became

Ezek. xxxiii. 14, 15.

* Jer. xviii. 7, 10 ; xxvi. 2, 3.

472

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

reprobate, God complains almost in human
terms and, with man's feelings, as if He re-
pented of his choice, saying: "It repenteth
Me that I have appointed Saul king: for he
hath forsaken Me, and hath not performed My
words;" and again: "But Samuel was grieved
for Saul because the Lord repented that He
had made Saul king over Israel." ^ Finally
this that He afterwards executed, that the
Lord also declares by the prophet Ezekiel
that He will by His daily judgment do with
all men, saying: "Yea, if I shall say to the
righteous that he shall surely live, and he
trusting in his righteousness commit iniquity:
all his righteousness shall be forgotten, and
in his iniquity which he hath committed, in
the same he shall die. And if I shall say to
the wicked: Thou shalt surely die; and if he
repent of his sin and do judgment and right-
eousness, and if that wicked man restore the
pledge and render what he hath robbed, and
walk in the commandments of life, and do
no righteous thing, he shall surely live, he
shall not die. None of his sins which he
hath committed shall be imputed unto him." ^
Finally, when the Lord would for their speedy
fall turn away His merciful countenance
from the people whom He had chosen out of i
all nations, the giver of the law interposes
on their behalf and cries out: "I beseech
Thee, O Lord, this people have sinned a great
sin; they have made for themselves gods of
gold; and now if Thou forgivest their sin, for-
give it ; but if not, blot me out of Thy book
which Thou hast written. To whom the Lord
answered: If any man hath sinned before Me,
I will blot him out of My book."^ David
also, when coniplaining in prophetic spirit of
Judas and the Lord's persecutors, says: "Let
them be blotted out of the book of the living; "
and because they did not deserve to come to
saving penitence because of the guilt of their
great sin, he subjoins: "And let them not be
written among the righteous."^ Finally in
the case of Judas himself the meaning of the
prophetic curse was clearly fulfilled, for when
his deadly sin was completed, he killed him-
self by hanging, that he might not after his
name was blotted ouf be converted and repent
and deserve to be once more written among
the righteous in heaven. We must therefore
not doubt that at the time when he was chosen
by Christ and obtained a place in the Apos-
tolate, the name of Judas was written in the
book of the living, and that he heard as well
as the rest the words : " Rejoice not because
the devils are subject unto you, but rejoice
because your names are written in heaven."^

' I Sam. XV. II, 35.
- Ezek. xxxiii. 13-16.

' Kxod. xxxii. 31-33.
* Ps. Ixviii. (Ixix.) 29.

'^ S. Luke x. 20.

But because he was corrupted by the plague
of covetousness and had his name struck out
from that heavenly list, it is suitably said of
him and of men like him by the prophet: "O
Lord, let all those that forsake Thee be con-
founded. Let them that depart from Thee be
written in the earth, because they have for-
saken the Lord, the vein of living waters."
And elsewhere: "They shall not be in the
counsel of My people, nor shall they be
written in the writing of the house of Israel,
neither shall they enter into the land of
Israel." ®

CHAPTER XXVI.

How saintly men cannot be hard and obstinate.

Nor must we omit the value of that com-
mand because even if we have bound ourselves
by some oath under the influence of anger
or some other passion, (a thing which ought
never to be done by a monk) still the case for
each side should be weighed by a thorough
judgment of the mind, and the course on
which we have determined should be com-
pared to that which we are urged to adopt,
and we should without hesitation adopt that
which on the occurrence of sounder considera-
tions is decided to be the best. For it is better
to put our promise on one side than to undergo
the loss of something good and more desir-
able. Finally we never remember that vener-
able and approved fathers were hard and
unyielding in decisions of this sort, but as
wax under the influence of heat, so they were
modified by reason, and when sounder coun-
sels prevailed, did not hesitate to give in to
the better side. But those whom we have seen
obstinately clinging to their determinations
we have always set down as unreasonable and
wanting in judgment.

CHAPTER XXVIL

A question whether tlie saying : " I have sworn and am
purposed " is opposed to the view given above.

Germanus: So far as this consideration is
concerned which has been clearly and fully
treated of, a monk ought never to determine
anything for fear lest he turn out a breaker of
his word or else obstinate. And what then
can we make of this saying of the Psalmist:
" I have sworn and am purposed to keep Thy
righteous judgments?"'^ What is " to swear
and purpose " except to keep one's determina-
tions fixedly?

6 Jer. xvii. 13 ; Ezek. xiii. 9.

' Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 106.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The answer tellins in what cases the determination is to be
kept tixcdly, and in what cases it may be bioi<en if need be.

Joseph: We do not lay this down with rc-
g^ard to those fundamental commands, without
which our salvation cannot in any way exist,
but with regard to those which we can either
relax or hold fast to without endangering our
state, as for instance, an unbroken and strict
fast, or total abstinence from wine or oil, or
entire prohibition to leave one's cell, or in-
cessant attention to reading and meditation,
all of which can be practised at pleasure, with-
out damage to our profession and purpose,
and, if need be, can be given up without
blame. But we must most resolutely make up
our minds to observe those fundamental com-
mands, and not even, if. need arise, to avoid
death in their cause, with regard to which we
must immovably assert : " I have sworn and
am purposed." And this should be done for
the preservation of love, for which all things
else should be disregarded lest the beauty and
perfection of its calm should suffer a stain.
In the same way we must swear for the purity
of our chastity, and we ought to do the same
for faith, and sobriety and justice, to all of
which we must cling with unchangeable per-
sistence, and to forsake which even for a little
is' worthy of blame. But in the case of those
bodily exercises, which are said to be profit-
able for a little,^ we must, as we said, decide
in such a way that, if there occurs any morb
decided opportunity for a good act, which
would lead us to relax them, we need not be
bound by any rule about them, but may give
them up and freely adopt what is more useful.
For in the case of those bodily exercises, if
they are dropped for a time, there is no
danger: but to have given up these others
even for a moment is deadly.

CHAPTER XXIX.

How we ought to do those things which are to be kept secret.

You must also provide with the same care
that if by chance some word has slipped out of
your mouth which you want to be a secret, no
injunction to secrecy may trouble the hearer.
For it M'ill be more likely to be unheeded if it
is let pass carelessly and simply, because the
brother, whoever he is, will not be tormented
with such a temptation to .divulge it, as he
will take it as something trivial dropped in

1 Cf. I Tim. iv. 8.

casual conversation, and as what is for this
very reason of less account, because it was
not committed to the liearer's mind with a
strict injunction to silence. For even if you
bind his faith by exacting an oath from him,
you need not doubt that it will very soon be
divulged; for a fiercer assault of the devil's
power will be made upon him, both to annoy
and betray you, and to make hnn break his
oath as quickly as possible.

CHAPTER XXX.

That no determination should be made on those things which
concern the needs of the common life.

And therefore a monk ought not hastily
to make any promise on those things which
merely concern bodily exercise, for fear lest he
may stir up the enemy still more to attack
what he is keeping as it were under the observ-
ance of the law, and so he may be more readily
compelled to break it. Since every one who
lives under the grace of liberty, and sets him-
self a law, thereby binds himself in a danger-
ous slavery, so that if by chance necessity
constrains him to do what he might have
ventured on lawfully, and indeed laudably
and with thanksgiving, he is forced to act as
a transgressor, and to fall into sin : " for where
there is no law there is no transgression." ^

By this instruction and the teaching of the
blessed Joseph we were confirmed as by a
Divine oracle and made up our minds to stop
in Egypt. But though henceforward we' were
but a little anxious about our promise, yet
when seven years were over we were very glad
to fulfil it. For we hastened to our monas-
tery, at a time when we were confident of
obtaining permission to return to the desert,
and first paid our respects properly to our
Elders; next we revived the former love in
their minds as out of the ardour of their love
they had not been at all softened by our very
frequent letters to satisfy them, and in the
last place, we entirely removed the sting of
our broken promise and returned to the re-
cesses of the desert of Scete, as they them-
selves forwarded us with joy.

This learning and doctrine of the illustrious
fathers, our ignorance, O holy brother, has to
the best of its ability made plain to you. And
if perhaps our clumsy style has confused it
instead of setting it in order, I trust that the
blame which our clumsiness deserves will not
interfere with the praise due to these grand

Rom. iv.

'5-

474

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

men. Since it seemed to us a safer course
in the sight of our Judge to state even in un-
adorned style this splendid doctrine rather
than to hold our tongues about it, since if he
considers the grandeur of the thoughts, the
fact that the awkwardness of our style annoys
him, need not be prejudicial to the profit of the
reader, and for our part we are more anxious
about its usefulness than its being praised.

This at least I charge all those into whose
hand this little book may fall; viz., that they
must know that whatever in it pleases them
belongs to the fathers, and whatever they dis-
like is all our own.^

' In this last chapter Cassian certainly makes his own the senti-
ments of Abbot Joseph on the permissibility of lying ; and is therefore
not unreasonably attacked for the teaching of this Conference by
Prosper. " Contra CoUatorem," c. ix.

THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF

JOHN CASSIAN.

. PREFACE.

When by the help of the grace of Christ I had published ten Conferences of the Fathers,
which were composed at the urgent request of the most blessed Helladius and Leontius, I
dedicated seven others to Honoratus a Bishop blessed in name as well as merits, and also to
that holy servant of Christ, Eucherius. The same number also I have thought good to dedi-
cate now to you, ,0 holy brothers, Jovinianus, Minervius, Leontius. and Theodore.^ Since the
last named of you founded that holy and splendid monastic rule in the province of Gaul, with
the strictness of ancient virtue, while the rest of you by your instructions have stirred up monks
not only before all to seek the common life of the ccenobia, but even to thirst eagerly for the
sublime life of the anchorite. For those Conferences of the best of the fathers are arransred
with such care, and so carefully considered in all respects, that they are suited to both modes
of life whereby you have made not only the countries of the West, but even the isles to
flourish with great crowds of brethren ; i.e., I mean that not only those who still remain in
congregations with praiseworthy subjection to rule, but those also who retire to no great dis-
tance from your monasteries, and try to carry out the rule of anchorites, may be more fully
instructed, according as the nature of the place and the character of their condition may
require. And to this your previous efforts and labours have especially contributed this, that,
as they are already prepared and practised in these exercises, they can more readily receive
the precepts and institutes of the Elders, and receiving into their cells the authors of the
Conferences together with the actual volumes of the Conferences and talking with them after
a fashion by daily questions and answers, they may not be left to their own resources to find
that way which is difficult and almost unknown in this country, but full of danger even there
where well-worn paths and numberless instances of those who have gone before are not
wanting, but may rather learn to follow the rule of the anchorite's life taught by their
examples, whom ancient tradition and industry and long experience have thoroughly
instructed.

1 See the introduction p. 189.

THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF

JOHN CASSIAN.

XVIII.
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN.

ON THE THREE SORTS OF MONKS.

CHAPTER I.

How we came to Diolcos and were received by Abbot Piamun.l

After visiting and conversing with those
three Elders, whose Conferences we have at
the instance of our brother Eucherius tried to
describe, as we were still more ardently de-
sirous to seek out the further parts of Egypt,
in which a larger and more perfect company
of saints dwelt, we came — urged not so much
by the necessities of our journey as by the
desire of visiting the saints who wei^e dwell-
ing there — to a village named Diolcos,^
lying on one of the seven mouths of the river
Nile. For when we heard of very many and
very celebrated monasteries founded by the
ancient fathers, like most eager merchants, at
once we undertook the journey on an uncertain
quest, urged on by the hope of greater gain.
And when we wandered about there for some
long time and fixed our curious eyes on those
mountains of virtue conspicuous for their
lofty height, the gaze of those around first
singled out Abbot Pianiun, the senior of all
the anchorites living there and their presbyter,
as if he were some tall lighthouse. For he
was set on the top of a high mountain like
that city in the gospel,^ and at once shed his
light on our faces, whose virtues and miracles,
which were wrought by him under our very

1 Piamun, who lias been already spoken of in XVII. xxiv., is also
mentioned by Rufinus (History of the Monks, c. xxxii.), Palladius
(the Lausiac History, clxxii.), and Sozomen (H. E. VI. xxix.), all of
whom tell, with slight variations, the same story, how that one day
while he was officiating at the altar, he saw an angel writing down the
names of some of the brethren, and passing by the names of others,
all of whom Piamun on subsequent inquiry found to have been
guilty of some grievous sin.

- On Diolcos see on the Institutes V. xxxvi.

' Cf. S. Matt. V. 14.

eyes, Divine Grace thus bearing witness to
his excellence, if we are not to exceed the
plan and limits of this volume, we feel we
must pass over in silence. For we promised
to commit to memory what we could recollect,
not of the miracles of God, but of the insti-
tutes and pursuits of the saints, so as to
supply our readers merely with necessary in-
struction for the perfect life, and not with
matter for idle and useless admiration without
any correction of their faults. And so when
Abbot Piamun had received us with welcome,
and had refreshed us with becoming kindness,
as he understood that we were not of the same
country, he first asked us anxiously whence or
why we had visited Egypt, and when he dis-
covered that we had come thither from a
monastery in Syria out of desire for perfection
he began as follows : —

CHAPTER II.

The words of Abbot Piamun, how monks who were novices
ought to be taught by the example of their elders.

Whatever man, my children, is desirous to
attain skill in any art, unless he gives himself
up with the utmost pains and carefulness to
the study of that system which he is anxious
to. learn, and observes the rules and orders of
the best masters of that work or science, is
indulging in a vain hope to reach by idle
wishes any similarity to those whose pains
and diligence he avoids copying. For we
know that some have come from your country
to these parts, only to go round the monas-
teries for the sake of getting to know the
brethren, not meaning to adopt the rules and

479

48o

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

regulations, for the sake of which they
ti:avelled hither, nor to retire to the cells and |
aim at carrying out in action what they had ■
learnt by sight or by teaching. And these i
people retained their character and pursuits
to which they had grown accustomed, and, as
is thrown in their teeth by some, are held to
have changed their country not for the sake of
their profit, but owing to the need of escaping
want. For in the obstinacy of their stubborn
mind, they not only could learn nothing, but
actually would not stay any longer in these
parts. For if they changed neither their
method of. fasting, nor their scheme of Psalms,
nor even the fashion of their garments, what
else could we think that they were after in
this country, except only the supply of their
victuals.

CHAPTER III.

How the juniors ought not to discuss the orders of the seniors.

Wherefore if, as we believe, the cause of
God has drawn you to try to copy our know-
ledge, you must utterly ignore all the rules by
which your early beginnings were trained, and
must with all humility follow whatever you
see our Elders do or teach. And do not be
troubled or drawn away and diverted from im-
itating it, even if for the moment the cause or
reason of any deed or action is not clear to
you, because if men have good and simple
ideas on all things and are anxious faithfully
to copy whatever they see taught or done by
their Elders, instead of discussing it, then the
knowledge of all things will follow through
experience of the work. But he will never
enter into the reason of the truth, who begins
to learn by discussion, because as the enemy
sees that he trusts to his own judgment rather
than to that of the fathers' he easily urges
him on so far till those things which are
especially useful and helpful seem to him un-
necessary or injurious, and the crafty foe so
plays upon his presumption, that by obsti-
nately clinging to his own opinion he per-
suades himself that only that is holy, which
he himself in his pig-headed error thinks to
be good and right.

CHAPTER IV.

Of the three sorts of monks which there are in Egypt.

Wherefore you should first hear how or
whence the system and beginning of our order
took its rise. For only then can a man at all
effectually be trained in any art he may wish.

and be urged on to practise it diligently,
when he has learnt the glory of its authors
and founders. There are three kinds of
monks in Egypt, of which two are admirable,
the third is a poor sort of thing and by all
means to be avoided. The first is that of
the coenobites, who live together in a congre-
gation and are governed by the direction of a
single Elder: and of this kind there is the
largest number of monks dwelling through-
out the whole of Egypt. The second is that
of the anchorites, Vv^ho were first trained in the
coenobium and then being made perfect in
practical life chose the recesses of the desert:
and in this order we also hope to gain a place.
The third is the reprehensible one of the Sa?-a-
baites} And of these we will discourse more
fully one by one in order. Of these three
orders then you ought, as we said, first to
know about the founders. For at once from
this there may arise either a hatred for the
order which is to be avoided, or a longing for
that which is to be followed, because each way
is sure to carry the man who follows it, to
that end which its author and discoverer has
reached.

CHAPTER V.

Of the founders who originated the order of coenobites.

And so the system of coenobites took its
rise in the days of the preaching of the
Apostles. For such was all that multitude of
believers in Jerusalem, which is thus described
in the Acts of the Apostles: "But the multi-
tude of believers was of one heart and one
soul, neither said any of them that any of the
things which he possessed was his own, but
they had all things common. They sold their
possessions and property and divided them
to all, as any man had need." And again:
" For neither was there any among them that
lacked; for as many as possessed fields or
houses, sold them and brought the price of
the things that they sold and laid them before
the feet of the Apostles: and distribution was
made to every man as he had need."^ The
whole Church, I say, was then such as now
are those few who can be found with difficulty
in coenobia. But when at the death of the
Apostles the multitude of believers began to
wax cold, and especially that multitude which
had come to the faith of Christ from diverse
foreign nations, from whom the Apostles out
of consideration for the infancy of their faith
and their ingrained heathen habits, required
nothing more than that thev should " abstain

1 See the note on c. vii.

.\cts iv. 32; ii. 45 ; iv. 34, 35.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN.

481

from things sacrificed to idols and from forni-
cation, and from things strangled, and from
blood,'' ^ and so that liberty which was con-
ceded to the Gentiles because of the weak-
ness of their newly-born faith, had by degrees
begun to mar the perfection of that Church
which existed at Jerusalem, and the fervour
of that early faith cooled down owing to the
daily increasing number both of natives and
foreigners, and not only those who had ac-
cepted the faith of Christ, but even those who
were the leaders of the Church relaxed some-
what of that strictness. For some fancying
that what they saw permitted to the Gen-
tiles because of their weakness, was also
allowable for themselves, thought that they
would suffer no loss if they followed the faith
and confession of Christ keeping their pro-
perty and possessions. But those who still
maintained the fervour of the apostles, mind-
ful of that former perfection left their cities
and intercourse with those who thought that
carelessness and a laxer life was permissible
to themselves and the Church of God, and
began to live in rural and more sequestered
spots, and there, in private and on their own
account, to practise those things which they
had learnt to have been ordered by the apos-
tles throughout the whole body of the Church
in general: and so that whole system of which
we have spoken grew up from those dis-
ciples who had separated themselves from
the evil that was spreading. And these, as by
degrees time went on, were separated from
the great mass of believers and because they
abstained from marriage and cut themselves
off from intercourse with their kinsmen and
the life of this world, were termed monks or
, solitaries from the strictness of their lonely
and solitary life. Whence it followed that
from their common life they were called
coenobites and their cells and lodgings cce-
nobia. That then alone was the earliest kind
of monks, which is first not only in time but
also in grace, and which continued unbroken
for a very long period up to the time of Abbot
Paul and Antony; and even to this day we
see its traces remaining in strict ccenobia

CHAPTER VL

Of the system of the Anchorites and its beginning.

Out of this number of the perfect, and, if
I may use the expression, this most fruitful
root of saints, were produced afterwards the

^ Acts XV. 29.

flowers and fruits of the anchorites as well.
And of this order we have heard that the
originators were those whom we mentioned
just now; viz., Saint Paul'- and Antony, men
who frequented the recesses of the desert, not
as some from faintheartedness, and the evil
of impatience, but from a desire for loftier
heights of perfection and divine contempla-
tion, although the former of them is said t-^
have found his way to the desert by reason of
necessity, while during the time of persecu-
tion he was avoiding the plots of his neigh-
bours. So then there sprang from that system
of which we have spoken another sort of per-
fection, whose followers are rightly termed
anchorites; i.e., withdrawers, because, being
by no means satisfied with that victory where-
by they had trodden under foot the hidden
snares of the devil, while still living among
men, they were eager to fight with the devils
in open conflict, and a straightforward battle,
and so feared not to penetrate the vast re-
cesses of the desert, imitating, to wit, John
the Baptist, who passed all his life in the
desert, and Elijah and Elisha and those of
whom the Apostle speaks as follows: "They
wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins,
, being in want, distressed, afilicted, of whom
j the world was not worthy, wandering in
deserts, in mountains and in dens and in caves
of the earth." Of whom too the Lord speaks
: figuratively to Job : "■ But who hath sent out
the wild ass free, and who hath loosed his
bands? To whom I have given the w'ilder-
ness for an house, and a barren land for his
j dwelling. He scorneth the multitude of the
' city and heareth not the cry of the driver; he
looketh round about the mountains of his
! pasture, and seeketh for every green thing."
■ In the Psalms also: "Let now the redeemed
of the Lord say, those whom He hath re-
deemed from the hand of the enemy ; " and
after a little : " They wandered in a wilderness
in a place without water: they found not the
way of a city of habitation. They were hungry
and thirsty: their soul fainted in them. And
they cried unto the Lord in their trouble
and He delivered them out of their dis-
tress;" whom Jeremiah too describes as fol-
lows: "Blessed is the man that hath borne
the yoke from his youth. He shall sit soli-
tary and hold his peace because he liath
taken it up upon himself," and there sing in
heart and deed these words of the Psalmist:

- Paul was from very early days celebrated as the first of thean-
cliorites. Indeed S. Jerome, who wrote his life (Works, Vol. ii.
p. 13 ed. Migne) calls him " auctor vitae monasticae " (Ep. xxii. ad
Eustochium). He is said to have fled to the Thebaid from the terrors
of the Decian persecution, and to have died there in extreme old age.
Antony has already been several times mentioned by Cassian. See
tlie Institutes V. iv. : Conference II. ii. ; III. iv., etc.

482

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

"I am become like a pelican in the wilder-
ness. I watched and am become like a
sparrow alone upon the house-top." ^

CHAPTER VII.

Of the origin of the Sarabaites and their mode of life.

And while the Christian religion was re-
joicing in these two orders of monks though
this system had begun by degrees to deteri-
orate, there arose afterwards that disgusting
and unfaithful kind of monks; or rather,
that baleful plant revived and sprang up
again which when it first shot up in the per-
sons of Ananias and Sapphira in the early
Church was cut off by the severity of the
Apostle Peter — • a kind which among monks
has been for a long while considered detestable
and execrable, and which was adopted by no
one any more, so long as there remained
stamped on the memory of the faithful the
dread of tli.it very severe sentence, in which
the blessed Apostle not merely refused to
allow the aforesaid originators of the novel
crime to be cured by penitence or any amends,
but actually destroyed that most dangerous
germ by their speedy death. When then that
precedent, which was punished with Apostoli-
cal severity in the case of Ananias and Sap-
phira had by degrees faded from the minds
of some, owing to long carelessness and for-
getfulness from lapse of time, there arose the
race of Sarabaites, who owing to the fact
that they have broken away from the congre-
gations of the coenobites and each look
after their own affairs, are rightly named in
the Egyptian language Sarabaites,- and these
spring from the number of those, whom we
have mentioned, who wanted to imitate rather
than truly to aim at Evangelical perfection,
urged thereto by rivalry or by the praises of
those who preferred the complete poverty of
Christ to all manner of riches. These then
while in their feeble mind they make a pre-
tence of the greatest goodness and are forced
by necessity to join this order, while they are
anxious to be reckoned by the name of monks
without emulating their pursuits, in no sort

1 Heb. xi. 37, 38; Job xxxix. 5-8; Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 2, 4-6; Lam.
iii. 27, 28; Ps. d. (cii.) 7, 8.

2 Sarabaites, this third sort of monks, whom Cassian here paints
in such dark colours, are spoken of l>y S. Jerome (Ep. xxii. ad Eusto-
chium) under the name of Remoboth. The origin of both names is
obscure, but Jerome and Cassian are quite at one in their scorn for
these pretended monks. S. Benedict begins his monastic rule by
describing tlie four kinds of monks, coenobites, anchorites, sara-
baites, and a fourtli class to which he gives the name of " ^rovagi,"
i. e., wandering monks ; these must be those of whom Cassian speaks
below in c. viii. without giving them any definite name. See further
I'.ingham, Antiquities VII. ii., and the Dictionary of Christian An-
li-iuities, .-^rt. Sarabaites.

of way practise discipline, or are subject to
the will of the Elders, or, taught by their
traditions, learn to govern their own wills or
take up and properly learn any rule of sound
discretion ; but making their renunciation only
as a public profession, i.e., before the face of
men, either continue in their homes devoted
to the same occupations as before, though
dignified by this title, or building cells for
themselves and calling them monasteries re-
main in them perfectly free and their own
masters, never submitting to the precepts of
the gospel, which forbid them to be busied
with any anxiety for the day's food, or troubles
about domestic matters: commands which
those alone fulfil with no unbelieving doubt,
who have freed themselves from all the goods
of this world and subjected themselves to the
superiors of the coenobia so that they cannot
admit that they are at all their own masters.
But those who, as we said, shirk the severity
of the monastery, and live two or three to-
gether in their cells, not satisfied to be under
the charge and rule of an Abbot, but arran-
ging chiefly for this; viz., that they may get
rid of the yoke of the Elders and have liberty
to carry out their wishes and go and wander
where they will, and do what they like, these
men are more taken up both day and night in
daily business than those who live in the
coenobia, but not with the same faith and
purpose. For these Sarabaites do it not to
submit the fruits of their labours to the will
of the steward, but to procure money to lay
by. And see what a difference there is be-
tween them. For the others think nothing of
the morrow, and offer to God the most accept-
able fruits of their toil: while these extend
their faithless anxiety not only to the morrow,
but even to the space of many years, and
so fancy that God is either false or im-
potent as He either could not or would not
grant them the promised supply of food and
clothing. The one seek- this in all their
prayers; viz., that they may gain fxy.ir,unu{.rijv^
i.e., the deprivation of all things, and lasting
poverty: the other that they may secure a rich
quantity of all sorts of supplies. The one
eagerly strive to go beyond the fixed rule of
daily work that whatever is not wanted for
the sacred purposes of the monastery, may be
distributed at the will of the Abbot either
among the prisons, or in the guest-chamber
or in \he infirmary or to the poor; the others
that whatever the day's gorge leaves over,
may be useful for extravagant wants or else
laid by through the sin of covetousness.
Lastly, if we grant that what has been col-
lected by them" with no good design, may be
disposed of in better ways .than we have men-

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN.

483

tioned, yet not even thus do they rise to the
merits of goodness and perfection. For the
others bring in such returns to the monastery,
and daily report to them, and continue in such
humility and subjection that they are deprived
of their rights over what they gain by their
own efforts, just as they are of their rights
over themselves, as they constantly renew the
fervour of their original act of renunciation,
while they daily deprive themselves of the
fruits of their labours: but these are puffed
up by the fact that they are bestowing some-
thing on the poor, and daily fall headlong
into sin. The one party are by patience and
the strictness whereby they continue devoutly
in the order which they have once embraced,
so as never to fulfil their own will, crucified
daily to this world and made living martyrs;
the others are cast down into hell by the
lukewarmness of their purpose. These two
sorts of monks then vie with each other in
almost equal numbers in this province; but in
other provinces, which the need of the Catho-
lic faith compelled me to visit, we have found
that this third class of Sarabaites flourishes
and is almost the only one, since in the time
of Lucius who was a Bishop of Arian mis-
belief ^ in the reign of Valens, while we car-
ried alms^ to our brethren; viz., those from
Eg3-pt and the Thebaid, who had been con-
signed to the mines of Pontus and Armenia^
for their steadfastness in the Catholic faith,
though we found the system of ccenobia in
some cities few and far between, yet we never
made out that even the name of anchorites
was heard among them.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of a fourth sort of monks.

There is however another and a fourth
kind, which we have lately seen springing up
anions: those who flatter themselves with the
appearance and form of anchorites, and who
in their early days seem in a brief fervour
to seek the perfection of the ccenobium, but
presently cool off, and, as they dislike to put
an end to their former habits and faults, and

1 Lucius took the lead of the Arian party at Alexandria after the
murder of George of Cappadncia in 361, and was put forward by his
partv as the candidate for the see which they regarded as vacant.
In 373, after the death of Athanasius, he was forced upon the reluc-
tant Church of Alexandria by tlie Arian Emperor Valens, and accord-
ing to Gregory Nazianzen a fresh pevsecucion of the orthodox party
at once began ; and to this it is that Piamun alludes in the text.

2 Diaconia. The word is used again by Cassian for almsgiving
in Conf. XXI. i., viii., ix., and cf. Gregory the Great, Ep. xxii., and
compare eis h<.a.Kovi,a.v in Acts xi. 29.

3 To work in the mines was a punishment' to which the Confessors
were frequently subjected in the time of persecution : Cf. the prayer
in. the Liturgy of S. Mark that God would have mercy on those in
prison, or in the mines, etc. Hammond^s Liturgies, p. 181.

are not satisfied to bear the yoke of humility
and patience any longer, and scorn to be in
subjection to the rule of the Elders, look out
for separate cells and want to remain by them-
selves alone, that as they are provoked by no-
body they may be regarded by men as patient,
gentle, and humble: and, this arrangement,
or rather this lukewarmness never suffers
those, of whom it has once got hold, to ap-
proach to perfection, for in this way their
faults are not merely not rooted up, but
actually grow worse, while they are excited by
no one, like some deadly and internal poison
which the more it is concealed, so much the
more deeply does it creep in and cause an
incurable disease to the sick person. For out
of respect for each man's own cell no one
ventures to reprove the faults of a solitary,
which he would rather have ignored than
cured. Moreover virtues are created not by
hiding faults but by driving them out.

CHAPTER IX.

A question as to what is the difference between a coenobium
and a monastery.

Germanus: Is there any distinction be-
tween a coenobium and a monastery, or is
the same thing meant by either name .''

CHAPTER X.

The answer.

Piamun: Although many people indiffer-
ently speak of monasteries instead of ccenobia,
yet there is this difference, that monastery is
the title of the dwelling, and means nothing
more than the place, i.e., the habitation of
monks, while coenobium describes the cha-
racter of the life and its system: and monas-
tery may mean the dwelling of a single monk,
while a ccenobium cannot be spoken of except
where dwells a united community of a large
number of men living together. They are
however termed monasteries in which groups
of Sarabaites live.

CHAPTER XL

Of true humility, and how Abbot Serapion exposed the mock
humility of a certain man.

Wherefore as I see that you have learnt
the first principles of this life from the best
sort of monks, i.e., that starting from the ex-
cellent school of the ccenobium you are aim-

484

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

ing at the lofty heights of the anchorite's
rule, you should with genuine feeling of heart
pursue the virtue of humility and patience,
which I doubt not that you learnt there; and
not feign it, as some do, by mock humility in
words, or by an artificial and unnecessary
readiness for some duties of the body. And
this sham humility Abbot Serapion -^ once
laughed to scorn most capitally. For when one
had come to him making a great display of his
lowliness by his dress and words, and the old
man urged him, after his custom, to "collect
the prayer " - he would not consent to his re-
quest, but debasing himself declared that he
was involved in such crimes that he did not
deserve even to breathe the air which is com-
mon to all, and refusing even the use of the
mat preferred to sit down on the bare ground.
But when he had shown still less inclination
for the washing of the feet, then Abbot Sera-
pion, when supper was finished, and the cus-
tomary Conference gave him an opportunity,
began kindly and gently to urge him not to
roam with shifty lightmindedness over the
whole world, idly and vaguely, especially as
he was young and strong, but to keep to his
cell in accordance wath the rule of the Elders,
and to elect to be supported by his own efforts
rather than by the bounty of others; which
even the Apostle Paul would not allow, and
though when he was labouring in the cause of
the gospel this provision might rightly have
been made for him, yet he preferred to work
night and day, to provide daily food for him-
self and for those who were ministering to
him and could not do the work with their ov.-n
hands. Whereupon the other was filled with
such vexation and disgust that he could not
hide by his looks the annoyance which he felt
in his heart. To whom the Elder: Thus far,
my son, you have loaded yourself with the
weight of all kinds of crimes, not fearing lest
by the confession of such awful sins you bring
a reproach upon your reputation ; how is it
then, I pray, that now, at our simple admo-
nition, which involved no reproof, but simply
showed a feeling for your edification and love,
I see that you are moved with such disgust
that you cannot hide it by your looks, or con-
ceal it by an appearance of calmness ? Per-
haps while you were humiliating yourself, you
were hoping to hear from our lips this saying:
"The righteous man is the accviser of him-
self in the opening of his discourse.''"^
Further, true humility of heart must be pre-
served, wliich comes not from an affected
humbling of body and in word, but from an

' On Serapion see the note on Conf. V. i.

' Orationem Colligere. See the notes on the Institutes III. vh.

^ Prov. xviii. 17.

inward humbling of the soul: and this will
only then shine forth with clear evidences of
patience when a man does not boast about
sins, which nobody will believe, but, when
another insolently accuses him of them, thinks
nothing of it, and when with gentle equanimity
of spirit he puts up with wrongs offered to
him.

CHAPTER XII.

A question how true patience can be gained.

Germanus: We should like to know how
that calmness can be secured and maintained,
that, as when silence is enjoined on us we
shut the door of our mouth, and lay an em-
bargo on speech, so also we may be able to
preserve gentleness of heart, which sometimes
even when the tongue is restrained loses its
state of calmness within: and for this reason
we think that the blessing of gentleness can
only be preserved by one in a remote cell and
solitary dwelling.

CHAPTER XIII.

The answer.

Piamun: True patience and tranquillity is
neither gained nor retained without profound
humility of heart: and if it has sprung from
this source, there will be no need either of
the good offices of the cell or of the refuge of
the desert. For it will seek no external sup-
port from anything, if it has the internal sup-
port of the virtue of humility, its mother and
its guardian. But if we are disturbed when
attaclvcd by anyone it is clear that the founda-
tions of humility have not been securely laid
in us, and therefore at the outbreak even of a
small storm, our whole edifice is shaken and
ruinously disturbed. For patience would not
be worthy of praise and admiration if it only
preserved its purposed tranquillity when at-
tacked by no darts of enemies, but it is grand
and glorious because when the storms of
temptation beat upon it, it remains unmoved.
For wherein it is believed that a man is
annoyed and hurt by adversity, therein is he
strengthened the more; and he is therein the
more exercised, wherein he is thought to be
annoyed. For everybody knows that patience
gets its name from the passions and endur-
ance, and so it is clear that no one can be
called patient but one who bears without an-
noyance all the indignities offered to him,
and so it is not without reason that he is
praised by Solomon: "Better is the patietit

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN.

485

man than the strong, and he who restrains his
anger than he who takes a city; " and again:
'• For a long-suffering man is mighty in pru-
dence, but a faint-hearted man is very fool-
ish. " ^ When then anyone is overcome by
a wrong, and blazes up in a lire of anger, we
should not hold that the bitterness of the in-
sult oiifered to him is the cause of his sin, but
rather the manifestation of secret weakness, in
accordance with the parable of our Lord and
Saviour which He spoke about the two
houses,^ one of which was founded upon a
rock, and the other upon the sand, on both of
which He says that the tempest of rain and
waters and storm beat equally: but that one
which was founded on the solid rock felt no
harm at all from the violence of the shock,
w^hile that which was built on the shifting and
moving sand at once collapsed. And it cer-
tainly appears that it fell, not because it was
struck by the rush of the storms and torrents,
but because it was imprudently built upon
the sand. For a saint does not differ from a
sinner in this, that he is not himself tempted
in the same wav, but because he is not worsted
even by a great assault, while the other is over-
come even by a slight temptation. For the for-
titude of any good man would not, as we said,
be worthy of praise, if his victory was gained
without his being tempted, as most certainly
there is no room for victory where there is
no struggle and conflict: for "Blessed is the
man that endureth temptation, for when he has
been proved he shall receive the crown of life
W'hich God hath promised to them that love
Him.'* ^ According to the Apostle Paul also
" Strength is made perfect " not in ease and
delights but " in weakness." "For behold,"
says He, '" I have made thee this day a forti-
fied city, and a pillar of iron, and a wall of
brass, over all the land, to the kings of Judah,
and to the princes thereof, and to the priests
thereof, and to all the people of the land.
And they shall fight against thee, and shall
not prevail : for I am with thee, saith the
Lord, to deliver thee."^

CHAPTER XIV.

Of the example of patience given b}- a certain religious woman.

Of this patience then I want to give you at
least two examples: one of a certain religious
woman, who aimed at the virtue of patience
so ea""erlv that she not onlv did not avoid the
assaults of temptation, but actually made for

^ Prov. xvi. 32 ; xiv. 29.
2 Cf. S. Matt. vii. 24, 59.

' S. James i. 12.

^ 2 Cor. xii. 9 ; Jer. i. iS, 19.

herself occasions of trouble that she might
not cease to be tried more often. For this
woman as she was living at Alexandria and
was born of no mean ancestors, and was serv-
ing the Lord religiously in the house which
had been left to her by her parents, came to
Athanasius the Bishop, of blessed memory,
and entreated him to give her some other
widow to support, who was being provided
for at the expense of the Church. And, to
give her petition in her own words: "Give
me," she said, "one of the sisters to look
after." When then the Bishop had com-
mended the woman's purpose because he saw^
that she was very ready for a work of a mercy,
he ordered a widow to be chosen out of the
whole number, who was preferred to all the rest
for the goodness of her character, and her
grave and well-regulated life, for fear lest her
w^ish to be liberal might be overcome by the
fault of the recipient of her bounty, and she
who sought gain out of the poor might be
disgusted at her bad character and so suffer
an injury to her faith. And when the woman
was brought home, she ministered to her with
all kinds of service, and found out her excel-
lent modesty and gentleness, and saw that
every minute she was honoured by thanks
from her for her kind offices, and so after a
few days she came back to the aforesaid
Bishop, and said: I asked you to bid that a
woman be given to me for me to support and
to serve with obedient complaisance. And
when he, not yet understanding the woman's
object and desire, thought that her petition
had been neglected by the deceitfulness of the
superior, and inquired not without some anger
in his mind, what was the reason of the delay,
at once he discovered that a widow who was
better than all the rest had been assigned to
her, and so he secretly gave orders that the
one who was the worst of all should be given
to her, the one, I mean, who surpassed in
anger and quarrelling and wine-bibbing and
talkativeness all who were under the power
of these faults. And when she was only too
easily found and given to her, she began to
keep her at home, and to minister to her with
the same care as to the former widow, or even
more attentively, and this was all the thanks
which she got from her for her services ; viz. , to
be constantly tried by unworthy wrongs and
continually annoyed by her by reproaches
and upbraiding, as she complained of her, and
chid her with spiteful and disparaging re-
marks, because she had asked for her from
the Bishop not for her refreshment but rather
for her torment and annoyance, and had taken
her away from rest to labour instead of from
labour to rest. When then her continual re-

486

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

preaches broke out so far that the wanton
woman did not restrain herself from laying
hands on her, the other only redoubled her
services in still humbler offices, and learnt to
overcome the vixen not by resisting her, but
by subjecting herself still more humbly, so
that, when provoked by all kinds of indig-
nities, she might smooth down the madness
of the shrew by gentleness and kindness.
And when she had been thoroughly strength-
ened by these exercises, and had attained the
perfect virtue of the patience she had longed
for, she came to the aforesaid Bishop to thank
him for his decision and choice as well as for
the blessing of her exercise, because he had
at last as she wished provided her with a most
worthy mistress for her patience, strengthened
daily by whose constant annoyance as by
some oil for wrestling, she had arrived at
complete patience of mind; and, at last, said
she, you have given me one to support, for
the former one rather honoured and refreshed
me by her services. This may be sufficient
to have told about the female sex, that by
this tale we may not only be edified, but even
confounded, as tcie cannot maintain our pa-
tience unless we are like wild beasts removed
in caves and cells.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the example of patience given by Abbot Paphnutius.

Now let us give the other instance of Abbot
Paphnutius, who always remained so zeal-
ously in the recesses of that renowned and
far-famed desert of Scete, in which he is now
Presbyter, so that the rest of the anchorites
gave him the name of Bubalis,^ because he
always delighted in dwelling in the desert as
if with a sort of innate liking. And so as
even in boyhood he was so good and full of
grace that even the renowned and great men
of that time admired his gravity and steadfast
consfancy, and although he was younger in
age, yet put him on a level with the Elders
out of regard for his virtues, and thought fit
to admit him to their order, the same envy,
which formerly excited the minds of his
brethren against the patriarch Joseph, in-
flamed one out of the number of his brethren
with a burning and consuming jealousy. And
this man wanting to mar his beauty by some
blemish or spot, hit on this kind of devilry,
so as to seize an opportunity when Paphnutius
had left his cell to go to Church on Sunday:
and secretly entering his cell he slyly hid his

^ i.e., the Buffalo. On Paphnutius see the note on Conf. III.

own book among the boughs which he used
to weave of palm branches, and, secure of his
well-planned trick, himself went off as if with
a pure and clean conscience to Church. And
when the whole service was ended as usual,
in the presence of all the brethren he brought
his complaint to S. Isidore'^ who was Presby-
ter of this desert before this same Paphnutius,
and declared that his book had been stolen
from his cell. And when his complaint had
so disturbed the minds of all the brethren,
and more especially of the Presbyter, so that
they knew not what first to suspect or think,
as all were overcome with the utmost astonish-
ment at so new and unheard of a crime, such
as no one remembered ever to have been com-
mitted in that desert before that time, and
which has never happened since, he who had
brought forward the matter as the accuser
urged that they should all be kept in Church
and certain selected men be sent to search
the cells of the brethren one by one. And
when this had been entrusted to three of the
Elders by the Presbyter, they turned over the
bed-chambers of them all, and at last found
the book hidden in the cell of Paphnutius
among the boughs of the palms which they
call oeiQu, just as the plotter had hidden it.
And when the inquisitors at once brought it
back to the Church and produced it before
all, Paphnutius, although he was perfectly
clear in the sincerity of his conscience, yet like
one who acknowledged the guilt of thieving,
gave himself up entirely to make amends and
humbly asked for a plan of repentance, as he
was so careful of his shame and modesty (and
feared) lest if he tried to remove the stain
of the theft by words, he might further be
branded as a liar, as no one would believe
anything but what had been found out. And
when he had immediately left the Church not
cast down in mind but rather trusting to the
judgment of God, he continually shed tears at
his prayers, and fasted thrice as often as
before, and prostrated himself in the sight of
men with all humility of mind. But when he
had thus submitted himself with all contrition
of flesh and spirit for almost a fortnight, so
that he came early on the morning of Satur-
day and Sunday not to receive the Holy Com-
munion ^ but to prostrate himself on the
threshold of the Church and humblv ask for
pardon, He, \A'ho is the witness of all secret
things and knows them, suffered him to be no

" Gazet thinks tliat this Isidore is the same person as the one
mentioned in tlie Lausiac Hisfor>' c. i. ; and Sozomen VI. xxviii.,
but doubts whetlier he is identical with the person of the same name
mentioned in Rufinus : Histor>' of the Monks c. xvii., Sozomen VIII.
xii., and Socrates VI. ix.

2 On the Saturday and Sunday celebration of the Holy Commun-
ion in Egypt compare tlie Institutes III. ii. In Gaul it was appar-
ently received daily: Institutes VI. viii.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN.

487

longer tried by Himself or defamed by others.
For whnt the author of the crime, the wicked
thief of his own property, ti^e cunning de-
famer of another's credit, had done with no
man there as a witness, that He made known
by means of the devil who was himself the
instigator of the sin. For possessed by a
most fierce demon, he made known all the
craft of his secret plot, and the same man who
had conceived the accusation and the cheat
betrayed it. But he was so long and griev-
ously vexed by that unclean spirit that he
could not even be restored by the prayers of the
saints living there, who by means of divine
gifts can command the devils, nor could the
special grace of the Presbyter Isidore himself
cast out from him his cruel tormenter, though
by the Lord's bounty such power was given
him that no one who was possessed was ever
brought to his doors without being at once
healed; for Christ was reserving this glory
for the young Paphnutius, that the man
should be cleansed only by the prayers of him
against whom he had plotted, and that the
jealous enemy should receive pardon for his
offence and an end of his present punishment,
only by proclaiming his name, from whose
credit he had thought that he could detract.
He then in his early youth already gave these
signs of his future character, and even in his
boyish years sketched the lines of that perfec-
tion which was to grow up in mature age. If
then we want to attain to his height of virtue,
we must lay the same foundation to begin
► with.

CHAPTER XVI.

On the perfection of patience.

A TWOFOLD reason however led me to relate
this fact, first that we may weigh this stead-
fastness and constancy of the man, and as
we are attacked by less serious wiles of the
enemy, may the better secure a greater feeling
of calmness and patience, secondly that we
may with resolute decision hold that we can-
not be safe from the storms of temptation and
assaults of the devil if we make all the pro-
tection for our patience and all our confidence
consist not in the strength of our inner man
but in the doors of our cell or the recesses of
the desert, and companionship of the saints,
or the safeguard of anything else outside us.
For unless our mind is strengthened by the
power of His protection Who says in the
gospel "the kingdom of God is within you," ^
in vain do we fancy that we can defeat the
plots of our airy foe by the aid of men who

are living with us, or that we can avoid them
by distance of place, or exclude them by the
protection of walls. For though none of these
things was wanting to Saint Paphnutius yet
the tempter did not fail to find a way of ac-
cess against him to attack him; nor did the
encircling walls, or the solitude of the desert
or the merits of all those saints in the con-
gregation repulse that most foul spirit. But
because the holy servant of God had fixed the
hope of his heart not on those external things
but on Him \\'ho is the judge of all secrets,
he could not be moved even by the machi-
nations of such an assault as that. On the
other hand did not the man whom envy had
hurried into so grievous a sin enjoy the bene-
fit of solitude and the protection of a retired
dwelling, and intercourse with the blessed
Abbot and Presbyter Isidore and other saints?
And yet because the storm raised by the devil
found him upon the sand, it not only drove
in his house but actually overturned it. We
need not then seek for our peace in externals,
nor fancy that another person's patience can
be of any use to the faults of our impatience.
For just as "the kingdom of God is within
you," so "a man's foes are they of his own
household."^ For no one is more my enemy
than my own heart which is truly the one of
my household closest to me. And therefore
if we are careful, we cannot possibly be in-
jured by intestine enemies. For where those
of our own household are not opposed to us,
there also the kingdom of God is secured in
peace of heart. For if you diligently investi-
gate the matter, I cannot be injured by any
man however spiteful, if I do not fight against
myself with warlike heart. But if I am in-
jured, the fault is not owing to the other's
attack, but to my own impatience. For as
strong and solid food is good for a man in
good health, so it i^ bad for a sick one. But
it cannot hurt the man who takes it, unless
the weakness of its recipient gives it its power
to hurt. If then any similar temptation ever
arises among brethren, we need never be
shaken out of the even tenor of our ways and
give an opening to the blasphemous snarls of
men living in the world, nor wonder that some
bad and detestable men have secretly found
their way into the number of the saints,
because so long as we are trodden down and
trampled in the threshing floor of this world,
the chaff which is destined for eternal fire is
quite sure to be mingled with the choicest of
the wheat. Finally if we bear in mind that
Satan was chosen among the angels, and
Judas among the apostles, and Nicholas the

1 S. Luke xvii. 21.

* S. Matt. X. 36.

488

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

author of a detestable heresy among the
deacons, it will be no wonder that the basest
of men are found among the ranks of the
saints. For although some maintain that this
Nicholas was not the same man who was
chosen for the work of the ministry by the
Apostles,^ nevertheless they cannot deny that
he was of the number of the disciples, all of
whom were clearly of such a character and so
perfect as those few whom we can now with
difficulty discover in the coenobia. Let us
then bring forward not the fall of the above-
mentioned brother, who fell in the desert
with so grievous a collapse, nor that horrible
stain which he afterwards wiped out by the co-
pious tears of his penitence, but the example
of the blessed Paphnutius; and let us not be
destroyed by the ruin of the former, whose
ingrained sin of envy was increased and made
worse by his affected piety, but let us imitate
with all our might the humility of the latter,
which in his case was no sudden production
of the quiet of the desert, but had been gained
among men, and was consummated and per-
fected by solitude. However you should
know that the evil of envy is harder to be
cured than other faults, for I should almost
say that a man whom it has once tainted with
the mischief of its poison is without a remedy.
For it is the plague of which it is figuratively
said "by the prophet: "Behold I will send
among you serpents, basilisks, against which
there isMio charm: and they shall bite you."^
Rightly then are the stings of envy compared
by the prophet to the deadly poison of basi-
lisks, as by it the first author of all poisons
and their chief perished and died. For he
slew himself before him of whom he was en-
vious, and destroyed himself before that he
poured forth the poison of death against man :
for " by the envy of the devil death entered
into the world: they therefore who are on his
side follow him. "^ For just as he who was ^
the first to be corrupted by the plague of that ;
evil, admitted no remedy of penitence, nor
any healing plaster, so those also who have
given themselves up to be smitten by the same !
pricks, exclude all the aid of the sacred '
charmer, because as they are tormented not
by the faults but by the prosperity of those
of whom they are jealous, they are ashamed
to display the real truth and look out for some
external unnecessary and trifling causes of

1 As Cassian here implies, considerable doubt exists whether the
Nicholas from whom the sect of the Nicolaitans (Rev. ii. 1 5) derive tlieir
name was tlie same person as Nicholas the last of tlie seven "dea-
cons " mentioned in Acts vi. 5. Accordin;; to Iren^ns (Har. I.
xxvi.) the Nicolaitans themselves claimed him as their founder, and
tile claim is allowed by Hippolytus (I'hilos. vii, § 36), Epiphanius
(Hsr. I. ii. §25), and other writers of tlie fourth centur)'. Clement
of Alexandria however disputes the claim (Strom, HI. iv. and cf.
Euseb. H. E. III. xxix.), as does Theodnret (H.-cr. Tab. iii. i).
- Jer. viii. 17. ^ Wisd. ii. 24, 25.

offence : and of these, because they are alto-
gether false, vain is the hope of cure, while
the deadly poison which they will not pro-
duce is lurking in their veins. Of which the
wisest of men has fitly said: ''If a serpent
bite witiiout hissing, there is no supply for
the charmer."'* For those are silent bites, to
which alone the medicine of the wise is no
succour. For that evil is so far incurable
that it is made worse by attentions, it is in-
creased by services, is irritated by presents,
because as the same Solomon says : '" envy
endures nothing." ^ For just in proportion as
another has made progress in humble submis-
sion or in the virtue of patience or in the
merit of munificence, so is a man excited by
worse pricks of envy, because he desires no-
thing less than the ruin or death of the man
whom he envies. Lastly no submission on
the part of their harmless brother could soften
the envy of the eleven patriarchs, so that
Scripture relates of them: "But his brothers
envied him because his father loved him, and
they could not speak peaceably unto him " ^
until their jealousy, which would not listen to
any entreaties on the part of their obedient
and submissive brother, desired his death,
and would scarcely be satisfied with the sin
of selling a brother. It is plain then that
envy is worse than all faults, and harder to
get rid of, as it is inflamed by those remedies
by which the others are destroyed. For, for
example, a man who is grieved by a loss that
has been caused to him, is healed by a liberal
compensation : one who is sore owing to a ,
wrong done to him, is appeased by humble
satisfaction being made. What can you do
with one who is the more offended by the
very fact that he sees you humbler and kinder,
who is not aroused to anger by any greed
Avhich can be appeased by a bribe; or by any
injurious attack or love of vengeance, which
is overcome by obsequious services; but is
only irritated by another's success and happi-
ness? But who is there who in order to
satisfy one who envies him, would wish to
fall from his good fortune, or to lose his
prosperity or to be involved in some calamity?
Wherefore we must constantly implore the
divine aid, to which nothing is impossible, in
order that the serpent may not by a single
bite of this evil destroy whatever .is flourish-
ing in us, and animated as it were by the life
and quickening power of the Holy Ghost.
For the other poisons of serpents, i.e., carnal
sins and faults, in which human frailty is
easily entangled and from which it is as easily
purified, show some traces of their wounds

* Eccl. X. 2.

o Prov. xxvii. 4.

6 Gen. xxxvii. 4.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN.

489

in the flesh, whereby although the earthly
body is most dangerously inllamed, yet if any
charmer well skilled in divine incantations
applies a cure and antidote or the remedy of
words of salvation, the poisonous evil does
not reach to the everlasting death of the soul.
But the poison of envy as if emitted by the
basilisk, destroys the very life of religion and
faith, even before the wound is perceived in
the body. For he does not raise himself up
against men, but, in his blasphemy, against
God, who carps at nothing in his brother
except his felicity, and so blames no fault
of man, but simply the judgment of God.
This then is that "root of bitterness springing
up " ^ which raises itself to heaven and tends
to 'reproaching the very Author Who bestows
good things on man. Nor shall anyone be
disturbed because God threatens to send " ser-
pents, basilisks,"^ to bite those by whose
crimes He is offended. For although it is

certain that God cannot be the author of envy,
yet it is fair and worthy of the divine judg-
ment that, while good gifts are bestowed on
the humble and refused to the proud and
reprobate, those who, as the Apostle says,
deserve to be given over ''to a reprobate
mind," ^ should be smitten and consumed by
envy sent as it were by Him, according to
this passage: "They have provoked me to
jealousy by them that are no gods: and I will
provoke them to jealousy by them that are

no nation.

V G

By this discourse the blessed Piamun ex-
cited still more keenly our desire in which we
had begun to be promoted from the infant
school of the coenobium to the second standard
of the anchorites' life. For it was under his
instruction that we made our first start in soli-
tary living, the knowledge of which we after-
wards followed up more thoroughly in Scete.

XIX.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN.

ON THE AIM OF THE CCENOBITE AND HERMIT.

CHAPTER I.

Of the ccenobium of Abbot Paul and the patience of a certain

brother.

After only a few days we made our way
once more with great alacrity, drawn by the
desire for further instruction, to the coenobium
of Abbot Paul, where though a greater number
than two hundred of the brethren dwell there,
yet, in honour of the festival which was then
being held, an enormous collection of monks
from other coenobia had come there as well:
for the anniversary of the death ^ of a former
Abbot who had presided over the same monas-
tery was being solemnly kept. And we have
mentioned this assembly for this reason that
we may briefly treat of the patience of a certain
brother, which was remarkable for immovable
gentleness on his part in the presence of all this
congregation. For though the object of this
work has regard to another person; viz., that
we may produce the utterances of Abbot John *

1 Heb. xii. 15. ^ Jer. viii. 17.

^ Depositio. A word frequently used for the day of the death (or
burial) in Calendars and Martyrologies.

* On this Abbot John com|)are the note on the Institutes V. xxviii.

who left the desert and submitted himself to
that coenobium with the utmost goodness and
humility, yet we think it not at all absurd to
relate without any unnecessary verbiage, what
we think is most instructive to those who are
eager for goodness. And so when the whole
body of the monks was seated in separate
parties of twelve, in the large open court,
when one of the brethren had been rather slow
in fetching and bringing in a dish, the afore-
said Abbot Paul, who was busily hurrying
about among the troops of brethren who were
serving, saw it and struck him such a blow
before them all on his open palm that the
sound of the hand which was struck actually
reached the ears of those whose backs were
turned nd who were sitting some way off.
But the youth of remarkable patience received
it with such calmness of mind that not only
did he let no word fall from his mouth or give
the slightest sign of murmuring by the silent
movements of his lips, but actually did not
change colour in the slightest degree or (lose)
the modest and peaceful look about his mouth.

^ Rom. i. 28.

" Deut. xxxii. 21.

490

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

And this fact struck with astonishment not
merely us, who had lately come from a monas-
tery of Syria and had not learnt the blessing
of this patience by such clear examples, but all
those as well who were not without experience
of such earnestness, so that by it a great lesson
was taught even to those who were well ad-
vanced, because even if this paternal correc-
tion had not disturbed his patience, neither
did the presence of so great a number bring
the slightest sign of colour to his cheeks.

CHAPTER II.

Of Abbot John's humility and our question.

In this coenobium then we found a very old
man named John, whose words and humility
we think ought certainly not to be passed over
in silence as in them he excelled all the saints,
as we know that he was especially vigorous in
this perfection, which though it is the mother
of all virtues and the surest foundation of
the whole spiritual superstructure, yet is alto-
gether a stranger to our system. Wherefore
it is no wonder that we cannot attain to the
height of those men, as we cannot stand the
training of the coenobium I will not say up
to old age, but are scarcely content to endure
the yoke of subjection for a couple of years,
and at once escape to enjoy a dangerous liberty,
while even for that short time we seem to be
subject to the rule of the Elder not according
to any strict rule, but as our free will directs.
When then we had seen this old man in Abbot
Paul's cctnobium, we were struck, first by his
age and the grace with which the man was
endowed, and with looks fixed on the ground
began to entreat him to vouchsafe to explain
to us why he had forsaken the freedom of the
desert and that exalted profession, in which
his fame and celebrity had raised him above
others who had adopted the same life, and
why he had chosen to enter under the yoke
of the coenobium. He said that as he was
unequal to the system of the anchorites and
unworthy of the heights of such perfection, he
had gone back to the infant school, that he
might learn to carry out the lessons taught
there, according as the life demanded. And
when our entreaties were not satisfied and
we refused to take this humble answer, at last
he began as follows.

CHAPTER III.

Abbot John's answer why he had left the desert.

The system of the anchorites, which you are
surprised at my leaving, I not only neither re-

ject nor refuse, but rather embrace and regard
with tlie utmost veneration : in which system,
and after I had passed thirty years living in
a coenobium, I rejoice that I have also spent
twenty more, so that I can never be accused of
sloth among those who tried it in a half-hearted
way. But because its purity, of which I had
had some slight experience, was sometimes
soiled by the presence of anxiety about carnal
matters, it seemed better to return to the
coenobium to secure a readier attainment of
an easier aim undertaken, and less danger
from venturing on the higher life of the hum-
ble solitary.^ For it is better to seem earnest
with smaller promises than careless in larger
ones. And therefore if possibly I bring for-
ward anything somewhat arrogantly and indeed
somewhat too freely, I beg that you will not
think it due to the sin of boasting but rather to
my desire for your edification; and that, as I
think that, when you ask so earnestly, nothing
of the truth should be kept back from you, you
will set it down to love rather than to boast-
ing. For I think that some instruction may
be given to you if I lay aside my humility,
and simply lay bare the whole truth about my
aim. For I trust that I shall not incur any
reproach of vainglory from you because of the
freedom of my words, nor any charge of false-
hood from my conscience because of any sup-
pression of the truth.

CHAPTER IV.

Of the excellence which the aforesaid old man showed in the

system of the anchorites.

If then anyone else delights in the recesses
of the desert and would forget all human in-
tercourse and say with Jeremiah: "I have
not desired the day of man: Thou knowest,""
I confess that by the blessing of God's
grace, I also secured or at any rate tried to
secure this. And so by the kind gift of the
Lord I remember that I was often caught up
into such an ecstasy as to forget that I was
clothed with the burden of a weak body, and
my soul on a sudden forgot all external
notions and entirely cut itself off from all
material objects, so that neither my eyes nor
ears performed their proper functions. And
my soul was so filled with divine meditations

' The true reading, as given by Petschenig, appears to be the
following: /•'/ 7nhins de fimsnviptcE sub/itiiioris />>-qfessio>t!s huiiii/i-
tate f>ericidHtii. It is probably on account of its difficulty that
hiimilitaie has been altered into difficultate , as in the text of (Jazet
(the two hiitnilitate difficultate are found together in some IMSS.)
liut the fact appears to be that Immilitns is here used for the life
of an anchorite, as in Conference XXIV. ix., wliere Abbot Abraham
uses the expression districtionem laijus huntiliiatis. The word is
also used in a somewhat similar sense in Conf. I. xx. and XI. ii.

^ Jer. xvii. 16.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN.

491

and spiritual contemplations that often in
the evening I did not know whether 1 had
taken any food and on the next day was very
doubtful whether I had broken my fast yester-
day. For which reason, a supply of food for
seven days, i.e., seven sets of biscuits were
set apart in a sort of hand-basket,^ and laid
by on Saturday, that there might be no doubt
when supper had been omitted; and by this
plan another mistake also from forgetfulness
was obviated, for when the number of cakes
was finished it showed that the course of the
week was over, and that the services of the
same day had come round, and that the fes-
tival and holy day and services of the con-
gregation could not escape the notice of the
solitary. But even if that ecstasy of mind of
which we have spoken should happen to inter-
fere with this arrangement, yet still the method
of the days' work would show the number of
the days and check the mistake. And to pass
over in silence the other advantages of the
desert (for it is not our business to treat of
their number and quantity, but rather of the
aim of solitude and the ccenobium) I will the
rather briefly explain the reasons why I pre-
ferred to leave it, which you also wanted to
know, and will in a concise discourse glance
at all those fruits of solitude which I men-
tioned, and show to what greater advantages
on the other side they ought to be held
inferior.

CHAPTER V.

Of the advantages of the desert.

So long then as owing to the fewness of
those who were then living in the desert, a
greater freedom was afforded to us in a wider
expanse of the wilderness, so long as in the
seclusion of larger retreats we were caught up
to those celestial ecstasies, and were not over-
whelmed by a great quantity of brethren to
visit us, and thus owing to the necessity
of showing hospitality overburdened in our
thoughts by the distractions of great cares, I
frequented with insatiable desire and all my
heart the peaceful retreats of the desert and
that life which can only be compared to the
bliss of the angels. But when, as I said, a
larger number of the brethren began to seek
a dwelling in that desert, and by cramping
the freedom of the vast wilderness, not only
caused that fire of divine contemplation to
grow cold, but also entangled the mind in
many ways in the chains of carnal matters, I
determined to carry out my purpose in this

* In prockirio id est admanue'ui sporta.

system rather than to grow cold in that sub-
lime mode of life, by providing for carnal
wants; so that, if that liberty and those spi-
ritual ecstasies are denied me, yet as all care
for the morrow is avoided, I may console my-
self by fulfilling the precept of the gospel,
and what I lose in sublimity of contemplation,
may be made up to me by submission and
obedience. For it is a wretched thing for a
man to profess to learn any art or pursuit,
and never to arrive at perfection in it.

CHAPTER VI.

Of the conveniences of tlve coenobium.

Wherefore I will briefly explain what ad-
vantages I now enjoy in this manner of life.
You must consider my words and judge
whether those advantages of the desert out-
weigh these comforts, and by this you will
also be able to prove w'hether I chose to be
cramped within the narrow limits of the coeno-
bium from dislike or from desire of that purity
of the solitary life. In this life then there is
no providing for the day's work, no distrac-
tions of buying and selling, no unavoidable
care for the year's food, no anxiety about
bodily things, by which one has to get ready
what is necessary not only for one's own wants
but also for those of any number of visitors,
finally no conceit from the praise of men,
which is worse than all these things and some-
times in the sight of God does away with the
good of even great efforts in the desert. But,
to pass over those waves of spiritual pride and
the deadly peril of vainglory in the life of
the anchorite, let us return to this general bur-
den which affects everybody, i.e., the ordinary
anxiety in providing food, w'hich has so far
exceeded I say not the measure of that ancient
strictness which altogether did without oil, but
is beginning not to be content even with the
relaxation of our own time according to which
the requirements of all the supply of food for
a year were satisfied by the preparation of a
single pint of oil and a modius of lentils pre-
pared for the use of visitors ; but now the need-
\ ful supply of food is scarcely met by two or
I three times that amount. And to such an extent
j has the force of this dangerous relaxation
grown among some that, when they mix vine-
gar and sauce, they do not add that single drop
of oil, which our predecessors who followed
the rules of the desert with greater powers of
abstinence, were accustomed to pour in simply
for the sake of avoiding vainglory,' but they

* Cf. Conference VIII.

492

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

break an Eg^'ptian cheese for luxury and pour
over it more oil tlian is required, and so take,
under a single pleasant relish, two sorts of
food which differ in their special flavour, each
of which ought singly to be a pleasant refresh-
ment at different times for a monk. To such
a pitch however has this i-AtzV; y.Ti]at;, i.e., ac-
quisition of material things grown, that actually
under pretence of hospitality and welcoming
guests anchorites have begun to keep a blanket
in their cells — a thing which I cannot men-
tion without shame -^ to omit those things by
which the mind that is awed by and intent
on spiritual meditation is more especially
hampered; viz., the concourse of brethren, the
duties of receiving the coming and speeding
the parting guest, visits to each other and the
endless worry of various confabulations and
occupations, the expectation of which owing
to the continuous character of these customary
interruptions keeps the mind on the stretch
even during the time when these bothers
seem to cease. And so the result is that the
freedom of the anchorite's life is so hindered
by these ties that it can never rise to that in-
effable keenness of heart, and thus loses the
fruits of its hermit life. And if this is now
denied to me while I am living in the congre-
gation and among others, at least there is no
lack of peace of mind and tranquillity of heart
that is freed from all business. And unless
this is ready at hand for those also who live
in the desert, they will indeed have to undergo
the labours of the anchorite's life, but will lose
its fruits w^hich can only be gained in peaceful
stability of mind. Finally even if there is any
diminution of my purity of heart while I am
living in the coenobium, I shall be satisfied by
keeping in exchange that one precept of the
Gospel, which certainly cannot be less es-
teemed than all those fruits of the desert; I
mean that I should take no thought for the
morrow, and submitting myself completely to
the Abbot seem in some degree to emulate
Him of whom it is said: "He humbled Him-
self, and became obedient unto death;" and
so be able humbly to make use of His words:
"For I came not to do mine own will, but the
will of the Father which sent me." ^

CHAPTER VII.

A question on the fruits of Ihc coenobiuni and the desert.

Germanus: Since it is evident that you
have not, like so many, just touched the mere
outskirts of each mode of life, but have

1 Phil. ii. 8; S. John vi. 3S.

ascended to the very heights, we should like
to know what is the end of the coenobite's life
and what the end of the hermit's. For no one
can doubt that no man can discourse with
greater fulness or fidelity on these subjects
than one who, taught by long use and experi-
ence, has followed them both, and so can by
veracious teaching show us their value and
aim.

CHAPTER VIII.

The answer to the question proposed.

John : I should absolutely maintain that one
and the same man could not attain perfection
in both lives unless I was hindered by the
example of some few. And since it is no
small matter to find a man who is perfect in
either of them, it is clear how much harder
and I had almost said impossible it is for a
man to be thoroughly efficient in both. And
if this has ever happened, it cannot come
under any general rule. For a general rule
must be based not on exceptional instances,
i.e., on the experience of a very few, but on
what is within the power of the many or rather
of all. But what is attained to here and
there by but one or two, and is beyond the
capacity of ordinary goodness, must be kept
out of general rules as something permitted
outside the condition and nature of human
weakness, and should be brought forward as
a miracle rather than as an example. \\'here-
fore I will, as my slender ability allows, briefly
intimate what vou want to know. The aim
indeed of the coenobite is to mortify and
crucify all his desires and, according to that
salutary command of evangelic perfection, to
take no thought for the morrow. And it is
perfectly clear that this perfection cannot be
attained by any except a coenobite, such a man
as the prophet Isaiah describes and blesses
and praises as follows: "If thou turn away
thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy
own will in my holy day, and glorify Him,
while thou dost not thine own ways, and thine
own will is not found to speak a word: then
shalt thou be delighted in the Lord, and I will
lift thee up above the high places of the earth,
and will feed thee with the inheritance of
Jacob thy father. For the mouth of the Lord
hath spoken it."" But the perfection for a
hermit is to have his mind freed from all
earthlv thinsfs. and to unite it, as far as
human frailty allows, with Christ: and such a
man the prophet Jeremiah describes when he
says: "Blessed is the man who haUi borne the

- Is. Iviii. 13, 14.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN.

493

yoke from his youth. He shall sit solitary
and hold his peace, because he hath taken it
upon himself;" the Psalmist also: "1 am
become like a pelican in the desert. 1
watched and became as a sparrow alone upon
the housetop." ^ To this aim then, which we
have described as that of either life, unless
each of them attains, in vain does the one
adopt the system of the ccenobium, and the
other of the hermitage : for neither of them
will get the good of his method of life.

CHAPTER IX.

Of true and complete perfection.

But this is ,"??"<?;, i.e., no thorough and
altogether complete perfection, but only a
partial one. Perfection then is very rare
and granted by God's gift to but a very few.
For he is truly and not partially perfect
who with equal imperturbability can put up
with the squalor of the wilderness in the
desert, as Avell as the infirmities of the bre-
thren in the ccenobium. And so it is hard to
find one who is perfect in both lives, be-
cause the anchorite cannot thoroughly acquire
uy.n^uofjiV)], i.e., a disregard for and stripping
oneself of material things, nor the coenobite
purity in contemplation, although we know
that Abbot Moses and Paphnutius and the
two Macarii ^ were masters of both in perfec-
tion. And so they were perfect in either
life, and while they withdrew further than
all the dwellers in the desert and delighted
themselves unceasingly in the retirement of
the wilderness, and as far as in them lay
never sought intercourse with other men, yet
they put up with the presence and the infirm-
ities of those who came to them so that when
a large number of the brethren came to them
for the sake of seeing them and profiting
by it, they endured this almost continuous
trouble of receiving them with imperturb-
able patience, and men fancied that all the
days of their life they had neither learnt nor
practised anything but how to show common
civility to those who came, so that it was a
puzzle to all to say in which life their zeal
was mainly shown, i.e., whether their great-
ness adapted itself more remarkably to the
purity of the hermitage or to the common life.

CHAPTER X.

Of those who while still imperfect retire into the desert.

But some are sometimes so tantalized by
the silence of the desert lasting all through

^ Lam. iii. 27, 2S : Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8.

2 Moses, Paphnutius, and the two Macarii have all been men-

the day that they altogether dread intercourse
I with men, and, when they have even for a
I little while broken through their habit of
I retirement owing to the accident of a visit
from some of the brethren, boil over with
i marked vexation of mind, and show clear
j signs of annoyance. And this especially
happens in the case of those who have betaken
themselves to the solitary life without a well-
matured purpose and without being thoroughly
trained in the coenobium, as these men are
always imperfect and easily upset, and in-
cline to one side or the other, as the gales of
trouble may drive them. For as they boil over
impatiently at intercourse or conversation with
the brethren, so while they are living in solitude
they cannot stand the vastness of that silence
which they themselves have courted, inasmuch
as they themselves do not even know the
reason why solitude ought to be wanted and
sought for, but imagine that the value and the
main part of this life consist in this; viz., in
avoiding intercourse with the brethren and
simply shunning and loathing the sight of a
man.

CHAPTER XL

A question how to cure those who have hastily left the
congregation of the coenobmm.

Germanus : By what treatment can any help
be given to us or to others who are thus weak
and only up to this; who had received but
little instruction in the system of the cano-
bium when we began to aspire to dwell in
solitude before we had got rid of our faults;
or by what means shall we be able to acquire
the constancy of an imperturbable mind, and
immovable steadfastness of patience ; we who
all too soon gave up the common life in
the coenobium, and forsook the schools and
training ground for these exercises, in which
our principles ought first to have been tho-
roughly schooled and perfected? How then
can we now while we are living alone gain per-
fection in long-suffering and patience; or how
can conscience, that searcher out of inward
motives, discover whether these virtues exist
in us or are wanting, so that because we are
severed from intercourse with men, and not
irritated by any of their provocations, we may
not be deceived by false notions, and fancy
that we have gained that imperturbable peace
of mind?

tioned frequently before. On Moses (to whom the first two Con-
ferences are assigned) see the note on the Institutes X. x.w ; on
Paphnutius see on Conference III. i. ; and on the two Macarii, the
Institutes V. xli.

494

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER XII.

The answer telling how a solitary can discover his faults.

John : To those who are really seeking relief,
healing remedies from the true Physician of
souls will certainly not be wanting; and to
those above all will they be given who do not
disregard their ill-condition (either because
they despair of it, or because they do not care
about it), nor hide the danger they are in from
their wound, nor in their wanton heart reject
the remedy of penitence, but with an humble
and yet careful heart flee to the heavenly
Physician for the diseases they have con-
tracted from ignorance or error or necessity.
And so we ought to know that if we retire to
solitude or secret places, without our faults
being first cured, their operation is but re-
pressed, while the power of feeling them is
not extinguished. For the root of all sins not
having been eradicated is still lying hid in us,
or rather creeping up, and that it is still alive
we can tell by these signs. For instance, if,
when we are living in solitude we receive the
approach of some brethren, or any very slight
tarrying on their part, with any anxiety or
fretfulness of mind, we should recognize that
an incentive to the most hasty impatience is
still existing in us. But if when we are ho-
ping for the coming of a brother, and from
some cause he perhaps delays a little, our
mental indignation either silently blames his
slowness, and annoyance at this inconvenient
waiting disturbs our mind, the examination
of our conscience will show that the sin of
anger and vexation is plainly still remaining
in us. Again, if when a brother asks for our
book to read, or for some other article to use,
his request annoys us, or a refusal on our part
disgusts him, there can be no doubt that we
are still entangled in the meshes of avarice
or covetousness. But if a sudden thought or
a passage of Holy Scripture brings up the
recollection of a woman and we feel that we
are at all attracted towards her, we should
know that the fire of fornication is not yet
extinguished in us. But if on a comparison
of our own strictness with the laxity of another
even the slightest conceit tries our mind, it is
clear that we are affected with the dreadful
plague of pride. When then we detect these
signs of faults in our heart, we should clearly
recognize that it is only the opportunity and
not the passion of sin of which we are deprived.
And certainly these passions, if at any time
we were to mingle in the ordinary life of men,
would at once start up from their lurking
places in our thoughts and prove that they
did not then for the first time come into exist-

ence when they broke out, but that they were
then at last made public, because they had
been long lying hid. And so even a solitary
can detect by sure signs that the roots of each
fault are still implanted in him, if he tries
not to show his purity to men, but to main-
tain it inviolate in His sight, from whom no
secrets of the heart can be hid.

CHAPTER XIII.

A question how a man can be cured who has entered on
solitude witliout having his faults eradicated.

Germanus: We very clearly and plainly
see the proofs by which the signs of infirmi-
ties are inferred, and the method of discern-
ing diseases, i.e., how the faults which are
concealed in us can be detected : for our every
day experience and the daily motions of our
thoughts show us all these as they have been
stated. It remains then that as the proofs
and causes of our maladies have been exposed
to us in a most clear way so their remedies
and cures may also be shown. For no one
can doubt that one who has first discovered
the grounds and beginnings of ailments, with
the approving witness of the conscience of
those affected, can best discourse on their
remedies. And so though the teaching of
your holiness has laid bare the secrets of our
wounds whereby we venture to have some
hope of a remedy, because so clear a dia-
gnosis of the disease gives promise of the hope
of a cure, yet because, as you say, the first
elements of salvation are acquired in the
coenobium, and men cannot be in a sound
condition in solitude, unless they have first
been healed bv the medicine of the coeno-
bium, we have fallen again into a dangerous
state of despair lest as we left the coenobium
in an imperfect condition we may not now
that we are in the desert succeed in becoming-
perfect.

CHAPTER XIV.

The answer on their remedies.

John : For those who are anxious for the
cure of their ailments a saving remedy is sure
not to be wanting, and therefore remedies
should be sought by the same means that the
signs of each fault are discovered. For as
we have said that the faults of men's ordinaiy
life are not wanting to solitaries, so we do
not deny that all zeal for virtue, and all the
means of healing are at the disposal of all
tliose who are cut off from men's ordinary
life. When then anyone discovers by those

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN.

495

signs which we described above, that he is
attacked by outbreaks of impatience or anger,
he should always practise himself in the oppo-
site and contrary things, and by setting before
himself all sorts of injuries and wrongs, as if
offered to him by somebody else, accustom his
mind to submit with perfect humility to every-
thing that wickedness can bring upon him;
and by often representing to himself all kinds
of rough and intolerable things, continually
consider with all sorrow of heart with what
gentleness he ought to meet them. And, by
thus looking at the sufferings of all the saints,
or indeed at those of the Lord Himself, he
will admit that the various reproaches as well
as punishments are less than he deserves, and
prepare himself to endure all kinds of griefs.
And when occasionally he has been recalled
by some invitation to the assembly of the
brethren — a thing which cannot but happen
every now and then even to the strictest in-
mates of the desert, — if he finds that his mind
is silently disturbed even for trifles, he should
like some stern censor of his secret emotions
charge himself with all those various hard
wrongs, to the perfect endurance of which he
was training himself by his daily meditations,
and blaming and chiding himself as follows,
say: My good man, are you the fellow who
while training yourself in the praciising
ground of solitude, ventured most deter-
minedly to think that you would get the
better of all bad qualities, and who just now,
when you were representing to yourself not
only all sorts of bitter reproaches, but also
intolerable punishments, fancied that you
v/ere pretty strong and able to stand against
all storms? How is it that that unconquered
patience of yours is upset by the first trial
even of a light word? How is it that even a
gentle breeze has shaken that house of yours
which you fancied was built so strongly on the
solid rock? Where is that which you an-
nounced when during a time of peace you
were in your foolish confidence longing for
war? "I am ready, and am not troubled;"
and this which you used often to say with the
prophet : "' Prove me, O Lord, and try me :
search out my reins and my heart;" and:
'• prove me, O Lord, and know my heart :
question me and know my paths; and see if
there be any way of wickedness in me."^
How has a tiny ghost of an enemy frightened
your grand preparations for war? With such
reproaches and remorse a man should con-
demn himself and not allow the sudden temp-
tation which has upset him to go unpunished,
but by chastising his flesh with a severer

1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 60; xxv. (xxvi.) 2; cxxxviii. (cxxxix.) 23, 24.

penalty of fasting and vigils; and, by punish-
ing his sin of lightness of mind by continual
pains of self-restraint, he should while living
in solitude consume in this fire of practice
what he ought to have thoroughly driven out
in the life of the coenobium. This at any
rate we must firmly and resolutely hold to in
order to secure a lasting and unbroken pa-
tience; viz., that for us, to whom by the
Divine law not merely vengeance for, but
even the recollection of injuries is-forbidden,
it is not permissible to be roused to anger
because of some loss or annoyance. For
what greater injury can happen to the soul than
for it, owing to some sudden blindness from
rage, to lose the brightness of the true and
eternal light and to fail of the sight of Him
"Who is meek and lowly of heart? "^ What
I ask could be more dangerous or awkward
than for a man to lose his power of judging
of goodness, and his standard and rule of
true discernment, and for one in his sober
senses to do what even a drunken man, and a
fool would not be pardoned for doing? One
then who carefully considers these and other
injuries of the same kind, will readily endure
and disregard not only all kinds of losses, but
also wdiatever wrongs and punishments can
be inflicted by the cruellest of men, as he
will hold that there is nothing more dama-
ging than anger, nor more valuable than peace
of mind and unbroken purity of heart, for the
sake of which we should think nothing of the
advantages not merely of carnal matters but
also of those things which appear to be spi-
ritual, if they cannot be gained or done with-
out some disturbance of this tranquillity.

CHAPTER XV.

A question whether chastity ought to be ascertained just as
the other feelings.

Germanus : As the cure for other ailments,
viz., anger, vexation, and impatience, has
been shown to consist in opposing to them
their contraries, so also we should like to
learn what sort of treatment we ought to use
against the spirit of fornication : I mean,
whether the fire of lust can be quenched
by the representation, as in those other cases,
of greater inducements and things to excite
it: because not merely to increase the incen-
tives to lust within us, but even to touch them
with a passing look of the mind, we believe
to be utterly fatal to chastity.

2 S. Matt. xi. 29.

496

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER XVI.

The answer giving the proofs by which it can be recognized.

John : Your shrewd question has antici-
pated the subject, which even if you had said
nothing must have arisen from our discourse,
and therefore I do not doubt that it will be
effectually grasped by your minds, since in-
deed your sharp wits have outstripped our
instruction. For the puzzle of any question
is easily removed, when the inquiry antici-
pates the answer, and is the first to travel
along the road which it is to follow. And so
to the treatment of those faults of which we
have spoken above, intercourse with other men
is not merely no hindrance, but a considerable
help, for the more often that the outbursts of
their impatience are exposed, the more tho-
rough is the sorrow and compunction which
they bring on those who have failed, and the
speedier is the recovery of health which they
confer on those who struggle against them.
Wherefore even when we are living in solitude,
though the incentive to irritation and matter
for it cannot arise from men, yet we ought of
set purpose to meditate on incitements to it,
that as we are fighting against it with a con-
tinual struggle in our thoughts a speedier cure
for it may be found for us. But against the
spirit of fornication the system is different,
and the method an altered one. For as we
must deprive the body of opportunities of lust,
and contact with flesh, so we must deprive the
mind of the recollection of it. For it is suffi-
ciently dangerous for bosoms that are still
weak and infirm even to tolerate the slight-

est recollection of this passion, in such a way
that sometimes at the remembrance of holy
women, or in reading a story in Holy Scrip-
ture a stimulus of dangerous excitement is
I aroused. For which reason our Elders used
deliberately to omit passages of this kind when
j any of the juniors were present. However for
[ those who are perfect and established in the
feelings of chastity there can be no lack of
proofs by which they may examine themselves,
and establish their perfect uprightness of
heart by the uncorrupted judgment of their
I own conscience. There will then be for the
j man who is thoroughly established a similar
test even in regard to this passion, so that
one who is sure that he has altogether exter-
minated the roots of this evil may for the sake
of ascertaining his chastity, call up some
picture as with a lascivious mind. But it is
■ by no means proper for such a test to be at-
' tempted by those who are still weak (for to
them it will be dangerous rather than use-
ful), ut conjunctionem femineam et palpatio-
j nem quodammodo teneram atque mollissimam
I corde pertractent. Cum ergo perfecta quis vir-
tute fundatus ad illecebram blandissimorum
tactuum, quos cogitando confinxerit, nullum
mentis assensum, nullam commotionem carnis
in se deprehenderit exagitatam, he will have
a very sure proof of his purity, so that train-
ing himself to this steadfast purity he will not
only possess the blessing of chastity and free-
dom from defilement in his heart, but even if
he is obliged to touch the body of a woman,
he will be horrified at it.

With this Abbot John brought his Confer-
ence to an end, as he saw that it was just time
for the refreshment of the ninth hour.

XX.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS.

OJV THE END OF PENITENCE AND THE MARKS OF SATISFACTION

CHAPTER I.

Of the humility of Abbot I'inufius, and of his hiding-place.

Now that I am going to relate the precepts
of that excellent and remarkable man, Abbot
Pinufius, on the end of penitence, I fancy that
I can dispose of a very large part of my mate-
rial, if out of consideration lest I weary my

reader, I here pass over in silence the praise
of his humility, which I touched on in a brief
discourse in the fourth book of the Institutes,^
which was entitled "Of the rules to be ob-
served by renunciants, '' especially as many
who have no knowledge of that work, ma}-
happen to read this, and then all the authority

* Cf. Institutes IV. c. xxx., xxxi. Nothing further is known of
Pinufius than what we gather from these passages of Cassian.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS.

49;

of the utterances will be weakened if there is
no account of the virtues of the speaker. For
this man when he was presiding as Abbot
and Presbyter over a large cojnobium not far
from Panephysis, a city, as was there said, of
Egypt, and when all tlrat province had praised
him to the skies for his virtues and miracles,
so that he already seemed to himself to have
received the reward of his labours in the re-
muneration of the praise of men, as he was
afraid lest the emptiness of popular favour,
which he especially disliked, might interfere
with the fruits of an eternal reward, he secretly
tied from his monastery and made his way to
the furthest recesses of the monks of Tabennas, ^
where he chose not the solitude of the desert,
not that freedom from care of which the life
of one alone affords, which even those who
are imperfect and who cannot endure the effort
which obedience requires in the coenobium,
sometimes seek after with proud presumption,
but he chose to submit himself to a most
famous monastery. Where, however, that he
might not be betrayed by any signs of his
dress, he clothed himself in a secular garb,
and lay before the doors with tears, as is the
custom there, for many days, and clinging to
the knees of all after being daily repulsed by
those who to test his purpose said that now in
extreme old age he was seeking this holy life
not in sincerity, but driven by the lack of
food, at last he obtained admission, and there
he was told off to help a young brother who
had been given the charge of a garden, and
when he not only fulfilled with such marvel-
lous and holy humility everything which his
chief ordered him or which the care of the
work entrusted to him demanded, but also
performed in stealthy labour by night certain
necessary offices which were avoided by the
rest out of disgust for them, so that when
morning dawned, all the congregation was
delischted at such useful works but knew not
their author; and when he had passed nearly
three years there rejoicing in the labours,
which he had desired, but to which he was so
unfairly subjected, it happened that a certain
brother known to him came there from the
same parts of Egypt from which he himself
had come. And this man for a time hesitated
because the meanness of his clothes and of
his office prevented him from readily recog-
nizing him at once, but after looking very
closely at him, fell at his feet, and first as-
tonished all the brethren, and afterwards,
when he betrayed his name, which the fame of
his special sanctity had made known to them
also, he smote them with sorrow and com-

1 On Tabennae or Tabenna see the note on the Institutes IV. i.

punction because they had told off a man of
his virtues and a priest to such mean offices.
]5ut he, shedding copious tears, and charging
the serious accident of his betrayal to the
envy of the devil, was brought in honourable
custody by his brethren surrounding him to
the monastery; and after that he had stayed
there for a short time, he was once more
troubled by the respect shown to his dignity
and rank, and stealthily embarked on board
ship and sailed to the Palestinian province of
Syria, where he was received as a beginner
and a novice in the house of that monastery
in which we were living, and was charged by
the Abbot to stop in our cell. But not even
there could his virtues and merits long remain
secret. For he was discovered and betrayed
in the same way, and brought back to his
own monastery with the utmost honour and
respect.

CHAPTER II.

Of our coming to him.

When then after no long time a desire for
holy instruction had urged us also to visit
Egypt, we sought him out with the utmost
eagerness and devotion and were welcomed by
him with such kindness and courtesy that he
actually honoured us, as former sharers of the
same cell with him, with a lodging in his own
cell which he had built in the furthest corner of
his garden. And there when in the presence
of all the brethren at service he had delivered
to one of the brethren who was submitting to
the rule of the monastery sufficiently difficult
and elevated precepts, which as we said, I
summarized as briefly as I could in the fourth
book of the Institutes, the heights of a true
renunciation seemed to us so unattainable and
so marvellous that we did not think that such
humble folks as we could ever scale them.
And therefore, cast down in despair, and not
concealing in our looks the inner bitterness
of our thoughts, we came back to the blessed
old man with a tolerably anxious heart: and
when he at once asked the reason why we
were so sad. Abbot Germanus groaned deeply
and replied as follows.

CHAPTER III.

A question on the end of penitence and the marks of
satisfaction.

As your grand and splendid exposition of
a doctrine new to us has opened out to us a
more difficult road to the most glorious re-

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nunciation, and has removed the scales from
our eyes, and shown to us its summit raised
in the heavens, so are we proportionately cast
down with a greater weight of despair. Since,
when we measure its vastness against our
puny strength, and compare the excessively
humble character of our ignorance with the
boundless height of virtue shown to us, we
feel that we are so small that we not only
cannot attain to it, but that we are sure to
fall short in what we have. For as we are
weighed down by the burden of excessive
despair, we fall away somehow from the low-
est depths to still lower ones. Accordingly
there is one and only one support which can
provide a cure for our wounds; viz., for us
to learn something of the end of penitence
and especially of the marks of satisfaction,
that we may feel sure of the forgiveuess of
past sins, and so be spurred on to scale the
heights of the perfection described above.

CHAPTER JV.

The answer on the humility shown by our request.

PiNUFius: I am indeed delighted at the
very plentiful fruits of your humility, which
indeed I saw with no indifferent concern,
when I was formerly received in the habita-
tion of that cell of yours, and I am very glad
that you welcome with such respect the charge
given by us, the least of all Christians, and the
words that I have taken the liberty of saying
so that if I am not mistaken you carry them
out as soon as ever they are spoken by us;
and though, as I remember, the importance
of the words scarcely deserves the efforts you
bestow on them, yet you so conceal the merits
of your virtue, as if no breath ever reached
you of those things which you are daily prac-
tising. But because this fact is worthy of
the highest praise; viz., that you declare that
those institutes of the saints are still unknown
to you as if you were still beginners we will,
as briefly as possible, summarize what you
so eagerly ask of us. For we must even be-
yond our powers and ability, obey the com-
mands of such old friends as you. And so
on the value and appeasing power of peni-
tence many have published a great deal, not
only in words but also in writing, showing
how useful it is, how strong, and full of grace,
■ so that when God is offended by our past sins,
and on the point of inflicting a most just
punishment for such offences, it somehow, if
it is not wrong to say so, stops Him, and, if
I may so say, stays the right hand of the
Avenger even against His will. But I have

no doubt that all this is well known to you,
either from your natural wisdom, or from your
unwearied study of Holy Scripture, so that
from this the first shoots, so to speak, of your
conversion sprang up. Finally, you are an-
xious not about the character of penitence but
about its end, and the marks of satisfaction,
and so by a very shrewd question ask what
has been left out by others.

CHAPTER V.

Of the method of penitence and the proof of pardon.

Wherefore in order to satisfy as briefly
and shortly as possible, your desire and ques-
tion, the full and perfect description of peni-
tence is, never again to yield to those sins for
which we do penance, or for which our con-
science is pricked. But the proof of satis-
faction and pardon is for us to have expelled
the love of them from our hearts. For each
one may be sure that he is not yet free from
his former sins as long as any image of those
sins which he has committed or of others like
them dances before his eyes, and I will not say
a delight in — but the recollection of — them
haunts his inmost soul while he is devoting
himself to satisfaction for them and to tears.
And so one who is on the watch to make
satisfaction may then feel sure that he is free
from his sins and that he has obtained pardon
for past faults, when he never feels that his
heart is stirred by the allurements and imagi-
nations of these same sins. Wherefore the
truest test of penitence and witness of pardon
is found in our own conscience, which even
before the day of judgment and of knowledge,
while we are still in the flesh, discloses our
acquittal from guilt, and reveals the end of
satisfaction and the grace of forgiveness.
And that what has been said may be more
significantly expressed, then only should we
believe that the stains of past sins are forgiven
us, when the desires for present delights as
well as the passions have been expelled from
our heart.

CHAPTER VI.

A question whether our sins ought to be remembered out of
contrition of heart.

Germanus: And whence can there be
aroused in us this holy and salutary contri-
tion from humiliation, which is described as
follows in the person of the penitent: "I
have acknowledged my sin, and mine unright-
eousness have I not hid. I said: I will

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499

acknowledge against myself mine unrighteous-
ness to the Lord," so that \vc may be able
effectually to say also what follows: "And
Thou forgavest the iniquity of my heart; "^
or how, when we kneel in prayer shall we be
able to stir ourselves up to tears of confession,
by which we may be able to obtain pardon
for our offences, according to these words:
'* Every night will I wash my bed : I will water
my couch with tears ; " " if we expel from our
hearts all recollection of our faults, though
on the contrary we are bidden carefully to
preserve the remembrance of them, as the
Lord says: "And thine iniquities I will not
remember: but do thou recollect them?"^
Wherefore not only when I am at work, but
also when I am at prayer I try of set purpose
to recall to my mind the recollection of my
sins, that I may be more effectually inclined
to true humility and contrition of heart, and
venture to say with the prophet: '"Look upon
my humility and my labour: and forgive me
all my sins." *

CHAPTER VIL

The answer showing liow far we ought to preserve the
recollection of previous actions.

PiNUFius: Your question, as has been al-
ready said above, was not raised with regard
to the character of penitence, but with regard
to its end, and the marks of satisfaction : to
which, as I think, a fair and pertinent reply
has bean given. But what you have said as
to the remembrance of sins is sufficiently
useful and needful to men who are still
doing penance, that they may with constant
smiting of the breast say: " For I acknowledge
my wickedness: and my sin is ever before
me;" and this too: "And I will think for
my sin."^ While then we do penance, and
are still grieved by the recollection of faulty
actions, the shower of tears which is caused
by the confession of our faults is sure to
quench the fire of our conscience. But when,
while a man is still in this state of humility
of heart and contrition of spirit and continu-
ing to labour and to weep, the remembrance
of these things fades away, and the thorns
of conscience are by God's grace extracted
from his inmost heart, then it is clear that he
has attained to the end of satisfaction and the
reward of pardon, and that he is purged from
the stain of the sins he has committed. To
which state of forgetfulness we can only attain
by the obliteration of our former sins and

1 Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5, 6.

* Ps. vi. 7.

* Is. xliii. 25, 26.

■* Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 18.

6 Ps. 1. (11.) 5; xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 19.

likings, and by perfect and complete purity
of heart. And this most certainly will not
be attained by any of those who from sloth
or carelessness have failed to purge out their
faults, but only by one who by constantly
continuing to groan and sigh sorrowfully has
removed every spot of his former stains, and
by the goodness of his heart and his labour
has proclaimed to the Lord: " I have acknow-
ledged my sin, and mine unrighteousness have
I not hid;" and: "My tears have been my
meat day and night;" so that in the end it
may be vouchsafed to him to hear these words :
" Let thy voice cease from weeping, and thine
eyes from tears : for there is a reward for thy
labour, saith the Lord;"" and these words
also may be uttered of him by the voice of the
Lord : " I have blotted out as a cloud thine
iniquities, and as a mist thy sins: " and again :
" I even I am He that blotteth out thine in-
iquities for mine own sake, and thine offences
I will no longer remember; " '' and so, when he
is freed from the "cords of his sins," by
which "everyone is bound," ^ he will with all
thanksgiving sing to the Lord : " Thou hast
broken my chains : I will offer to thee the
sacrifice of praise. "°

CHAPTER VHL

Of the various fruits of penitence.

For after that grace of baptism which is
common to all, and that most precious gift of
martyrdom which is gained by being washed
in blood, there are many fruits of penitence
by which we can succeed in expiating our sins.
For eternal salvation is not only promised to
the bare fact of penitence, of which the blessed
Apostle Peter says: "Repent and be con-
verted that your sins maybe forgiven:" and
John the Baptist and the Lord Himself:
"Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand : " ^° but also by the affection of love is
the weight of our sins overwhelmed : for
"charity covers a multitude of sins.'"-'^ In
the same way also by the fruits of almsgiving
a remedy is provided for our wounds, because
" As water extinguishes fire, so does almsgiv-
ing extinguish sin." ^- So also by the shed-
ding of tears is gained the washing away of
offences, for "Every night I will v.-ash my
bed: I will water my couch with tears."
Finally to show that they are not . shed in
vain, he adds: "Depart from me all ye that

" Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5 ; xli. ''xlii.) 4: Jer. xxxi. 16.

' Is. xliv. 22 ; xliii. 25. '" Acts iii. 19; S. Matt. iii. 2.

8 Prov. V. 22. " I Pet. iv. 8.

8 Ps. cxv. 16, 17. '- Ecclus. iii. 33.

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work iniquity, for the Lord hath heard the
voice of my weeping. '' ■* Moreover by means
of confession of sins, their absolution is
granted: for "I said: I will confess against
myself my sin to the Lord : and Thou forgav-
est the iniquity of my heart;" and again:
"Declare thine iniquities first, that thou
mayest be justified." - By afilicting the heart
and body also is forgiveness of sins com-
mitted in like manner obtained, for he says:
"Look on my humility and my labour, and
forgive me all my sins; " and more especially
by amendment of life: "Take away," he says,
"the evil of your thoughts from mine eyes.
Cease to do evil, learn to do well. Seek
judgment, relieve the oppressed: judge the
orphan, defend the widow. And come, reason
with Me, saith the Lord: and though your
sins were as scarlet, yet shall they be as white
as snow, though they were red as crimson, they
shall be as white as wool." ^ Sometimes too
the pardon of our sins is obtained by the in-
tercession of the saints, for " if a man knows
his brother to sin a sin not unto death, he
asks, and He will give to him his life, for him
that sinneth not unto death; " and again: " Is
any sick among you ? Let him send for the
Elders of the Church and they shall pray over
him, anointing him with oil in the name of
the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save
the sick, and the Lord will raise him up, and
if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him." *
Sometimes too by the virtue of compassion
and faith the stains of sin are removed, ac-
cording to this passage: "By compassion and
faith snis are purged away. "*" And often
by the conversion and salvation of those who
are saved by our warnings and preaching:
" J'or he who converts a sinner from the error
of his way, shall save his soul from death,
and cover a multitude of sins." ^ Moreover
by pardon and forgiveness on our part we
obtain pardon of our sins: "For if ye forgive
men their offences, your heavenly Father will
also forgive you your sins."'' You see then
what gi'eat means of obtaining mercy the com-
passion of our Saviour has laid open to us, so
that no one when longing for salvation need
be crushed by despair, as he sees himself
called to life by so many remedies. For if
you plead that owing to weakness of the flesh
you cannot get rid of your sins by fasting, and
you cannot say: "My knees are weak from
fasting, and my flesh is changed for oil; for I
have eaten ashes for my bread, and mingled
my drink with weeping," ^ then atone for them

' I's. vi. 7, 9. 2 ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5; Is. xliii. 26.

2 Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 18; Is. i. 16-1S. " S. James v. 20.

* I John V. 16; S. James v. 14, 15. . ' S- ^latt. vi. 14.

* Prov. XV. 27. " Ps. cviii. (cix.) 24 ; ci. (cii.) 10.

by profuse almsgiving. If you have nothing
that you can give to the needy (although the
claims of want and poverty exclude none from
this office, since the two mites of the widow
are ranked higher than the splendid gifts of
the rich, and the Lord promises that He will
give a reward for a cup of cold water), at least
you can purge them away by amendment of
life. But it you cannot secure perfection in
goodness by the eradication of all your faults,
you can show a pious anxiety for the good and
salvation of another. But if you complain
that you are not equal to this service, you can
cover your sins by the affection of love. And
if in this also some sluggishness of mind
makes you weak, at least you should submis-
sively with a feeling of humility entreat for
remedies for your wounds by the prayers and
intercession of the saints. Finally who is
there who cannot humbly say: "I have ac-
knowledged my sin : and mine unrighteous-
ness have I not hid;" so that by this
confession he maybe able also to add this:
" And Thou forgavest the iniquity of my
heart."'* But if shame holds you back, and
yoil blush to reveal them before men, you
should not cease to confess them with constant
supplication to Him from Whom they cannot
be hid, and to say to Him: "I acknowledge
mine iniquity, and my sin is ever before
me. Against Thee only have I sinned, and
have done evil before Thee; " -"^ as He is wont
to heal them without any publication which
brings shame, and to forgive sins without any
reproaching. And further besides that ready
and sure aid the Divine condescension has
afforded us another also that is still easier,
and has entrusted the possession of the rem-
edy to our own will, so that we can infer
from our own feelings the forgiveness of our
offences, when we say to Him : " Forgive us our
debts as we also forgive our debtors." ^^ Who-
ever then desires to obtain forgiveness of his
sins, should study to fit himself for it by these
means. Let not the stubbornness of an obdu-
rate heart turn away any from the saving
remedy and the fount of so much goodness,
because even if we have done all these things,
they will not be able to expiate our offences,
unless they are blotted out by the goodness
and mercy of the I..ord, who when He sees
the service of pious efforts offered by us with
a humble heart, supports our small and puny
efforts with the utmost bounty, and says: "I
even I am He that blotteth out thine iniqui-
ties for Mine own sake, and I will remember
thy sins no more." ^- Whoever then is aiming

' Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5.
'" Ps. 1. (li.) s, 6.

» S. Matt. vi.
I! Is. xliii. 25.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS.

501

at this condition, wlaich we have mentioned,
will seek the grace of satisfaction by daily
fasting and mortihcation of heart and body,
for, as it is written, "Without shedding of
blood there is no remission; " -^ and this not
without good reason. For "flesh and blood
cannot inherit the kingdom of God."^ And
therefore one who would withhold "the sword
of the spirit which is the Avord of God " ^ from
this shedding of blood certainly comes under
the lash of that curse of Jeremiah's; for
"Cursed," says he, '"is he who withholds his
sword from blood."* For this is the sword,
which for our good sheds that bad blood
whereby the material of our sins lives; and
cuts off and pares away everything carnal and
earthly which it finds to have grown up in the
members of our soul; and makes men die to
sin and live to God, and flourish with spiri-
tual virtues. And so he will begin to weep no
more at the recollection of former sins, but
at the hope of what is to come, and, thinking
less of past evils than of good things to come,
will shed tears not from sorrow at his sins,
but from delight in that eternal joy, and "for-
getting those things which are behind," i.e.,
carnal sins, will press on "to those before,"^
i.e., to spiritual gifts and virtues.

CHAPTER IX.

How valuable to the perfect is the forgetfulness of sin.

But with regard to this that you said a little
way back ; viz., that you of set purpose go over
the recollections of past sins, this ought cer-
tainly not to be done, nay, if it forcibly sur-
prises you, it must be at once expelled. For
it greatly hinders the soul from the contem-
plation of purity, and especially in the case of
one who is living in solitude, as it entangles
him in the stains of this world and swamps
him in foul sins. For while you are recalling
those things which you did through ignorance
or wantonness in accordance with the prince
of this world, though I grant you that while
you are engaged in these thoughts no delight
in them steals in, yet at least the mere taint
of the ancient filthiness is sure to corrupt your
soul with its foul stink, and to shut out the
spiritual fragrance of goodness, i.e., the odour
of a sweet savour. When then the recollec-
tion of past sins comes over your mind, you
must recoil from it just as an honest and up-
right man runs away if he is sought out in
public by an immodest and wanton woman

1 Heb. ix. 22.
^ I Cor. XV. 50.

2 Eph. vi. 17.
* Jer. xlviii. 10.

s Phil. iii. 13.

either by words or by embraces. And cer-
tainly unless he at once withdraws himself
from contact with her, and if he allows him-
self to linger the very least in impure talk,
even if he refuses his consent to the shameful
pleasures, yet he cannot avoid the brand of
infamy and scorn in the judgment of all the
passers by. So then we also, if by noxious
recollections we are led to thoughts of this
kind, ought at once to desist from dwelling
upon them and to fultil what we are com-
manded by Solomon: "But go forth," says
he, "do not linger in her place, nor fix thine
eye on her ; " '^ lest if the angels see us taken
up with unclean and foul thoughts, they may
not be able to say to us in passing by : " The
blessing of the Lord be upon you."'' For it
is impossible for the soul to continue in good
thoughts, when the main part of the heart is
taken up with foul and earthly considerations.
For this saying of Solomon's is true: "When
thine eyes look on a strange woman, then
shall thy mouth speak wickedly, and thou
shalt lie as it were in the midst of the sea,
and as a pilot in a great storm. But thou
shalt say: They have beaten me, but I felt no
pain; and they mocked me, but I felt not."^
So then we should forsake not only all foul
but even all earthly thoughts and ever raise
the desires of our soul to heavenly things, in
accordance with this saying of our Saviour:
"For where I am," He says, "there also shall
My servant be." ^ For it often happens that
when anyone out of pity is in thought going
over his own falls or those of other faultv
persons, he is affected by the delight and
assent to this most subtle attack, and that
which was undertaken and started with a show
of goodness ends with a filthy and damaging
termination, for " there are ways which appear
to men to be right, but the ends thereof will
come to the depths of hell." ^'^

CHAPTER X.

How the recollection of our sins should be avoided.

Wherefore we must endeavour to rouse
ourselves to this praiseworthy contrition, by
aiming at virtue and by the desire for the
kingdom of heaven rather than by dangerous
recollections of sins, for a man is sure to be
suffocated by the pestilential smells of the
sewer as long: as he chooses to stand over it
or to stir its filth.

" Prov. ix. 18. ' Prov. xxiii. 33-35. '" Prov. xvi. 25.

' Ps. cxxviii. (cxxix.) S. ^ S. John xii. 26.

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CHAPTER XI.

Of the marks of satisfaction, and the removal of past sins.

But we know, as we have often said, that
then only have we made satisfaction for past
sins, when the very motions and feelings,
through which we were guilty of what we
have to sorrow for, have been eradicated from
our hearts. But no one should fancy that he
can secure this, unless he has first with all the
fervour of his spirit cut off the opportunities
and occasions, owing to which he fell into
those sins; as for instance, if through danger-
ous familiarity with a woman he has fallen
into fornication or adulterv, he must take the
utmost pains to avoid even looking on one;
or if he has been overcome by too much wine
and over-eating, he should chastise with the
utmost severity his craving for immoderate
food. And again if he has been led astray
by the desire for and love of money, and has
fallen into perjury or theft or murder or blas-
phemy, he should cut off the occasion for
avarice, which has allured and deceived him.
If he is driven by the passion of pride into
the sin of anger, he should with all the virtue
of humilitv, remove the incentive to arrogance.
And so, in order that each single sin may
be destroyed, the occasion and opportunity by
which or for which it was committed should
be first got rid of. For by this curative treat-
ment we can certainly attain to forgetfulness
of the sins we have committed.

CHAPTER XII.

Wherein we must do penance for a time only ; and wherein it
can have no end.

But that description of the forgetfulness
spoken of only has to do with capital offences,
which are also condemned by the mosaic law,
the inclination to which is destroyed and put
an end to by a good life, and so also the pe-
nance for them has an end. But for those
small offences in which, as it is written, "the

righteous

" 1

falls seven times and will rise
again," " penitence will never cease. For
either through ignorance, or forgetfulness, or
thought, or word, or surprise, or necessity, or
j weakness of the flesh, or defilement in a
j dream, we often fall every day either against
our will or voluntarily; offences for which
David also prays the Lord, and asks for puri-
fication and pardon, and says: "Viho can
understand sins? from my secret ones cleanse
me ; and from those of others spare Thy ser-
vant;" and the Apostle: "For the good
which I would I do not, and the evil which I
would not, that I do." For which also the
same man exclaims with a sigh : *" O wretched
man that I am! who shall deliver me from
the body of this death.^"^ For we slip into
these so easily as it were by a law of nature,
that ho.wever carefully and guardedly we are
on the lookout against them, we cannot alto-
gether avoid them. Since it was of these that
one of the disciples, whom Jesus loved, de-
clared and laid down absolutely saying: "If
we say that we have no sin we deceive our-
selves, and His word is not in us.'"^ Further
for a man who is anxious to reach the heights
of perfection it will not greatly help him to
have arrived at the end of penitence, i.e., to
restrain himself from unlawful acts, unless he
has always urged himself forward in unwearied
course to those virtues whereby we come to
the signs of satisfaction. For it will not be
enough for a man to have kept himself clear
from those foul stains of sins which the Lord
hates, unless he has also secured by purity of
heart and perfect Apostolical love that sweet
fragrance of virtue in which the Lord delights.
Thus far Abbot Pinufius discoursed on the
marks of satisfaction and the end of penitence.
And although he pressed us with anxious love
to decide to stay in his coenobium, yet when
he could not retain us, as we were incited by
the fame of the desert of Scete, he sent us on
our way.

' Prov. xxiv. i6.
3 I John i. 8, lo.

- Ps. xviii. (xix.)

Rom. vii. 19, 24.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

503

XXL

THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

ON THE RELAXATION DURING THE FIFTY DAYS}

CHAPTER I.

How Theonas came to Abbot John.

Before we begin to set forth the words of
this Conference held with that excellent man
Abbot Theonas,^! think it well to describe in
a brief discourse the oriofin of his conversion,
because from this the reader will be able to
see more clearly both the excellence and the
grace of the man. He then while still very
young was by the desire and command of his
parents joined in the tie of marriage, for as
with pious anxiety they were careful about his
chastity, and were afraid of a critical fall at a
dangerous age, they thought that the passions
of youth might be anticipated by the rem-
edy of a lawful marriage. When then he had
lived for five years with a wife, he came to
Abbot John, who was then for his marvellous
sanctity chosen to preside over the adminis-
tration of the alms.^ For it is not anyone
who likes who is of his own wish or ambition
promoted to this office, but only he whom the
congregation of all the Elders considers from
the advantage of his age and the witness of
his faith and virtues to be more excellent
than, and superior to, all others. To this
blessed John then the aforesaid young man
had come in the eagerness of his pious de-
votion, bringing gifts of piety among other
owners who were eager to offer tithes and first-
fruits of their substance to the old man I
mentioned,* and when the old man saw them
pouring in upon him with many gifts, and
was anxious to make some recompense in
return for their offerings, he began, as the
Apostle says, to sow spiritual things to them

'^ On Quinquagesinia see the note on the Institutes II. vi.

^ Nothing further is known of this Theonas than what Cassian
here tells us : lie is clearly a different person from the one mentioned
by Rufinus, Hist. Mon. c. vi. Cf. Palladius, Lausiac History, c. 1.

3 Diaconia. Cf. the note on XVIII. vii.

^ This is noteworthy as being the earliest instance on /ecord
of the payment of tithes to a monastery. The language of the Con-
ference, it will be noted, shows that they were not regarded as
le!;ally due or in any way compulsory, but as a free-will offeiing on
the part of the faithful. Cf. Bingham, Antiquities, l!ook VII. ciii.
§ 19; and the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. ii. p. 1964.

whose carnal gifts he was reaping.® And
finally thus began his word of exhortation.

CHAPTER II.

The exliortation of .Abbot John to Theonas and the others
who had come together with him.

I AM indeed delighted, my children, with
the duteous liberality of your gifts; and your
devout offering, the disposal of which is en-
trusted to me, I gratefully accept, because you
are oft'ering your firstfruits and tithes for the
good and use of the needy, as a sacrifice to
the Lord, of a sweet smelling savour, in the
belief that by the offering of them, the abun-
dance of your fruits and all your substance,
from which you have taken away these for
the Lord, will be richly blessed, and that you
yourselves will according to the faith of His
command be endowed even in this world with
manifold richness in all good things: "Ho-
nour the Lord from thy righteous labours, and
oft'er to Him of the fruits of thy righteous-
ness; that thy garners may be full of abun-
dance of wheat, and thy vats may overflow
with wine." ^ And as you are faithfully car-
rying out this service, you may know that you
have fulfilled the righteousness of the old law,
under which those who then lived if they
transgressed it inevitably incurred guilt, while
if they fulfilled it they could not attain to a
pitch of perfection.

CHAPTER TIL

Of the offering of tithes and firstfruits.

For indeed by the Lord's command tithes
were consecrated to the service of the Levites,
but oblations and firstfruits for the priests."
But this was the law of the firstfruits; viz.,

^ Cf. I Cor. ix. II.
* Prov. iii. 9, 10.

^ Cf. Numb, xviii. 26 ; v. 9,

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

that the fiftieth part of fruits or animals should
be given for the service of the temple and the
priests: and this proportion some who were
faithlessly indifferent diminished, while those
who were very religious increased it, so that
the one gave only the sixtieth part, and the
other gave the fortieth part of their fruits.
For the righteous, for whom the law is not
enacted, are thus shown to be not under the
law, as they try not only to fulfil but even to
exceed the righteousness of the law, and their
devotion is greater than the legal require-
ment, as it goes beyond the observance of
precepts and adds to what is due of its own
free will.

CHAPTER IV.

How Abraham, David, and other saints went beyond the
requirement of the law.

For so we read that Abraham went beyond
the requirement of the law which was after-
wards to be given, when after his victory over
the four kings, he would not touch any of the
spoils of Sodom, which were fairly due to him
as the conqueror, and which indeed, the king
himself, whose spoils he had rescued, offered
him; and with an oath by the Divine name he
exclaimed : '* I lift up my hand to the Lord
Most High, who made heaven and earth, that
I will not take from a thread to a shoe's
latchet of all that is thine. "^ So we know
that David went beyond the requirement of
the law, as, though Moses commanded that
vengeance should be taken on enemies,- he
not only did not do this, but actually em-
braced his persecutors with love, and piously
entreated the Lord for them, and wept bitterly
and avenged them when they were slain. So
we are sure that Elijah and Jeremiah were not
under the law, as though they might without
blame have taken advantage of lawful matri-
mony, yet they preferred to remain virgins.
So we read that Elisha and others of the
same mode of life went beyond the commands
of Moses, as of them the Apostle speaks as
follows: "They went about in sheepskins and
in goatskins, they were oppressed, afflicted,
in want, of whom the world was not worthy,
they wandered about in deserts and in moun-
tains, and in caves and in dens of the earth." ^
What shall I say of the sons of Jonadab the
son of Rechab, of whom w-e are told that,
when at the Lord's bidding the prophet
Jeremiah offered them wine, they replied:
"We drink no wine: for Jonadab the son
of Rechab, our father, commanded us, say-
ing: Ye shall drink no wine, ye and your
sons forever: and ye shall build no house,

* Gen. xiv. 22, 23. ' Cf. Exod. xxi. 24. ' Heb. xi. 37, 38.

nor sow any seed, nor plant vineyards nor
possess them: but ye shall dwell in tents all
your days " ? Wherefore also they were per-
mitted to hear from the same prophet these
words: "Thus saith the Lord God of hosts, the
God of Israel : there shall noc fail a man from
the stock of Jonadab the son of Rechab to
stand in My sight all the days;''* as all of
them were not satisfied w'ith merely offering
tithes of their possessions, but actually refused
property, and offered the rather to God them-
selves and their souls, for which no redemp-
tion can be made by man, as the Lord testifies
in the gospel : " For what shall a man give in
exchange for his own soul ? '" ^

CHAPTER V.

How those who live under the grace of the Gospel ought to go
beyond the requirement of the law.

W' HEREFORE wc ouglit to know that we from
whom the requirements of the law are no
longer exacted, but in whose ears the word of
the gospel daily sounds: "If thou wilt be
perfect, go and sell all that thou hast and
give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure
in heaven, and come follow Me,"® when we
offer to God tithes of our substance, are still
in a way ground down beneath the burden of
the law, and not able to rise to those heights
of the gospel, those who conform to which
are recompensed not only by blessings in this
present life, but also by future rewards. For
the law promises to those who obey it no re-
wards of the kingdom of heaven, but only
solaces in this life, saying: "The man that
doeth these things shall live in them."'^ But
the Lord says to His disciples: "Blessed are
the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven ; " and : " Everyone that leaveth
house or brothers or sisters or father or mother
or wife or children or field for My name's
sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall
inherit eternal life."^ And this with good
reason. For it is not so praiseworthy for
us to abstain from forbidden as from lawful
things, and not to use these last out of reve-
rence for Him, Who has permitted us to use
them because of our weakness. And so if
even those who, faithfully oft^ering tithes of
their fruits, are obedient to the more ancient
precepts of the Lord, cannot yet climb the
heights of the gospel, you can see very clearly
how far short of it those fall who do not even
do this. F'or how can those men be partakers
of the grace of the gospel who disregard the

* Jer. XXXV. 6, 7, 19. " S. Matt. xix. 21. ' S. Matt. v. 3 ; xix. 29.
= S. Matt. xvi. 25. ' Lev. xviii. 5.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

505

fulfilment even of the lighter commands of the
law, to the easy character of which the weighty
words of the giver of the law bear testimony,
as a curse is actually invoked on those who do
not fulfil them; for it says: "Cursed is every-
one that does not continue in all things that
are written in the book of the law to do
them.'" ^ But here on account of the superi-
ority and excellence of the commandments it
is said: '"He that can receive it, let him re-
ceive it."^ There the forcible compulsion of
the lawgiver shows the easy char4cter of the
precepts; for he says: "I call heaven and
earth to record against you this day, that if
ye do not keep the commandments of the Lord
your God ye shall perish from off the face of
the earth. "^ Here the grandeur of sublime
commands is shown by the very fact that He
does not order, but ex/iorts, saying : " if thou
wilt be perfect go " and do this or that. There
Moses lays a burden that cannot be refused
on those who are unwilling: here Paul meets
with counsels those who are willing and eager
for perfection. For that was not to be enjoined
as a general charge, nor to be required, if I
may so say. as a regular rule from all, which
could not be secured by all, owing to its won-
derful and lofty nature; but by counsels all
are rather stimulated to grace, that those who
are great may deservedly be crowned by the
perfection of their virtues, while those who are
small, and not able to come up to " the meas-
ure of the stature of the fulness of Christ,"^
although they seem to be lost to sight
and hidden as it were by the brightness of
larger stars, may yet be free from the darkness
of the curses which are in the law, and not
adjudged to suffer present evils or visited with
eternal punishment. Christ therefore does
not constrain anyone, by the compulsion of
a command, to those lofty heights of good-
ness, but stimulates them by the power of free
will, and urges them on by wise counsels and
the desire of perfection. For where there is
a command, there is duty, and consequently
punishment. But those w'ho keep those things
to which they are driven by the "severity of
the law established escape the punishment
with which they were threatened, instead of
obtaining rewards and a recompense.

CHAPTER VI.

How the grace of the gospel supports the weak so that they
can obtain pardon, as it secures to the perfect the kingdom
of God.

And as the word of the gospel raises those
that are strong to sublime and lofty heights,

' Deut. xxvii. 26.
' S. Matt. xix. 12.

3 Deut. iv. 26.
* Eph. iv. 13.

so it suffers not the weak to be dragged down
to the depths, for it secures to the perfect the
fulness of blessing, and brings to those who
are overcome through weakness pardon. P'or
the law placed those who fulfilled its com-
mands in a sort of middle state between what
they deserved in either case, severing them
from the condemnation due to transgressors, as
it also kept them away from the glory of the
perfect. But how wretched and miserable this
is, you can see from comparing the state of
this present life, in which it is considered a
very poor thing for a man to sweat and
labour only to avoid being regarded as guilty
among good men, not also to be esteemed rich
and honourable and renowned.

CHAPTER Vn.

How it lies in our own power to choose whether to remain
under the grace of the gospel or under tiie terror of the law.

Wherefore it lies today in our own power
whether we choose to live under the grace of
the gospel or under the terrors of the law : for
each man must incline to one side or the
other in accordance with the character of his
actions, for either the grace of Christ wel-
comes those who go beyond the law, or else
the law keeps its hold over the weaker ones
as those who are its debtors and within its
clutches. For one who is guilty as regards
the precepts of the law will never be able to
attain to the perfection of the gospel, even
though he idly boasts that he is a Christian
and freed by the Lord's grace: for we must
not only regard as still under the law the man
who refuses to fulfil what the law enjoins, but
the man as well who is satisfied with the mere
observance of what the law commands, and
who never brings forth fruits worthv of his
vocation and the grace of Christ, where it is
not said : " Thou shalt offer to the Lord thy God
thy tithes and firstfruits;" but: "Go and sell
all that thou hast and give to the poor, and
come follow Me ; " ^ where, owing to the grand-
eur of perfection, to the request of the dis-
ciple there is not granted even the very short
space of an hour in which to bury his father,®
as the offices of human charity are outweighed
by the virtue of Divine love.

CHAPTER VHL

How Thepnas exhorted his wife that she too should make her
renunciation.

And when he had heard this the blessed
Theonas was fired with an uncontrollable

5 Exod. xxii. 29; S. Matt. xix. 21. " Cf. S. ^tatt. viii. 21,'sa.

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desire for the perfection of the gospel, and,
committed, as it were, the seed of the word,
which he had received in a fruitful heart, to '
the deep and broken furrows of his bosom,
as he was greatly humiliated and conscience-
stricken because the old man had said not
only that he had failed to attain to the per- !
fection of the gospel, but also that he had
scarcely fulfilled the commands of the law;
since though he was accustomed every year
to pay the tithes of his fruits as alms, yet he
mourned that he had never even heard of the
law of the firstfruits; and even if he had in
the same way fulfilled this, he humbly con-
fessed that still he would in the old man's
view have been very far from the perfection
of the gospel. And so he returned home sad
and filled with that sorrow which worketh
repentance unto salvation,^ and of his own
will and determination turns all his wife's care
and anxiety of mind towards salvation ; and
began to stir her up to the same eager desire
with which he himself had been inflamed, with
the same sort of exhortations, and with tears
day and night to urge her that together they
might serve God in sanctity and chastity, tell-
ing her that their conversion to a better life
ought not to be deferred because a vain hope
in their youth would be no argument against
the inevitableness of a sudden death, which
carries off boys and youths and young persons
equally with old men.

CHAPTER IX.

How he fled to a monastery wlien his wife would not consent.

And when his wife was hard and would not
consent to him as he constantly persisted with
entreaties of this kind, but said that as she was
in the flower of her age she could not alto-
gether do without the solace of her husband,
and further that supposing she was deserted
by him and fell into sin, the guilt would rather
be his who had broken the bonds of wedlock:
to this he, when he had for a long while
urged the condition of human nature (which
being so weak and uncertain, it would be
dangerous for it to be any longer mixed up
with carnal desires and works), added the as-
sertion that it was not right for anyone to cut
himself off from that virtue to which he had
learnt that he ought by all means to cleave, and
that it was more dangerous to disre<rard good-
ness when discovered, than to fail to love it
before it was discovered ; further that he was al-
ready involved in the guilt of a fall if when he
had discovered such grand and heavenly bless-

' Cf. 2 Cor. vii. to.

ings he had preferred earthly and mean ones.
Further that the grandeur of perfection was
open to every age and either sex, and that all
the members of the Church were urged to scale
the heights of heavenly goodness when the
Apostle said: " So run that ye may obtain; " -
nor should those who were ready and eager
for it hang back because of the delays of the
slow and dawdlers, as it is better for the slug-
gards to be urged on by those running before
than for those who are doing their best to be
hampered by the slothful. Further that he
had determined and made up his mind to
renounce the world and to die to the world
that he might live to God, and that if he
could not attain this happiness; viz., to pass
with his wife into union witli Christ, he would
rather be saved even with the loss of one
member, and enter into the kingdom of heaven
as one maimed rather than be condemned
with his body whole. But he also added and
spoke as follows: If Moses suffered wives to
be divorced for the hardness of their hearts,
why should not Christ allow this for the
desire of chastity, especially when the same
Lord among those other affections; viz., for
fathers and mothers and children (all due
regard to which not only the law but He Him-
self also charged to be shown, yet for His
name's sake and for the desire of perfection He
decreed that they should not simply be disre-
garded but actually hated) — to these, I say.
He joined also the mention of wives, saying:
" And everyone that hath left house, or brethren
or sisters or father or mother or wife or child-
ren for My name's sake, shall receive an hun-
dredfold and shall inherit eternal life."^ So
far then is He from allowing anything to be
set against that perfection which He is pro-
claiming, that He actually enjoins that the
ties to father and mother should be broken
and disregarded out of love for Him, though
according to the Apostle it is the first com-
mandment with promise; viz., "Honour thy
father and thy mother, which is the first com-
mandment with promise, that it may be well
with thee and that thy days may be long upon
earth."* And as the word of the gospel
condemns those who break the chains of
matrimony where there has been no sin of
adultery, so it clearly promises a reward of an
hundredfold to those who have cast off a
carnal yoke out of love for Christ and the
desire for chastity. Wherefore if it can be
brought about that you may listen to reason
and be turned together with me to this most
desirable choice; viz., that we should together
serve the Lord and escape the pains of hell,
I will not refuse the affection of marriage,

' I Cor. ix. 24.

' S. Matt. xix. 29.

* Eph. vi. 2, 3.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

507

nay I will embrace it with a still greater love.
For I acknowledge and honour my helpmeet
assigned to me by the word of the Lord, and
I do not refuse to be joined to her in an un-
broken tie of love in Christ, nor do I separate
from me what the Lord joined to me iDy tiie
law of the original condition,^ if only you
yourself will be what your Maker meant you
to be. But if you will not be a helpmeet,
but prefer to make yourself a deceiver and
an assistance not to me but to the adversary,
and fancy that the sacrament of matrimony
was granted to you for this reason that you
may deprive yourself of this salvation which
is offered to you, and also hold me back from
following the Saviour as a disciple, then I
will resolutely lay hold on the words which
were uttered by the lips of Abbot John, or
rather of Christ Himself, so that no carnal
affection may be able to tear me away from
spiritual blessings, for- He saj's: "He that
hateth not father and mother and children
and brothers and sisters and wife and lands,
yea and his own soul also, cannot be My
disciple."'^ When then by these and such
like words the woman's purpose was not
moved and she persisted in the same obstinate
hardness, If, said the blessed Theonas, I can-
not drag you away from death, neither shall
you separate me from Christ: but it is safer
for me to be divorced from a human person
than from God. And so by the aid of God's
grace he at once set about the execution of
his purpose and suffered not the ardour of
his desire to grow cool through any delay.
For at once he stripped himself of all his
worldly goods, and fled to a monastery, where
in a very short time he was so famous for the
splendour of his sanctity and humility that
when John of blessed memory departed this
life to the Lord, and the holy Elias, a man
who was no less great than his predecessor,
had likewise died, Theonas was chosen by the
judgment of all as the third to succeed them
in the administration of the almsgiving.

CHAPTER X.

An explanation that we may not appear to recommend
separation trom wives.

But let no one imagine that we have in-
vented this for the sake of encouraging
divorce, as we not only in no way condemn
marriage, but also, following the words of
the Apostle, say: "Marriage is honourable
in all, and the bed undefiled,"^ but it was
in order faithfully to show the reader the

1 Cf. Gen. ii. iS

2 S. Luke xiv. 26.

2 Heb. xiii. 4.

origin of the conversion by which this great
man was dedicated to God. And I ask the
reader kindly to allow that, whether he likes
this or no, in either case I am free from
blame, and to give the praise or blame for
this act to its real author. But as for me,
as I have not put forward an opinion of my
own on this matter, but have given a simple
narration of the history of the facts, it is fair
that as I claim no praise from those who ap-
prove of what was done, so I should not be
attacked by the hatred of those who disap-
prove of it. Let every man therefore, as we
said, have his own opinion on the matter.
But I advise him to restrain his censure in
considering it, lest he come to fancy that he
is more just and holy than the Divine judg-
ment, whereby the signs even of Apostolic
virtue were conferred upon him (viz., Theo-
nas), not to mention the opinion of such great
fathers by whom it is clear that his action
was not only not blamed, but even so far
praised that in the election to the ofifice of
almoner they preferred him to splendid and
most excellent men. And I fancy that the
judgment of so many spiritual men, uttered
with God as its author, was not wrong, as it
was, as was said above, confirmed by such
wonderful signs, v

CHAPTER XL

An inquiry why in Egypt they do not fast during all the
fifty days (of Easter) nor bend their knees in prayer.

But it is now time to follow out the plan
of the promised discourse. So then when .
Abbot Theonas had come to visit us in our
cell during Eastertide * after Evensong was
over we sat for a little while on the ground
and began diligently to consider why they
were so very careful that no one should during
the whole fifty days either bend his knees in
prayer* or venture to fast till the ninth hour,
and we made our inquiry the more earnestly
because we had never seen this custom so
carefully observed in the monasteries of
Syria.

CHAPTER Xn.

The answer on the nature of things good, bad, and indifferent.

To this Abbot Theonas thus began his reply.
It is indeed right for us, even when we can-

* Quinquagesima.

'' The 20th Canon of the Council of Nicsa (a.d. 325) alludes
to diversitie."! of custom witli regard to posture for prayer on Sun-
days and from Easter to Pentecost, and ordered that for the future
prayer should be made standing at these times. Cassian's language
in the text would seem to sliow that in his day the Canon in ques-
tion, though kept in Egypt, was not strictly observed in Palestine,
but that the ancient diversity of customs still to some extent prevailed.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

not see the reason, to yield to the authority of
the fathers and to a custom of our predeces-
sors that has been continued through so many
years down to our own time, and to observe
it, as handed down from antiquity, with con-
stant care and reverence. But since you want
to know the reasons and grounds for this,
receive in few words what we have heard as
handed down by our Elders on this subject.
But before wa bring forward the authority of
Holy Scripture, we will, if you please, say a
little about the nature and character of the
fast, that afterwards the authority of Holy
Scripture may support our words. The Divine
Wisdom has pointed out in Ecclesiastes that
for everything, i.e., for all things happy or
those which are considered unfortunate and
unhappy, there is a right time: saying: ''For
all things there is a time, and a time for every-
thing under the heaven. A time to bring
forth and a time to die; a time to plant and
a time to pull down what is planted; a time
to kill and a time to heal; a time to destroy
and a time to build; a time to weep and a
time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to
dance; a time to cast away stones and a time
to gather stones; a time to embrace and a
time to refrain from embracing; a time to
get and a time to lose; a time to keep and
a time to send away; a time to scatter and a
time to collect; a time to be silent and a time
to speak ; a time to love and a time to hate ;
a time for war and a time for peace ; " and
below: "For there is a time,'" it says, "for
everything and for every deed. " ^ None there-
fore of these things does it lay dov>fn as always
good, but only when any of them are fittingly
done and at the right time, so that these very
things which at one time, when done at the
right moment, turn out well, if they are ven-
tured on at a wrong or unsuitable time, are
found to be useless or harmful ; only except-
ing those things which are in their own nature
good or bad, and which cannot ever be made
the opposite, as, e.g., justice, prudence, forti-
tude, temperance and the rest of the virtues,
or on the other hand, those faults, the des-
cription of which cannot possibly be altered
or fall under the other head. But those things
which can sometimes turn out with either
result, so that, in accordance with the char-
acter of those who use them, they are found to
be either good or bad, these w-e consider to be
not absolutely in their own natures useful or
injurious, but only so in accordance with the
mind of the doer, and the suitableness of the
time.

* Eccl. iii. 1-8, 17.

CHAPTER Xin.

What kind of good fasting is.

Wherefore we must now inquire what we
ought to hold about the state of fasting,
whether we meant that it was good ii the
same sort of way as justice, prudence, forti-
tude and temperance, which cannot possibly
be made anything else, or whether it is some-
thing indifferent which sometimes is useful
when done, and may be sometimes omitted
without condemnation ; and which sometimes
it is wrong to do, and sometimes laudable to
omit. For if we hold fasting to be included
in that list of virtues, so that abstinence from
food is placed among those things which are
good in themselves, then certainly the par-
taking of food will be bad and wrong. For
whatever is the opposite of that which is in
its own nature good, must certainly be held
to be in its own nature bad. But this the
authority of Holy Scripture does not allow to
us to lay down. For if we fast with such
thoughts and intentions, so as to think that
we fall into sin by taking food, we shall not
only gain no advantage by our abstinence
but shall actually contract grievous guilt and
fall into the sin of impiety, as the Apostle
says: "Abstaining from meats which God
has created to be received with thanksgiving
by the faithful and those who know the truth.
For every creature of God is good, and no-
thing to be refused if it is partaken of with
thanksgiving." For "if a man thinks that a
thing i} common, to him it is common."^
And therefore we never read that anyone is
condemned simply for taking food, but only
when something was joined with it or followed
afterwards, for which he deserved condemna-
tion.

CHAPTER XIV.

How fasting is not good in its own nature.

And so that it is a thing indifferent is very
clearly shown from this also; viz., because
as it brings justification when observed, so it
does not bring condemnation when it is broken
in upon; unless perhaps the transgression of
a command rather than the partaking of food
brings punishment. But in the case of a thing
that is good in its own nature, no time should
be without it, in such a way as that a man
may do without it, for if it ceases, the man
who is careless about it is sure to fall into

» I Tim. iv. 3, 4; Rom. xiv. 14.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

509

mischief. Nor again is any time given for
what is bad in its own nature, because what
is hurtful cannot help hurting, if it is indulged
in, nor can it ever be made of a praiseworthy
character. And further it is clear that these
things, for which we see conditions and times
appointed, and which sanctify, when observed
without corrupting us when they are neglected,
are things indifferent, as, e.g., marriage, agri-
culture, riches, retirement into the desert,
vigils, reading and meditation on Holy Scrip-
ture and fasting itself, from which our discus-
sion took its rise. All of which things the
Divine precepts and the authority of Holy
Scripture decreed should not be so inces-
santly aimed at, or so constantly observed, as
for it to be wrong for them to be for a time
intermitted. For anything that is absolutely
commanded brings death if it be not fulfilled:
but whatever things we are urged to rather
than commanded, when done are useful, when
left undone bring no punishment. And there-
fore in the case of all or some of these things
our predecessors commanded us either to do
them with consideration, or to observe them
carefully with regard to the reason, place,
manner, and time, because if any of them are
done suitably, it is tit and convenient, but if
incongruously, then it becomes foolish and
hurtful. And if at the coming of a brother,
in whose person he ought to refresh Christ
with courtesy and to embrace him with a most
kindly welcome, a man should choose to ob-
serve a strict fast, would he not rather be
guilty of incivility than gain the praise or
reward of devoutness .-' or if when the failure
or weakness of the flesh requires the strength
to be restored by the partaking of food, a man
will not consent to relax the rigour of his
abstinence, is he not to be regarded as a cruel
murderer of his own body rather than as one
who is careful for his salvation? So too
when a festival season permits a suitable in-
dulgence in food and a necessarily liberal
repast, if a man will resolutely cling to the
strict observance of a fast he must be consid-
ered as not religious so much as boorish and
unreasonable. But to those men also will
these things be found bad, who are on the
lookout for the praises of men by their fasts,
and by a foolish show of paleness gain credit
for sanctity, of whom the word of the Gospel
tells us that they have received their reward
in this life, and whose fast the Lord execrates
by the prophet. In whose person he first
objected to himself and said: "Wherefore
have we fasted and Thou hast not regarded :
wherefore have we humbled our souls, and
Thou hast not known it?" and then at once
he answered and explained the reasons why

they did not deserve to be heard: "Behold,"
he says, " in the days of your fast your own
will is found and you exact of all your debtors.
Behold you fast for debates and strife, and
strike with the fist wickedly. Do not fast as
ye have done unto this day, to make your cry
to be heard on high. Is this such a fast as 1
have chosen, for a man to afflict his soul for
a day? Is it this, to wind his head about like
a circle, and to spread sackcloth and ashes?
Will ye call this a fast and a day acceptable
to the I.,ord ? " Then he proceeds to teach
how the abstinence of one who fasts may
become acceptable, and clearly lays down
that fasting cannot be good of itself alone,
but only when it has the following reasons
which are added: "Is not this," he says,
"the fast that I have chosen? Loose the
bands of wickedness, undo the bundles that
oppress, let them that are broken go free, and
break asunder every burden. Deal thy bread
to the hungry, and bring the needy and the
harbourless into thine house : and when thou
shalt see one naked cover him, and despise
not thine own flesh. Then shalt thy light
break forth as the morning and thy health
shall speedily arise, and thy righteousness
shall go befcre thy face and the glory of the
Lord shall gather thee up. Then shalt thou
call, and the Lore! shall hear: thou shalt cry,
and He shall say, Here am I."^ You see
then that fasting is certainly not considered
by the Lord as a thing that is good in its own
nature, because it becomes good and well-
pleasing to God not by itself but by other
works, and again from the surrounding cir-
cumstances it may be regarded as not merely
vain but actually hateful, as the Lord says:
" When they fast I will not hear their
prayers." ^

CHAPTER XV.

How a thing that is good in its own nature ought not to be
done for the sake of some lesser good.

For we ought not to practise pity, patience
and love, and the precepts of the virtues
mentioned above, wherein there is what is
good in its own nature, for the sake of fasting,
but rather fasting for the sake of them. For
our endeavour must be that those virtues
which are really good may be gained by
fasting, not that the practice of those virtues
may lead to fasting as its end. For this then
the affliction of the flesh is useful, for this the
remedy of abstinence must be employed; viz.,
that by it we may succeed in attaining to love,
wherein there is what is good without change.

1 Isa. Iviii. 3-9.

* Jer. xiv. 12,

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

and continually with no exception of time.
For medicines, and the goldsmith's art, and
the systems of other arts Avhich there are in
this world are not employed for the sake of
the instruments which belong to the particular
work; but rather the implements are prepared
for the practice of the art. And as they are
useful for those who understand them, so they
are useless to those who are ignorant of the
system of the art in question; and as they
are a great help to those who rely on their aid
for doing their work, so they cannot be of the
smallest use to those who do not know for
what purpose they were made, and are con-
tented simply with the possession of them;
because they make all their value consist in the
mere having of them, and not in the perform-
ance of work. That then is in its own nature
the best thing, for the sake of which things
indifferent are done, but the very chiefest
good is done not for the sake of anything else
but because of its own intrinsic goodness.

CHAPTER XVI.

How what is good in its own nature can be distinguished from
other things that are good.

And this may be distinguished from those
other things which we have termed indiffer-
ent, in these ways: if a thing is good in itself
and not by reason of something else : if it is use-
ful for its own sake, and not for the sake of
something else : if it is unchangeably and at all
times good, and always keeps its character and
can never become anything different: if its re-
moval or cessation cannot fail to produce the
greatest harm: if that which is its opposite is
in the same way evil in its own nature, and
can never be turned into anything good. And
these descriptions by which the nature of
things that are good in themselves can be
distinguished, cannot possibly be applied to
fasting, for it is not good of itself, nor useful
for its own sake because it is wisely used for
the acquisition of purity of heart and body,
that the pricks of the flesh being dulled the
soul may be pacified and reconciled to its
Creator, nor is it unchangeably and at all
times good, because often we are not injured
by its intermission, and indeed sometimes if
it is unreasonably practised it becomes injuri-
ous. Nor is that which seems its opposite
evil in its own nature, i.e., the partaking of
food, which is naturally agreeable, which
cannot be regarded as evil, unless intemper-
ance and luxury or some other faults are the
result; "For not that which entereth into the
mouth, dehleth a man, but that which cometh

out of the mouth, that defileth a man." ^ And
so a man disparages what is good in its own
nature, and does not treat it properly or with-
out sin, if he does it not for its own sake but
for the sake of something else, for everything
else should be done for the sake of it, but it
should be sought for its own sake alone.

CHAPTER XVII.

Of the reason for fasting and its value.

So then let us constantly remember this
description of the character of fasting, and
always aim at it with all the powers of the
soul, in such a way as to recognize that then
only is it suitable for us if in it we preserve
regard for time, its character and degree, and
this not so as to set the end of our hope upon
it, but so that by it we may succeed in attain-
ing to purity of heart and Apostolical love.
Therefore from this it is clear that fasting, for
which not only are there special seasons ap-
pointed at which it should be practised or
relaxed, but conditions and rules also laid
down, is not good in its own mature, but some-
thing indifferent. But those things which are
either enjoined as good by the authority of a
precept, or are forbidden as bad, are never
subject to any exceptions of time in such a
way that sometimes we should do what is for-
bidden or omit what is commanded. For there
is no limit set to justice, patience, soberness,
modesty, love, nor on the other hand is a
licence ever granted for injustice, impatience,
wrath, immodesty, envy, and pride.

CHAPTER XVIII.

IIow fasting is not always suitable.

Wherefore as we have premised this on
the conditions of fasting, it seems well to sub-
join the authority of Holy Scripture, by which
it will be more clearly proved that fasting
neither can nor should be always observed.
In the Gospel when the Pharisees were fasting
together with the disciples of John the Baptist,
as the Apostles, as friends and companions of
the heavenly Bridegroom, were not 5'et keep-
ing the observance of a fast, the disciples of
John (who thought that they acquired perfect
righteousness by their fasts, as they were fol-
lowers of that grand preacher of repentance
who afforded a pattern to all the people by his
own example, as he not only refused the differ-

1 S. ISIatt. XV. II.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

511

ent kinds of food which are supplied for
man's use, but actually altogether did without
eating the bread which is common to all) com-
plained to the Lord and said: "Why do we
and the Pharisees fast oft but thy disciples
fast not?" to whom the Lord in His reply
plainly showed that fasting is not suitable
or necessary at all times, when any festival
season or opportunity for love intervenes
and permits an indulgence in food, saying:
"Can the children of the bridegroom mourn
while the bridegroom is with them? But
the days will come when the bridegroom shall
be taken away from them; and then shall
they fast; " ^ words which although they were
spoken before the resurrection of His Body,
yet specially point to the season of Easter-
tide, in which after His resurrection for forty
days He ate with His disciples, and their joy
in His daily Presence did not allow them to
fast.

CHAPTER XIX.

A question why we break the fast all through Eastertide.

rigour

Germanus: Why then do we relax the
of our abstinence in our meals all
through the fifty days, whereas Christ only
remained with His disciples for forty days
after His resurrection ?

CHAPTER XX.

The answer.

Your pertinent question deserves to be
told the perfect true reason. After the As-
cension of our Saviour which took place on
the fortieth day after His Resurrection, the
apostles returned from the Mount of Olives,
on which He had suffered them to see Him
when He was returning to the Father, as the
book of the Acts of the Apostles also testifies,
and entered Jerusalem and are said to have
waited ten days for the coming of the Holy
Ghost, and when these were fulfilled on the
fiftieth day they received Him with joy.
And thus in this way the number of this fes-
tival was clearly made up, which as we read
was figuratively foreshadowed also in the Old
Testament, where when seven weeks were ful- '
filled the bread of the firstfruits was ordered to
be offered by the priests to the Lord : ^ and this
was indeed shown to be offered to the Lord
by the preaching of the Apostles which they
are said on that day to have addressed to the
people ; the true bread of the firstfruits, which

^ S. Matt. ix. 14, 15.

- Cf. Deut. xvi. 9.

when produced from the instruction of a new
doctrine, consecrated the firstfruits of the
Jews as a Christian people to the Lord, five
thousand men being filled with the gifts of the
food. And therefore these ten days are to
be kept with equal solemnity and joy as the
previous forty. And the tradition about this
festival, transmitted to us by Apostolic men,
should be kept with the same uniformity.
For therefore on those days they do not bow
their knees in prayer, because the bending of
the knees is a sign of penitence and mourn-
ing. Wherefore also during these days we ob-
serve in all things the same solemnities as on
Sunday, on which day our predecessors taught
that men ought not to fast nor to bow the
knee, out of reverence for the Lord's Resur-
rection.

CHAPTER XXL

A question whether the relaxation of the fast is not prejudicial

to the chastity of the body.

Germanus : Can the flesh, attracted by the
unwonted luxuries of so long a festival fail to
produce something thorny from the incentives
to sin although they have been cut down ? or
can the soul weighed down by the consumption
of unaccustomed feasts fail to mitigate the
rigour of its rule over its servant the body,
especially when in our case our mature age
can excite our subject members to a speedy
revolt, if we venture to take our usual food in
larger quantities, or unaccustomed food more
freely than usual ?

CHAPTER XXII.

The answer on the way to keep control over abstinence.

Theonas : If we weigh everything that we
do, by a reasonable judgment of the mind, and
on the purity of our heart always consult not
the opinions of other people but our own con-
science, that interval for refreshment is sure
not to interfere with our proper strictness, if
only, as was said, our pure mind impartially
considers the right limits of indulgence and
abstinence, and fairly checks excess in either,
and with real discrimination discerns whether
the weight of the delicacies is a burden upon
our spirits, or whether too much austerity in
abstaining weighs down the other side, i.e.,
that of the body, and either depresses or raises
that side which it sees to be raised or weighed
down. For our Lord would have nothing
done to His honour and glory without being
tempered by judgment, for "the honour of a

512

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

king loveth judgment," ^ and therefore Solo-
mon, the wisest of men, urges us not to let
our judgment incline to either side, saying:
" Honour God with thy righteous labours and
offer to Him of the fruits of thy righteous-
ness."^ For we have residing in our con-
science an uncorrupt and true judge who
sometimes, when all are wrong, is the only
person not deceived as to the state of our
purity. And so with all care and pains we
should preserve a constant purpose in our
circumspect heart for fear lest if the judg-
ment of our discretion goes wrong, we may
be fired with the desire for an ill-considered
abstinence, or allured by the wish for an
excessive relaxation, and so weigh the sub-
stance of our strength in the tongue of an
unfair balance; but we should place in one
of the scales our purity of soul, and in the
other our bodily strength, and weigh them
both in the true judgment of conscience, so
that we may not perversely incline the scale
of fairness to either side, either to undue
strictness or to excessive relaxation, from the
preponderating desire for one or the other,
and so have this said to us by reason of ex-
cessive strictness or relaxation : " If thou
offerest rightly, but dost not divide rightly,
hast thou not sinned? " ^ For those offerings
of fasts, which we thoughtlessly extort by
violently tearing our bowels, and fancy that
we rightly offer to the Lord, these He exe-
crates who "loves mercy and judgment," say-
ing: "I the Lord love judgment, but I hate
robbery in a burnt offering. " * Those also
who take the main part of their offerings, i.e.,
their offices and actions, to benefit the flesh
for their own use, but leave the remains
of them and a tiny portion for the Lord,
these the Divine Word thus condemns as
fraudulent workmen : " Cursed is he that doeth
the work of the Lord fraudulently."* It is
not then without reason that the Lord reproves
him who thus deceives himself by unfair con-
siderations, saying: "But vain are the chil-
dren of men: the children of men are liars
upon the balances that they may deceive."^
And therefore the blessed Apostle warns us
to keep hold of the reins of discretion and
not to be attracted by excess and swer\-e to
either side, saying: "Your reasonable ser-
vice.'" And the giver of the law similarly
forbids the same thing, saying: "Let the
balance be just and the weights equal, the
bushel just and the sextarius equal," * ^nd
Solomon also gives a like opinion on this

' Ps. xcviii. (xcix.) 4.

2 Prov. iii. 9.

' Gen. iv. 7 (xxx.).

* Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) 5; Isa. Ixi. 8.

'' Jer. xlviii. 10.
« Ps. Ixi. (Ixii.) 10.
' Kom. xii. i.
' Lev. xix. 36.

matter: "Great and small weights and double
measures are both unclean before the Lord, and
one who uses them shall be hindered in his
contrivances."^ Further not only in the way
in which we have said, but also in this must
we strive not to have unfair weights in our
hearts, nor double measures in the storehouse
of our conscience, i.e., not to overwhelm
those, to whom we are to preach the word
of the Lord, with precepts that are too strict
and heavier than we ourselves can bear, while
we take for granted that for ourselves those
things which have to do with the rule of
strictness are to be softened by a freer allow-
ance of relaxation. For when we do this,
what is it but to weigh and measure the goods
and fruits of the Lord's commands in a double
weight and measure? For if we dispense
them in one way to ourselves and in another
to our brethren, we are rightly blamed by the
Lord because we have unfair balances and
double measures, in accordance with the say-
ing of Solomon w^hich tells us that "A double
weight is an abomination to the Lord, and
a deceitful balance is not good in His sight." ^"
In this way also we plainly incur the guilt of
using a deceitful weight and a double mea-
sure, if out of the desire for the praise of men,
we make a show before the brethren of greater'
strictness than what we practice in private in
our own cells, trying to appear more abstinent
and holier in the sight of men than in the
sight of God, an evil which we should not
only avoid but actually loathe. But mean-
while as we have wandered some way from
the question before us, let us return to the
point from which we started.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Of the time and measure of refreshment.

So then we should keep the observance of
the days mentioned in such a way that the
relaxation allowed may be useful rather than
harmful to the good of body and soul, because
the joy of any festival cannot blunt the pricks
of the flesh, nor can that fierce enemy of ours
be pacified by regard for days. In order then
that the observance of the customs appointed
for festival seasons may be kept and that the
most salutary rule of abstinence be not at
all exceeded it is enough for us to allow the
permitted relaxation to go so far, as for us
out of regard for the festival season to take
the food, which ought to be taken at the ninth
hour, a little earlier; viz., at the sixth hour.

" Prov. XX. 10, II.

10 lb. 23.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

513

but with this condition, that the regular allow-
ance and character of the food be not altered,
for fear lest the purity of body and upright-
ness of soul which has been gained by the
abstinence of Lent be lost by the relaxation of
Easter-tide, and it profit us nothing to have
acquired by our fast what a careless satiety
causes us presently to lose, especially as the
well-known cunning of our enemy assaults the
stronghold of our purity then chiefly when he
sees that our guard over it is somewhat relaxed
at the celebration of some festival. Where-
fore we must most vigilantly look out that the
vigour of our soul be never enervated by seduc-
tive flatteries, and we lose not the purity of
our chastity, gained, as was said, by the con-
tinuous efforts of Lent, by the repose and
carelessness of Eastertide. And therefore no
addition at all should be made to the quality
or the quantity of the food, but even on the
highest festivals we should similarly abstain
from those foods, by abstinence from which
we preserve our uprightness on common days,
that the joy of the festival may not excite in
us a most deadly conflict of carnal desires,
and so be turned to grief, and put an end to
that most excellent festival of the heart, which
exults in the joy of purity; and after a brief
show of carnal joy we begin to mourn our lost
purity of heart with a lasting sorrow of re-
pentance. Moreover we should strive that
this warning of the prophetic exhortation may
not be uttered against us to no purpose :
" Celebrate, O Judah, thy festivals, and pay
thy vows." ^ For if the occurrence of festival
days does not interfere with the continuity of
our abstinence, we shall continually enjoy
spiritual festivals and so, when we cease from
servile work, "there shall be month after
month and Sabbath after Sabbath." ^

CHAPTER XXIV.

A question on the different ways of keeping Lent.

Germanus: What is the reason why Lent
is kept for six weeks, while in some countries
a possibly more earnest care for religion seems
to have added a seventh week as well, though
neither number when you subtract Sunday and
Saturday, gives the total of forty days? For
only six and thirty days are included in
these weeks. ^

1 Nah. i. 15. ^ Isa. Ixvi. 23.

^ On the different uses in regard to the Lenten fast Socrates
(H. E. v. xxii.) writes as follows : " Those at Rome fast three succes-
sive weeks before Easter, excepting Saturdays and Sundays. The
Illyrians, Achaians, and Alexandrians observe a fast of six weeks,
which they call the forty days' fast. Otliers commencing their fast
from the seventh week before Easter, and fasting for fifteen days by
intervals, yet call that time the forty days' fast." There are difficul-

CHAPTER XXV.

The answer to the effect that the fast of Lent has reference to
the tithe of the year.

Theonas: Although the pious simplicity
of some folks would put aside a question on
this subject, yet because you are more scru-
pulous in your examination of those things
which another would consider unworthy to
be asked about, and want to know the whole
truth of this observance of ours and the secret
of it, you shall have a very clear reason for
this also, that you may still more plainly be
convinced that our prede'cessors taught no-
thing unreasonable. By the law of Moses the
command propounded to all the people gene-
i rally was this: " Thou shalt offer to the Lord
! thy God thy tithes and firstfruits." ^ And so,
while we are commanded to offer tithes of
our substance and all our fruits, it is much
more needful for us to offer tithes of our life
and ordinary employments and actions, which
certainly is clearly arranged for in the calcula-
tion of Lent. For the tithe of the number of
all the days included in the revolving circle of
the year is thirty-six days and a half. But
in seven weeks, if Sundays and Saturdays
are subtracted, there remain thirty-five days
assigned for fasting. But by the addition of
Easter Eve when the Saturday's fast is pro-
longed to the cock-crowing at the dawn of
Easter Day, not only is the number of thirty-
six days made up, but in regard to the tithe of
the five days which seemed to be over, if the
bit of the night which was added be taken into
account nothing will be wanting to the whole
sum.

CHAPTER XXVI.

How we ought also to offer our firstfruits to the Lord.

But what shall I say of the firstfruits which
surely are given daily by all who serve Christ

ties in the way of accepting the statement about the custom at
Rome (see below), but the great variety of customs is fully confirmed
by Sozomen (H. E. VII. xix.): " In some churches the time before
Easter, which is called Quadragesima, and is devoted by the people
to fasting, is made to consist of six weeks : and this is the case in
Illyria, and the western regions, in Libya, throughout Egypt, and in
Palestine : whereas it is made to comprise seven weeks at Constanti-
nople, and in the neighbouring provinces as far as Phoenicia. In
some churches the people fast three alternate weeks during' the
space of six or seven weeks ; whereas in others they fast continu-
ously during the three weeks immediately preceding the festival."
The statement here made with regard to the West is true except as
regards Milan, where Saturday was kept (as in the East) as a festi-
val : while for the Constantinopolitan practice Chrysostom (Horn. xi.
in Gen. § 2) confirms what Sozomen says : while Cassian's language
in the text bears witness to the fact that both Egypt and Palestine
agreed with the Roman practice. In either case, whether the fast
began seven or six weeks before Easter, the number of days ob-
served ill the fast was the same ; Saturdays (with the exception of
Easter Eve which was always regarded as a fast) being excluded in
the former case, while they were all included in the latter. Cf be-
low, c. xxvi. * Exod. xxii. 29.

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CASSIAN"S CONFERENCES.

faithfully? For when men waking from sleep
and arising with renewed activity after their
rest, before they take in any impulse or
thought in their heart, or admit any recol-
lection or consideration of business conse-
crate their first and earliest thoughts as
divine offerings, what are they doing indeed
but rendering the firstfruits of their produce
through the High Priest Jesus Christ for the
enjoyment of this life and a figure of the
daily resurrection? And also when roused
from sleep in the same way they offer to God
a sacrifice of joy and invoke Him with the
first motion of their tongue and celebrate His
name and praise, - and throwing open, the
first thing, the door of their lips to sing hymns
to Him they offer to God the offices of their
mouth; and to Him also in the same way
they bring the earliest oft'erings of their hands
and steps, when they rise from bed and stand
in prayer and before they use the services of
their limbs for their own purposes, take to
themselves nothing of their services, but for
His glory advance their steps, and set them
in. His praise and so render the first fruits of
all their movements by stretching forth the
hands, bending the knees, and prostrating the
w'hole body. For in no other way can we ful-
fil that of which we sing in the Psalm: ''I
prevented the dawning of the day and cried; "
and: '' Mine eyes to Thee have prevented the
morning that I might meditate on Thy
words;" and: "In the .morning shall my
prayer prevent Thee ; " ^ unless after our rest
in sleep when, as we said above, we are re-
stored as from darkness and death to this
light, we have the courage not to begin by
taking any of all the services both of mind
and body for our own uses. For there is
other morning which the prophet "prevented,
or which in the same way we ought to pre-
vent, except either ourselves, i.e., our occupa-
tions and feelings and earthly cares, without
which we cannot exist — or the most subtle
suggestions of the adversary, which he tries to
suggest to us, while still resting and overcome
with sleep, by the phantoms of vain dreams,
with which, when we presently awake, he will
fill our minds and occupy us, that he may be
the first to seize and carry oft" the spoils of our
firstfruits. Wherefore we must take the ut-
most care (if we w^ant to fulfil in act the mean-
ing of the above quoted verse) that an anxious
watchfulness takes regard of our first and
earliest morning thoughts, that they may not
be defiled beforehand being hastily taken
possession of by our jealous adversary, and
thus he may make our firstfruits to be rejected

' Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 148; Ixxxvii. (Ixxxviii.) 14.

by the Lord as worthless and common. And
if he is not prevented by us with watchful cir-
cumspection of mind, he will not lay aside his
habit of miserably anticipating us nor cease
day after day to prevent us by his wiles. And
therefore if we want to offer firstfruits that
are acceptable and well pleasing to God of the
fruits of our mind, we ought to spend no
ordinary care to keep all the senses of our
body, especially during the hours of the morn-
ing, as a sacred holocaust to the Lord pure and
undefiled in all things. And this kind of
devotion many even of those who live in the
world observe with the utmost care, as they
rise before it is light or very earh', and do not
at all mix in the ordinary and necessary busi-
ness of this world before hastening to church
and striving to consecrate in the sight of God
the firstfruits of all their actions and doings.

CHAPTER XXVn.

Why Lent is kept by very many with a different number of

days.

Further, as for what you say; viz., that in
some countries Lent is kept in different ways,
i.e., for six or seven weeks, it is but one sys-
tem and the same manner of the fast that is
preserved by the diff'erent observance of the
weeks. For those who think one ought to fast
also on the Saturday, have determined on the
observance of six weeks. They therefore fast
for six days out of the seven, and this being
six times repeated makes up the six and thirty
days. It is therefore, as we said, but one
system and the same manner of the fast, al-
though there seems to be a difference in the
number of the weeks.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Why it is called Ouadrajjesima, when the fast is only kept for
thirty-six days.

But further, as man's carelessness dropped
out of sight the reason of this, this season
when, as was said, the tithes of the year are
offered by fasts for thirty-six days and a half,
was called Quadragesima,- a name which per-

2 Cassian here gives three suggestions why the fast of tliirty-six
davs' duration was called Quadragesima, (i) As roughly corres-
ponding to the forty days fast of Moses, Elijah, and the Lord Him-
self; (2) because " forty " is the number associated with a time of
probation in Scripture ; and (3I because of the analogy of a legal
tribute of " Quadragesima " paid to the Sovereign. It is certainly
a curious and diflScult question why the name Quadragesima should
have been so universally applied to the fast, when tlure is no evi-
dence of its having been kept for forty days till sometime after the
date of Gregory the (Jreat, when Ash Wednesday and the three fol-
lowing days were prefixed to the six weeks expressly for the ]iurpose
of making up the number forty. The uavie however, had as we

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

515

haps they thought ought to be given to it for
this reason; viz., that it is said that Moses
and Elijah and our Lord Jesus Christ Himself
fasted for forty days. To the mystery of which
number are not unsuitably applied those forty
yeArs in which Israel dwelt in the wilderness,
and in like manner the forty stations which
they are said to have passed through with a
mystic meaning. Or perhaps the tithe was
properly given the name of Quadragesima
from the use of the custom-house. For so
that state tax is commonly called, from which
the same proportion of the increment is as-
signed for the king's use, as the legal tribute
of Quadragesima, which is required of us by
the King of all the ages for the use of our life.
At any rate, although this has nothing to do
with the question raised, yet I think that I
ought not to omit the fact that very often our
elders used to testify that especially on these
days the whole body of monks was attacked
according to the ancient custom of the people
opposed to them, and was more vehemently
urged to forsake their homes, for this reason,
because in accordance with this figure, whereby
the Egyptians formerly oppressed the children
of Israel with grievous afflictions, so now also
the spiritual Egyptians try to bow down the
true Israel, i.e., the monastic folk, wdth hard
and vile tasks, lest by means of that peace
which is dear to God, we should forsake the
land of Egypt, and for our good cross to the
desert of virtues, so that Pharaoh rages
against us and says : " They are idle and there-
fore they cry saying : Let us go and sacrifice to
the Lord our God. Let them be oppressed
with labours, and be harassed in their works,
and they shall not be harassed by vain words." ^
For certainly their folly imagines that the holy
sacrifice of the Lord, which is only offered in
the desert of a pure heart, is the height of
folly, for "religion is an abomination to a

sinner.

" 2

CHAPTER XXIX.

How those who are perfect go beyond the fixed rule of Lent.

By this law of Lent then the man who is
upright and perfect is not restrained nor is he
content with merely submitting to that paltry
rule which the heads of the church have estab-

see from Socrates, Sozomen, Cassiaii himself, and many other
writers, existed long before this; and on the whole it appears proba-
ble that it originated in none of the reasons given above by Cassian,
but that in the first instance it was connected " with the period dur-
ing which our Lord yielded to the power of death, which was
estimated -AX forty hours ; viz., from noon on Friday till 4 a.m. on
Sunday." See Dictionan.' of Christian Antiquities, Vol. ii. p. 973 ;
and cf . Irenaeus Ep. ad Victor, in Euseb. V^. xxiv. ; and Tertullian
De Oral. c. 18; and De Jejuniis c. ii. and xiii.

1 Exod. V. S, 9. 2 Ecclus. 1. 24.

lished for those who all the year round are
involved in pleasure or business, that they
may be bound by this legal requirement and
forced at any rate during these clays to find
time for the Lord, and dedicate to Him the
tithe of the days of their life, all of which
they would have consumed as their profits.
But the righteous, for whom the law is not
appointed, and who devote to spiritual duties
not a small part; viz., the tenth, but the whole
time of their life, because they are free from
the burden of tithes according to law, for this
reason, if any worthy and pious occasion hap-
pening to them constrains them, are ready to
relax their station fast^ without any hesita-
tion. For in their case it is no paltry tithe
that is diminished, as they offer all that
they have to the Lord equally with themselves.
And this certainly a man could not do without
being guilty of a grievous wrong, who, offer-
ing nothing of his own free will to God, is
forced to pay his tithes by the stern compul-
sion of the law which takes no excuse.
Wherefore it is clearly established that the
servant of the law cannot be perfect, who only
shuns those things which are forbidden and
does those things which are commanded, but
that those are really perfect who do not take
advantage even of those things which the law
allows. And in this way, though it is said of
the Mosaic law that "the law brought nothing
to perfection," ^ we read that some of the
saints in the Old Testament were perfect
because they went beyond the commands of
the law and lived under the perfection of the
Gospel : " Knowing that the law is not ap-
pointed for the righteous but for the un-
righteous and disobedient, for the ungodly and
sinners, for the wicked and defiled, etc."^

CHAPTER XXX.

Of the origin and beginning of Lent.

HowBEiT you should know that as long as
the primitive church retained its perfection
unbroken, this observance of Lent did not
exist. For they were not bound by the re-
quirements of this order, or by any legal
enactments, nor confined in the very narrow
limits of the fast, as the fast embraced equally
the whole year round. But when the multi-
tude of believers began day by day to decline
from that apostolic fervour, and to look after
their own wealth, and not to portion it out for
the £:ood of all the faithful in accordance with

3 Statio. Cf Note on the Institutes V. xxiv.
* Heb. vii. 19. •* i Tim. i. g, 10.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

the arrangement of the apostles, but having
an eye to their own private expenses, tried
not only to keep it but actually to increase
it, not content with following the example of
Ananias and Sapphira, then it seemed good
to all the priests that men who were hampered
by worldly cares, and almost ignorant, if I
may say so, of abstinence and contrition,
should be recalled to the pious duty by a fast
canonically enjoined, and be constrained b)'
the necessity of pa3'ing the legal tithes, as this
certainly would be good for the weak brethren
and could not do any harm to the perfect who
were living under the grace of the gospel and
by their voluntary devotion going beyond the
law, so as to succeed in attaining to the
blessedness which the Apostle speaks of:
" For sin shall not have dominion over 5^ou ;
for ye are not under the law but under
grace." ^ For of a truth sin cannot exercise
dominion over one who lives faithfully under
the liberty of grace.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A question, how we oiic:;ht to understand the Apostle's words :
" Sin shall not have dominion over you."

Germanus : Because this saying of the
Apostle, which promises freedom from care
not only to monks but to all Christians in
general, cannot lead us wrong, it seems to us
somewhat obscure. For whereas he maintains
that all those who believe the gospel are at
liberty and free from the yoke and dominion
of sin, how is it that the dominion of sin holds
vigorous sway over almost all the baptized,
in accordance with the Lord's words, where
He says: "Every one that doeth sin is the
servant of sin " } '

CHAPTER XXXn.

The answer on the difference between grace and the commands
of the law.

Theonas: Your inquiry once more raises
before us a question of no small extent. The
explanation of which though I know that it
cannot be taught to or understood by the in-
experienced, yet as far as I can, I will try to
set forth in words and briefly to explain, if
only your minds will follow up and act upon
what we say. P"or whatever is known not by
teaching but by experience, just as it cannot
be taught by one without experience, so neither
can it be grasped or taken in by the mind of

1 Rom. vi. 14.

^ S. John viii. 34.

one who has not laid the foundation by a
similar study and training. And therefore I
think it necessary for us first to inquire some-
what carefully what is the purpose or mean-
ing of the law, and what is the system and
perfection of grace, that from this we may
succeed in understanding the dominion of sin
and how to drive it out. And so the law
chiefly commands men to seek the bonds of
wedlock, saying: "Blessed is he that hath
seed in Sion and an household in Jerusalem ; " ^
and : " Cursed is the barren that hath not
borne."* On the other hand grace invites us
to the purity of perpetual chastity, and the
undefiled state of blessed virginity, saying:
" Blessed are the barren, and the breasts which
have not given suck;" and: "he that hateth
not father and mother and wife cannot be my
disciple;" and this of the Apostle: "It re-
maineth that they that have wives be as

j though they had them not."^ The law says:
" Thou shalt not delay to offer thy tithes and

i firstfruits ;" grace says: "If thou wilt be
perfect, go and sell all that thou hast and

I give to the poor." ® The law forbids not re-
taliation for wrongs and vengeance for inju-
ries, saying: "An eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth." Grace would have our patience
proved by the injuries and blows offered to
us being redoubled, and bids us be ready to
endure twice as much damage; saying: "If a
man strike thee on one cheek, oiler him the
other also; and to him who will contend with
thee at the law and take away thy coat, give
him thy cloak also."'' The one decrees that
we should hate our enemies, the other that we
should love them so that it holds that even for
them we ought always to pray to God.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Of the fact that the precepts of the gospel arc milder than
those of the law.

Whoever therefore climbs this height of
evangelical perfection, is at once raised by
the merits of such virtue above every law, and
disregarding as trivial all that is commanded
by Moses, recognizes that he is only subject
to the grace of the Saviour, by whose aid he
knows that he attained to that most exalted
condition. Therefore sin has no dominion
over him, "because the love of God, which
is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy
Ghost which is given to us,"^ shuts out all

' Isa xxxi. q dxx.'). 4 Cf. Job xxiv. 21.

^ .S. Luke xxiii. 29; xiv. 26; i Cor. vii. 29.

" Kxod. xxii. 29; S. Matt. xix. 2r.

' Exod. xxi. 24; S. Matt. v. 39, 40. 8 Rom. v. 5.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

517

care for everything else, and can neither
desire what is forbidden, or disregard what is
commanded, as its whole aim and all its
desire is ever fixed on divine love, and to
such an extent is it not caught by the delights
of worthless things, that it actually does not
take advantage of those things which are per-
mitted. But under the law, where lawful
marriages are observed, although the rovings
of wantonness are restrained, and bound down
to one woman alone, yet the pricks of car-
nal lust cannot help being vigorous; and
it is hard for the fire, for which fuel is ex-
pressly supplied, to be thus shut in within pre-
arranged limits, so as not to spread further
and burn up anything it touches. As even if
this objection occurs to it that it is not al-
lowed to be kiiuUed beyond these limits, yet
even while it is kept in check, it is on fire
because the will itself is in fault, and its habit
of carnal intercourse hurries it into too speedy
excesses of adultery. But those whom the
grace of the Saviour has fired with the holy
love of chastity, so consume all the thorns
of carnal desires in the fire of the Lord's love,
that no dying embers of sin interfere with the
coldness of their purity. The servants of
the law then from the use of lawful things
fall away to unlawful ; the partakers of grace
while they disregard lawful things know no-
thing of unlawful ones. But as sin is alive
in one who loves marriage, so is it also
in one who is satisfied with merely paying
his tithes and firstfruits. For, while he is
dawdling or careless, he is sure to sin in re-
gard to either their quality or quantity, or the
daily distribution of them. For as he is
commanded unweariedly to minister to those
in want of what is his, although he may dis-
pense it with the fullest faith and devotion,
yet it is hard for him not to fall often into
the snares of sin. But over those who have
not set at naught the counsel of the Lord, but
who, disposing of all their property to the
poor, take up their cross and follow the be-
stower of grace, sin can have no dominion.
For no faithless anxiety for getting food will
annoy him who piously distributes and dis-
perses his wealth already consecrated to Christ
and no longer regarded as his own; nor will
any grudging hesitation take away from the
cheerfulness of his almsgiving, because with-
out any thought of his own needs or fear of
his own food running short he is distributing
what has once for all been completely offered
to God, and is no longer regarded as his own,
as he is sure that when he has succeeded in
stripping himself as he desires, he will be fed
by God much more than the birds of the air.
On the* other hand he who retains his goods

of this world, or, bound by the rules of the
old law, distributes the tithe of his produce,
and his firstfruits, or a portion of his income,
although he may to a considerable degree
quench the fire of his sins by this dew of
almsgiving, yet, however generously he gives
away his wealth, it is impossible for him
altogether to rid himself of the dominion of
sin, unless perhaps by the grace of the Saviour,
together with his substance he gets rid of all
love of possessing. In the same way he can-
not fail to be subject to the bloody sway of
sin, whoever chooses to pull out, as the law
commands, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a
tooth, or to hate his enemy, for while he
desires by retaliation in exchange to avenge
an injury done to himself, and while he che-
rishes bitter hatred against an enemy, he is
sure always to be inflamed with the passion
of anger and rage. But whoever lives under
the light of the grace of the gospel, and over-
comes evil by not resisting it, but by bearing
it, and does not hesitate of his own free will
to give to one w^ho smites his right cheek, the
other also, and to one who wants to raise a
lawsuit against him for his coat, gives his
cloak also, and who loves his enemies, and
prays for those who slander him, this man has
broken the yoke of sin and burst its chains.
For he is not living under the law, which does
not destroy the seeds of sin (whence not with-
out reason the Apostle says of it: "There is
a setting aside of the former commandment
because of the weakness and unprofitableness
thereof: for the law brought nothing to perfec-
tion ; " and the Lord says by the prophet :
" And I gave them commands that were not
good, and ordinances, whereby they could
not live"-^), but under grace which does not
merely lop off the boughs of wickedness, but
actually tears up the very roots of an evil
will.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

How a man can be shown to be under grace.

Whoever then strives to reach the perfec-
tion of evangelical teaching, this man living
under grace is not oppressed by the dominion
of sin, for to be under grace is to do those
things which grace commands. But whoever
will not submit himself to the complete re-
quirements of evangelical perfection, must not
remain ignorant that, although he seems to be
baptized and to be a monk, yet he is not under
grace, but is still shackled by the chains of
the law, and weighed down by the burden of
sin. For it is the aim of Him, who by the

1 Heb. vii. iS, 19; Ezek. xx. 25.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

grace of adoption accepts all those by whom
He has been received, not to destroy but to
build upon, not to abolish but to fulfil the
Mosaic requirements. But some knowing
nothing about this, and disregarding the splen-
did counsels and exhortations of Christ, are so
emancipated by the carelessness of a freedom
too hastily assumed, that they not only fail to
carry out the commands of Christ as if they
were too hard, but actually scorn as anti-
quated, the commands given to them as begin-
ners and children by the law of Moses, saying
in this dangerous freedom of theirs that which
the Apostle execrates: "We have sinned,
because we are not under the law but under
grace." ^ He then who is neither under grace,
because he has never climbed the heights of
the Lord's teaching, nor under the law, be-
cause he has not accepted even those small
commands of the law, this man, ground down
beneath a twofold rule of sin, fancies that he
has received the grace of Christ, simply and
solely for this, that by this dangerous liberty
of his he may make himself none of His, and
falls into that state, which the Apostle Peter
warns us to avoid, saying: "Act as free, and
not having your liberty as a cloak of wicked-
ness." The blessed Apostle Paul also says:
"For ye, brethren, were called to liberty," i.e.,
that ye might be free from the dominion of
sin, "only use not your liberty for an occasion
of the flesh," ^ i.e., believe that the doing
away with the commands of the law is a
licence to sin. But this liberty, the Apostle
Paul teaches us is nowhere but where the Lord
is dwelling, for he says: "The Lord is the
Spirit, but where the Spirit of the Lord is
there is liberty."^ Wherefore I know not
whether I could express and explain the
meaning of the blessed Apostle, as those know
how, who have experience ; one thing I- do
know, that it is very clearly revealed even
without anyone's explanation to all those who
have perfectly acquired noitxiixfi, i.e., practi-
cal training. For they will need no effort to
understand in discussion what they have
already learnt by practice.

CHAPTER XXXV.

A question, why sometimes when we are fasting more strictly
than usual, we are troubled by carnal desires more keenly
than usual.

Germanus : You have very clearly explained
a most difficult question, and one which, as
we think, is unknown to many. Wherefore
we pray you to add this also for our good, and

1 Rom.

Pet. ii. i6; Gal. v. 13. •* 2 Cor. iii. 17.

carefully to expound why sometimes when we
are fasting more strictly than usual, and are
exhausted and worn out, severer bodily strug-
gles are excited. For often on waking from
sleep, when we have discovered that we have
been defiled* we are so dejected in heart that
we do not even venture faithfully to rise even
for prayer.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

The answer, telling that this question should be reserved for a
future Conference.

Theonas : Your zeal indeed, whereby you
desire to reach the way of perfection, not for
a moment only but fully and perfectly, urges
us to continue this discussion unweariedly.
For you are anxiously inquiring not about
external chastity or outward circumcision, but
about that which is secret, as you know that
complete perfection does not consist in this
visible continence of the flesh which can be
attained either by constraint, or by hypocrisy
even by unbelievers, but in that voluntary and
invisible purity of heart, which the blessed
Apostle describes as follows: " For he is not
a Jew which is so outwardly, nor is that cir-
cumcision which is outward in the flesh, but
he is a Jew which is one inwardly, and the cir-
cumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit r ot
in the letter, whose praise is not of men but
of God, " ^ who alone searches the secrets of the
heart. But because it is not possible for your
wish to be fully satisfied (as the short space of
the night that is left is not enough for the in-
vestigation of this most difficult question,)
I think it well to postpone it for a while. For
these matters, as they should be propounded
by us quietly and with an heart entirely free
from all bustling thoughts, so should they be
received into your minds; for just as the in-'
quiry ought to be undertaken for the sake of
our common purity, so they cannot be learnt
or acquired by one who is without the gift of
uprightness. For we do not ask what argu-
ments of empty words, but what the inward
faith of the conscience and the greater force
of truth can persuade. And therefore with
regard to the knowledge and teaching of this
purification nothing can be brought forward
except by one who has had experience of it,
nor can anything be committed except to one
who is a most eager and very earnest lover of
the truth itself, who does not hope to attain it
by asking questions with mere vain words, but
by striving with all his might and main, with
no wish for useless chattering but with the
desire to purify himself internally.

* Cum deiirehenderimus nos sordidi liquoris contagius pertulisse.
5 Rom. ii. 2S, 29. •

SECOND AND THIRD CONFERENCES OF ABBOT TIIEONAS. 519

XXII.

THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

ON NOCTURNAL ILLUSIONS.
This Conference is omitted.

XXIII.
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

ON SINLESSNESS.

CHAPTER I.

Discourse of Abbot Theonas on the Apostle's words : " For I
do not the good which I would."

At the return of light therefore, as the old
man was forced by our intense urgency to in-
vestigate the depths of the Apostle's subject,
he spoke as follows : As for the passages by
which you try to prove that the Apostle Paul
spoke not in his own person but in that of
sinners : " For I do not the good that I would,
but the evil which I hate, that I do;" or
this : " But if I do that which I would not, it
is no longer I that do it but sin that dwelleth
in me;" or what follows: "For I delight in
the law of God after the inner man, but I see
another law in my members opposing the law
of my mind, and bringing me into captivity
to the law of sin which is in my members; " -^
these passages on the contrary plainly show
that they cannot possibly fit the person of
sinners, but that what is said can only apply
to those that are perfect, and that it only suits
the chastity of those who follow the good
example of the Apostles. Else how could
these words apply to the person of sinners:
"For I do not the good which I would, but
the evil which I hate that I do"? or even
this: "But if I do what I would not it is no
longer I that do it but sin that dwelleth in
me " ? For what sinner defiles himself unwil-

1 Rom. vii. iS, sq.

lingly by adulteries and fornication? Who
against his will prepares plots against his
neighbour? Who is driven by unavoidable
necessity to oppress a man by false witness or
cheat him by theft, or covet the goods of
another or shed his blood? Nay rather, as
Scripture says, " Mankind is diligently in-
clined to wickedness from his youth."" For
to such an extent are all inflamed by the love
of sin and desire to carry out what they like,
that they actually look out with watchful care
for an opportunity of committing wickedness
and are afraid of being too slow to enjoy
their lusts, and glory in their shame and the
mass of their crimes, as the Apostle says in
censure,^ and seek credit for themselves out
of their own confusion, of whom also the
prophet Jeremiah maintains that they commit
their flagitious crimes not only not unwil-
lingly nor with ease of heart and body, but
with laborious efforts to such an extent that
they come to toil to carry them out, so that
they are prevented even by the hindrance of
arduous difficulty from their deadly quest of
sin ; as he says : " They have laboured to do
wickedly."* Who also will say that this
applies to sinners: "And so with the mind I
myself serve the law of God, but with the
flesh the law of sin," as it is plain that they
serve God neither with the mind nor the
flesh? Or how can those who sin with the
body serve God with the mind, when the flesh

' Gen. viii. 21.

3 Cf. Phil. iii. 19.

* Jer. ix. 5.

520

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

receives the incitement to sin from the heart,
and the Creator of either nature Himself de-
clares that the fount and spring of sin flows
from the latter, saying : '" From the heart pro-
ceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications,
thefts, false witness, etc."^ Wherefore it is
clearly shown that this cannot in any way be
taken of the person of sinners, who not only
do not hate, but actually love what is evil and
are so far from serving God with either the
mind or the flesh that they sin with the mind
before they do with the flesh, and before they
carry out the pleasures of the body are over-
come by sin in their mind and thoughts.

CHAPTER n.

How the Apostle completed many good actions.

It remains therefore for us to measure its
meaning and drift from the inmost feelings of
the speaker, and to discuss what the blessed
Apostle called good, and what he pronounced
by comparison evil, not by the bare meaning
of the words, but with the same insight which
he showed, and to investigate his meaning
with due regard to the worth and goodness of
the speaker. For then we shall be able to
understand the words, which were uttered by
God's inspiration, in accordance with his pur-
pose and wish, when we weigh the position
and character of those by whom they were
spoken, and are ourselves clothed with the
same feelings (not in words but by experi-
ence), in accordance with the character of
which most certainly all the thoughts are
conceived and opinions uttered. Wherefore
let us carefully consider what was in the main
that good which the Apostle could not do
when he would. For we know that there are
many good things which we cannot deny that
the blessed Apostle and all men as good as
he either have by nature, or acquire by grace.
For chastity is good, continence is praise-
worthy, prudence is to be admired, kindness
is liberal, sobriety is careful, temperance is
modest, pity is kind, justice is holy: all of
which we cannot doubt existed fully and in
perfection in the Apostle Paul and his com-
panions, so that they taught religion by the
lesson of their virtues rather than their words.
What if they were always consumed with the
constant care of all the churches and watchful
anxiety? How great a good is this pity, what
perfection it is to burn for them that are
offended, to be weak with the weak! ^ If then
the Apostle abounded with such good things,
we cannot recognize what that good was, in

■ S. Matt. XV. ig.

' Cf. 2 Cor. xi. 29.

the perfection of which the Apostle was lack-
ing, unless we have advanced to that state of
mind in which he was speaking. And so all
those virtues which we say that he possessed,
though they are like most splendid and pre-
cious gems, yet when they are compared with
that most beautiful and unique pearl which
the merchant in the gospel sought and wanted
to acquire by selling all that he possessed,
so does their value seem poor and trifling, so
that if they are without hesitation got rid of,
the possession of one good thing alone will
enrich the man who sells countless good
things.

CHAPTER III.

What is really the good which the Apostle testifies that he
could not perform.

What then is that one thing which is so
incomparably above those great and innu-
merable good things, that, while they are
all scorned and rejected, it alone should be
acquired .■* Doubtless it is that truly good
part, the grand and lasting character of which
is thus described by the Lord, when Mary
disregarded the duties of hospitality and
courtesy and chose it: '"Martha, Martha,
thou art careful and troubled about many
things: but there is but need of but few things
or even of one only. Mary hath chosen the
good part which shall not be taken away from
her."^ Contemplation then, i.e., meditation
on God, is the one thing, the value of which
all the merits of our righteous acts, all our
aims at virtue, come short of. And all those
things which we said existed in the Apostle
Paul, were not only good and useful, but even
great and splendid. But as, for example, the
metal of alloy which is considered of some
use and worth, becomes worthless when silver
is taken into account, and again the value of
silver disappears in comparison with gold,
and gold itself is disregarded when compared
with precious stones, and yet a quantity of
precious stones however splendid are outdone
by the brightness of a single pearl, so all
those merits of holiness, although they are not
merely good and useful for the present life,
but also secure the gift of eternity, yet if they
are compared with the merit of Divine con-
templation, will be considered trifling and so
to speak, fit to be sold. And to support this
illustration by the authority of Scripture, does
not Scripture declare of all things in general
which were created by God, and say: "And
behold everything that God had made was
very good;" and again: "And things that

2 S. Luke X. 41, 42. Cf. the note on I. viii.

THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

521

God hath made are all good in their season " ? ^
These things then which in the present time
are termed not simply and solely good, but
emphatically "very good"' ffor they are really
convenient for us while living in this world,
either for purposes of life, or for remedies for
the body, or by reason of some unknown use-
fulness, or else they are indeed "very good,"
because they enable us "to see the invisible
things of God from the creatures of the world,
being understood by the things that are made,
even His eternal power and Godhead," - from
this great and orderly arrangement of the
fabric of the world; and to contemplate them
from the existence of everything in it), yet
none of these things will keep the name of
good if they are regarded in the light of that
world to come, where no variation of good
things, and no loss of true blessedness need
be feared. The bliss of which world is thus
described: "The light of the moon shall be
as the light of the sun, and the light of the
sun shall be sevenfold as the light of seven
days."^ These things then which are great
and wondrous to be gazed on, and marvellous,
will at once appear as vanity if they are com-
pared with the future promises from faith; as
David says: "They all shall wax old as a gar-
ment, and as a vesture shall Thou change
them, and they shall be changed. But Thou
art the same, and Thy years shall not fail."^
Because then there is nothing of itself endur-
ing, nothing unchangeable, nothing good but
Deity alone, while every creature, to obtain
the blessing of eternity and immutability, aims
at this not by its own nature but by participa-
tion of its Creator, and His grace, they cannot
maintain their character for goodness when
compared with their Creator.

CHAPTER IV.

How man's goodness and righteousness are not good if
compared with the goodness and righteousness of God.

But if we want also to establish the force
of this opinion by still clearer proofs, is it
not the case that while we read of many things
as called good in the gospel, as a good tree,
and good treasure, and a good man, and a
good servant, for He says : " A good tree can-
not bring forth evil fruit ; " and : " a good man
out of the good treasure of his heart brings
forth good things;" and: "Well done, good
and faithful servant ; " ^ and certainly there can
be no doubt that none of these are good in
themselves, yet if we take into consideration
the goodness of God, none of them will be

' Gen. i. 31; Ecclus. xxxix. 16.

2 Rom. i. 20.

^ S. Matt. vii. 18; xii. 35; xxv.

^ Isa. XXX. 26.

* Ps. ci. (cii.) 27, 28.

called good, as the Lord says: " None is good
save God alone" ? ^ In whose sight even the
apostles themselves, who in the excellence of
their calling in many ways w'ent beyond the
goodness of mankind, are said to be evil, as
the Lord thus speaks to them : " If ye then
being evil know how to give good gifts to
your children, how much more shall your
Father which is in heaven give gccd things to
them that ask llim.'"^ Finally as our good-
ness turns to badness in the eyes of the H igh-
est so also our righteousness when set against
the Divine righteousness is considered like a
menstruous cloth, as Isaiah the prophet says:
"All your righteousness is like a menstruous
cloth."* And to produce something still
plainer, even the vital precepts of the law
itself, which are said to have been "given by
angels by the the hand of a mediator," and
of which the same Apostle says : " So the law
indeed is holy and the commandment is holy
and just and good," ^ when they are compared
with the perfection of the gospel are pro-
nounced anything but good by the Divine
oracle: for He says: "And I gave them pre-
cepts that were not good, and ordinances
whereby they should not live in them." " The
Apostle also affirms that the glory of the law
is so dimmed by the light of the New Testa-
ment that he declares that in comparison with
the splendour of the gospel it is not to be
considered glorious, saying : " For even that
which was glorious was not glorified by reason
of the glory that excelleth." " And Scripture
keeps up this comparison on the other side
also, i.e., in weighing the merits of sinners,
so that in comparison with the wicked it justi-
fies those who have sinned less, saying:
"Sodom is justified above thee;" and again:
•'For what hath thy sister Sodom sinned?"
and: "The rebellious Israel hath justified her
soul in comparison of the treacherous Judah." ^^
So then the merits of all the virtues, which I
enumerated above, though in themselves they
are good and precious, yet become dim in
comparison of the brightness of contempla-
tion. For they greatly hinder and retard the
saints who are taken up with earthly aims
even at good works, from the contemplation
of that sublime good.

CHAPTER V.

How no one can be continually intent upon that highest good.

For who, when "delivering the poor from
the hand of them that are too strong for him,

^ S. Luke xviii. 19. " Gal. iii. 19; Rom. vii. 12.

' S. Matt. vii. II. '" Ezek. xx. 25.

" Isa. Ixiv. 6. " 2 Cor. iii. 10.

'^ Ezek. xvi. 52, 49; Jer. iii. 11.

522

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

and the needy and the poor from them that
strip him," who when '"breaking the jaws of
the wicked and snatching their prey from be-
tween their teeth,'*' ^ can with a cahn mind
regard the glory of the Divine Majesty during
the actual work of intervention? Who when
ministering support to the poor, or when re-
ceiving w^ith benevolent kindness the crowds
that come to him, can at the very moment
when he is with anxious mind perplexed for
the wants of his brethren, contemplate the
vastness of the bliss on high, and while he is
shaken by the troubles and cares of the pres-
ent life look forward to the state of the world
to come with an heart raised above the stains
of earth? \Mience the blessed David when
laying down that this alone is good for man,
longs to cling constantly to God, and says:
" It is good for me to cling to God, and to put
my hope in the Lord." - And Ecclesiastes
also declares that this cannot be done without
fault by any of the saints, and says : " For there
is not a righteous man upon earth, that doeth
good and sinneth not." ^ For who, even if he
be the chief of all righteous and holy men, can
we ever think could, while bound in the chains
of this life, so acquire this chief good, as never
to cease from divine contemplation, or be
thought to be drawn away by earthly thoughts
even for a short time from Him Who alone
is good? Who ever takes no care for food,
none for clothing or other carnal things, or
when anxious about receiving the brethren, or
change of place, or building his cell, has
never desired the aid of man's assistance,
nor when harassed by scarcity and want has
incurred this sentence of reproof from the
Lord: "Be not anxious for your life what ye
shall eat, nor for your body what ye shall put
on " ? * Further we confidently assert that
even the Apostle Paul himself who surpassed
in the number of his sufferings the toils of all
the saints, could not possibly fulfil this, as he
himself testifies to the disciples in the Acts
of the Apostles : " Ye yourselves know that
these hands have ministered to my needs, and
to the needs of those who were with me," or
when in writing in the Thessalonians he
testifies that he '"worked in labour and weari-
ness night and day."^ And although for
this there were great rewards for his merits
prepared, yet his mind, however holy and
sublime it might be, could not help being
sometimes drawn away from that heavenly
contemplation by its attention to earthly
labours. Further, when he saw himself en-
riched with such practical fruits, and on the

' Ps. xxxiv. (xxxv.) lo; Job xxix. 17. * S. Matt. vi. 23.

= Ps. Ixxii. (Ixxiii.) 28. '^ Acts xx. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 8.

'■ Keel. vii. 21.

Other hand considered in his heart the good
of meditation, and weighed as it were in one
scale the profit of all these labours and in the
other the delights of divine contemplation,
when for a long time he had corrected the
balance in his breast, while the vast rewards
for his labours delighted him on one side,
and on the other the desire for unity with and
the inseparable companionship of Christ in-
clined him to depart this life, at last in his
perplexity he cries out and says : " \M"iat I
shall choose I know not. For I am in a strait
betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to
be with Christ, for it were much better: but
to abide in the flesh is more necessary for
your sakes.*'" Though then in many ways he
preferred this excellent good to all the fruits
of his preaching, yet he submits himself in
consideration of love, without which none can
gain the Lord; and for their sakes, whom
hitherto he had soothed with milk as nourish-
ment from the breasts of the gospel, does not
refuse to be parted from Christ, which is bad
for himself though useful for others. For he
is driven to choose this the rather by that
excessive goodness of his whereby for the sal-
vation of his brethren he is readv, were it
possible, to incur even the last evil of an
Anathema. "For I could wish," he says,
■"that 1 myself were Anathema from Christ for
my brethren's sake, who are my kinsmen ac-
cording to the flesh, who are Israelites,"'' i.e.,
I could wish to be subject not only to tem-
poral, but even to perpetual punishment, if
only all men, were it possible, might enjoy
the fellowship of Christ: for I am sure that
the salvation of all would be better for Christ
and for me than my own. That then the Apostle
might perfectly gain this chief good, i.e., to
enjoy the vision of God and to be joined con-
tinually to Christ, he was ready to be parted
from this body, which as it is feeble and hin-
dered by the many requirements of its frailties
cannot help separating from union with Christ:
for it is impossible for the mind, that is ha-
rassed by such frequent cares, and hampered
by such various and tiresome troubles, always
to enjoy the Divine vision. For what aim of
the saints can be so persistent, what purpose
can be so high that that crafty plotter does
not sometimes destrov it ? Who has fre-
quented the recesses of the desert and shunned
intercourse with all men in such a way that
he never trips by unnecessary thoughts, and
by looking on things or being occupied in
earthly actions falls away from that contem-
plation of God, which truly alone is good?
Who ever could preserve such fervour of spirit

Phil, i, 22-24.

' Rom. ix. 3, 4.

THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

523

as not sometimes to pass by roving thoughts
from his attention to prayer, and fall away
suddenly from heavenly to earthly things?
Which of us (to pass over other times of wan-
dering) even at the very moment when he
raises his soul in prayer to Go^ on high, does
not fall into a sort of stupor, and even against
his will offend by that very thing from which
he hoped for pardon of his sins? Who, I ask,
is so alert and vigilant as never, while he is
sincring a Psalm to God, to allow his mind to
wander from the meaning of Scripture? Who
is so intimate with and closely joined to God,
as to congratulate himself on having carried
out for a single day that rule of the Apostle's,
whereby he bids us pray without ceasing? ^
And though all these things may seem to
some, who are involved in grosser sins, to be
trivial and altogether foreign to sin, yet to
those who know the value of perfection a
quantity even of very small matters becomes
most serious.

CHAPTER VI.

How those who think that they are without sin are likepurbhnd

people.

As if we were to suppose that two men, one
of whom was clear sighted with perfect vision,
and the other, one whose eyesight was ob-
scured by dimness of vision, had together
entered some great house that was tilled with a
quantity of bundles, instruments, and vessels,
would not he, whose dullness of vision pre-
vented his seeing everything, assert that there
was nothing there but chests, beds, benches,
tables, and whatever met the fingers of one
who felt them rather than the eyes of one who
saw them, while on the other hand would not
the other, who searched out what was hidden
with clear and bright eyes, declare that there
were there many most minute articles, and
what could scarcely be counted ; which if they
were ever gathered up into a single pile,
would by their number equal or perhaps ex-
ceed the size of those few things which the
other had felt. So then even saints, and, if
we may so say, men who see, whose aim is the
utmost perfection, cleverly detect in them-
selves even those things which the gaze of our
mind being as' it were darkened cannot see,
and condemn them ver}' severely, to such an ex-
tent that those who have not, as it seems to our
carelessness, dimmed the whiteness of their
body, which is as it were like snow, with even
the slightest spot of sin, seem to themselves
to be covered with many stains, if, I will not

1 Cf. I Thess. V. 17.

say any evil or vain thoughts creep into the
doors of their mind, but even the recollection
of a Psalm which has to be said takes off the
attention of the kneeler at the time for prayer.
For if, say they, when we ask some great man,
I will not say for our life and salvation, but
for some advantage and profit, we fasten all
our attention of mind and body upon him, and
hang with trembling expectation on his nod,
with no slight dread lest haply some foolish
or unsuitable word may turn aside the pity of
our hearer, and then too, when we are stand-
ing in the forum or in the courts of earthly
judges, with our opponent standing over
against us, if in the midst of the prosecution
and trial any coughing, or spitting, or laugh-
ing, or yawning, or sleep overtakes us, with
what malice will our ever watchful opponent
stir up the severity of the judge to our damage :
how much more, when we entreat Him who
knows all secrets, should we, by reason of our
imminent danger of everlasting death, plead
with earnest and anxious prayer for the kind-
ness of the judge, especially as on the other
side there stands one who is both our crafty
seducer and our accuser! And not without
reason will he be bound by no light sin, but
by a grievous fault of wickedness, who, when
he pours forth his prayer to God, departs at
once from His sight as if from the eyes of one
who neither sees nor hears, and follows the
vanity of wicked thoughts. But they who
cover the eyes of their heart with a thick veil
of their sins, and as the Saviour says, " See-
ing see not and hearing hear not nor under-
stand,"- hardly regard in the inmost recesses
of their breast even those faults which are
great and deadly, and cannot with clear eyes
look at any deceitful thoughts, nor even those
vague and secret desires which strike the
mind with slight and subtle suggestions, nor
the captivities of their soul, but always wan-
dering among impure thoughts they know not
how to be sorry when they are distracted from
that meditation which is so special, nor can
they grieve that they have lost anything as
while they lay open their mind to the entrance
of any thought as they please, they have no-
thing set before them to hold to as the main
thing or to desire in every way.

CHAPTER Vn.

How those wlio maintain that a man can be without sin are
charged with a twofold error.

The reason however which drives us into
this error is that, as we are utterly ignorant

2 S. Matt. xiii. 13.

524

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of the virtue of being without sin,^ we fancy
that we cannot contract any guilt from those
idle and random vagaries of our thoughts, but
being rendered stupid by dullness and as it were
smitten with blindness we can see nothing in
ourselves but capital offences, and think that
we have only to keep clear of those things
which are condemned also by the severity of
secular laws, and if we find that even for a
short time we are free from these we at once
imagine that there is no sin at all in us.
Accordingly we are distinguished from the
number of those who see, because we do not
see the many small stains, which are crowded
together in us, and are not smitten with sav-
ing contrition, if the malady of vexation over-
takes our thoughts, nor are we sorry that we
are struck by the suggestions of vainglory,
nor do we weep over our prayers offered up so
tardily and coldly, nor consider it a fault if
while we are singing or praying, something
else besides the actual prayer or Psalm fills
our thoughts, nor are we horrified because we
do not blush to conceive many things which
we are ashamed to speak or do before men, in
our heart, which, as we know, lies open to the
Divine gaze; nor do we purge away the pollu-
tion of filthy dreams with copious ablutions of
our tears, nor grieve that in the pious act of
almsgiving when we are assisting the needs
of tli2 brethren, or ministering support to the
poor, the brightness of our cheerfulness is
clouded over by a stingy delay, nor do we
think that we are affected by any loss when
we forget God and think about things that are
temporal and corrupt, so that these words of
Solomon fairly apply to us: "They smite me
but I have not grieved, and they have mocked
me, but I knew it not." ^

CHAPTER VIII.

How it is given to but few to understand what sin is.

Those on the other hand who make the
sum of all their joy and delight and bliss con-
sist in the contemplation of divine and spir-
itual tlnngs alone, if they are unwillingly
withdrawn from them even for a short time
by thoughts that force themselves upon them,
punish this as if it were a kind of sacrilege in
them, and avenge it by immediate chastise-
ment, and in their grief that they have pre-
ferred some worthless creature (to which their
mental gaze was turned aside) to their Cre-
ator, charge themselves with the guilt (I had
almost saidj of impiety, and although they turn

' Anamarteti id est intpeccania.

Prov. xxiii. 35.

the eyes of their heart with the utmost speed
to behold the brightness of the Divine Glory,
yet they cannot tolerate even for a very short
time the darkness of carnal thoughts, and ex-
ecrate whatever keeps back their soul's gaze
from the true light. Finally when the blessed
Apostle John would instill this feeling into
everybody he says: "Little children, love not
the world, neither the things which are in the
world. If any man love the world, the love
of God is not in him: for everything that is
in the world is the lust of the flesh and the
lust of the eyes and the pride of life, which is
not of the Father but of the world. And the
world perisheth and the lust thereof : but he
that doeth the will of God abideth forever."^
The saints therefore scorn all those things on
which the world exists, but' it is impossible for
them never to be carried away to them by a
brief aberration of thoughts, and even now no
man, except our Lord and Saviour, can keep
his naturally wandering mind always fixed on
the contemplation of God so as never to be
carried away from it through the love of some-
thing in this world; as Scripture says: "Even
the stars are not clean in His sight," and
again: "If He puts no trust in His saints,
and findeth iniquity in His angels," or as the
more correct translation has it : " Behold
among His saints none is unchangeable, and
the heavens are not pure in His sight." ■*

CHAPTER IX.

Of the care with which a monk should preserve the recollection

of God.

I SHOULD say then that the saints who keep
a firm hold of the recollection of God and are
borne along, as it were, with their steps sus-
pended on a line stretched out on high, may
be rightly compared to rope dancers, com-
monly called funambuli, who risk all their
safety and life on the path of that very narrow
rope, with no doubt that they will immediately
meet with a most dreadful death if their foot
swerves or trips in the very slightest degree,
or goes over the line of the course in which
alone is safety. And while with marvel-
lous skill they ply their airy steps through
space, if they keep not their steps to that all
too narrow path with careful and anxious regu-
lation, the earth which is the natural base
and the most solid and safest foundation for
all, becomes to them an immediate and clear
danger, not because its nature is changed, but
because they fall headlong upon it by the

3 I John ii. 15-17.

* Job XXV. 5; XV. 15.

THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

525

weight of their bodies. So also that un-
wearied goodness of God and His unchanging
nature ^ hurts no one indeed, but we ourselves
by falling from on high and tending to the
depths are the authors of our own death, or
rather the very fall becomes death to the
fallen For it says: "Woe to them for they
have departed from Me : they shall be wasted
because they have transgressed against Me;"
and again: "Woe to them when I shall depart
from them." For "thine own wickedness
shall reprove thee, and thy apostasy shall re-
buke thee. Know thou and see that it is an
evil and a bitter thing for thee to have left
the Lord thy God ; " for " every man is bound
by the cords of his sins."" To whom this
rebuke is aptly directed by the Lord: "Be-
hold," He says, "all you that kindle a fire,
encompassed with flames, walk ye in the light
of your fire and in the flames which you have
kindled;" and again: "He that kindleth ini-
quity, shall perish by it." ^

CHAPTER X.

How those who are on the way to perfection are truly humble,
and teel that they always stand in need of God's grace.

When then holy men feel that they are op-
pressed by the weight of earthly thoughts and
fall away from their loftiness of mind, and
that they are led away against their will or
rather without knowing it, into the law of sin
and death, and (to pass over other matters) are
kept back by those actions which I described
above, which are good and right though earthly,
from the vision of God; they have something
to groan over constantly to the Lord; they
have something for which indeed to humble
themselves, and in their contrition to profess
themselves not in words only but in heart,
sinners; and for this, while they continually
ask of the Lord's grace pardon for everything
that day by day they commit when overcome
by the weakness of the flesh, they should shed
without ceasing true tears of penitence ; as they
see that being involved even to the very end
of their life in the very same troubles, with
continual sorrow for which they are tried, they
cannot even offer their prayers without ha-
rassing thoughts. So then as they know by ex-
perience that through the hindrance of the
burden of the flesh they cannot by human
strength reach the desired end, nor be united
according to their heart's desire with that
chief and highest good, but that they are led
away from the vision of it captive to worldly

1 Substantia. - Hos. vii. 13; ix. 12; Jer. ii. 19; Prov. v. 22.
* Isa. 1. II ; Prov. xix. 9.

things, they betake themselves to the grace
of God, "Who justifieth the ungodly," * and
cry out with the Apostle: "O wretched man
that I am! Who shall deliver me from the
body of this death? Thanks be to God
through our Lord Jesus Christ."'' For they
feel that they cannot perform the good that
they would, but are ever falling into the evil
which they would not, and which they hate,
i.e., wandering thoughts and care for carnal
things.

CHAPTER XL

Explanation of the phrase: " For I delight in the law of God
after the inner man," etc.

And they "delight" indeed "in the law of
God after the inner man," which soars above
all visible things and ever strives to be united
to God alone, but they "see another law in
their members," i.e., implanted in their na-
tural human condition, which "resisting the
law of their mind,"^ brings their thoughts
into captivity to the forcible law of sin, com-
pelling them to forsake that chief good and
submit to earthly notions, which though they
may appear necessary and useful when they
are taken up in the interests of some religious
want, yet when they are set against that good
which fascinates the gaze of all the saints,
are seen by them to be bad and such as should
be avoided, because by them in some way or
other and for a short time they are drawn away
from the joy of that perfect bliss. For the
law of sin is really what the fall of its first
father brought on mankind by that fault of
his, against which there was uttered this sen-
tence by the most just Judge: "Cursed is the
ground in thy works; thorns and thistles shall
it bring forth to thee, and in the sweat of thy
brow shalt thou eat bread."'' This, I say, is
the law, implanted in the members of all mor-
tals, which resists the law of our mind and
keeps it back from the virion of God, and
which, as the earth is cursed in our works after
the knowledge of good and evil, begins to pro-
duce the thorns and thistles of thoughts, by the
sharp pricks of which the natural seeds of vir-
tues are choked, so that without the sweat of
our brow we cannot eat our bread which
" Cometh down from heaven," and which
" strengtheneth man's heart." ^ The whole
human race in general therefore is without
exception subject to this law. For there is
no one, however saintly, who does not take the

* Rom. iv. 5.

^ Rom. vii. 24, 25.

' 16. vii. 22, 23.

' Gen. iii. 17, ig.

' S. John vi. 33 ; Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15.

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bread mentioned above with the sweat of his
brow and anxious efforts of his heart. But
many rich men, as we see, are fed on that
common bread without any sweat of their
brow.

CHAPTER XII.

Of this also : " But we know that the law is spiritual,"' etc.

And this law the Apostle also calls spiritual
saying : " But we know that the law is spiritual,
but I am carnal, sold under sin. "^ For this
law is spiritual which bids us eat in the sweat
of our brow that "true bread which cometh
down from heaven " ^ but that sale under sin
makes us carnal. What, I ask, or whose is
that sin? Doubtless Adam's, by whose fall,
and, if I may so say, ruinous transaction and
fraudulent bargain we were sold. For when
he was led astray by the persuasion of the ser-
pent he brought all his descendants under
the yoke of perpetual bondage, as they were
alienated by taking the forbidden food. For
this custom is generally observed between the
buyer and seller, that one who wants to make
himself over to the power of another, receives
from_ his buyer a price for the loss of his j
liberty, and his consignment to perpetual
slavery. And we can very plainly see that
this took place between Adam and the ser-
pent. For by eating of the forbidden tree
he received from the serpent the price of his
liberty, and gave up his natural freedom
and chose to give himself up to perpetual
slavery to him from whom he had obtained
the deadly price of the forbidden fruit; and
thenceforth he was bound by this condition
and not without reason subjected all the
offspring of his posterity to perpetual service
to him whose slave he had become. For
what can any marriage in slavery produce but
slaves? What then? Did that cunning and
crafty buyer take away the rights of owner-
ship from the true and lawful lord ? Not so.
For neither did he overcome all God's pro-
perty by the craft of a single act of deception
so that the true lord lost his rights of owner-
ship, who though the buyer himself was a
rebel and a renegade, yet oppressed' him with
the yoke of slavery; but because the Creator
had endowed all reasonable creatures with
free will, he would not restore to their natural
liberty against their will those who contrary
to right had sold themselves by the sin of
greedy lust. Since anything that is contrary
to goodness and fairness is abhorrent to Him
who is the Author of justice and piety. For

1 R

om. vii. 14.

2 S. John vi. 33.

it would have been wrong for Him to have
recalled the blessing of freedom granted,
unfair for Him to have by His power op-
pressed man who was free, and by taking him
captive, not to have allowed him to exercise
the prerogative of the freedom he had received,
as He was reserving his salvation for future
ages, that in due season the fulness of the
appointed time might be fulfilled. For it was
right that his offspring should remain under
the ancient conditions for so long a time, un-
til by the price of His own blood the grace of
the Lord redeemed them from their original
chains and set them free in the primeval state
of liberty, though He was able even then to
save them, but would not, because equity
forbade Him to break the terms of His own
decree. Would you know the reason for your
being sold? Hear thy Redeemer Himself
proclaiming openly by Isaiah the prophet:
"What is this bill of the divorce of your
mother with which I have put her away? Or
who is My creditor to whom I sold you?
Behold you are sold for your iniquities and
for your wicked deeds have I put your mother
away." Would you also plainly see why when
you were consigned to the yoke of slavery He
would not redeem you by the might of His
own power? Hear what He added to the
former passage, and how He charges the same
servants of sin with the reason for their volun-
tary sale. "Is My hand shortened and be-
come little that I cannot redeem, or is there
no strength in Me to deliver? " ^ But what it
is which is always standing in the way of His
most powerful pity the same prophet shows
when he says : " Behold the hand of the Lord
is not shortened that it cannot save, neither
is His ear heavy that it cannot hear: But your
iniquities have divided between you and your
God and your sins have hid His face from
you that He should not hear." ^

CHAPTER XIIL

Of this also : " But I know that in me, that is in my flesh,
dwelleth no good thing."'

Because then the original curse of God
has made us carnal and condemned us to
thorns and thistles, and our father has sold
us by that unhappy bargain so tliat we can-
not do the good that we would, while we are
torn away from the recollection of God Most
High and forced to think on what belongs to
human weakness, while burning with the love
of purity, we are often even against our will

' Isa. 1. I, 2.

< Isa.

lix. I, 2.

THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

527

troubled by natural desires, which we would
rather know nothinj^; about; we know that in
our rtesh there dwelleth no good thing ^ viz.,
the perpetual and lasting peace of this medi-
tation of which we have spoken; but there is
brought about in our case that miserable and
wretched divorce, that when with the mind we
want to serve the law of God, since we never
want to remove our gaze from the Divine
brightness, yet surrounded as we are by car-
nal darkness we are forced by a kind of law
of sin to tear ourselves away from the good
which we know, as we fall away from that
lofty height of mind to earthly cares and
thoughts, to which the law of sin, i.e., the
sentence of God, which the first delinquent
received, has not without reason condemned
us. And hence it is that the blessed Apostle,
though he openly admits that he and all saints
are bound by the constraint of this sin, yet
boldly asserts that none of them will be con-
demned for this, saying: "There is therefore
now no condemnation to them that are in
Christ Jesus: for the law of the spirit of life
in Christ Jesus hath set me free from the law
of sin and death," ^ i.e., the grace of Christ
day by day frees all his saints from this law
of sin and death, under which they are con-
stantly reluctantly obliged to come, whenever
they pray to the Lord for the forgiveness of
their trespasses. You see then that it was
in the person not of sinners but of those who
are really saints and perfect, that the blessed
Apostle gave utterance to this saying : " For
I do not the good that I would, but the evil
which I hate, that I do;" and: "I see another
law in my members resisting the law of my
mind and bringing me captive to the law of
sin which is in my members."^

CHAPTER XIV.

An objection, that the saying : " For I do not the good that I
would," etc., applies to the persons neither of unbelievers
nor of saints.

Germanus : We say that this does not apply
to the persons either of those who are involved
in capital offences, or of an Apostle and those
who have advanced to his measure, but we
think that it ought properly to be taken of
those who after receiving the grace of God
and the knowledge of the truth, are anxious
to keep themselves from carnal sins but, as
ancient custom like a natural law rules most
forcibly in their members, they are carried
away to the ingrained lust of their passions.
For the custom and frequency of sinning be-

1 Cf. Rom. vii. iS.

Rom. viii. i, 2.

Rom. vii. 19.

j comes like a natural law, which, implanted
in the man's weak members, leads the feel-
ings of the soul that is not yet instructed in
all the pursuits of virtue, but is still, if I may
say so, of an un instructed and tender chastity,
' captive to sin and subjecting them by an an-
I cient law to death, brings them under the yoke
of sin that rules over them, not suffering
them to obtain the good of purity which they
love, but rather forcing them to do the evil
which they hate.

CHAPTER XV.

The answer to the objection raised.

Theonas : Your notion does not come to
much; as you yourselves have actually now
begun to maintain that this cannot possibly
stand in the person of those who are out and
out sinners, but that it properly applies to
those who are trying to keep themselves clear
from carnal sins. And since you have already
separated these from the number of sinners,
it follows that you must shortly admit them
into the ranks of the faithful and holy. For
what kinds of sin do you say that those can
commit, from which, if they are involved in
them after the grace of baptism, they can be
freed by the daily grace of Christ? or of what
body of death are we to think that the Apostle
said: "Who shall deliver me from the body
of this death? . Thanks be to God through
Jesus Christ our Lord " ? ^ Is it not clear, as
truth compels you yourselves also to admit,
that it is spoken not of those members of capi-
tal crimes, by which the wages of eternal death
are gained; viz., murder, fornication, adultery,
drunkenness, thefts and robberies, but of that
body before mentioned, w-hich the daily grace
of Christ assists? For whoever after baptism
and the knowledge of God falls into that
death, must know that he will either have
to be cleansed, not by the daily grace of
Christ, i.e., an easy forgiveness, which our
Lord when at any moment He is prayed to,
is wont to grant to our errors, but by a life-
long affliction of penitence and penal sorrow,
or else will be hereafter consigned to the pun-
ishment of eternal fire for them, as the same
Apostle thus declares: "Be not deceived:
neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulter-
ers, nor effeminate, nor defilers of themselves
with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous per-
sons, nor drunkards, nor railers, nor extor-
tioners shall possess the kingdom of God. "^
Or what is that law warring in our members

* Rom. vii. 24, 25.

5 I Cor. vi. 9, 10.

528

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

which resists the law of our mind, and when
it has led us resisting but captives to the law of
sin and death, and has made us serve it with
the tiesh, nevertheless suffers us to serve the
law of God with the mind? For I do not
suppose that this law of sin denotes crimes or
can be taken of the offences mentioned above,
of which if a man is guilty he does not serve
the law of God with the mind, from which law
he must first have departed in heart before he
is guilty of any of them with the flesh. For
what is it to serve the law of sin, but to
do what is commanded by sin? What sort
of sin then is it to which so great holiness and
perfection feels that it is captive, and yet
doubts not that it wall be freed from it by the
grace of Christ, saying: ''O wTetched man
that I am! Who shall deliver me from the
body of this death? Thanks be to God
through Jesus Christ our Lord " ? What law,
I ask, will you maintain to be implanted in
our members, which, withdrawing us from the
law of God and bringing us into captivity to
the law of sin, could make us wretched rather
than guilty so that we should not be consigned
to eternal punishment, but still as it were sigh
for the unbroken joys of bliss, and, seeking
for a helper who shall restore us to it, exclaim
with the Apostle : ' O wretched man that I am !
Who shall deliver me from the body of this
death?" For what is it to be led captive to
the law of sin but to continue to perform and
commit sin ? Or what other chief good can be
given which the saints cannot fulfil, except
that in comparison with which, as we said
above, everything else is not good? Indeed
we know that many things in this world are
good, and chiefly, modesty, continence, so-
briety, humility, justice, mercy, temperance,
piety: but all of these things fail to come up
to that chief good, and can be done I say not
by apostles, but even by ordinary folk; and,
those by whom they are not done, are either
chastised with eternal punishment, or are set
free by great exertions, as was said above, of
penitence, and not by the daily grace of
Christ. It remains then for us to admit that
this saying of the Apostle is rightly applied
only to the persons of saints, who day after
day falling under this law, which we described,
of sin not of crimes, are secure of their salva-
tion and not precipitated into wicked deeds,
but, as has often been said, are drawn away
from the contemplation of God to the misery
of bodily thoughts, and are often deprived of
the blessing of that true bliss. For if they
felt that by this law of their members they
were bound daily to crimes, they would com-
plain of the loss not of happiness but of inno-
cence, and the Apostle Paul would not say:

"O wretched man that I am," but "Impure,"
or "Wicked man that I am," and he would
wish to be rid not of the body of this death,
i.e., this mortal state, but of the crimes and
misdeeds of this flesh. But because by reason
of his state of human frailty he felt that he
was captive, i.e., led away to carnal cares
and anxieties which the law of sin and death
causes, he groans over this law of sin under
which against his will he had fallen, and at
once has recourse to Christ and is saved by
the present redemption of His grace. What-
ever of anxiety therefore that law of sin, which
naturally produces the thorns and thistles of
mortal thoughts and cares, has caused to
spring up in the ground of the Apostle's
breast, that the law of grace at once plucks
up. " For the law," says he, "of the spirit of
life in Christ Jesus hath set me free from the
law of sin and death." ^

CHAPTER XVI.

What is the body of sin.

This then is that body of death from which
we cannot escape, pent in which those who
are perfect, who have tasted "how gracious
the Lord is,"- daily feel with the prophet
"how bad for himself and bitter it is for a
man to depart from the Lord his God."'^
This is the body of death which restrains us
from the heavenly vision and drags us back
to earthly things, which causes men while
singing Psalms and kneeling in prayer to have
their thoughts filled with human figures, or
conversations, or business, or unnecessary
actions. This is the body of death, owing
to which those, who would emulate the sanc-
tity of angels, and who long to cling contin-
ually to God, yet are unable to arrive at the
perfection of this good, because the body of
death stands in their way, but they do the
evil that they would not, i.e., they are dragged
down in their minds even to the things which
have nothing to do with their advance and
perfection in virtue. Finally that the blessed
Apostle might clearly denote that he said this
of saintly and perfect men, and those like
himself, he in a way points with his finger to
himself and at once proceeds : " And so I my-
self," i.e, I who say this, lay bare the secrets
of my own not another's conscience. This
mode of speech at any rate the Apostle is
familiarly accustomed to use, whenever he
wants to point specially to himself, as here :
" I, Paul, myself beseech you by the mildness

1 Rom. viii. 2. ' Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 9. ' Jer. ii. ig.

THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS.

529

and modesty of Christ;" and again: ''except
that 1 myself was not burdensome to you ; "
and once more: " But be it so: 1 myself did
not burden you;" and elsewhere: "I, Paul,
myself say unto you: if ye be circumcised
Christ shall profit you nothing;" and to the
Romans: "For I could wish that I myself
were Anathema from Christ for my brethren." ^
But it cannot unreasonably be taken in this
way, that '" And so 1 myself " is expressly
said with emphasis, i.e., 1 whom you know to
be an Apostle of Christ, whom you venerate
with the utmost respect, whom you believe to
be of the highest character and perfect, and
one in whom Christ speaks, though with the
mind I serve the law of God, yet with the
flesh I confess that I serve the law of sin, i.e.,
by the occupations of my human condition I
am sometimes dragged down from heavenly
to earthly things and the height of my mind is
brought down to the level of care for humble
matters. And by this law of sin I find that
at every moment I am so taken captive that
although I persist in my immovable longing
around the law of God, yet in no way can 1
escape the power of this captivity, unless I
always fly to the grace of the Saviour.

CHAPTER XVII.

How all the saints have confessed with truth that they were
unclean and sinful.

And therefore with daily sighs all the saints
grieve over this weakness of their nature and
while they search into their shifting thoughts
and the secrets and inmost recesses of their
conscience, cry out in entreaty: "Enter not
into judgment with Thy servant, for in Thy
sight shall no man living be justified;" and
this: " Who will boast that he hath a chaste
heart? or who will have confidence that he is
pure from sin?" and again: "There is not
a righteous man upon earth that doeth good
and sinneth not ; " and this also : " Who know-
eth his faults?"^ And so they have recog-
nized that man's righteousness is weak and
imperfect and always needs God's mercy, so
that one of those whose iniquities and sins
God purged away with the live coal of His
word sent from the altar, after that marvellous
vision of God, after his view of the Seraphim
on high and the revelation of heavenly mys-
teries, said: "Woe is me! for I am a man of
unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a
people of unclean lips." ^ And I fancy that

^ 2 Cor. X. I ; xii. 13, 16; Gal. v. 2; Rom. ix. 3.
2 Ps. cxlii. (cxliii.) 2; Prov. xx. 9; Eccl. vii. 21; Ps. xviii.
(xix.) 13. * Isa. vi. 5.

perhaps even then he would not have felt the
uncleanness of his lips, unless it had been
given him to recognize the true and complete
purity of perfection by the vision of God, at
the sight of Whom he suddenly became aware
of his own uncleanness, of which he had pre-
viously been ignorant. Eor when he says:
"Woe is me! for I am a man of unclean lips,"
he shows that his confession that follows
refers to his own lips, and not to the unclean-
ness of the people: "and I dwell in the midst
of a people of unclean lips." But even when
in his prayer he confesses the uncleanness of
all sinners, he embraces in his general sup-
plication not only the mass of the wicked but
also of the good, saying: " Behold Thou art
angry, and we have sinned : in them we have
been always, and we shall be saved. We are
all become as one unclean, and all our right-
eousnesses as filthy rags."* \\'hat, I ask,
could be clearer than this saying, in which
the prophet includes not one only but all our
righteousnesses and, looking round on all
tilings that are considered unclean and disgust-
ing, because he could find nothing in the life
of men fouler or more unclean, chose to com-
pare them to filthy rags. In vain then is the
sharpness of a nagging objection raised
against this perfectly clear truth, as a little
while back you said: "If no one is without
sin, then no one is holy; and if no one is holy,
then no one will be saved. "^ For the puzzle
of this question can be solved by the prophet's
testimony. "Behold," he says, "Thou art
angry and we have sinned," i.e., when Thou
didst reject our pride of heart or our careless-
ness, and deprive us of Thine aid, at once the
abyss of our sins swallowed us up, as if one
[ should say to the bright substance of the sun :
I Behold thou hast set, and at once murky dark-
' ness covered us. And yet though he here
I says that the saints have sinned, and have
not only sinned but also have always remained
in their sins, he does not altogether despair
of salvation but adds : " In them we have been
always, and we shall be saved." This say-
ing: "Behold Thou art angry and we have
sinned," I will compare to that one of the
Apostle's: "O wretched man that I am!
Who shall deliver me from the body of this
death ? " Again this that the prophet sub-
joins: "In them we have been always, and
we shall be saved," corresponds to the fol-
lowing words of the Apostle: "Thanks be to
God through Jesus Christ our Lord." In the
same way also this passage of the same pro-
phet : " Woe is me ! for I am a man of unclean
lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of

< Isa. Ixiv. 5, 6.

0 Cf. XXII. viii.

530

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unclean lips," seems to agree with the words
quoted above : " O wretched man that I am !
Who shall deliver me from the body of this
death?" And what follows in the prophet:
"And behold there flew to me one of the Se-
raphim, having in his hand a coal (or stone)
which he had taken with the tongs from off
the altar. And he touched my mouth and
said : Lo, with this I have touched thy lips,
and thine iniquity is taken away and thy sin
is purged," ^ is just what seems to have fallen
from the mouth of Paul, who says: "Thanks
be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord."
You see then how all the saints with truth
confess not so much in the person of the
people as in their own that they are sinners,
and yet by no means despair of their salvation,
but look for full justification (which they do
not hope that they cannot obtain by virtue of
the state of human frailty) from the grace and
mercy of the Lord.

CHAPTER XVI 11.

That even good and holy men are not without sin.

But that no one however holy is in this
life free from trespasses and sin, we are told
also by the teaching of the Saviour, who gave
His disciples the form of the perfect prayer;
and among those other sublime and sacred
commands, which as they were only given to
the saints and perfect cannot apply to the
wicked and unbelievers. He bade this to be
inserted: "And forgive us our debts as we
also forgive our debtors."" If then this is
offered as a true prayer and by saints, as we
ought without the shadow of a doubt to believe,
who can be found so obstinate and impudent,
so puffed up with the pride of the devil's own
rage, as to maintain that he is without sin,
and not only to think himself greater than
apostles, but also to charge the Saviour
Himself with ignorance or folly, as if He
either did not know that some men could be
free from debts, or was idly teaching those
whom He knew to stand in no need of the
remedy of that prayer? But since all the
saints who altogether keep the commands of
their King, say every day " Forgive us our
debts," if they speak the truth, there is indeed
no one free from sin, but if they speak falsely,
it is equally true that they are not free from
the sin of falsehood. Wherefore also that
most wise Ecclesiastes reviewing in his mind
all the actions and purposes of men declares
without any exception: "that there is not a

righteous man upon earth, that doeth good
and sinneth not," ^ i.e., no one ever could or
ever will be found on this earth so holy, so
diligent, so earnest as to be able continually
to cling to that true and unique good, and not
day after day to feel that he is drawn aside
from it and fails. But still though he main-
tains that he cannot be free from wrong doing,
yet none the less we must not deny that he is

righteous.

CHAPER XIX.

' Isa. vi. 6, 7.

S. Matt. vi. 12.

How even in the hour of prayer it is almost impossible to

avoid sin.

Whoever then ascribes sinlessness to hu-
man nature must fight against no idle words
but the witness and proof of his conscience
which is on our side, and then only should
maintain that he is without sin, when he
finds that he is not torn away from this
highest good: nay rather, whoever consider-
ing his own conscience, to say no more, finds
that he has celebrated even one single service
without the distraction of a single word or
deed or thought, may say that he is without
sin. Further because we admit that the dis-
cursive lightness of the human mind cannot
get rid of these idle and empty things, we thus
consequently confess with truth that we are
not without sin. For with whatever care a
man tries to keep his heart, he can never,'
owing to the resistance of the nature of the
flesh, keep it according to the desire of his
spirit. For however far the human mind may
have advanced and progressed towards a finer
purity of contemplation, so much the more
will it see itself to be unclean, as it were in
the mirror of its purity, because while the
soul raises itself for a loftier vision and as
it looks forth yearns for greater things than it
performs, it is sure always to despise as infe-
rior and worthless the things in which it is
mixed up. Since a keener sight notices more;
and a blameless life produces greater sorrow
when found fault with ; and amendment of life,
and earnest striving after goodness multiplies
groans and sighs. For no one can rest con-
tent with that stage to which he has advanced,
and however much a man may be purified in
mind, so much the more does he see himself
to be foul, and find grounds for humiliation
rather than for pride, and, however swiftly
he may climb to greater heights, so much
more does he see above him whither he is
tending. Finally that chosen Apostle "whom
Jesus loved,"* who lay on His bosom, uttered
this saying as if from the heart of the Lord:

5 Eccl. vii. 21.

* S. John xiii. 23.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

53^

" If we say that we have no sin we deceive
ourselves and the truth is not in us." ^ And
so if when we say that we have no sin, we
have not the truth, that is Christ, in us, what
good do we do except to prove ourselves by
this very profession, criminals and wicked
among sinners?

CHAPTER XX.

From whom we can learn the destruction of sin and perfection
of goodness.

Lastly if you would like to investigate
more thoroughly whether it is possible for hu-
man nature to attain sinlessness, from whom
can we more clearly learn this than from those
who "have crucified the flesh with its faults
and lusts," and to whom "the world is really
crucified " ? " \\'ho though they have not only
utterly eradicated all faults from their hearts,
but also are trying to shut out even the
thought and recollection of sin, yet still day
after day faithfully maintain that they cannot
even for a single hour be free from spot of
sin.

CHAPTER XXI.

That although we acknowledge that we cannot be without sin,
yet still we ought not to suspend ourselves from the Lord's
Communion.

Yet we ought not to suspend ourselves
from the Lord's Communion because we con-
fess ourselves sinners, but should more and

more eagerly hasten to it for the healing of
our soul, and purifying of our spirit, and seek
the rather a remedy for our wounds with hu-
mility of mind and faith, as considering our-
selves unworthy to receive so great grace.
Otherwise we cannot wortiiily receive the
Communion even once a year, as some do,
who live in monasteries and so regard the
dignity and holiness and value of the heavenly
sacraments, as to think that none but saints
and spotless persons should venture to receive
them, and not rather that they would make
us saints and pure by taking them. And these
thereby fall into greater presumption and
arrogance than what they seem to themselves
to avoid, because at the time when they do
receive them, they consider that they are
worthy to receive them. But it is much
better to receive them every Sunday for the
healing of our infirmities, with that humility
of heart, whereby we believe and confess that
we can never touch those holy mysteries
worthily, than to be puffed up by a foolish
persuasion of heart, and believe that at the
year's end we are worthy to receive them.
Wherefore that we may be able to grasp this
and hold it fruitfully, let us the more ear-
nestly implore the Lord's mercy to help us to
perform this, which is learnt not like other
human arts, by some previous verbal explana-
tion, but rather by experience and action
leading the way; and which also unless it is
often considered and hammered out in the
Conferences of spiritual persons, and an-
xiously sifted by daily experience and trial of
it, will either become obsolete through care-
lessness or perish by idle forgetfulness.

XXIV.
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

OA^ MORTIFICATION.

CHAPTER L

How we laid bare the secrets of our thoughts to Abbot

Abraham.

This twenty-fourth Conference of Abbot
Abraham ^ is by the favour of Christ produced,
which concludes the traditions and decisions
of all the Elders; and when by the aid of your
prayers it has been finished, as the number

1 I John i. 8. 2 Gal. v. 24; vi. 14. ^ Cf. the note on XV. iv.

mystically corresponds to that of the four and
twenty Elders who are said in the holy Apo-
calypse - to offer their crowns to the Lamb,
we think that we shall have paid the debt of
all our promises. And henceforth if these
four and twenty Elders of ours have been
crowned with any glory for the sake of their
' teaching, they shall with bowed heads offer it
to the Lamb wiio was slain for the salvation
of the world : for He it was Who vouschafed

* Rev. iv. 4.

532

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

for the honour of His name to grant to them
such exalted feelings and to us whatever
words were needful to set forth such profound
thoughts. And the merits of His gift must
be referred to the Author of all good, to whom
the more is owed, as the more is paid. There-
fore with anxious confession we laid before
this Abraham the impulse of our thoughts,
whereby we were urged by daily perplexities
of our mind to return to our country and re-
visit our kinsfolk. For from this the greatest
reason for our desire sprang, because we re-
membered that our kinsfolk were endowed
with such piety and goodness that we felt sure
that they would never interfere with our pur-
pose, and we constantly reflected, that we
should gain more good out of their earnest-
ness, and should be hampered by no cares
about bodily matters, and no trouble in pro-
viding food, as they would gladly minister
abundantly to the supply of all our wants, and
besides this we were feeding our souls on the
hope of empty joys, as we thought that we
should gain the greatest good from the con-
version ^ of many, who were to be turned to
the way of salvation by our example and in-
structions. Then besides this the very spot,
where Avas the ancestral possession of our
forefathers, and the delightful pleasantness of
the neighbourhood was painted before our
eyes, how pleasantly and suitably it stretched
away to the desert, so that the recesses of the
woods would not only delight the heart of
a monk, but would also furnish him with a
plentiful supply of food."^ And when we ex-
plained all this to the aforesaid old man, in
a straightforward way, according to the faith
of our consience, and showed by our copious
tears that we could no longer resist the vio-
lence of the impulse, unless the grace of God
came to our rescue by the healing which he
could give, he waited for a long time in silence
and at last sighed deeply and said:

CHAPTER II.

How the old man exposed our errors.

The feebleness of your ideas shows that
you have not yet renounced worldly desires
nor mortified your former lusts. For as the
wandering character of your desires testifies
to the sloth of your heart, this pilgrimage and
absence from your kinsfolk, which you ought
rather to endure with your heart, you ^o en-
dure onlv with the flesh. For all these things

* Petschenig's text reads conversione, others conversaiione.
2 On the bearitip; of this passage on the question of Cassian's
nationality see the Introd., p. 183.

would have been buried and altogether driven
out of your hearts, if you had got hold of the
right method of renunciation, and the main
reason for the solitude in which we dwell.
And so I see that you are labouring under
that infirmity of sluggishness, which is thus
described in Proverbs : " Every sluggard is
always desiring something;" and again:
"Desires kill the slothful."* For in our case
too these supplies of worldly conveniences,
which you have described, would not be want-
ing, if we believed that they were appropriate
to our calling, or thought that we could get
out of those delights and pleasures as much
profit as that which is gained from this squalor
of the country and bodily affliction. Nor are
we so deprived of the solace of our kinsfolk,
that those who delight to support us with their
substance should fail us, were it not that this
saying of the Saviour meets us and excludes
everything that contributes to the support of
this flesh, as He says: "He who doth not
leave (or hate) father and mother and child-
ren and brethren cannot be My disciple."^
But if we were altogether deprived of the pro-
tection of our parents, the services of the
princes of this world would not be wanting,
as they would most thankfully rejoice to
minister to our necessities with prompt liber-
ality. And supported by their bounty, we
should be free from the care of preparing
food, were it not that this curse of the prophet
terribly frightened us. For "Cursed," he
says, " is the man that putteth his hope in
man;" and: " Put not your trust in princes." ^
We should also at any rate place our cells on
the banks of the river Nile and have water
at our very doors, so as not to be obliged
to carry it on our necks for four miles, were it
not that the blessed Apostle rendered us inde-
fatigable in enduring this labour, and cheered
us by his words, saying: "Every one shall re-
ceive his own reward according to his labour." ®
Nor are we ignorant that there are even in our
country some pleasant recesses, where plenty
of fruits, and pleasant gardens, and fertile
ground would furnish the food we need with
the slightest bodily efforts on our part, were it
not that we were afraid lest that reproach might
apply to us, which is directed against the rich '
man in the gospel : " Because thou hast received
thy consolation in this life." "^ But as we des-
pise all these things and scorn them together
with all the pleasures of this world, we delight
only in this squalor, and prefer to all luxuries
this dreadful and vast desert, and cannot
compare any riches of a fertile soil to these

* Prov. xiii. 4 ; xxi. 25.

< S. Luke xiv. 26.

^ Jer. xvii. 5; Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.) 2.

0 I Cor. iii. 8.
' S. Luke xvi. 25.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

barren sands, as we pursue no temporal gains
of this body, but the eternal rewards of the
spirit. For it is but little for a monk to have
once made his renunciation, i.e., in the early
days of his conversion to have disregarded the
present world, unless he continues to renounce
it daily. For to the very end of this life we
must with the prophet say this: "And I have
not desired the day of man, Thou knowest. "^
Wherefore also tlie Lord says in the gospel:
" If any man will come after Me, let him
deny liimself and take up his cross daily and
followMe.'--

CHAPTER III.

Of the character of the districts which anchorites ought to

seek.

And therefore by him who is exercising
anxious care over the purity of his inner man,
those districts should be sought, which do not
by their fruitfulness and fertility invite his
mind to the trouble of cultivating them, nor
drive him forth from his fixed and immovable
position in his cell, and force him to go forth
to some work in the open air, and so, his
thoughts being as it were poured forth openly,
scatter to the winds all his concentration of
mind and all the keenness of his vision of his
aim. And this cannot be guarded against or
seen by anyone at all however careful and
watchful, except one who continually keeps
his body and soul shut up and enclosed in
walls, that, like a splendid fisherman, looking
out for food for himself by the apostolic art,
he may eagerly and without moving catch the
swarms of thoughts swiinming in the calm
depths of his heart, and surveying with cu-
rious eye the depths as from a high rock, may
sagaciously and cvmningly decide what he
ought to lure to himself by his saving hook,
and what he can neglect and reject as bad and
nasty fishes.

CHAPTER IV.

What sorts of work should be chosen by sohtaries.

Everyone therefore who constantly perse-
veres in this watchfulness will effectually ful-
fil what is very plainly expressed by the
prophet Habakkuk: "I will stand upon my
watch, and ascend upon the rock, and will
look out to see what He shall say to me, and
what I may answer to Him that reproveth
me." ^ And how difficult and tiresome this is,
is very clearly shown by the experience of those
who live in the desert of Calamus or Porphy-

1 Jer. xvii. i6. - S. Luke ix. 23. » Hab. ii. i. (LXX.).

rion.* For though they are separated from
all the cities and dwellings of men by a longer
stretch of desert than the wilderness of Scete
(since by penetrating seven or eight days'
journey into the recesses of the vast wilder-
ness, they scarcely arrive at their hiding places
and cells) yet because there they are devoted
to agriculture and not in the least confined to
the cloister, whenever they come to these
squalid districts in which we are living, or to
Scete, they are annoyed by such harassing
thoughts and such anxiety of mind that, as if
they were beginners and men who had never
given the slightest attention to the exercises
of solitude, they cannot endure the life of the
cells and the peace and quietness of them,
and are at once driven forth and obliged to
leave them, as if they were inexperienced and
novices. For they have not learnt to still the
motions of the inner man, and to quell the
tempests of their thoughts by anxious care and
persevering efforts, as, toiling day after day
in work in the open air, they are moving about
all day long in empty space, not only in the
flesh but also in heart; and pour forth their
thoughts openly as the body moves hither and
thither, ^nd therefore they do not nqtice the
folly of their mind in longing for many things,
nor can they put a check upon its vague dis-
cursiveness; and as they cannot bear sorrow
of spirit they think that the fact of a continu-
ance of silence is unendurable, and those who
are never tired by hard work in the country,
are beaten by silence and worn out by the
length of their rest.

CHAPTER V.

That anxiety of heart is made worse rather than better by
restlessness of body.

Nor is it wonderful if one who lives in a
cell, having his thoughts collected together as
it were in a narrow cloister, is oppressed by a
multitude of anxieties, which break out with
the man himself from the confinement of the
dwelling, and at once dash here and there like
wild horses. But while they are now roaming
at large from their stalls, for the moment
some short and sad solace is enjoyed: but
when, after the body has returned to its own
cell, the whole troop of thoughts retires again
to its proper home, the habit of chronic licence
gives rise to worse pangs. Those then who
are vmable and ignorant how to strug^^le
against the promptings of their own fancies,
when they are harassed in their cell, by
accidie attacking their bosom more violently

< Cf. Institutes X. xxiv.

534

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

than usual, if they relax their strict rule and
allow themselves the liberty of going out
oftener, will arouse a worse plague against
themselves by means of this which they fancy
is a remedy: just as men fancy that they can
check the violence of an inward fever by a
draught of the coldest water, though it is a
fact that by it its fire is inflamed rather than
quenched, as a far worse attack follows after
the momentary alleviation.

CHAPTER VI.

A comparison showing how a monk ought to keep guard over
his thoughts.

Wherefore a monk's whole attention
should thus be fixed on one point, and the
rise and circle of all his thoughts be vigor-
ously restricted to it; viz., to the recollection
of God, as when a man, who is anxious to
raise on high a vault of a round arch, must
constantly draw a line round from its exact
centre, and in accordance with the sure stand-
ard it gives discover by the laws of building
all the evenness and roundness required. But
if anyone tries to finish it without ascertain-
ing its centre — though with the utmost confi-
dence in his art and ability, it is impossible
for him to keep the circumference even, with-
out any error, or to find out simply by looking
at it how much he has taken oft" by his mistake
from the beauty of real roundness, unless he
always has recourse to that test of truth and
by its decision corrects the inner and outer
edge of his work, and so finishes the large
and lofty pile to the exact point. ^ So also
our mind, unless by working round the love
of the Lord alone as an immovably fixed
centre, through all the circumstances of our
works and contrivances, it either fits or rejects
the character of all our thoughts by the excel-
lent compasses, if I may so say, of love,
will never by excellent skill build up the
structure of that spiritual edifice of which
Paul is the architect, nor possess that beauti-
ful house, which the blessed David desired
in his heart to show to the Lord and said: " I
have loved the beauty of Thine house and the
place of the dwelling of Thy glory; "^ but
will without foresight raise in his heart a
house that is not beautiful, and that is un-
worthy of the Holy Ghost, one that will pres-
ently fall, and so will receive no glory from
the reception of the blessed Inhabitant, but
will be miserably destroyed by the fall of his ,
building. j

Unites /unci! lege.

' Ps. XXV. (xxvi.) S.

CHAPTER VII.

A question why the neighbourhood of our kinsfolk is considered
to interfere with us, whereas it does not interfere in the case
of those living in Egypt.

Germanus: It is a very useful and needful
rule that is given for the kind of works that
can be done within the cells. For we have
often proved the value of this not only by the
example of your holiness, based on the imita-
tion of the virtues of the apostles, but also by
our own experience. But it is not sufiiciently
clear why we ought so thoroughly to avoid the
neighbourhood of our kinsfolk, which you did
not reject altogether. For if we see you,
blamelessly walking in all the way of perfec-
tion, and not only dwelling in your own
country but some of you having not even re-
tired far from their own village, why should
that which does not hurt you be considered
bad for us ?

CHAPTER VIII.

The answer that all things are not suitable for all men.

Abraham : Sometimes we see bad prece-
dents taken from good things. For if a man
ventures to do the same thing as another, but
not with the same mind and purpose, or not
with equal goodness, he will immediately fall
into the snares of deception and death through
the very things from which others gain the
fruit of eternal life: As that strong armed lad
matched with the warlike giant in the combat
would certainly have found, if he had been
clad in the heavy armour of Saul fit only for
men ; and that by which one of stronger age
would have laid low countless hosts of foes,
would only have brought certain danger to the
stripling, had he not with prudent discretion
chosen the sort of weapons suitable to his
youth, and armed himself against his foul foe
not with breastplate and shield, with which
he saw that others were equipped, but with
those weapons with which he was able to
fight. Wherefore it is right for each one of
us first to consider carefully the measure of
his powers and in accordance with its limits,
to choose what system he pleases, because
though all are good, yet all things cannot be
fit for all men. For we do not assert that be-
cause the anchorite's life is good, it is there-
fore suited for everybody: for by many it is
felt to be not only useless, but even injurious.
Nor because we are right in taking up the
system of the ccenobium and the pious and
praiseworthy care of the brethren, do we there-
fore consider that it ought to be followed by
everybody. So also the fruits of the care of

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

535

strangers are very plentiful, but this cannot be
taken up by everybody without loss of pa-
tience. Further, the systems of your country
and of this must first be weighed against eacli
other; and then the powers of men gathered
from the constant occurrence of their virtues
or vices must be severally weighed in the op-
posite scales. For it may happen that what
is difficult or impossible for a man of one
nation in the case of others is somehow
turned by ingrained habit into nature: just as
some nations, separated by a wide difference
of region, can bear tremendous force of cold
or heat of the sun without any covering of the
body, which certainly others who have no ex-
perience of that inclement sky, could not pos-
sibly endure, however strong they may be.
So also do you who with the utmost efforts of |
mind and body are trying in this district to
get the better of the nature of your country in '
many respects, diligently consider whether,
in those regions which, as report says, are
frozen, and bound by the cold of excessive
unbelief, you could endure this nakedness, if
I may so term it. For to us the fact that our
holy life is of long standing has almost natu-
rally imparted this fortitude in our purpose,
and if we see that you are our equals in virtue
and constancy, you in like manner need not
shun the neighbourhood of your kinsfolk and
brethren.

CHAPTER IX.

That those need not fear the neighbourhood of their kinsfolk,
who can emulate the mortitication of Abbot Apollos.

But that you may be able fairly to measure
the amount of your strength by a certain test
of strictness I will point out to you what |
was done by a certain old man; viz., Abbot j
Apollos^ that if your secret scrutiny of your j
heart decides that you are not behind this
man in purpose and goodness, you may ven- j
ture on remaining in your country and living!
near your kinsfolk without detriment to your |
purpose or injury to your mode of life, and be
sure that neither the feeling of nearness nor
your love for the district can interfere with
the strictness of this humble lot, "which not j
only your own will but the needs also of your :
pilgrimage enforce upon you in this country. |
When then his own brother had come to this i
old man, whom we have mentioned, in the j
dead of night, begging him to come out for a
little while from his monaster}^, to help him
to rescue an ox, which as he sadly complained
had stuck in the mire of a swamp a little way
off, because he could not possibly rescue it j

' Cf. the note on II. xiii. ^ Cf. the note on XIX. iii.

alone. Abbot Apollos stolidly replied to his
entreaties : " Why did you not ask our younger
brother who was nearer to you as you passed
by than I ? " and when the other, thinking that
he had forgotten the death of his brother who
had been long ago buried, and that he was
almost weak in his mind from excessive abstin-
ence and continual solitude, replied: "How
could ! summon one who died fifteen years
ago? " Abbot Apollos said: " Don't you know
that I too have been dead to this world for
twenty years, and that I can't from my tomb
in this cell give you any assistance in what
belongs to the affairs of this present life?
And Christ is so far from allowing me ever so
little to relax my purpose of mortification on
which I have entered, for extricating your ox,
that He did not even permit the very shortest
intermission of it for my father's funeral,
which would have been undertaken much more
readily properly and piously." And so do )'e
now search out the secrets of your breast and
carefully consider whether you also can con-
tinually preserve such strictness of mind with
regard to your kinsfolk, and when you find
that you are like him in this mortification of
soul, then at last you may know that in the
same way the neighbourhood of your kinsfolk
and brothers will not hurt you, when, I mean,
you hold that though they are very close to
you, you are dead to them, in such a way
that you suffer neither them to be benefited
by your assistance, nor yourselves to be re-
laxed by duties towards them.

CHAPTER X.

A question whether it is bad for a monk to have his wants
supplied by his kinsfolk. '

Germanus: On this subject you have cer-
tainly left no room for any further uncertainty.
For we are sure that we cannot possibly keep
up our present wretched garb, or our daily go-
ing barefoot in their neighbourhood, and that
there we should not even procure with the
same labour what is necessary for our suste-
nance, as here we are actually obliged to
fetch our water on our necks for three miles.
For shame on our part as well as on theirs
would not in the least allow us to do this be-
fore them. However how will it hurt our plan
of life if we are altogether set free from anxiety
on the score of preparing our food, by being
supplied by them with all things, and so give
ourselves up simply to reading and prayer,
that by the removal of that labour with which
we are now distracted we may devote our-
selves more earnestly to spiritual interests
alone?

i36

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

CHAPTER XL

The answer stating what Saint Antony laid down on this

matter.

Abraham: I will not give you my own
opinion against this, but that of the blessed
Antony, whereby he confounded the laziness
of a certain brother (overcome by this luke-
warmness which you describe) in such a way
as also to cut the knot of your subject. For
when one came as I said to the aforesaid old
man, and said that the Anchorite system was
not at all to be admired, declaring that it
required greater virtue for a man to practise
what belongs to perfection living among men
rather than in the desert, the blessed Antony
asked where he lived himself, and when he
said that he lived close to his relations, and
boasted that by their provision he w-as set free
from all care and anxiety of daily work, and
gave himself up ceaselessly and solely to read-
ing and prayer without any distraction of
spirit, once more the blessed Antony said:
"Tell me, my good friend, whether you grieve
with their griefs and misfortunes, and in the
same way rejoice in their good fortune .'' " He
confessed that he shared in them both. To
whom the old man: "You should know," said
he, "that in the world to come also you will
be judged in the lot of those with whom in
this life you have been affected b}' sharing in
their gain or loss, or joy or sorrow." And
not satisfied with this statement the blessed
Antony entered on a still wider field of dis-
cussion, saying: "This mode of life and this
most lukewarm condition not only strike you
with that damage of which I spoke (though
you do not feel it now, when somehow you
say in accordance with that saying in Proverbs :
'They strike me but I am not grieved : and
they mocked me but I knew it not; ' or this
that is said in the Prophet: 'And strangers
have devoured his strength, but he himself
knew it not'^), because day after day they
ceaselessly drag down your mind to earthly
things, and change it in accordance with the
variations of chance; but also because they
defraud you of the fruits of your hands and
the due reward of your own exertions, as they
do not suffer you to be supported by what these
supply, or to procure your daily food for your-
self with your own hands, according to the rule
of the blessed Apostle, as he when giving his
last charge to the heads of the Church of
Ephesus, asserts that though he was occupied
with the sacred duties of preaching the gos-
pel yet he provided not only for himself, but

^ Prov. xxiii. 35 (LXX.); Hos. vii. 9.

also for those who were prevented by neces-
sary duties with regard to his ministry, say-
ing : ' Ye yourselves know that these hands
have ministered to my necessities and to the
necessities of those who were with me. ' But
to show that he did this as a pattern to be
useful to us he says elsewhere: 'We were not
idle among you; neither did we eat any man's
bread for nothing, but in labour and in toil we
worked night and day lest we should be char-
geable to any of you. Not as if we had not
power; but that we might give ourselves a
pattern unto you, to imitate us." ^

CHAPTER XII.

Of the value of work and the harm of idleness.

And so though we also might have the pro-
tection of our kinsfolk, yet we have preferred
this abstinence to all riches, and have chosen
to procure our daily bodily sustenance by our
own exertions rather than relv on the sure
provision made by our relations, having less in-
clination for idle meditation on holy Scripture
of which you have spoken, and that fruit-
less attendance to reading than to this labor-
ious poverty. And certainly we should most
gladly pursue the former, if the authority of
the apostles had taught us by their examples
that it was better for us, or the rules of the
Elders had laid it down for our good. But
you must know that you are affected by this
no less than by that harm of which I spoke
above, because though your body may be sound
and lusty, yet you are supported by another's
contributions, a thing which properly belongs
only to the feeble. For certainly the whole
human race, except only that class of monks,
who live in accordance with the Apostle's
command by the daily labours of their own
hands, looks for the charity of another's com-
passion. Wherefore it is clear that not only
those who boast that they themselves are sup-
ported either by the wealth of their relations
or the labours of their servants or the produce
of their farms, but also the kings of this world
are supported by charity. This at any rate is
embraced in the definition of our predeces-
sors, who have laid down that anything that
is taken for the requirements of daily food
which has not been procured and prepared by
the labour of our own hands, ought to be re-
ferred to| charity, as the Apostle teaches, who
altogether forbids the help of another's bounty
to the idle and says : '" If a man does not
work, neither let him eat."^ These words

2 Acts XX. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 7, 9.

^ 2 Thess. iii. 10.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

537

the blessed Antony used against some one, and
instructed us also by the example of his teach-
ing, to shun the pernicious allurements of our
relations and of all who provide the needful
charity for our food as well as the delights of
a pleasant home, and to prefer to all the
wealth of this world sandy wastes horrid with
the barrenness of nature, and districts over-
whelmed by living incrustations, and for that
reason subject to no control or dominion of
man, so that we should not only avoid the
society of men for the sake of a pathless
waste, but also that the character of a fruitful
soil may never entice us to the distractions of
cultivating it, whereby the mind would be re-
called from the chief service of the heart, and
rendered useless for spiritual aims.

CHAPTER XIII.

A story of a barber's payments, introduced for the sake of
recognizing the devil's illusions.

For as you hope that you can save others
also, and are eager to return to your country
with the hope of greater gain, hear also on this
subject a story of Abbot Macarius, very neatly
and prettily invented, which he also gave to a
man in a tumult of similar desires, to cure
him by a most appropriate story. "There
was," said he, " in a certain city a very clever
barber, who used to shave everybody for three
pence and by getting thi-s poor and wretched
sum for his work, out of this same amount used
to procure what was required for his daily
food, and after having taken all care of his
body, used every day to put a hundred pence
into' his pocket. But while he was diligently
amassing this gain, he heard that in a city a
long way off each man paid the barber a shil-
ling as his pay. And when he found this out,
' how long,' skid he, 'shall I be satisfied with
this beggary, so as to get with my labour a
pay of three pence, when by going thither I
might amass riches by a large gain of shil-
lings? ' And so at once taking with him the
implements of his art, and using up in the ex-
pense all that he had got together and saved
during a long time, he made his way with
great difficulty to that most lucrative city.
And there on' the day of his arrival, he re-
ceived from everyone the pay for his labour in
accordance with what he had heard, and at
eventide seeing that he had gained a large
number of shillings he went in delight to the
butcher's to buy the food he wanted for his
supper. And when he began to purchase it
■for a large sum of shillings he spent on a

tiny bit of meat all the .shillings that he had
gained, and did not take home a surplus of
even a single penny. And when he saw that
his gains were thus used up every day so that
he not only failed to put by anything but could
scarcely get what he required for his daily
food, he thought over the matter with himself
and said: 'I will go back to my city, and once
more seek those very moderate profits, from
which, when all my bodily wants were satis-
fied, a daily surplus gave a growing sum to
support my old age; which, though it seemed
small and trifling, yet by being constantly
increased was amounting to no slight sum. In
fact that gain of coppers was more profitable
to me than is this nominal one of shillings
from which not only is there nothing over to
be laid by, but the necessities of my daily
food are scarcely met. ' " And therefore it
is better for us with unbroken continuance
to aim at this very slender profit in the desert,
from which no secular cares, na worldly
distractions, no pride of vainglory and vanity
can detract, and which the pressure of no
daily w^ants can lessen (for '"a small thing
that the righteous hath is better than great
riches of the ungodly " ^) rather than to pursue
those larger profits which even if they are
procured by the most valuable conversion of
many, are yet absorbed by the claims of secu-
lar life and the daily leakage of distractions.
For, as Solomon says, " Better is a single
handful with rest than both hands full with
labour and vexation of mind." - And in these
allusions and inconveniences all that are at all
weak are sure to be entangled, as while they
are even doubtful of their own salvation, and
themselves stand in need of the teaching and
instruction of others, they are incited by the
devil's tricks to convert and guide others,
and as, even if they succeed in gaining any
advantage from the conversion of some, they
waste by their impatience and rude manners
whatever they have gained. For that will
happen to them which is described by the
prophet Haggai: '"And he that gathereth
riches, putteth them into a bag with holes.'" ^
For indeed a man puts his gains into a bag
with holes, if he loses by want of self con-
trol and daily distractions of mind whatever he
appears to gain by the conversion of others.
And so it results that while they fancy that
they can make larger profits by the instruction
of others, they are actually deprived of their
own improvement. For "There are who
make themselves out rich though possessing
nothing, and there are who humble them-
selves amid great riches; " and: " Better is a

1 Ps. xxxvi. (xxxvii.) i6. - Eccl. iv. 6. ^ Hag. i. 6.

538

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

man who serves himself in a humble station
than one who gains honour for himself and
vvanteth bread."" ^

CHAPTER XIV.

A question how such wrong notions can creep into us.

Germanus : Very aptly has your discussion
shown the error of these illusions by this il-
lustration: but we should like in the same
way to be taught its origin and how to cure it,
and we are equally anxious to learn how this
deception has taken hold of us. For every-
body must see that no one at all can apply
remedies to ill health except one who has
already diagnosed the actual origin of the
disease.

CHAPTER XV.

The answer on the threefold movement of the soul.

Abraham : Of all faults there is one source
and origin, but different names are assigned
to the passions and corruptions in accord-
ance with the character of that part, or mem-
ber, if I may so call it, which has been
injuriously affected in the soul: As is some-
times also shown by the case of bodily dis-
eases, in which though the cause is one and the
same, yet there is a division into different
kinds of maladies in accordance with the
nature of the member affected. For when the
violence of a noxious moisture has seized on
the body's citadel, i.e., the head, it brings
about a feeling of headache, but when it
affects the ears or eyes, it passes into the
malady of earache or ophthalmia: when it
spreads to the joints and the extremities of
the hands it is called the gout in the joints or
hands; but when it descends to the extremities
of the feet, its name is changed and it is
termed podagra : and the noxious moisture
which is originally one and the same is
described by as many names as there are se-
parate members which it affects. In the same
way to pass from visible to invisible things,
we should hold that the tendency to each fault
exists in the parts and, if I may use the ex-
pression, members of our soul. And, as some
very wise men have laid down that its powers
are threefold, either what is ^oyixov^ i.e., rea-
sonable, or Ovfuy.of, i.e., irascible, or im
Oviiriiixo'', i.e., subject to desire, is sure to
be troubled by some assault. When then the
force of noxious passion takes possession
of anyone by reason of these feelings, the

1 Prov. xiii. 7 ; xii. 9.

name of the fault is given to it in accordance
with the part aff'ected. For if the plague of
sin has infested its rational parts, it will
produce the sins of vainglory, conceit, envy,
pride, presumption, strife, heresy. If it has
wounded the irascible feelings, it will give
birth to rage, impatience, sulkiness, accidie,
pusillanimity and cruelty. If it has affected
that part which is subject to desire, it will be
the parent of gluttony, fornication, covet-
ousness, avarice, and noxious and earthly
desires.

CHAPTER XVI.

That the rational part of our soul is corrupt.

And therefore if you want to discover the
source and origin of this fault, you must
recognize that the rational part of your mind
and soul is corrupt, that part namely from
which the faults of presumption and vainglory
for the most part spring. Further this first
member, so to speak, of your soul must be
healed by the judgment of a right discretion
j and the virtue of humility, as when it is
j injured, while you fancy that 3'ou can not
' only still scale the heights of perfection but
actually teach others, and hold that you are
i capable and sufficient to instruct others,
through the pride of vainglory you are carried
away by these vain rovings, which your con-
fession discloses. And these you will then
be able to get rid of without difficulty, if you
are established as T said in the humility of
true discretion and learn with sorrow of heart
how hard and difficult a thing it is for each of
us to save his soul, and admit with the inmost
feelings of your heart that you are not only
far removed from that pride of teaching, but
that you are actually still in need of the help
of a teacher.

CHAPTER XVII.

How the weaker part of the soul is the first to yield to the
devil's temptations.

You should then apply to this member or
part of the soul which we have described as
particularly wounded, the .remedy of true
humility: for as, so far as appears, it is
weaker than the other powers of the soul in
you, it is sure to be the first to yield to the
assaults of the devil. As when some injuries
come upon us, which are caused either by toil
laid upon us or by a bad atmosphere, it is
generally the case in the bodies of men that
those which are the weaker are the first to
give in and yield to those chances, and when
the disease has more particularly laid hold

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

539

of them, it affects the sound parts of the body
also with the same mischief, so also, when
the pestilent blast of sin breathes over us
the soul of each one of us is sure to be
tempted above all by that passion, in the case
of which its feebler and weaker portion does
not make so stubborn a resistance to the pow-
erful attacks of the foe, and to run the risk of
beinj;; taken captive by those, in the case of
which a careless w-atch opens an easier way
to betrayal. For so Balaam ^ gathered that
God's people could be by a sure method
deceived, when he advised, that in that quar-
ter, wherein he knew that the children of:
Israel were weak, the dangerous snares should
be set for them, as he had no doubt that when
a supply of women was offered to them, they
would at once fall and be destroyed by forni-
cation, because he was aware that the parts of
their souls which were subject to desire were
corrupted. So then the spiritual wicked-
nesses tempt with crafty malice each one of
us, by particularly laying insidious snares for
those affections of the soul, in which they
have seen that it is weak, as for instance, if
they see that the reasonable parts of our soul
are affected, they try to deceive us in the
same way that the Scripture tells us that king
Ahab was deceived by those Syrians, who
said: "We know that the kings of Israel are
merciful: And so let us put sackcloth upon
our loins, and ropes round our heads, and go
out to the king of Israel, and say to him:
Thy servant Benhadad saith : I pray thee, let
my soul live." And thereby he was affected
by no true goodness, but by the empty praise
of his clemency, and said: " If he still liveth,
he is my brother; " and after this fashion they
can deceive us also by the error of that rea-
sonable part, and make us incur the displeas-
ure of God owing to that from which we were
hoping that we might gain a reward and re-
ceive the recompense of goodness, and to us
too the same rebuke may be addressed : " Be-
cause thou hast let go from thy hand a man
who was worthy of death, thy life shall be for
his life, and thy people for his people."'^ Or
when the unclean spirit says : " I will go forth,
and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all
his prophets,"^ he certainly spread the nets
of deception by means of the reasonable feel-
ing which he knew to be exposed to his deadly
wiles. And this also the same spirit expected
in the case of our Lord, when he tempted
Him in these three affections of the soul,
wherein he knew that all mankind had been
taken captive, but gained nothing by his crafty
wiles. For he approached that portion of his

mind which was subject to desire, when he
said: "Command tiiat these stones be made
bread;" the part subject to wrath, when he
tried to incite Him to seek the power of the '
present life and the kingdoms of this world;
the reasonable part when he said: ''If
Thou art the Son of God cast Thyself down
from hence."* And in these his deception
availed nothing for this reason because he
found that there was nothing damaged in
Him, in accordance with the supposition
which he had formed from a false idea.
Wherefore no part of His soul yielded when
tempted by the wiles of the foe, '" For lo," He
saith, "the prince of this world cometh and
shall find nothing in Me." ^

CHAPTER XVIII.

A question whether we should be drawn back to our countrj-
by a proper desire for greater silence.

Germanus : Among other kinds of illusions
and mistakes on our part, which by the vain
promise of spiritual advantages have fired us
with a longing for our country (as your holi-
ness has discovered by the keen insight of
your mind), this stands out as the principal
reason, that sometimes we are beset by our
brethren and cannot possibly continue in un-
broken solitude and continual silence, as we
should like. And by this the course and
measure of our daily abstinence, which we
always want to maintain undisturbed for the
chastening of our body, is sure to be inter-
fered with on the arrival of some of the breth-
ren. And this we certainly feel would never
happen in our own country, where it is im-
possible to find anyone, or scarcely anyone
who adopts this manner of life.

CHAPTER XIX.

The answer on the devil's illusion, because he promises us the
peace of a vaster solitude.

Abraham : Never to be resorted to by men
at all is a sign of an unreasonable and ill-
considered strictness, or rather of the great-
est coldness. For if a man walks in this way,
on which he has entered, with too slow steps,
and lives according to the former man, it is
right that none — I say not of the saints — but
of any men should visit him. But you, if you
are inflamed M-ith true and perfect love of our
Lord, and follow God, who indeed is love,
with entire fervour of spirit, are sure to be

1 Cf. Numb. xxiv. ' i Kings xx. 31, 32, 42. ^ • Kings xxii. 22.

4 S. Matt. iv. 3, 6.

5 S. John xiv. 30.

540

CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

resorted to by men, to whatever inaccessible
spot you may flee, and, in proportion as the
ardour of divine love brings you nearer to
God, so will a larger concourse of saintly
brethren flock to you. For, as the Lord says,
"A city set on an hill cannot be hid,"^ be-
cause "them that love Me," saith the Lord,
"will I honour, and they that despise Me
shall be contemned.'"^ But you ought to
know that this is the subtlest device of the
devil, this is his best concealed pitfall, into
which he precipitates some wretched and
heedless persons, so that, while he is pro-
mising them greater things, he takes away the
requisite advantages of their daily profit, by
persuading them that more remote and vaster
deserts should be sought, and by portraying
them in their heart as if they were sown with
marvellous delights. And further some un-
known and non-existent spots, he feigns to be
well-known and suitable and already given
over to our power and able to be secured
without any difficulty. The men also of that
country he feigns to be docile and followers
of the way of salvation, that, while he is
promising richer fruits for the soul there, he
may craftily destroy our present profits. For
when owing to this vain hope each one sepa-
rates himself from living together with the
Elders and has been deprived of all those
things that he idly imagined in his heart, he
rises as it were from a most profound slumber,
and when awake will find nothing of those
things of which he had dreamed. And so as
he is hampered by larger requirements for
this life and inextricable snares, the devil
will not even allow him to aspire to those
things which he had once promised himself,
and as he is liable no longer to those rare
and spiritual visits of the brethren which he
had formerly avoided, but to daily interrup-
tions from worldly folk, he will never suffer
him to return even to the moderate quiet and
svstem of the anchorite's life.

CHAPTER XX.

How useful is relaxation on the arrival of brethren.

That most refreshing interlude also of re-
laxation and courtesy, which sometimes is
wont to intervene because of the arrival of
brethren, although it may seem to us tiresome
and what we ought to avoid, yet how useful
it is and good for our bodies as well as our
souls you must patiently hear in few words.
It often happens I say not to novices and
weak persons but even to those of the greatest

> Cf. S. Matt. V. 14.

I Sam. ii. 30.

experience and perfection, that unless the
strain and tension of their mind is lessened
by the relaxation of some changes, they fall
either into coldness of spirit, or at any rate
into a most dangerous state of bodily health.
And therefore when there occur even frequent
visits from the brethren they should not only
be patiently put up with, but even gratefully
welcomed by those who are wise and perfect;
first because they stimulate us always to de-
sire with greater eagerness the retirement of
the desert (for somehow while they are thought
to impede our progress, they really maintain
it unwearied and unbroken, and if it was never
hindered by any obstacles, it would not endure
to the end with unswerving perseverance),
next because they give us the opportunity of
refreshing the bodv, together with the advan-
tages of kindness, and at the same time with
a most delightful relaxation of the body con^
fer on us greater advantage than those which
we should have gained by the weariness which
results from abstinence. On which matter I
will briefly give a most apt illustration
handed down in an old story.

CHAPTER XXL

How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of
relaxation.

It is said that the blessed John, while he
was gently stroking a partridge with his
hands suddenly saw a philosopher approaching
him in the garb of a hunter, who was aston-
ished that a man of so great fame and reputa-
tion should demean himself to such paltry
and trivial amusements, and said : "■ Can you
be that John, whose great and famous reputa-
tion attracted me also with the greatest desire
for your acquaintance? Why then do you
occupy yourself with such poor amusements?"
To whom the blessed John: "What is it," said
he, "that you are carrying in your hand?"
The other replied : "a bow." "And why," said
he, "do you not always carry it everpvhere
bent?" To whom the other replied: "It
would not do, for the force of its stiffness
would be relaxed by its being continually
bent, and it would be lessened and destroyed,
and when the time came for it to send stouter
arrows after some beast, its stiffness would be
lost by the excessive and continuous strain,
and it would be impossible for the more power-
ful bolts to be shot." "And, my lad," said
the blessed John, "do not let this slight and
short relaxation of my mind disturb you, as
unless it sometimes relieved and relaxed the
rigour of its purpose by some recreation, the

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

541

spirit would lose its spring owing to the un-
broken strain, and would be unable when
need required, implicitly to follow what was

right.'" 1

CHAPTER XXII.

A question liow we ought to understand what tlie gospel says :
" My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

Germanus : As you have given us a remedy
for all delusions, and by God's grace all the
wiles of the devil by which we were harassed,
have been exposed by your teaching, we beg
that you will also explain to us this that is
said in the gospel : " My yoke is easy, and My
burden is light." " For it seems tolerably op-
posed to that saying of the prophet where it is
said: "For the sake of the words of Thy lips
I kept hard ways;" while even the Apostle
says : " All who will live godly in Christ suffer
persecutions."^ But whatever is hard and
fraught with persecutions cannot be easy and
light.

CHAPTER XXIII.

The answer with the explanation of the saying.

Abraham : We can prove by the easy teach-
ing of our own experience that our Lord and
Saviour's saying is perfectly true, if we ap-
proach the way of perfection properly and in
accordance with Christ's will, and mortifying
all our desires, and cutting off injurious lik-
ings, not only allow nothing to remain with
us of this world's goods (whereby our adver-
sary would find at his pleasure opportunities
of destroying and damaging us) but actually
recognize that we are not our own masters,
and truly make our own the Apostle's words:
"I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me."*
For what can be burdensome, or hard to one
who has embraced with his whole heart the
yoke of Christ, who is established in true hu-
mility and ever fixes his eye on the Lord's
sufferings and rejoices in all the wrongs that
are offered to him, saying : " For which cause I
please myself in my infirmities, in reproaches,
in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses,
for Christ: for when I am weak, then am I
strong '* ? ^ By what loss of any common
thing, I ask, will he be injured, who boasts
of perfect renunciation, and voluntarily re-
jects for Christ's sake all the pomp of this
world, and considers all and every of its de-

' The story is quoted by S. Francis de Sales, The Devout Life,
and bv Dean (T.oulbourn, Personal Religion, Part III. c. x.
= S. Matt. xi. 30. •» Gal. ii. 20.

» Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 4; 2 Tim. iii. 12. ' 2 Cor. xii. 10.

sires as dung, so that he may gain Christ, and
by continual meditation on this command of
the gospel, scorns and gets rid of agitation at
every loss: "For what shall it profit a man
if he gain the whole world, but lose his own
soul.'' Or what shall a man give in exchange
for his soul ? " ° T'or the loss of what will he
be vexed, who recognizes that everything that
can be taken away from others is not their
own, and proclaims with unconquered valour:
"We brought nothing into this world: it is
certain that we cannot carry anything out " ? ''
By the needs of what want will his courage be
overcome, who knows how to do without *" scrip
for the way, money for the purse, "^ and, like
the Apostle, glories " in many fasts, in hunger
and thirst, in cold and nakedness " ? ^ What
effort, or what hard command of an Elder can
disturb the peace of his bosom, who has no
will of his own, and not only patiently but
even gratefully accepts what is commanded
him, and after the example of our Saviour,
seeks to do not his own will, but the Father's,
as He says Himself to His Father: "Never-
theless not as I will, but as Thou wilt " ? ^° By
what wrongs also, by what persecution will he
be frightened, nay, what punishment can fail
to be delightful to him, who always rejoices
together with apostles in stripes, and longs to
be counted worthy to suffer shame for the
name of Christ?

CHAPTER XXIV.

Why the Lord's yoke is felt grievous and His burden heavy.

But the fact that to us on the contrary the
yoke of Christ seems neither light nor easy,
must be rightly ascribed to our perverseness,
as we are cast down by unbelief and want of
faith, and fight with foolish obstinacy against
His command, or rather advice, who says:
" If thou wilt be perfect, go sell (or get rid of)
all that thou hast, and come follow Me," " for
we keep the substance of our worldly goods.
And as the devil holds our soul fast in the
toils of these, what remains but that, when he
wants to sever us from spiritual delights, he
should vex us by diminishing these and de-
priving us of them, contriving by his crafty
wiles that when the sweetness of His yoke
and lightness of His burden have become
grievous to us through the evil of a corrupt
desire, and when we are caught in the chains
of that very property and substance, which
we kept for our comfort and solace, he may

6 S. Matt. xvi. 26.
' I Tim. vi. 7.

8 S. Matt. X. 9, 10.

9 2 Cor. xi. 27.

'" S. Matt. xxvi. jg.
'I S. Matt. xix. 21.

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CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.

always torment us with the scourges of worldly
cares, extorting from us ourselves that where-
with we are tortured ? For " Each one is bound
by the cords of his own sins," and hears from
the prophet: "Behold all you that kindle a
fire, encompassed with flames, walk in the
light of your fire, and in the flames which you
have kindled." Since, as Solomon is witness,
" Each man shall thereby be punished, whereby
he has sinned."^ For the very pleasures
which we enjoy become a torment to us,
and the delights and enjoyments of this flesh,
turn like executioners upon their originator,
because one who is supported by his former
wealth and property is sure not to admit perfect
humility of heart, not entire mortification of
dangerous pleasures. But where all these im-
plements of goodness give their aid, there all
the trials of this present life, and whatever
losses the enemy can contrive, are endured
not only with the utmost patience, but with
real pleasure, and again when they are wanting
so dangerous a pride springs up that we are
actually wounded by the deadly strokes of
impatience at the slightest reproach, and it
may be said to us by the prophet Jeremiah :
■' And now what hast thou to do in the way of
Egypt, to drink the troubled water ? And what
hast thou to do with the way of the Assyrians,
to drink the water of the river? Thy own
wickedness shall reprove thee, and thy apos-
tasy shall rebuke thee. Know thou and see
that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee to
have left the Lord thy God, and that My fear
is not with thee, saith the Lord."^ How
then is it that the wondrous sweetness of the
Lord's yoke is felt to be bitter, but because the
bitterness of our dislike injures it? How is
it that the exceeding lightness of the Divine
burden becomes heavy, but because in our
obstinate presumption we despise Him by
whom it was borne, especially as Scripture it-
self plainly testifies to this very thing saying:
" For if they would walk in right paths, they
would certainly have found the paths of right-
eousness smooth "? ' It is plain, I say, that it
is we, who make rough with the nasty and hard
stones of our desires the right and smooth
paths of the Lord; who most foolishly forsake
the royal road made r.tony with the flints of
apostles and prophets, and trodden down by the
footsteps of all the saints and of the Lord Him-
self, and seek trackless and thorny places, and,
blinded by the allurements of present delights,
tear our way with torn legs and our wedding
garment rent, through dark paths, overrun with
the briars of sins, so as not only to be pierced

' Prov. V. 22 ; Isa. 1. ii ; Wisd. xi. 17.

- Jer. ii. 18, 19. ^ Prov. ii. 20.

by the sharp thorns of the brambles but actu-
ally laid low by the bites of deadly serpents
and scorpions lurking there. For "there are
thorns and thistles in wrong ways, but he
that feareth the Lord shall keep himself from
them."* Of such also the Lord says else-
where by the prophet : " My people have for-
gotten, sacrificing in vain, and stumbling in
their ways, in ancient paths, to walk in them
in a way not trodden."^ For according to
Solomon's saying: "The ways of those who
do not work are strewn with thorns, but the
ways of the lusty are trodden down."® And
thus wandering from the king's highway, they
can never arrive at that metropolis, whither
our course should ever be directed without
swerving. And this also Ecclesiastes has
pretty significantly expressed saying: "The
labour of fools wearies those who know not
how to go to the city;" viz., that "heavenly
Jerusalem, which is the mother of us all."'^
But whoever truly gives up this world and
takes upon him Christ's yoke and learns of
' Him, and is trained in the daily practice of
! suffering wrong, for He is "meek and lowly
of heart," ^ will ever remain undisturbed by
all temptations, and " all things will work
together for good to him. "^ For as the pro-
phet Obadiah says the words of God are
"good to him that walketh uprightly;" and
again : " For the ways of the Lord are right,
and the just shall walk in them; but the
transgressors shall fall in them."-"^

CHAPTER XXV.

Of the good which an attack of temptation brings about.

And so by the struggle with temptation
the kindly grace of the Saviour bestows on us
larger rewards of praise than if it had taken
away from us all need of conflict. For it
is a mark of a loftier and grander virtue to
remain ever unmoved when hemmed in by
persecutions and trials, and to stand faithfully
and courageously at the ramparts of God, and
in the attacks of men, girt as it were with the
arms of unconquered virtue, to triumph glori-
ously over impatience and somehow to gain
strength out of weakness, for "strength is
made perfect in weakness." "For behold I
I have made thee." saith the Lord, "a pillar of
j iron and a wall of brass, over all the land, to
, the kings of Judah, and the princes and the

* Prov. xxii. 5.

'• Jer. xviii. 15.

" Prov. XV. ig.

' Eccl. X. 15 (LXX.); G.il. iv. 26.

' S. Matt. xi. 29.
" Rom. viii. 28.
'" Micah li. 7 ; Hos. xiv. 10.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

543

priests thereof, and all the people of the
land. And they shall fight against thee and
shall not prevail: for I am with thee to deli-
ver thee, saith the Lord." ^ Therefore accord-
ing to the plain teaching of the Lord the
king's highway is easy and smooth, though it
may be felt as hard and rough : for those who
piously and faithfully serve Him, when they
have taken upon them the yoke of the Lord,
and have learnt of Him, that He is meek and
lowly of heart, at once somehow or other lay
aside the burden of earthly passions, and find
no labour but rest for their souls, by the gift
of the Lord, as He Himself testifies by Jere-
miah the prophet, saying: "Stand ye on the
ways and see, and ask for the old paths, which
is the good way, and walk ye in it: and you
shall find refreshment for your souls." For
to them at once "the crooked shall become
straight and the rough ways plain ; " and they
shall "taste and see that the Lord is gra-
cious,"'^ and when they hear Christ proclaim-
ing in the gospel: "Come unto Me all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
refresh you," they will lay aside the burden
of their sins, and realize what follows: "For
My yoke is easy, and My burden is' light." ^
The way of the Lord then has refreshment if it
is kept to according to His law. But it is we
who by troublesome distractions bring sorrows
and troubles upon ourselves, while we try
even with the utmost e.xertion and difficulty
to follow the crooked and perverse ways of
this world. But when in this way we have
made the Lord's yoke heavy and hard to us,
we at once complain in a blasphemous spirit
of the hardness and roughness of the yoke
itself or of Christ who lays it upon us, in
accordance with this passage: "The folly of
man corrupteth his w^ays, but he blames God
in his heart;"'' and as Haggai the prophet
says, when we say that " the way of the Lord
is not right " the reply is aptly made to us by
the Lord: "Is not My way right? Are not
your ways rather crooked ? " ^ And indeed if
you will compare the sweet scented flower of
virginity, and tender purity of chastity to the
foul and fetid sloughs of lust, the calm and
securitv of monks to the dangers and losses in
which 'the men of this world are involved,
the peace of our poverty to the gnawing vex-
ations and anxious cares of riches, in which
they are night and day consumed not without
the utmost peril to life, then you will prove
that the yoke of Christ is most easy and His
burden most light.

1 Jer. i. .8, iQ. 2 Jer. vi. i6; Isa. xl. 4 ! Ps. xxxiii (xxxiv.)9.

= S. Matt. xi. 28-30. 5 Kzek. xviii. 25 (LXX.).

* Prov. xix. 3 (LXX.).

CHAPTER XXVL

Mow the promise of an hundredfold in this life is made to those
whose renunciation is perfect.

FuRrnER also that recompense of reward,
wherein the Lord promises an hundredfold
in this life to those whose renunciation is
perfect, and says: "And everyone that hath
left house or brethren or sisters or father or
mother or wife or children or lands for My
name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold in
the present time and shall inherit eternal
life,"'' is rightly and truly taken in the same
sense without any disturbance of faith. For
many taking occasion by this saying, insist
with crass intelligence that these things will
be given carnally in the millennium, though
they must certainly admit that that age,
which' they say will be after the resurrection
cannot possibly be understood as present. It
is then more credible and much clearer that
one, who at the persuasion of Christ has
made light of any worldly affections or goods,
receives from the brethren and partners of his
life, who are joined to him by a spiritual tie,
even in this life a love which is an hundred
times better: since it is certain that among
parents and children and brothers, wives and
relations, where either the tie is merely
formed by intercourse, or the bond of union
by the claims of relationship, the love is tol-
erably short lived and easily broken. Finally
even good and duteous children when they
have grown up, are sometimes shut out by
their parents from their homes and property,
and sometimes for a really good reason the tie
of matrimony is severed, and a quarrelsonie
division destroys the property of brothers.
Monks alone maintain a lasting union in in-
timacy, and possess all things in common,
as they hold that everything that belongs to
their brethren is their own, and that every-
thing which is their own is their brethren's.
If then the grace of our love is compared to
those affections where the bond of union is a
carnal love, certainly it is an hundred times
sweeter and finer. There will indeed also be
gained from conjugal continence a pleasure
that is an hundred times greater than that
which arises from the union of the sexes. And
instead of that joy, which a man experiences
from the possession of a single field or house,
he will enjoy a delight in riches a hundred
times greater, if he passes over to the adop-
tion of sons of God, and possesses as his own
all things which belong to the eternal Father,
and asserts in heart and soul after the fash-

« S. Matt. xix. 29.

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ion of that true Son: "All things that the
Father hath are mine;"-' and if no longer
tried by that criminal anxiety in distractions
and cares, but free from care and glad at heart,
he succeeds everywhere to his own, hearing
daily the announcement made to him by the
Apostle: "For all things are yours, whether
the world, or things present, or things to
come;" and by Solomon: "The faithful man
has a whole world of riches."" You have
then that recompense of an hundredfold
brought out by the greatness of the value, and
the difference of the character that cannot be
estimated. For if for a fixed weight of brass
or iron or some still commoner metal, one had
given in exchange the same weight only in
gold, he would appear to have given much
more than an hundredfold. And so when for
the scorn of delights and earthly affections
there is made a recompense of spiritual joy
and the gladness of a most precious love, even
if the actual amount be the same, yet it is an
hundred times better and grander. And to
make this plainer by frequent repetition: I
used formerly to have a wife in the lustful
passion of desire: I now have one in honour-
able sanctification and the true love of Christ.
The woman is but one, but the value of the
love has increased an hundredfold. But if
instead of distrusting anger and wrath you
have regard to constant gentleness and pa-
tience, instead of the stress of anxiety and
trouble, peace and freedom from care, instead
of the fruitless and criminal vexation of this
world the salutary fruits of sorrow, instead of
the vanity of temporal joy the richness of
spiritual delights, you will see in the change
of these feelings a recompense of an hundred-
fold. And if we compare with the short-
lived and fleeting pleasure of each sin the
benefits of the opposite virtues the increased
delights will prove that these are an hundred
times better. For in counting on your fingers
you transfer the number of an hundred from
the left hand to the right and though you
seem to keep the same arrangement of the
fingers yet there is a great increase in the
amount of the quantity.^ For the result will
be that we who seemed to bear the form of
the goats on the left hand, will be removed
and gain the reward of the sheep on the right
hand. Now let us pass on to consider the
nature of those things which Christ gives back
to us in this world for our scorn of worldly
advantages, more particularly according to

1 S. John xvi. 15. 2 i Cor. iii. 22 ; Prov. xvii. 6 (LXX.).

3 The passage alludes to the practice of countinc; on the fingers,
in which all the tens up to ninety were reckoned on the fingers of
the left hand, but with the number of a hundred the reckoning be-
gan with the same arrangement of the fingers, on tlie right Iiand.
S. Jerome has a similar allusion to the practice in his work against
Jovinian I. i. and compare also Juvenal Satire. X. I. 247, 248.

the Gospel of . Mark who says: "There is no
man who hath left house or brethren or sisters
or mother or children or lands for My sake
and the gospel's sake, who shall not receive
an hundred times as much now in this time:
houses and brethren and sisters and mothers
and children and lands, with persecutions,
and in the world to come life eternal."^ For
he who for the sake of Christ's name disre-
gards the love of a single father or mother or
child, and gives himself over to the purest
love of all who serve Christ, will receive an
hundred times the amount of brethren and
kinsfolk; since instead of but one he will
begin to have so many fathers and brethren
bound to him by a still more fervent and ad-
mirable affection. He also will be enriched
with an increased possession of lands, who
has given up a single house for the love
of Christ, and possesses countless homes in
monasteries as his own, to whatever part of
the world he may retire, as to his own house.
For how can he fail to receive an hundred-
fold, and, if it is not wrong to add somewhat
to our Lord's words, more than an hundred-
fold, who gives up the faithless and compul-
sory service of ten or twenty slaves and relies
on the spontaneous attendance of so many
noble and free born men? And that this is
so you could prove by your own experience,
as since you have each left but one father and
mother and home, you have gained without
any effort or care, in any part of the world to
which you have come, countless fathers and
mothers and brethren, as well as houses and
lands and most faithful servants, who receive
you as their masters, and welcome, and re-
spect, and take care of you with the utmost
attention. But, I say that deservedly and
confidently will the saints enjoy this service,
if they have first submitted themselves and
everything they have by a voluntary offering
for the service of the brethren. For, as the
Lord says, they will freely receive back that
which they themselves have bestowed on
others. But if a man has not first offered
this with true humility to his companions,
how can he calmly endure to have it offered to
him by others, when he knows that he is bur-
dened rather than helped by their services,
because he prefers to receive attention from
the brethren rather than to give it to them ?
But all these things he will receive not with
careless slackness and a la;cy delight, but,
in accordance with the Lord's word, "with
persecutions," i.e., with the pressure of this
world, and terrible distress from his passions,
because, as the wise man testifies: "He who
is easy going and without trouble shall come

* S. Mark x. 29, 30.

CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM.

545

to want.'"^ For not the slothful, or the care-
less, or the delicate, or the tender take the
kingdom of heaven by force, but the violent.
Who then are the violent? Surely they are
those who show a splendid violence not to
others, but to their own soul, who by a laud-
able force deprive it of all delights in things
present, and are declared by the Lord's mouth
to be splendid plunderers, and by rapine of
this kind, violently seize upon the kingdom
of heaven. For, as the Lord says, "The
kingdom of heaven suffereth violence and the
violent take it by force." " Those are certainly
worthy of praise as violent, who do violence
to their own destruction, for, "A man," as it
is written, "that is in sorrow laboureth for
himself and does violence to his own destruc-
tion."^ For our destruction is delight in this
present life, and to speak more definitely,
the performance of our own likes and desires,
as, if a man withdraws these from his soul
and mortifies them, he straightway does glori-
ous and valuable violence to his own destruc-
tion, provided that he refuses to it the pleas-
antest of its wishes which the Divine word
often rebukes by the prophet, saying: "For
in the days of your fast your own will is
found;" and again: "If thou turn away thy
foot from the Sabbath, to do thy will on My
holy day, and glorify him, while thou dost
not thy own ways, and thy own will is not
found, to speak a word." And the great
blessedness that is promised to him is at once
added by the prophet. "Then," he says,
" shalt thou be delighted in the Lord, and I
wall lift thee up above the high places of the
earth, and will feed thee with the inheritance
of Jacob thy father. For the mouth of the
Lord hath spoken it. " * And therefore our
Lord and Saviour, to give us an example of
giving up our own wills, says: " I came not to
do My ow-n will, but the will of Him that sent
Me;" and again: " Not as I will, but as Thou
wilt."^ And this good quality those men in
particular show who live in the ccenobia and
are governed by the rule of the Elders, who
do nothing of their own choice, but their
will depends upon the will of the Abbot. Fi-
nally to bring this discussion to a close, I ask
you, do not those who faithfully serve Christ,
most clearly receive grace an hundredfold in
this, while for His name's sake they are
honoured by the greatest princes, and though
they do not look for the praise of men, yet
become venerated in the trials of persecution

1 Prov. xiv. 23 (LXX.). * Isa. Iviii. 3, 13, 14.

2 S. Matt. xi. 12. ^ S. John vi. 38; S. Matt. xxvi. 39.

3 Prov. xiv. 26 (LXX.).

whose humble condition would perhaps have
been looked down upon even by common folk,
either because of their obscure birth, or
because of their condition as slaves, if they
had continued in their life in the world.''
But because of the service of Christ no one
will venture to raise a calumny against their
state of nobility, or to fling in their teeth the
obscurity of their origin. Nay rather, through
the very opprobrium of a humble condition by
which others are shamed and confounded, the
servants of Christ are more splendidly en-
nobled, as we can clearly show by the case of
Abbot John who lives in the desert which
borders on the town of Lycus. For he sprang
from obscure parents, but owing to the name
of Christ has become so well known to almost
all mankind that the very lords of creation,
who hold the reins of this world and of em-
pire, and. are a terror to all powers and kings,
venerate him as their lord, and from distant
countries seek his advice, and entrust to his
prayers and merits the crown of their empire,
and the state of safety, and the fortunes of
war.®

In such terms the blessed Abraham dis-
coursed on the origin of and remedy for our
illusion, and exposed to our eyes the crafty
thoughts which the devil had originated and
suggested, and kindled in us the desire of
true mortification, wherewith we hope that
mg.ny also hiay be inflamed, even though all
these things have been written in a somewhat
simple style. For though the dying embers
of our words cover up the glowing thoughts
of the greatest fathers, yet we hope that in the
case of very many who try to remove the em-
bers of our words and to fan into a flame the
hidden thoughts, their coldness will be turned
into heat. But, O holy brethren, I have not
indeed been so puffed up by the spirit of pre-
sumption as to give forth to you this fire
(which the Lord came to send upon the earth,
and which He eagerly longs to kindle " ) in
order that by the application of this warmth I
might set on fire your purpose which is already
at a white heat, but in order that your au-
thority with your children might be greater,
if in addition the precepts of the greatest and
most ancient fathers support w^hat you are
teaching not by the dead sound of words but
by your living example. It only remains that
I who have been till now tossed about by a
most dangerous tempest, should be wafted to
the safe harbour of silence by the spiritual
gales of your prayers.

6 Cf. the note on the Institutes IV. xxiii. 7 Cf. S. Luke xii. 49.

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN

ON THE

INCARNATION OF THE LORD, AGAINST NESTORIUS,

PREFACE.

When I had now finished the books of Spiritual Conferences, the merit of which consists
in the thoughts expressed rather than in the language used (since my rude utterances were
unequal to the deep thoughts of the saints), I had contemplated and almost determined on
taking refuge in silence (as I was ashamed of having exposed my ignorance) that I might as
far as possible make up for my audacity in speaking by modestly holding my tongue for the
future. But you have overcome my determination and purpose by your commendable earnest-
ness and most urgent affection, my dear Leo, my esteemed and highly regarded friend, orna-
ment that you are of the Roman Church and sacred ministry,^ as you drag me forth from the
obscurity of the silence on which I had determined, into a public court which I may well
dread, and oblige me to undertake new labours while I am still blushing for my past ones.
And though I was unequal to lesser tasks, you compel me to match myself with greater ones.
For even in those trifling works, in which of our small ability we offered some small offering
to the Lord, I would never have attempted to do or apply myself to anything unless I had
been led to it by Episcopal command. And so through you there has been an increase of
importance both of our subject and of our language. For whereas before we spoke, when
bidden, of the business of the Lord, you now require us to speak of the actual Incarnation
and glory of the Lord Himself. And so we who were formerly brought as it were into the
holy place of the temple by priestly hands, now penetrate under your guidance and protection,
so to speak, into the holy of holies. Great is the honour but most perilous the undertaking,"'^
because the prize of the holy sanctuary and the divine reward can only be secured by a vic-
tory over our foe. And so you require and charge us to raise our feeble hands against a
fresh heresy and a new enemy of the faith,^ and that we should take our stand, so to speak,
against the awful open-moutheci gapings of the deadly serpent, that at my summons the
power of prophecy and the divine force of the gospel word may destroy the dragon now rising
up with sinuous course against the Churches of God. I obey your intreaty : I yield to your
command : for I had rather trust in my own matters to you than to myself, especially as the
love of Jesus Christ my Lord commands me this as well as you, for He Himself gives me this
charge in your person. For in this matter you are more concerned than I am, as your judg-
ment stands in peril rather than my duty. For in my case, whether I prove equal to what
you have commanded me or no, the very fact of my obedience and humility will be in some
degree an excuse for me ; if indeed I might not urge that there is more value in my obedi-
ence, if there is less that I can do. For we easily comply with any one's orders, out of our
abundance : but his is a great and wonderful work, whose desires exceed his powers. Yours
then is this work and business, and yours it is to be ashamed of it. Pray and intreat that
your choice may not be discredited by my clumsiness ; and that, supposing we do not answer
the expectations which you have formed of us, you may not seem to have been wrong in
commanding out of an ill-considered determination, while I was right in yielding, owing to
the claims of obedience.

1 Mi Leo, veneranda ac suscipiendei caritas 7>ierz, Rontan<e ecclesice ac diz'ini minisierii ^irf7« (Petschenig). Gennadius (De Vir.
lUust. c. Ixi.) tells us of Cassian, that " finally at the request of Leo, then archdeacon of Rome and afterwards Bishop, he wrote seven
books against Nestorius on the Incarnation of the Lord, and thus brought to a close his literary labours at Marseilles, as well as his life,
in the reign of Theodosiiis and Valentinian. The date of the work must have been a.d. 430, shortly before the Council of Ephesus.

- /"r^M/o (Petschenig): Progressio (Gdo.'sws').

3 Nestorius had been consecrated Bishop of Constantinople in a.d. 428, and very shortly afterwards joined Anastasius in the denial
that God could be born of a woman, and developed the heresy associated with his name.

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN

ON THE

INCARNATION OF THE LORD, AGAINST NESTORIUS.

BOOK I.

CHAPTER I.

The heresy compared to the hydra of the poets. i

The tales of poets tell us that of old the
hydra when its heads were cut off gained by
its injuries, and sprang up more abundantly:
so that owing to a miracle of a strange and
unheard-of kind, its loss proved a kind of gain
to the monster which was thus increased
by death, while that extraordinary fecundity
doubled everything which the knife of the
executioner cut off, until the man who was
eagerly seeking its destruction, toiling and
sweating, and finding his efforts so often
baffled by useless labours, added to the cour-
age of battle the arts of craft, and by the
application of fire, as they tell us, cut off
with a fiery sword the manifold offspring of
that monstrous body; and so when the inward
parts were thus burnt, by cauterizing the re-
bellious throbbings of that ghastly fecundity,
at length those prodigious births were brought
to an end. Thus also heresies in the churches
bear some likeness to that hydra which the
poets' imagination invented; for ///,?>' too hiss
against us with deadly tongues; and they too
cast forth their deadly poison, and spring up
again when their heads are cut off. But be-
cause the medicine should not be wanting
when the disease revives, and because the
remedy should be the more speedy as the
sickness is the more dangerous, our Lord
God is able to bring to pass that that may
be a truth in the church's warfare, which
Gentile fictions imagined of the death of the
hydra, and that the fiery sword of the Holy
Spirit may cauterize the inward parts of that

' Petschenig'5 text gives no titles to the chapters in this work.
They are added here from the text of Gazius.

most dangerous birth, in the new heresy to
be put down, so that at last its monstrous
fecundity may cease to answer to its dying
throbs.

CHAPTER II.

Description of the different heretical monsters which spring
from one another.

For these shoots of an unnatural seed are
no new thing in the churches. The harvest
of the Lord's field has always had to put up
with burrs and briars, and in it the shoots of
choking tares have constantly sprung up.
For hence have arisen the Ebionites, Sabel-
lians, Arians, as well as Eunomians and
Macedonians, and Photinians and Apolli-
narians, and all the other tares of the churches,
and thistles which destroy the fruits of good
faith. And of these the earliest was Ebion,^
who while over-anxious about asserting our
Lord's humanity^ robbed it of its union with
Divinity. But after him the schism of Sabel-
lius burst forth out of reaction against the
above mentioned heresy, and as he declared
that there was no distinction between the
Father, Son and Holy Ghost, he impiously
confounded, as far as was possible, the Per-
sons, and failed to distinguish the holy and
ineffable Trinity. Next after him whom we
have mentioned there folk)wed the blasphemy
of Arian perversity, whicn, in order to avoid
the appearance of confounding the Sacred Per-
sons, declared that there were different and

' Tlie earliest writer to allude to an " Ebion " as the supposed
founder of the Ebionites is Tertullian (Pr^cscriptio c. xxxiii.). He
is followed in this by Epiphanius (I. xxx.); Rufiiuis (In Symb.
Apost. c. xxxix.). and others; but the existence of such a person is
more than doubtful, and the name is now generally believed to have
been derived from the Hebrew " Ebhion "=poor.

3 Incarnatio.

551

552

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

dissimilar substances in the Trinity. But
after him in time though like him in wicked-
ness came Eunomius, who, though allowing
that the Persons of the Holy Trinity were di-
vine and like ^ each other, yet insisted that they
were separate from each other; and so while
admitting their likeness denied their equality.
Macedonius also blaspheming against the Holy
Ghost with unpardonable wickedness, while
allowing that the Father and the Son were
of one substance, termed the Holy Ghost a
creature, and so sinned against the entire
Divinity, because no injury can be offered to
anything in the Trinity without affecting the
entire Trinity. But Photinus, though allow-
ing that Jesus who was born of the Virgin was
God, yet erred in his notion that His Godhead
began with the beginning of His manhood;^
while ApoUinaris through inaccurately con-
ceiving the union of God and man wrongly
believed that He was without a human soul.
For it is as bad an error to add to our Lord
Jesus Christ what does not belong to Him as
to rob Him of that which is His. For where'
He is spoken of otherwise than as Pie is —
even though it seems to add to His glory — yet
it is an offence. And so one after another out
of reaction against heresies they give rise to
heresies, and all teach things different from
each other, but equally opposed to the faith.
And just lately also, i.e., in our own days, we
saw a most poisonous heresy spring up from
the greatest city of the Belgee, ^ and though
there was no doubt about its error, yet there
was a doubt about its name, because it arose

^ Cassian's statement here is scarcely accurate, as Eunomius is
best known from his bold assertion that the Son was unlike
(ai'dnoioi') to the Father.

2 Photinus, the pupil of Marcellus of Ancyra, appears to have
taught a form of Sabellianism, teaching that Christ Himself, the
Son of God, had not existed from all eternity but only from the
time when He became the Son of God and Christ ; viz., at
the Incarnation.

3 Et mrtxima Belgarum urbe (Petschenig). Gazseus edits :
Et maxime Beligarum iirbe. The city must be Treves, and the
allusion is to the heresy of Leporius, which was an outcome of
Pela.cianism. Leporius was apparently a native of Treves, who
propagated Pelagian views in Gaul, ascribing his virtues to his own
free will and his own strength ; and going to far greater lengths than
his master in that he connected this doctrine of human sufficiency
■with heretical views on the Incarnation ; thus combining Pelagianism
with what was practically Nestoriaiiism, teaching that Jesus was a
mere man who had used His free will so well as to have lived with-
out sin, and had only been made Christ in virtue of His Baptism,
whereby the Divine and Human were associated so as virtually to
make two Christs. He taught further that the only object of His
coming into the world was to exhibit to mankind an example of
virtue ; and that if they chose to profit by it they also might be
without sin. For these errors he was rebuked by Cassian and
others in Gaul, and on his refusal to abandon them was formally
censured by Proculiis liishop of l\Jarseilles and Cylinnius (Bishop
of Frejus?). He then left Gaul and came to Africa, where he
was convinced by Augustine of the erroneous character of his
teaching, and under his influence signed a recantation, which was
perhaps drawn up by Augustine himself, and from which Cassian
quotes below (c. v.). This recantation was read in the Church of
Carthage, and subscribed by four bishops as witnesses (including
Augustine). It was then sent to the Gallican P.ishops accompanied
by a letter from the four attesting bishops (Epp. August, no. ccxxix.)
commending the treatment which Leporius had previously received,
but recommending him once more to their favour as having retracted
his errors. See further Fleury H. E. Book XXIV. c. xlix. and
Dictionary of Christian Biography, Art. Leporius.

with a fresh head from the old stock of the
Ebionites, and so it is still a question whether
it ought to be called old or new. For it was
new as far as its upholders were concerned ; but
old in the character of its errors. Indeed it
blasphemously taught that our Lord Jesus
Christ was born as a mere man, and main-
tained that the fact that He afterwards obtained
the glory and power of the Godhead resulted
from Pi is human worth and not from His
Divine nature; and by this it taught that He
had not always His Divinity by the right of
His very own Divine nature which belonged
to Him, but that Pie obtained it afterwards as
a reward for His labours and sufferings.
Whereas then it blasphemously taught that
our Lord and Saviour was not God at His
birth, but was subsequently taken into the
Godhead, it was indeed bordering on this
heresy which has now sprung up, and is as it
were its first cousin and akin to it, and, har-
monizing both with Ebionism and these new
ones, came in point of time between them, and
was linked with them both in point of wicked-
ness. And although there are some others
like those which we have mentioned yet it
would take too long to describe them all.
Nor have we now undertaken to enumerate
those that are dead and gone, but to refute
those which are novel.

CHAPTER IIP

He describes the pestilent error of the Pelagian.

At any rate we think that this fact ought
not to be omitted, which was special and
peculiar to that heresy mentioned above
which sprang from the error of Pelagius; viz.,
that in saying that Jesus Christ had lived as
a mere man without any stain of sin, they
actually went so far as to declare that men
could also be without sin if they liked. For
they imagined that it followed that if Jesus
Christ being a mere man was without sin, all
men also could without the help of God be
whatever He as a mere man without partici-
pating in the Godhead, could be. And so
they made out that there was no difference
between any man and our Lord Jesus Christ,
as any man could by effort and striving
obtain just the same as Christ had obtained
by His earnestness and efforts. Whence it
resulted that they broke out into a more griev-
ous and unnatural madness, and said that
our Lord Jesus Christ had come into this
world not to bring redemption to mankind
but to give an example of good wojks, to wit,
that men, by following His teaching, and by

BOOK I.

553

walking along the same path of virtue, might
arrive at the same reward of virtue : thus de-
stroying, as far as they could, all the good of
His sacred advent and all the grace of Divine
redemption, as they declared that men could
by their own lives obtain just that which
God had wrought by dying for man's salvation.
They added as well that our Lord and Sav-
iour became the Christ after His Baptism,
and God after His Resurrection, tracing the
former to the mystery of His anointing, the
latter to the merits of His Passion. Whence
this new author^ of a heresy that is not new,
who declares that our Lord and Saviour was
born a mere man, observes that he says ex-
actly the same thing which the Pelagians said
before him, and allows that it follows from
his error that as he asserts that our Lord
Jesus Christ lived as a mere man entirely
without sin, so he must maintain in his blas-
phemy that all men can of themselves be
without sin, nor would he admit that our
Lord's redemption \Vas a thing needful for
His example, since men can (as they say)
reach the heavenly kingdom by their own ex-
ertions. Nor is there any doubt about this,
as the . thing itself shows us. For hence it
comes that he encourages the complaints of
the Pelagians by his intervention, and intro-
duces their case into his writings, because he
cleverly or (to speak more truly) cunningly
patronizes them and by his wicked liking for
them recommends their mischievous teaching
which is akin to his own, for he is well aware
that he is of the same opinion and of the
same spirit, and therefore is distressed that
a heresy akin to his own has been cast out of
the church, as he knows that it is entirely
allied to his own in wickedness.

CHAPTER IV.

Leporius together with some others recants his Pelagianism.

But still as those who were the outcome of
this stock of pestilent thorns have already by
the Divine help and goodness been healed,
we should 'also now pray to our Lord God
that as in some points that older heresy and
this new one are akin to each other, He
would grant a like happy ending to those
which had a like bad beginning. For Lepo-
rius, then a monk, now a presbyter, who fol-
lowed the teaching or rather the evil deeds of
Pelagius, as we said above, and was among
the earliest and greatest champions of the
aforesaid heresy in Gaul, was admonished by

1 Xestorius.

us and corrected by God, and so nobly con-
demned his former erroneous persuasion that
his aniendment was almost as much a matter
for congratulation as is the unimpaired faith
of many. For it is the best thing never to
fall into error: the second best thing to make
a good repudiation of it. He then coming to
himself confessed his mistake with grief but
without shame not only in Africa, where he
was then and is now,- but also gave to all the
cities of Gaul penitent letters containing his
confession and grief; in order that his return
to the faith might be made known where his
deviation from it had been first published,
and that those who had formerly been wit-
nesses of his error might also afterwards be
witnesses of his amendment.

CHAPTER V.

By the case of Leporius he establishes the fact that an open
sin ought to be expiated by an open confession ; and also
teaches from his words wliat is the right view to be held on
the Incarnation.

And from his confession or rather lamenta-
tion we have thought it well to quote some
part, for two reasons: that their recantation
might be a testimony to us, and an example
to those who are weak, and that they might
not be ashamed to follow in their amendment,
the men w-hom they were not ashamed to fol-
low in their error ; and that they might be
cured by a like remedy as they suffered from
a like disease. He then acknowledging the
perverseness of his views, and seeing the
light of faith, wrote to the Galilean Bishops,
and thus began : ^ "I scarcely know, O my
most venerable lords and blessed priests, what
first to accuse myself of, and what first to ex-
cuse myself for. Clumsiness and pride and
foolish ignorance together with wrong notions,
zeal combined with indiscretion, and (to speak
truly) a weak faith which was gradually failing,
all these were admitted bv me and flourished
to such an extent that I am ashamed of hav-
ing yielded to such and so many sins, while

2 The after history o{ Leporius appears to have been this.
Having come under Augustine's influence, he was persuaded by him
to give up all his property, and renounce the temporal care of a
monastery which he had previously founded in a garden at Hippo :
where also he had begun to build a xenodochium or hcuse of refuge
for strangers, partly at his own expense, and partly out of the alms
of the faithful. He also at Aucjustine's suggestion, built a church
in memory of the "eight martyrs" (see Aug. Serm. 356). This
complete renunciation of the world must have taken place about 425 ;
and in the following year we find that he was present at the election
01 Eraclius to succeed Aujustine (Aug, Ep. 213) : but subsequent
to this nothing is known of his histon,' except that he was still living
wlien Cassian wrote. It is right to mention that doubts have been
raised by Tillemont whether the presbyter of Hippo is identical
with the quondam heretic, but on scarcely sufficient grounds.

' The recantation of Leporius may be found in the Bibliotheca
Maxima Patrum. vol. vii. p. 14; Labbe, Concilia, ii. p. 1678; and
Migne Patrol. Lat. xxxi. p. 1221.

554

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

at the same time I am profoundly thankful for
having been able to cast them out of my soul.'"'
And after a little he adds: "If then, not
understanding this power of God, and wise in
our conceits and opinions, from fear lest God
should seem to act a part that was beneath H im,
W2 suppose that a man was born in conjunction
with God, in such a w-ay that we ascribe to
God alone w'hat belongs to God separately, and
attribute to man alone what belongs to man
separately, we clearly add a fourth Person to
the Trinity and out of the one God the Son
begin to make not one but two Christs ; from
which may our Lord and God Jesus Christ
Himself preserve us. Therefore we confess
that our Lord and God Jesus Christ the only
Son of God, who for His own sake-' was be-
gotten of the Father before all worlds, when
in time He was for our sakes' made man of
the Holy Ghost and the ever-virgin Mary,
was God at His birth; and while we confess
the two substances of the flesh and the Word,"
we always acknowledge with pious belief and
faith one and the same Person to be indivisi-
bly God and man ; and we say that from the
time when He took upon Him flesh all that
belonged to God was given to man, as all that
belonged to man was joined to God.^ And
in this sense ' the Word was made flesh : ' ^ not
that He began by any conversion or change
to be what He was not, but that by the Divine
'economy ' the Word of the Father never left
the Father,^ and yet vouchsafed to become
truly man, and the Only Begotten was incar-
nate through that hidden mystery which He
alone understands (for it is ours to believe:
His to understand). And thus God ' the
Word ' Himself receiving everything that be-
longs to man, is made man, and the manhood*^
which is assumed, receiving everything that
belongs to God cannot but be God; but
whereas He is said to be incarnate and un-
mixed, we must not hold that there is any

1 Sibi . . . jwbh.

2 Caro and Verbunt when used in this way stand for the Hu-
manity and the Divinity of Christ.

' The meaning of course is not tliat the manhood was endowed
with the properties of Deity, or conversely the Deity with the pro-
perties of Humanity, but simply that two -aiJiole and perfect natures
were joined together iu the one Person.

* S. JoI)n i. 14.

6 This phrase gives some countenance to the idea that the recan-
tation was actually drawn up by Augustine, as the thought which it
contains is a favorite one with him, as excluding any notion that
Christ ever for one moment ceased to be God. See Serm. 184.
" Intelligerent . . . Eum ... in homine ad nos venisse et a Patre
non recessisse." 186 " manens quod erat." Similar language is
used by .S. Leo, Serm. i8. c. 5. In Natio. 2. c. 2. and S. Thomas
Aquinas in the well-known Sacramental hymn " Verbum supernum
prodiens. Nee Patris linquens dexteram." Cf. Bright's S. Leo on
tlie Incarnation, p. 220.

" Homo is here used as frequently by Augustine and other early
writers for " Manhood," and not an "individual man." In this
way it was freely used till the Nestorian Controversy, after which
it went out of favour as capable of a Nestorian interpretation, and
gave place to " humanitas " or " humana natura," when the man-
hood of Christ was spoken of. See the Church Quarterly Review,
vol. xviii. p. 10; and Bright's S. Leo on the Incarnation, p. 165.

diminution of His substance: for God knows
how to communicate Himself without suffer-
ing any corruption, and yet truly to commu-
nicate Himself. He knows how to receive
into Himself without Himself being increased
I thereby, just as He knows how to impart
Himself in such a way as Himself to suffer
no loss. We should not then in our feeble
minds make guesses, in accordance with
visible proofs and experiments, from the
case of creatures which are equal, and which
mutually enter into each other, nor think that
God and man are mixed together, and that
out of such a fusion of flesh and the Word
(i.e., the Godhead and manhood) some sort
of body is produced. God forbid that we
should imasjine that the two natures being: in
a way moulded together should become one
substance. For a mixture of this sort is de-
structive of both parts. For God, who con-
tains and is not Himself contained, who
enters into things and is not Himself entered
into, who fills things and is not Himself
filled, who is everywhere at once in His
completeness and is diffused everywhere,
communicates Himself graciously to human
nature by the infusion of His power." And
after a little: "Therefore the God-man, Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, is truly born for us
of the Holy Ghost and the ever-virgin Mary.
And so in the two natures the Word and
Flesh become one, so that while each sub-
stance continues naturally perfect in itself,
what is Divine imparteth without suffering
any loss, to the humanity, and what is human
participates in the Divine ; nor is there one
person God, and another person man, but the
same person is God who is also man : and
again the man who is also God is called and
indeed is Jesus Christ the only Son of God;
and so we must always take care and believe
so as not to deny that our Lord Jesus Christ,
the Son of God, Very God (whom we confess
as existing ever with the Father and equal
to the Father before all worlds) became from
the moment when He took flesh the God-
man. Nor may we imagine that gradually
as time went on He became God, and that
He was in one condition before the resurrec-
tion and in another after it, but that He
was always of the same fulness and power."
And again a little later on: "But because
the \A'ord of God'^ vouchsafed to come down
upon manhood by assuming manhood, and
manhood was taken up into the Word by
being assumed by God, God the Word in
His completeness became complete man.
For it was not God the Father who was made
man, nor the Holy Ghost, but the Only Be-

' Verbum /?f/ (Petschenig) Verbum Deus (Gazseus).

BOOK II.

555

gotten of the Father; and so we must hold
that there is one Person of .the Flesh and the
\\'ord: so as faithfully and without any doubt
to believe that one and the same Son of God,
who can never be divided, existing in two
natures ^ (who was also spoken of as a
■"giant"'-) in the days of His Flesh truly
took upon Him all that belongs to man, and
ever truly had as His own what belongs to
God: since even though'' He was crucified
in weakness, yet He liveth by the power of
God."

CHAPTER VI.

The united doctrine of the Cathohcs is to be received as the
orthodox faith.

This confession of his therefore, which
was the faith of all Catholics was approved
of by all the Bishops of Africa,* whence he
wrote, and by all those of Gaul, to whom he
wrote. Nor has there ever been anyone who
quarrelled with this faith, without being
guilty of unbelief: for to deny what is right
and proved is to confess what is wrong.
The agreement of all ought then to be in it-
self already sufficient to confute heresy: for
the authority of all shows undoubted truth,
and a perfect reason results where no one
disputes it: so that if a man endeavours to
hold opinions contrary to these, we should

in the first instance rather condemn his per-
verseness than listen to his assertions, for one
who impugns the judgment of all announces
beforehand his own condemnation, and a
man who disturbs what has been determined
by all, is not even given a hearing. For
when the truth has once for all been estab-
lished by all men, whatever arises contrary to
it is by this very fact to be recognized at
once as falsehood, because it differs from the
truth. And thus it is agreed that this alone
is sufficient to condemn a man; viz., that he
differs from the judgment of truth. But
still as an explanation of a system does no
harm to the system, and truth always shines
brighter when thoroughly ventilated, and as
it is better that those who are wrong should
be set right by discussion rather than con-
demned by severe censures, we should cure,
as far as we can with the Divine assistance,
this old heresy appearing in the persons of
new heretics, that when through God's mercy
they have recovered their health, their cure
may bear testimony to our holy faith instead
of their condemnation proving an instance of
just severity. Only may the Truth indeed be
present at our discussion and discourse con-
cerning it, and assist our human weakness
with that goodness with which God vouchsafed
to come to men, as for this purpose above all
He willed to be born on earth and among
men ; viz. , that there might be no more room
for falsehood.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

How the errors of later heretics have been condemned and
refuted in the persons of their authors and originators.

As we began by setting down in the first
book some things by which we showed that
our new heretic is but an offshoot from ancient
stocks of heresy, the due condemnation of the
earlier heretics ought to be enough to secure a

1 Siibstantis.

- The allusion is to Ps. xviii, (xix.) 5, where the Latin (r7aincan
Psalter; has " Exultavit, ut gigas, ad ctirrendam viam." The mys-
tical interpretation which takes the words as referring to Christ is
not uncommon. So in a hymn " De Adveritu Domini" (Mone.
Vol. i. p. 43) we have the verse, " Procedit a thalamo suo Pudoris
aula regia Gemin:E gieas substantia;, .Alacris ut currat viam," and
in another " De natali Domini " (p. 58) " Ut gigas egreditur ad
currendam viam."

' Etsi ( Petschenis) Et sic (Gazaeus).

* The attestins; liishops who subscribed his recantation as wit-
nesses were Aurelius of Carthage; Augustine of Hippo Regius;
Florentius of the other Hippo; and Secundinus of Megarmita.

sentence of due condemnation for him. For
as he has the same roots and grows up out of
the same fallow ^ he has already been amply
condemned in the persons of his predecessors,
especially as those who went wrong immediately
before these men very properly condemned the
very thing which these men are now assert-
ing,'' so that the examples of their own party
ought to be amply sufficient for them in both
directions ; viz. , that of those who were re-
stored and that of those who were condemned.
For if they are capable of amendment they
have their remedy set forth in the correction of
their own party. If they are incapable of it
they receive their sentence in the condemna-

^ Scrobibus (Petschenig) : The text of Gaz.Tus has enorihis.

^ The* allusion is to the recantation of I.eporius and his com-
panions. They were the immediate predecessors of Nestorius, and
Cassian means to say that their recantation of their error ought to
have been an example for Nestorius to follow.

d:)

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

tion of their own folk. But that we may not
be thought to have prejudged the case against
them instead of fairly judging it, we will pro-
duce their actual pestilent assertions, or rather
I should say their blasphemous folly: taking
"above all the shield of faith, and the sword
of the Spirit which is the Word of God,"^
that when the head of the old serpent rises
once more, the same sword of the Divine
Word which formerly severed it in the case of
those ancient dragons may even now cut it
off in the persons of these new serpents. For
since the error of these is the same as that of
those former ones, the decapitation of those
ought to be counted as the decapitation of
these ; and as the serpents revive and emit
pestilent blasts against the Lord's church,
and cause some to fail through their hissing,
we must on account of these new diseases add
a fresh remedy to those older cures, so that
even if what has already been done prove
insufficient to heal " the malady, what we are
now doing may be adequate to restore those
who are suffering from it.

CHAPTER II.

Proof tlwt the Virgin Mother of God was not only Christotocos
but also Theotocos, and that Christ is truly God.

And so you say, O heretic, whoever you
may be, who deny that God was born of the
Virgin, that Mary the Mother of our Lord
Jesus Christ ought not to be called Theotocos,
i.e., Mother of God, but Christotocos, i.e.,
only the Mother of Christ, not of God.^ For
no one, you say, brings forth what is anterior
in time. And of this utterly foolish argument
whereby you think that the birth of God can
be understood by carnal minds, and fancy
that the mystery of His Majesty can be ac-
counted for by human reasoning, we will, if
God permits, say something later on.* In
the meanwhile we will now prove by Divine
testimonies that Christ is God, and that Mary
is the Mother of God. Hear then how the

' Enh. vi. 16-17.

- Curat ionein (Petschenig) : Damnationein (Gazaeus).

3 The Neslorian controversy was originated by a sermon of
Anastasius a follower of Tlieorlore of Mopsuestia, whom Nestorius
brought with him to Constantino\)le as his chaplain on his appoint-
ment as Archbishop, a.d. 428. This man, preaching in the presence
of the archbishop, said: "Let no one call Mary Theotocos; for
Mary was but a woman, and it is impossible lliat God should be
born of a woman." In the controversy which was immediately ex-
cited by these words Nestorius at once took the part of his chaplain
and preached a course of sermons in maintenance of his views ; re-
fusing to the Blessed Virgin the title of Theotocos, while admitting
that she might be termed Christotocos. See Socrates H E. Book
VI I. c. xxxil. Evagrius H. K. Book I. c. ii. and Viucentius I.irinensis
Book I. c. xvii. The sermons are still partially existing in the
writings of Marius Mercntor: and in the second of them the title
XoKTTOTOKO? is admitted. Cf. Hefele's Councils Book IX. c. i.
(Vol. iii. Kng. Transl. p. 12 sq.").

* The subject is dealt with in Book IV. c. ii. ; VII. c. ii. sq.

angel of God speaks to the shepherds of the
birth of God. "There is born," he says, '*to
you this day in the city of David a Saviour
who is Christ the Lord."^ In order that you
may not take Christ for a mere man, he adds
the name of Lord and Saviour, on purpose
that you may have no doubt that He whom
you acknowledge as Saviour is God, and that
(as the office of saving belongs only to Divine
power) you may not question that He is of
Divine power, in whom you have learnt that
the power to save resides. But perhaps this
is not enough to convince your unbelief, as
the angel of the Lord termed Him Lord and
Saviour rather than God or the Son of God,
as you certainly most wickedly deny Him to
be God, whom you acknowledge to be Saviour.
Hear then what the archangel Gabriel an-
nounces to the Virgin Mary. "The Holy
Ghost," he says, "shall come upon thee, and
the power of the Most High shall overshadow
thee: therefore also that holv thing which
shall be born of thee shall be called the Son
of God."^ Do you see how, when he is
going to point out the nativity of God, he
first speaks of a w'ork of Divinity. For
"the Holy Ghost," he says, "-shall come upon
thee, and the power of the Most High shall
overshadow thee." Admirably did the angel
speak, and explain the majesty of the Divine
work by the Divine character of his words.
For the Holy Ghost sanctified the Virgin's
womb, and breathed into it by the power of
His Divinity, and thus imparted and commu-
nicated Himself to human nature; and made
His own what was before foreign to Him,
taking it to Himself by His own power and
majesty.' And lest the weakness of human
nature should not be able to bear the entrance
of Divinity the power of the Most High
strengthened the ever to be honoured Virgin,
so that it supported her bodily weakness by
embracing it with overshadowing protection,
and human weakness was not insufficient for
the consummation of the ineffable mystery of
the holy conception, since it was supported
by the Divine overshadowing. "Therefore,"
he says, "the Holy Ghost shall come upon
thee, and the power of the Most High shall
overshadow thee." If only a mere man was
to be born of a pure virgin why should there
be such careful mention of the Divine Advent?
Why such intervention of Divinity itself.'
Certainly if only a man was to be born from
man, and flesh from flesh, a command alone
might have done it, or the Divine will. For
if the will of God alone, and His command

s S. Luke ii. 11. " S. Luke i. 35.

' On the conception by the Holy Ghost compare Pearson on
the Creed. xVrticle III. c. ii.

BOOK II.

557

sufficed to fashion the heavens, form the
earth, create the sea, thrones, and seats, and
angels, and archangels, and principalities,
and powers, and in a word to create all the
armies of heaven, and those countless thou-
sands of thousands of the Divine hosts (" For
He spake and they were made. He com-
manded and they were created"^), why was
it that that was insufficient for the creation of
(according to you) a single man, which was
sufficient for the production of all things
divine, and that the power and majesty of
God did not entrust ///(//with the' birth of a
single infant, which had availed to fashion all
things earthly and heavenly? But certainly
the reason why all those works were performed
by the command of God, but the nativity was
only accomplished by His coming was because
God could not be conceived by man unless He
allowed it, nor be born unless He Himself
entered in; and therefore the archangel
pointed out that the sacred majesty would
come upon the Virgin, I mean that as so great
an event could not be brought about by human
appointment, he announced that there would
be present at the conception the glory of Him
who was to be born.^ And so the Word, the
Son, descended: the majesty of the Holy
Ghost was present: the power of the Father
was overshadowing ; that in the mystery of the
holy conception the whole Trinity might co-
operate. "Therefore," he says, "also that
holy thing which shall be born of thee shall
be called the Son of God." Admirably does
he add "Therefore," in order to show that
this would tJierefore follow because that had
gone before ; and that because God had come
upon her at the conception therefore God would
be present at the birth. And when the maiden
understood not, he gave a reason for this great
thing, saying: "Because the Holy Spirit shall
come upon thee, and because the power of the
Most High shall overshadow thee, therefore
also that holy thing which shall be born shall
be called the Son of God;" that is to say:
That thou mayest not be ignorant of the pro-
vision for so great a work, and the mystery of
this great secret, the majesty of God shall
therefore come upon thee completely; because
the Son of God shall be born of thee. What
further doubt can there be about this? or
what is there further to be said? He said
that God would come upon her; that the Son
of God would be born. Ask now, if you like,
how the Son of God can help being God, or
how she who brought forth God can fail to be

Theotocos, i.e., the Mother of God? Tiiis
alone ought to be enough for you; aye this
ought to be amply sufficient for you.

CHAPTER HI.

Follows up the same argument with passages from the Old
Testament.

But as there is an abundant supply of wit-
nesses to the holy nativity; viz., all that has
been on this account written, to bear witness
to it, let us examine in some slight degree
an announcement about God even in the Old
Testament, that you may know that the fact
that the birth of God was to be from a virgin
was not only then announced when it actually
came to pass, but had been foretold from the
very beginning of the world, that, as the event
to be brought about was ineffable, incredulity
of the fact when actually present might be
removed by its having been previously an-
nounced while still future. And so the
prophet Isaiah says: "Behold a virgin shall
conceive and bear a Son, and they shall call
his name Emmanuel, which is interpreted
God with us. "'^ What room is there here for
doubt, you incredulous person ? '^ The prophet
said that a virgin should conceive : a virgin has
conceived : that a Son should be born : a Son
has been born : that He should be called God :
He is called God. For He is called by that
name as being of that nature. Therefore when
the Spirit of God said that He should be called
God, He proved that He is without the Spirit
of God who makes himself a stranger to all
fellowship with the Divine title. "Behold
then," he says, "a virgin shall conceive and
bear a Son, and thev shall call His name
Emmanuel, which is interpreted God with
us." But here is a point on which it is pos-
sible that your shuffling incredulity may
fasten; viz., by saying that this which the
prophet declared He should be called referred
not to the glory of His Divinity, but to the
name by which He should be addressed. But
what are we to do because Christ is never
spoken of by this name in the gospels,
though the Spirit of God cannot be said to
have spoken falsely through the prophet? •
How is it then? Surely that we should un-
derstand that that prophecy then foretold the
name of His Divine nature and not of His
humanity. For since in His manJiood united
to the Godhead^ He received another name

1 Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.') 0- ' Isa. vii. 14. * /«f>Y</K(V (Petscheni;;). Increduice (Gazxn^) .

- Petschenig's text is as follows : Videlicet iit, quia ng;i lania ! •■■• Here is an instance of language which the mature judgment of
res f>er hjunajtum officium non valebat, ipsius ad /utiiram diceret 1 the Cliurch has rejected, as experience showed how it was capable
majestatem in conceptu, qui erat futurus in partu ; while Gazasus of being pressed into the service of heresy. Hojuo tinitus Deo, in
re?ids deceret lor diceret- I Cassian's mouth evidently means the manhood joined to the God-

558

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

in the gospel, it is certainly clear that this
name belonged to His humanity, that to His
Divinity. But let us proceed further and
summon other true witnesses to establish the
truth: For where we are speaking about the
Godhead, the Divinity cannot be better es-
tablished than by His own witnesses. So
then the same prophet says elsewhere : " For
unto us a Son is born : unto us a child is
given; and the government shall be upon His
shoulder; and His name shall be called the
angel of great counsel, God the mighty, the
Father of the world to come, the Prince of
peace. " ^ Just as above the prophet had ex-
pressly said that He should be called Em-
manuel, so here he says that He should be
called "the angel of great counsel, and God
the mighty, and the Father of the world to
come and the prince of peace " (although we
certainly never read that He was called by
these names in the gospel) : of course that
we may understand that these are not terms
belonging to His human, but to His Divine
nature ; and that the name used in the gospel
belonged to the manhood which He took upon
Him,^ and this one to His innate power.
And because God was to be born in human
form, these names were so distributed in the
sacred economy, that to the manhood a human
name was given and to the Divinity a Divine
one. Therefore he says: "He shall be called
the angel of great counsel, God the mighty,
the Father of the world to come, the prince
of peace." Not, O heretic, whoever you may
be, not that here the prophet, full as he was
of the Holy Spirit, followed your example
and compared Him who was born to a molten
image and a figure fashioned without sense. ^
For "a Son," he says, "is born to us, a Child
is given to us; and the government shall be
upon his shoulder; and His name shall be
called the angel of great counsel, God the

head, but the words might easily be taken as implyinj; that a man
was united to God, i.e., that there were in the Incarnation two per-
sons, one assuming and the other assumed, which was the essence
of Nestorianism. Compare above, the note on Homo to Book I.
c. V.

1 Isa. ix. 6 where in the LXX. B reads on -naitiov kfivv^B-i\
Jlixlv, in'o<; Kttl e&60r) J/fiiv, ov i) ap\'r] eyivri6r) inl Toii u>ii.ov avTov,
Kal KaAeiTat to ofOiixa avTOv MeyaAn? BovAij? dyycAos d^io yap
K. T. A. To this, however, N and A add after dyyeAo?, OavixaiTTO';
<ri!n/3oi;Ao? • Webs (our ®cb; A) itrxupb? e'f oi/criaeTTr;? apx^uiv eiprji-rj?
TraTrjp ToO ne'AAoi'TO! aiujvo'; and hence in the main comes the old
Latin version, which Cassian here follows. Jerome's version has
Parvulus enim natus est nobis et filius datus est nobis ; et factus est
principatus super humerum ejus : et vocabitur nomen ejus admira-
bilis consiliarius Deus fortis pater futuri saeculi princeps pacis. The
Hebrew has nothing directly corresponding to the " angel of great
counsel," which seems to be intended as a paraphrase of " Wonder-
ful Counsellor" (Cf. Judg. xiii. i8), while " Father of the world to
come " is an interpretation of the Hebrew " Father of eternity."

^ Suscefiti hominis. Cf. the line in the Te Deuni, which origin-
ally ran " Tu ad liberandum mundum suscepisti hominem : non
horruisti virginis uterum."

■< See the language of Ncstorius himself quoted below in Book
VII. c. vi. and cf. V. iii.

mighty." And that you may not imagine
Him whom He announced as God ^ to be
other than Him who was born in the flesh, he
adds a term referring to His birth, saying:
"A child is born to us: a son is given to us."
Do you see how many titles the prophet used
to make clear the reality of His birth in the
body? for he called Him both Son and child
on purpose that the manner of the child which
was born might be more clearly shown by a
name referring to His infancy; and the Holy
Spirit foreseeing without doubt this perversity
of blasphemous heretics, showed to the whole
world that it was God who was born, by the
very terms and words used; that even if a
heretic was determined to utter blashemy, he
might not find any loophole for his blasphemy.
Therefore he says: "A Son is born to us; a
child is given to us; and the government
shall.be upon His shoulder; and His name
shall be called the angel of great counsel,
God the mighty, the Father of the world to
come, the prince of peace." He teaches that
this child which was born is both prince of
peace and Father of the world to come and
God the mighty. What room is there then
for shuffling? This child which is born can-
not be severed from God who is born in Him,
for he called Him, whom he spoke of as born,
Father of the world to come; Him whom he
called a child, he foretold as God the mighty.
What is it, O heretic? Whither will you be-
take yourself? Every place is hedged and
shut in: there is no possibility of getting out
of it. There is nothing for it but that you
should at length be obliged to confess the
mistake which you would not understand.
But not content with these passages which
are indeed enough let us inquire what the
Holy Ghost said through another prophet.
"Shall a man," says he, "pierce his God, for
you are piercing me?"^ In order that the
subject of the prophecy might be still clearer
the prophet foretells what he proclaimed of
the Lord's passion as if from the mouth of
Him of whom he was speaking. "Shall a
man pierce his God, for you are piercing
me ? " Does not our Lord God, I ask, seem
to have said this when He was led to the
Cross? Why indeed do you not acknowledge
Me as your Redeemer? Why are ye ignorant
of God clothed in flesh for you? Are you

* The text of Gazxus omits Dens.

5 Malachi iii. S. Jerome's rendering is almost identical " Si
affiget homo Deum, quia vos configitis me; " where the Douay ver-
sion strangely departs from tlie literal sense of the word and renders
vaguely " afflict." It is clear however that it was intended to be
understood literally, as it is here taken by Cassian as a direct
prophecy of the Crucifixion. The LXX. has irTepi/iei. The He-
brew word, which is only found again in Prov. xxii. 23, appears to
mean " defraud."

BOOK II.

559

preparing death for your Saviour? Are you
leading forth to death the Author of life? I
am your God whom ye are lifting up: your
God whom ye are crucifying. What mistake,
I ask, is here or what madness is it? "Shall
a man pierce his God, for you are piercing
me ? " Do you see how exactly the words de-
scribe what was actually done? Could you
ask for anything more express or clearer? Do
you see how sacred testimonies follow our In-
carnate Lord Jesus Christ from the very cradle
to the Cross which He bore, as here you can
see that He whom elsewhere you read of as
God when born in the flesh was God when
pierced on the cross? And so there, where
His birth was treated of, He is spoken of by
the prophet as God: and here where His cru-
cifixion is concerned, He is most clearly
named God; that the taking upon Him of
manhood might not in any point prejudice the
dignity of His Divinity, nor the humiliation
of His body and the shame of the passion
affect the glory of His majesty; for His con-
descension to so lowly a birth and His gener-
ous goodness in enduring his passion ought
to increase our love and devotion to Him;
since it is certainly a great and monstrous sin
if, the more He lavishes love upon us, the
less He is honoured by us.

CHAPTER IV.

He produces testimonies to the same doctrine from the
Apostle Paul.

But passing over these things which cannot
possibly be unfolded because there would be
no limit to the telling of them, as the blessings
which he gives are without stint, it is time for
us to consult the Apostle Paul, the stoutest
and clearest witness to Him, for he can tell us
everything about God in the most trustworthy
way because God always spoke from his
breast. He then, the chosen teacher of the
nations, who was sent to destroy the errors of
Gentile superstition, bears his witness in the
following way to the grace and coming of our
Lord God: "The grace," he says, "of God
and our Saviour appeared unto all men, in-
structing us that denying ungodliness and
worldly desires w-e should live soberly and
justly and godly in this world, looking for the
blessed hope and coming of the glory of the
great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." ^ He
says that " there appeared the grace of God our

' Titus ii. 11-13.

Saviour." Admirably does he use a word
suited to show the arrival of a new grace and
birth; for by saying "there appeared," he in-
dicated the approach of a new grace and birth,
for thenceforward the gift of a new grace
began to appear, from the moment when God
appeared as born in the world. Thus by using
the right word, and one exactly suitable, he
shows the light of this new grace almost as if
he pointed to it with his finger. For that is
most properly said to appear, which is shown
by sudden light manifesting it. Just as we
read in the gospel that the star appeared to
the wise men in the East : - and in Exodus :
"There appeared,'''' he says, "to Moses an
angel in a flame of fire in the bush:"^ for in
all these and in the case of other visions in
the Holy Scripture, Scripture determined
that this word in particular should be used,
that it might speak of that as "appearing,"
which shone forth with unwonted light. So
then the Apostle also, well knowing the
coming of the heavenly grace, which appeared
at the approach of the holy nativity, indicated
j it by using a term applied to a bright appear-
'■ ance ; expressly in order to say 'that it
I appeared, as it shone with the splendour of
a nev/ light. "There appeared" then "the
grace of God our Saviour. " Surely you can-
not raise any quibble about the ambiguity of
the names in this place, so as to say that
" Christ " is one and " God " another, or to
divide "the Saviour" from the glory 'of His
name, and separate " the Lord " from the
Divinity? Lo, here the vessel ■* of God speaks
from God, and testifies by the clearest state-
ment that the grace of God appeared from
Mary. And in order that you may not deny
that God appeared from Mary, he at once
adds the name of Saviour, on purpose that
you may believe that He who is born of Mary
is God, whom you cannot deny to have been
born a Saviour, in accordance with this pas-
sage : " For to you is born to-day a Saviour." ^
O excellent teacher of the Gentiles truly
given by God to them, for he knew that this
wild heretical folly would arise, which would
turn to controversial uses the names of God,
and would not hesitate to slander God from
His own titles; and so just in order that the
heretic might not separate the title of Saviour
from the Divinity he put first the name of
God, that the name of God standing first
might claim as His all the names which fol-
lowed, and that no one might imagine that in
what followed Christ was spoken of as a mere
man, as by the very first word used he had

- S. Matt. ii. 2, 7. ■* Vas /)f / (Petschenig) : Gazxus has Vis Deu
3 Exod. iii. 2. ^ S. Luke ii. 11.

56o

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

taught that He was God. ''Looking," says
the same Apostle, "for the blessed hope and
coming of the glory of the great God and our
Saviour Jesus Christ. " Certainly that teacher
of divine wisdom saw that plain and simple
teaching would not in itself be sufficient to
meet the crafty wiles of the devil's cunning,
unless he fortified the holy preaching of the
faith with a protection of extreme care. And
so although he had used the name of God
the Saviour up above, he here adds "Jesus
Christ," in case you might think that the mere
name of Saviour was not enough to indicate
to you our Lord Jesus Christ, and might fail
to understand that the God, whom you
acknowledge as God the Saviour, is the same
Jesus Christ. What then does he say? He
says : " Looking for the blessed hope and
coming of the glory of the great God and our
Saviour Jesus Christ." Nothing is here
wanting as regards the titles of our Lord,
and you see here God, and the Saviour, and
Jesus, and Christ. But when you see all
these, you see that they all belong to God.
For you have heard of Him as God, but as
Saviour as well. You have heard of Him as
God, but as Jesus as well. You have heard of
Him as God, but as Christ as well. That
which the Divinity has joined and united to-
gether cannot be separated by this diversity of |
titles; for whichever you may seek for of themj
all, you will find it there. The Saviour is God, j
Jesus i5 God, Christ is God. In all of this
which you hear, though the titles used are
many, yet they belong to one Person in power.
For whereas the Saviour is God, and Jesus is
God, and Christ is God, it is easy to see that
all these, though different appellations, are
united as regards the Majesty. And when
you hear quite plainly that one and the same
Person is called God in each case, you can
surely clearly see that in all these cases there
is but one God spoken of. And so you can-
not any longer seek to make out a distinction
of power from the different names given to
the Lord, or to make a difference of Person
owing to variety of titles. You cannot say:
Christ was born of Mary, but God was not;
for an Apostle declares that God was. You
cannot say that Jesus was born of Mary, but
God was not; for an Apostle testifies that
God was. You cannot say: the Saviour was
born, but God was not ; for an Apostle supports
the fact that God was. There is no way of
escape for you. Whichever of the titles of
the Lord you may take, He is God, of whom I
you speak. You have nothing to say: no-
thing to assert: nothing to invent in your
wicked falsehood. You can in impious un-

belief refuse to believe: you have nothing to
deny in the matter of your blasphemy.

CHAPTER V.

From the gifts of Divine grace which we receive through
Christ he infers that He is truly God.

Although we began to speak some time
back on this Divine grace of our Lord and
Saviour, I want to say somewhat more on the
same subject from the Holy Scriptures. W^e
read in the Acts of the Apostles that the
Apostle James ^ thus refuted those who thought
that when they received the gospel they ought
still to bear the yoke of the old Law: "Why,"
said he, " do ye tempt God, to put a yoke
upon the necks of the disciples which neither
our fathers nor^we have been able to bear.
But by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ we
believe to be saved in like manner as they
also. "'^ The Apostle certainly speaks of the
gift of this grace as given by Jesus Christ.
Answer me now, if you please: do you think
that this grace which is given for the salvation
of* all men, is given by man or by God? If
you sa}'. By man, Paul, God's own vessel,
will cry out against you, saying: "There ap-
peared the grace of God our Saviour."^ He
teaches that this grace is the result of a
Divine gift, and not of human weakness.
And even if the sacred testimony was not
sufficient, the truth of the matter itself would
bear its witness, because fragile earthly things
cannot possibly furnish a thing of lasting and
immortal value; nor can anyone give to
another that in which he himself is lacking,
nor supply a sufficiency of that, from the
want of which he admits that he himself is
suffering. You cannot then help admitting
that the grace comes from God. It is God
then who has given it. But it has been given
by our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore the Lord
Jesus Christ is God. But if He be, as He
certainly is, God : then she who bore God is
Theotocos, i.e., the mother of God. Unless
perhaps you want to take refuge in so utterly
absurd and blasphemous a contradiction as
to deny that she from whom God was born is
the mother of God, while you cannot deny
that He who was born is God. But, however,
let us see what the gospel of God thinks about
this same grace of our Lord: "Grace and
truth," it says, "came by Jesus Christ."* If

1 Jacohim. So Petschenip, after his authority. It is however
an error on C.issian's part, as the words quoted were spoken not by
S. lames, but by S. Peter. (The text of Gazasus reads apparently
with no authority /V/r?/;«)

2 Acts XV. lo, II. ■■ Titus ii. ii. * S. John i. 17.

BOOK 11.

561

Christ ii a mere man, how did these come by
Christ? Whence was there in Him Divine
power if, as you say, there was in Him only
the nature of man? Whence comes heavenly
largesse, if His is earthly poverty? For no
one can give what he has not already. As
then Ciirist gave Divine grace, He already
had that which He gave. Nor can anyone
endure a diversity of things that are so utterly
different from each other, as at one and the
same time to sufifer the wants of a poor man,
and also to show the munificence of a bounte-
ous one. And so the Apostle Paul, knowing
that all the treasures of heavenly riches are
found in Christ, rightly writes to the Churches :
''The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with
you."^ For though he had already often
enough taught that God is the same as Christ,
and that all the glory of Deity resides in
Him, and that all the fulness of the Godhead
dwelleth in Him bodily, yet here he is cer-
tainly right in praying for the grace of Christ
alone, without adding the word God: for
while he had often taught that the grace of
God is the same as the grace of Christ, he
now most perfectly prays only for the grace of
Christ, for he knows that in the grace of
Christ is contained the whole grace of God.
Therefore he says: "The grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ be with you." If Jesus Christ
was a mere man, then in his wish that the
grace of Christ might be given to the Churches
he was wishing that the grace of a man might
be given; and by saying: "The grace of
Christ be with you " he meant : the grace of a
man be w-ith you, the grace of flesh be with
you, the grace of bodily weakness, the grace
of human frailty! Or why did he ever even
mention the word grace, if his wish was for
the grace of a man? For there was no reason
for wishing, if that was not in existence which
was wished for; nor ought he to have prayed
that there might be bestowed on them the grace
of one who, according to you, did not possess
the reality of that grace for which he was
wishing. And so you see that it is utterly
absurd and ridiculous — or rather not a thing
to laugh at but to cry over, for what is a matter
for laughter to some frivolous persons becomes
a matter for crying to pious and faithful souls,
for they shed tears of charity for the folly of
your unbelief, and weep pious tears at the
folly of another's impiety. _ Let us then re-
cover ourselves for a while and take our
breath, for this idea is not only without wis-
dom but also without the Spirit, as it is cer-
tainly wanting in spiritual wisdom and has
nothing to do with the Spirit of salvation.

I I Cor. xvi. 23.

CHAPTER VL

That the power of bestowing Divine grace did not come to
Christ in the course of time, but was innate in Him from
His very birth.

But perhaps you will say that this grace of
our Lord Jesus Christ, of which the Apostle
writes, was not born with Him, but was after-
wards infused into Him by the descent of
Divinity upon Him, since you say that the
man Jesus Christ our Lord (whom you call a
mere man) was not born with God, but after-
wards was assumed by God : ^ and that through
this grace was given to the man at the same
time that Divinity was given to Him. Nor
do we say anything else than that Divine
grace descended with the Divinity, for the
Divine grace of God is in a way a bestowal
of actual Divinity and a gift of a liberal
supply of graces. Perhaps then it may be
thought that the difference between us is one
of time rather than of what is essential, since
the Divinity which we say was born with
Jesus Christ' you say was afterwards infused
into Him. But the fact is that if you deny
that Divinity was born with the Lord you can-
not afterwards make a confession according to
the faith; for it is an impossibility for one
and the same thing to be partly impious and
also to turn out partly pious, and for the same
thing partly to belong to faith and partly to
misbelief. To begin with then I ask you this :
Do you say that our Lord Jesus Christ, who
was born of the Virgin Mary is only the Son
of man, or that He is the Son of God as well?
For we, I mean all who hold the Catholic
faith, all of us, I say, believe and are sure
and know and confess that He is both, i.e.,
that He is Son of man because born of a
woman and Son of God because conceived of
Divinity. Do you then admit that He is
both, i.e., Son of God and Son of man, or do
you say that He is Son of man only? If Son
of man only then there cry out against you
apostles and prophets, aye and the Holy
Ghost Himself, by whom the conception was
brought about. That most shameless mouth
of yours is stopped by all the witnesses of the
Divine decrees : it is stopped by sacred writ-
ings and holy witnesses : aye and it is stopped
by the very gospel of God as if by a Divine
hand. And that mighty Gabriel who in the
case of Zacharias restrained the voice of un-
belief by the power of his word, much more
strongly condemned in your case the voice of

2 Nestorius maintained that "that which was formed in the
womb of Mary was not God Himself ... but because God dwells
in him whom He has assumed, therefore also He who is assumed is
called God because of Him who assumes Him. And it is not God
who has suffered, but God was united with the crucified flesh
(Fra-'m. in Marius Mercator p. 7^9 ^?- (ed- Migne)) Thus he made
out that in Christ were two Persons, one assuming and the other
assumed.

562

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

blasphemy and sin, by his own lips, saying to
the Virgin Mary, the mother of God: "The
Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the
power of the Most High shall overshadow
thee : therefore also that holy thing which
shall be born of thee shall be called the Son
of God."^ Do you see how Jesus Christ is
first proclaimed to be the Son of God that
according to the fiesh He might become the
Son of man ? For when the Virgin Mary was
to bring forth the Lord she conceived owing to
the descent of the Holy Spirit upon her and
the co-operation of the power of the Most High.
And from this you can see that the origin of
our Lord and Saviour must come from thence,
whence His conception came; and since He
was born owing to the descent of the fulness
of Divinity in Its completeness upon the
Virgin, He could not be the Son of man un-
less He had first been the Son of God; and
so the angel when sent to announce His
nativity and sacred birth, when he had already
spoken of the mystery of His conception
added a word expressive of His birth, saying:
"Therefore also that holy thing which shall be
born of thee shall be called the Son of God
[i.e., He shall be called the Son of Him from
whom He was begotten].-^ Jesus Christ is
therefore the Son of God, because He was be-
gotten of God and conceived of God. But if
He is the Son of God, then most certainly He
is God : but if He is God, then He is not
lacking in the grace of God. Nor indeed was
He ever lacking in that of which He is Him-
self the maker. For grace and truth were
made by Jesus Christ.

CHAPTER Vn.

How in Christ the Divinity, Majesty, Might and Power have
existed in perfection from eternity, and will continue.

Therefore all grace, power, might. Divin-
ity, aye, and the fulness of actual Divinity and

glory have ever existed together with Him and
in Him, whether in heaven or in earth or in
the womb or at His birth. Nothing that is
proper to God was ever wanting to God. For
the Godhead was ever present with God, no
where and at no time severed from Him. For
everywhere God is present in His complete-
ness and in His perfection. He suffers no
division or change or diminution; for nothing
can be either added to God or taken away
from Him, for He is subject to no diminution
of Divinity, as to no increase of It. He was
the same Person then on earth who was also
in heaven: the same Person in His low estate
who was also in the highest: the same Person
in the littleness of manhood as in the glory of
the Godhead. And so the Apostle was right
in speaking of the grace of Christ when He
meant the grace of God. For Christ was
everything that God is. At the very time of
His conception as man there came all the
power of God, all the fulness of the Godhead;
for thence came all the perfection of the God-
head, whence was His origin. Nor was that
Human nature of His^ ever without the Deity
as it received from Deity the very fact of its
existence. And so, to begin with, whether
you like it or no, you cannot deny this; viz.,
that the Lord Jesus Christ is the Son of God,
especially as the archangel declares in the
gospels: "That holy thing which shall be
born of thee shall be called the Son of God."
But when this is established then remember
that whatever you read of Christ you read
of the Son of God : whatever you read of the
Lord or Jesus belongs to the Son of God.
And so when you recognize a title of Div-
inity in all these terms which you hear
uttered, as you see that in each case you
ought to understand that the Son of God
is meant, prove to me, if you like, how you
can separate the Godhead from the Son of
God.

BOOK HI.

CHAPTER I.

That Christ, who is God and man in the unity of Person,
sprang from Israel and tlie Virgin Mary according to the
flesh.

That divine teacher of the Churches when
in writing to the Romans he was reproving or

' S. Luke i. 35.

- There is some doubt whether the words enclosed in brackets
form part of the genuine text. Petschenig brackets tliem, as want-
ing i;i some MSS.

rather lamenting the unbelief of the Jews,
i.e., of his own brethren, made use of these
words: "I wished myself," said he, "to be
accursed from Christ, for my brethren, who
are my kinsmen according to the flesh, who
are Israelites, to whom belongeth the adoption
as of children, and the glory, and the testa-
ments, and the giving of the law, and the ser-

' Homo ille.

BOOK III.

vice of God, and the promises : whose are the
fathers, of whom is Christ according to tlie
liesh, who is over all things, God blessed for
O, the love of that most faithful

ever,

" 1

Apostle, and most kindly kinsman! who in
his infinite charity wished to die — as a kins-
man for his relations, and as a master for his
disciples. And what then was the reason why
he wished to die? Only one; viz., that they
might live. But in what did their life con-
sist .-* Simply in this, as he himself says,
that they might recognize a Divine Christ
born according to the flesh, of their own flesh.
And therefore the Apostle grieved the more,
because those who ought to have loved Him
the more as sprung from their own stock,
failed to understand that He was born of
Israel. "Of whom," said he, "is Christ ac-
cording to the fiesh, who is over all things,
God blessed for ever." Clearly he lays down
that from them according to the fiesh, was
born that Christ who is over all, God blessed
for ever. You certainly cannot deny that
Christ was born from them according to the
flesh. But the same Person, who was born
from them, is God. How can you get round
this? How can you shuffle out of it? The
Apostle says that Christ who was born of
Israel according to the flesh, is God. Teach
us, if you can, at what time He did not exist.
"Of whom," he says, "is Christ according to
the flesh, who is over all, God." You see that
because the Apostle has united and joined
together these, "God" cannot possibly be
separated from "Christ." For just as the
Apostle declares that Christ is of them, so
he asserts that God is in Christ. You must
either deny both of these statements, or you
must accept both. Christ is said to be born
of them according to the flesh : but the same
Person is declared by the Apostle to be "God
in Christ." Whence also he says elsewhere:
"For God was in Christ, reconciling the
world to Himself."^ It is absolutely impos-
sible to separate one from the other. Either
deny that Christ sprang from them, or admit ■
that there was born of the virgin God in |
Christ, "who is," as he says, "over all, God
blessed for ever."

CHAPTER II.

The title of God is given in one sense to Clirist, and in
another to men.

The name of God would for the faith-
ful be amply sufflcient to denote the glory of
His Divinity, but by adding "over all, God

' Rom. ix. 3-5.

Cor. V. ig.

blessed," he excludes a blasphemous and per-
verse interpretation of it, for fear that some
evil-disposed person to depreciate His abso-
lute Divinity might quote the fact that the
word God is sometimes applied by grace in
the Divine economy temporarily to men, and
thus apply it to God by unworthy comparisons,
as where God says to Moses: " I have given
thee as a God to Pharaoh,"^ or in this pas-
sage: "I said ye are Gods," ^ where it clearly
has the force of a title given by condescen-
sion. For as it says "I said," it is not a
name showing power, so much as a title given
by the speaker. But that passage also, where
it says: "I have given thee as a God to
Pharaoh," shows the power of the giver rather
than the Divinity of him who receives the
title. For when it says: "I have given," it
thereby certainly indicates the power of God,
who gave, and not the Divine nature, in the
person of the recipient. But when it is said
of our God and Lord Jesus Christ, "who is
over all, God blessed for ever," the fact is
at once proved by the words, and the mean-
ing of the words shown by the name given:
because in the case of the Son of God the
name of God does not denote an adoption
by favour, but what is truly and really His
nature.

CHAPTER III.

He explains the apostle's saying : " If from henceforth we
know no man according to the flesh," etc.

And so the same Apostle says : " From
henceforth we know no man according to the
flesh, and if we have known Christ according
to the flesh, yet now we know Him so no
longer.'"^ Admirably consistent are all the
writings of the sacred word with each other,
and in every portion of them : even where
they do not correspond in the /arm of the
words, yet they agree in the drift and sub-
stance. As where he says: "And if we have
known Christ according to the flesh, vet now
we know Him so no longer." For the wit-
ness of the passage before us confirms that
quoted above, in which he said: "Of whom
is Christ according to the flesh, who is over
all, God blessed for ever." For there he
writes: "Of whom is Christ according to the
flesh ; " and here : " if we have known Christ
according to the flesh." There: "who is
over all, God blessed for ever;" and here:
"vet now we no longer know Christ accor-
ding to the flesh." The look of the words is
different, but their force and drift is the
same. For it is the same Person whom he

•^ Exod. vii. I. * Ps. l.\xxi. (Ixxxii.) 6. ^2 Cor. v. 16.

564

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

there declares to be God over all born accord-
ing to the flesh, whom he here asserts that he
no longer knows according to the flesh. And
plainly for this reason; viz., because Him
whom he had known as born in the flesh, he
acknowledges as God for ever; and therefore
says that he knows him not after the flesh,
because He is over all, God blessed for ever;
and the phrase there: "who is over all God,"
answers to this: "we no longer know Christ
according to the flesh; " and this phrase: "we
no longer know Christ according to the flesh"
implies this: "who is God blessed forever."^
The declaration of Apostolic teaching then
somehow rises, as it were to greater heights,
and though it is self-consistent throughout,
yet it supports the mystery of the perfect faith,
with a still more express statement, and says :
"And though we have known Christ accord-
ing to the flesh, yet now we know Him so no
longer," i.e., as formerly we knew Him as
man as well as God, yet now only as God.
For when the frailty of liesh comes to an end,
we no longer know anything in Him except
the power of Divinity, for all that is in Him
is the power of Divine Majesty, where the
weakness of human infirmity has ceased to
exist. In this passage then he has tho-
roughly expounded the whole mystery of the
Incarnation, and of His perfect Divinity.
For where he says : " And if we have known
Christ according to the flesh," he speaks
of the mystery of God born in flesh. But
by adding "yet now we know Him so no
longer," he manifests His power when weak-
ness is laid aside. And thus that knowledge
of the flesh has to do with His humanity, and
that ignorance, with the glory of His Divinity.
For to say "we have known Christ accord-
ing to the flesh:" means "as long as that
which was known, existed. Now we no longer
know it, after it has ceased to exist. For
the nature of flesh has been transformed into
a spiritual substance: and that which for-
merly belonged to the manhood, has all become
God's. And therefore we no longer know
Christ according to the flesh, because when
bodily infirmity has been absorbed by Divine
Majesty," nothing remains in that Sacred

' Petschenip;'s text reads as follows: Ac fier hoc et illud ibi ;
Qui est super otnnia Deus, hoc die it : non noviniiis,jam. Christum
secundum carnem, et hie : tion novi^nus jam Christian secundum
carnent, hoc ait : Qui est Deus benedictus i>i steculn. That of
Gazsushas: Ac per hoc et illud ibi qui est super omnia Deus : et
hoc dicit, non novimus jam Christujn secundutn carnem : Quia est
Deus benedictus in scECJila.

- The lant;uage used in the text by Cassian is scarcely defensible.
The whole tenour of the treatise shows clearly ennuch that his
meaning K oxXhodoTt. enout;h, and that he fully recosnizes that the
Human nature of Christ is still existing (See especially c. vi.) :
but the language used comes perilously near to Kutychianism, and
might be taken to imply that the human nature liad been absorbed
in the Divine. Again in liook V c. vii. he speaks of the Son of
man " united to the Son of God " (Cf. also c. viii.) language which
taken by itself might seem to sanction Nestorianism, the very 1

Body, from which weakness of the flesh can
be known in it. And thus whatever had
formerly belonged to a twofold substance,
has become attached to a single Power.
Since there is no sort of doubt that Christ,
who was crucified through human weakness
lives entirely through the glory of His
Divinity.

CHAPTER IV.

From the Epistle to the Galatians he brings forward a passage
to show that the weakness of the flesh in Christ was
absorbed by His Divinity.

The Apostle indeed declares this in the
whole body of his writings, and admirably
says in writing to the Galatians: "Paul an
Apostle not of men, neither by man, but by
Jesus Christ and God the Father."^ You
see how thoroughly consistent he is with him-
self in the former and the present passage.
For there he says : " Now we no longer know
Christ according to the flesh." Here he says :
" Not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus
Christ." It is clear that his doctrine is the
same here as in the former passage. For
where he says that he is not sent by man,
he implies: "We have not known Christ ac-
cording to the flesh:" and so I am "not sent
by man " but "by Christ;"^ for if I am sent
by Christ, I am not sent by man but by God.
For there is no longer room for the name of
man, in Him whom Divinity claims entirely
for itself. And so when he had said that he
was sent "not of men, neither by man, but
by Jesus Christ," he rightly added: "And
God the Father," thus showing that he was
sent by God the Father and God the Son;
in whom owing to the mystery of the sacred
and ineffable generation there are two Persons
(He who begets, and He who is begotten),
but there is but one single Power of God who
is the sender. And so in saying that he was
sent by God the Father and God the Son, he
shows that the Persons are two in number,
but he also teaches that their Power is One
in sending.

CHAPTER V.

As it' is blasphemy to pare away the Divinity of Christ, so also
is it blasphemous to deny that He is true man.

But he says " by Jesus Christ, and God the
Father, who raised Him from the dead."

heresy against which Cassian himself is writing. These instances
of inaccurate language, which a later writer would have carefully
avoided, serve to show one great service which heresies did to the
C'hurch in making Churchmen write Aoyi/coJTepoi'. Cf. Donier,
Doctrine of the Person of Christ, Vol. i. p. 45S (E. T.).

•* Gal. i. I. * Christum (Petschenig) : Jesum (Gazaeus).

BOOK III.

565

That renowned and admirable teacher, know-
ing that our Lord Jesus Christ must be
preached as true man, as well as true God,
always declares the glory of the Divine in
Him, in such a way as not to lose hold of the
confession of the Incarnation: plainly exclud-
ing the phantasm of Marcion, by a real In-
carnation, and the poverty of the Ebionite,
by Divinity: lest through one or other of
these wicked blasphemies it might be believed
that our Lord Jesus Christ was either alto-
gether man without God, or God without man.
Excellently then did the Apostle, when de-
claring that He was sent by God the Son as
well as by God the Father, add at once a con-
fession of the Lord's Incarnation, by saying:
'"Who raised Him from the dead:" clearly
teaching that it was a real body of the Incar-
nate God, which was raised from the dead : in
accordance wdth this : " And though we have
known Christ according to the flesh," excel-
lently adding: "Yet now we know Him so no
longer." For he says that he knows this in
Him according to the flesh; viz., that He was
raised from the dead; but that he knows Him
no longer according to the flesh inasmuch as
when the weakness of the flesh is at an end,
he knows that He exists in the Power of God
only. Surely he is a faithful and satisfactory
witness of our Lord's Divinity which had to
be proclaimed, who at his first call was smit-
ten from heaven itself, and did not merely
believe in his heart the glory of our Lord
Jesus Christ, who was raised from the dead,
but actually established its truth by the
evidence of his bodily eyes.

CHAPTER VI.

He shows from tlie appearance of Christ vouchsafed to the
Apostle when persecuting the Church, the existence of both
natures in Him.

Wherefore also, when arguing before King
Agrippa and others of the world's judges, he
speaks as follows: "When I was going to
Damascus with authority and permission of
the chief priests, at midday, O king, I saw in
the way a light from heaven above the bright-
ness of the sun, shining round about me and
all those that were with me. And when we
were all fallen down to the ground, I heard a
voice saying unto me in the Hebrew tongue,
Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? It
is hard for thee to kick against the goad.
And I said. Who art Thou, Lord? And the
Lord said to me: I am Jesus of Nazareth,
whom thou persecutest. " ^ You see how truly

1 Acts xxvi. 12-15.

the Apostle said that he no longer knew ac-
cording to the flesh one whom he had seen in
such splendour and majesty. For when as he
lay prostrate he saw the splendour of that
divine light which he was unable to endure,
there followed this voice: "Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou Me?" And when he asked
who it might be, the Lord answers and clearly
points out His Personality: "I am Jesus of
Nazareth, whom thou persecutest." Now
then, you heretic, 1 ask you, I summon you.
Do you believe what the Apostle says of him-
self, or do you not believe it? Or if you
think that unimportant, do you believe what
the Lord says of Himself or do you not be-
lieve it? If you do believe it, there is an end
of the matter: for you cannot help believing
what we believe. For we, like the Apostle,
even if we have known Christ according to
the flesh, yet know Him so no longer. JFe
do not heap insults on Christ. JJ^'c do not
separate the flesh from the Divinity; and all
that is in Christ 7ac' believe is in God. If
then you believe the same that we believe you
must acknowledge the same mysteries of the
faith. But if you differ from us, if you refuse
to believe the Churches, the Apostle, aye and
God's own testimony about Himself, show us
in this vision which the Apostle saw, how
much is flesh, and how much God. For I
cannot here separate one from the other. I
see the inefl^able light, I see the inexpressible
splendour, I see the radiance that human
weakness cannot endure, and beyond what
mortal eyes can bear, the glory of God shin-
ing with inconceivable light. '^ What room is
there here for division and separation? In
the voice we hear Jesus, in the majesty we see
God. How can we help believing that in one
and the same (Personal) substance God and
Jesus exist. But I should like to have a few
more words with you on this subject. Tell
me, I pray you, if there appeared to you in
your present persecution of the Catholic faith
that same vision which then appeared to the
Apostle in his ignorance, if when you were
not expecting it and were off your guard, that
radiance shone round about you, and the glory
of that boundless light smote you in your
terror and confusion, and you lay prostrate in
darkness of body and soul ; which the un-
limited and indescribable terror of your heart
increased, ■'' — tell me, I intreatyou; When the
dread of immediate death was pressing on
you, and the terror of the glory that threatened
you from above, weighed you down, and you

2 Inmsiimabili tnajestatem Dei luce fiilgeniem (Petschenig) :
Gazaeus edits In<pstimabileni majestatent. Dei hue fulgejitetn.

^ Quas tibi ivimensus et ineffabilis pavor mentis augeret [VcX,
schenig) : Gazaeus lias Quas tibi immensas et ineffabiles angustias
favor mentis augeret ?

566

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

heard as well in your bewilderment of mind
those words which your sin so well deserves:
" Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me ? '' and
to your inquiry who it was the answer was
given from heaven: "I am Jesus of Nazareth,
whom thou persecutest," what would you say?
"I do not know, I do not yet fully believe.
I want to think over it with myself a little
longer, who 1 think that Thou art, who speak-
est from heaven, who overwhelmest me with the
brightness of Thy Divinity: whose voice I
hear and whose splendour I cannot bear. I
must consider of this matter, whether I ought to
believe Thee or not: whether Thou art Christ
or God. If Thou art God alone whether it is
in Christ. If Thou art Christ alone, whether
it is in God. I want this distinction to be
carefully observed, and thoroughly considered,
what Ave should believe that Thou art, and
what we should judge Thee to be. For I
don't want any of my offices to be wasted. As
if I were to regard Thee as a man, and yet
pay to Thee some Divine honours." If then
you were lying on the ground, as the Apostle
Paul was then lying, and overwhelmed with
the brightness of the Divine light, were at
your last gasp, perhaps you would say this,
and prate with all this silly chattering. But
what shall we make of the fact that another
course commended itself to the Apostle ; and
when he had fallen down, trembling and half
dead, he did not think that he ought any
longer to conceal his belief, or to deliberate;
it was enough for him that he was taught
by inexpressible arguments to know that He
whom he had ignorantly fancied to be a man,
was God. He did not conceal his belief, he
made no delay. He did not any longer pro-
tract his erroneous ideas by deliberating and
disbelieving, but as soon as he heard from
heaven the name of Jesus his Lord, he replied
in a voice, subdued like that of a servant,
tremulous like that of one scourged, and full
of fervour like that of one converted, "What
shall I do. Lord?" And so at once for his
ready and earnest faith, it was granted to him
that He should never be without His presence
whom he had faithfully believed: and that
He, to whom he had passed in heart, should
Himself pass into his heart: as the Apostle
himself says of himself: "Do you seek a
proof of Christ that speaketh in me? " ^

CHAPTER YII.

He shows once more by other passages of the Apostle that
Christ is God.

I WANT yOu to tell me, you heretic, whether
in this passage He who, as the Apostle tells

* 2 Cor. xiii. 3.

US, speaks in him, is man or God. If He is
man, how can another's body speak in his
heart? If God, then Christ is not a man but
God; for since Christ spoke in the Apostle,
and only God could speak in him, therefore
a Divine Christ spoke in him. And so you
see that there is nothing to be said here, that
no division or separation can be made be-
tween Christ and God : because complete
Divinity was in Christ, and Christ was com-
pletely in God. No division or severing of
the two can here be admitted. There is only
one simple, pious, and sound confession to be
made; viz., to adore, love, and worship Christ
as God. But do you want to understand more
fully and thoroughly that there is no separa-
tion to be made between God and Christ,
and that we must hold that God is altogether
one with Christ? Hear what the Apostle
says to the Corinthians : '' For we must all
be manifested before the judgment seat of
Christ, that every one may receive the proper
things of the body, according as he hath done,
whether it be good or evil."^ But in another
passage, ifi writing to the Romans he says :
'AVe shall all stand before the judgment seat
of God: for it is written: As I live, saith
the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and
every tongue shall confess to God."^ You
see then that the judgment seat of Gcd is the
same as that of Christ; understand then with-
out any doubt that Christ is God; and when
you see that the substance of God and Christ
is altogether inseparable, admit also that the
Person cannot be severed. Unless forsooth be-
cause the Apostle in one Epistle said that we
should be manifested before the judgment seat
of Christ, and in another before that of God,
you invent two judgment seats, and fancy that
some will be judged by Christ and others by
God. But this is foolish and wild, and mad-
der than a madman's utterances. Acknowledge
then the Lord of all, the God of the universe,
acknowledge the judgment seat of God in the
judgment seat of Christ. Love life, love your
salvation, love Him by whom you were
created. Fear Him by whom you are to be
judged. For whether you will or no, you
have to be manifested before the judgment
seat of Christ, and laying aside wicked blas-
phemy and the childish talk of unbelieving
words, though you think that the judgment
seat of God is different from that of Christ,
you will come before the judgment seat of
Christ, and will find by evidence that there is
no gainsaying, that the judgment seat of God
is indeed the same as that of Christ, and that
in Christ the Son of God, there is all the glory
of God the Son, and the power of God the

2 2 Cor. V. 10.

2 Rom. xiv. 10, II.

BOOK III.

567

Father. " For the Father judcjcth no man, but
hath committed all judgment to the Son, that
all men may honour the Son as they honour
the Father." ^ For whoever denies the Father
denies the Son also. "^^■hosoever denieth
the Son, the same hath not the Father: he
that confesseth the Son, hath the Father
also.''" And so you should learn that the
glory of the Father and the Son is insepa-
rable, and their majesty is inseparable also;
and that the Son cannot be honoured without
the Father, nor the Father without the Son.
But no man can honour God and the Son of
God except in Christ the only-begotten Son of
God. For it is impossible for a man to have
the Spirit of God who is to be honoured ex-
cept in the Spirit of Christ, as the Apostle
savs: "But ve are not in the flesh, but in
the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God
dwell in you. But if any man have not the
Spirit of Christ, he is none of His."^ And
again : *" Who shall lay anything to the charge
of God's elect? It is God that justifieth.
Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ
Jesus who died, yea rather who rose again."*
You see then now, even agaijist your will,
that there is absolutely no difference between
the Spirit of God and the Spirit of Christ,
or between the judgment of God and the
judgment of Christ. Choose then which you
will — for one of the two must happen — either
acknowledge in faith that Christ is God, or
admit that God is in Christ at your condem-
nation.

CHAPTER VIII.

When confessing the Divinity of Christ we ought not to pass
over in silence the confession of tlie cross.

But let us see what else follows. In writ-
ing to the church of Corinth, he whom we
spoke of above, the instructor of all the
churches viz. Paul, speaks thus: "The Jews,"
says he, "seek signs, and the Greeks ask for
wisdom. But we preach Christ crucified, to
the Jews a stumbling-block, to the Gentiles
foolishness: but to them that are saved, both
Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God
and the wisdom of God."^ O most power-
ful teacher of the faith, who even in this
passage, when teaching the Church thought
it not enough to speak of Christ as God with-
out adding that He was crucified on purpose
that for the sake of the open and solid teach-
ing of the faith he might proclaim Him, whom
he called the crucified, to be the wisdom
of God. He then employed no subtilty or

1 S. John V. 22, 23. ' Rom. viii. 9. * i Cor. i. 22-24.

s I John ii. 23. * Ibid. ver. 33, 34-

circumlocution, nor did he when he preached
the gospel of the Lord blush at the mention
of the cross of Christ. And though it was a
stumbling-block to the Jews, and foolishness
to the Gentiles to hear of God as born, God
in bodily form, God suffering, God crucified,
yet he did not weaken the force of his pious
utterance because of the wickedness of the
offence of the Jews: nor did he lessen the
vigour of his faith because of the unbelief
and the foolishness of others: but openly,
persistently, and boldly proclaimed that He,
whom a mother ^ had borne, whom men had
slain, the spear had pierced, the cross had
stretched — was "the power and wisdom of
God, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to
the Gentiles foolishness." But still that
which was to some a stumbling-block and
foolishness, was to others the power and wis-
dom of God. For as the persons differed, so
was there a difi^erence of their thoughts: and
what a man who was void of sound under-
standing, and incapable of true good, fool-
ishly denied in unbelief, that a wise faith
could feel in its inmost soul to be holy and
life giving.

CHAPTER IX.

How the Apostle's preaching was rejected by Jews and Gentiles
because it confessed that the crucified Christ was God.

Tell me then, you heretic, you enemy of
all men, but of yourself above all — to whom
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ is an offence
as with the Jews, and foolishness as with the
Gentiles, you who reject the mysteries of true
salvation, with the stumbling of the former,
and are foolish with the stubbornness of the
others, why was the preaching of the Apostle
Paul foolishness to the pagans, and a stum-
bling-block to the Jews ? Surely it would
never have offended men, if he had taught
that Christ was, as you maintain He is, a
mere man? For who would think that His
birth, passion, cross, and death were incred-
ible or a difficulty? Or what would there
have been novel or strange about the preach-
ing of Paul, if he had said that a merely
human Christ suffered that which human
nature daily endures among men everywhere?
But it was surely this that the foolishness of
the Gentiles could not receive, and the un-
belief of the Jews rejected; viz., that the
Apostle declared that Christ whom they, like
you, fancied to be a mere man, was God.
This it certainly was which the thoughts of
these wicked men rejected, which the ears of
the faithless could not endure; viz., that the

6 Milter (Petschenig) : Caro (Gazjeus).

568

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

birth of God should be proclaimed in the man
Jesus Christ, that the passion of God should
be asserted, and the cross of God proclaimed.
This it was which was a difficulty: this was
what was incredible; for that was incredible
to the hearing of men, which had never
been heard of as happening to the Divine
nature. And so you are quite secure, with
such an announcement and teaching as yours,
that your preaching will never be either fool-
ishness to the Gentiles or a stumbling-block
to the Jews. You will never be crucified
with Peter by Jews and Gentiles, nor stoned
with James, nor beheaded with Paul. For
there is nothing in your preaching to offend
them. You maintain that a mere man was
born, a mere man suffered. You need not be
afraid of their troubling you with persecution,
for you are helping them by your preaching.

CHAPTER X.

How the apostle maintains that Christ is the power of God
and the wisdom of God.

But let us see something more on the sub-
ject. Christ then, according to the Apostle,
is the power of God and the wisdom of God.
What have you to say to this? How can you
get out of it? There is no place for you to
escape and fly to. Christ is the wisdom of
God and the power of God. He, I say, whom
the Jews attacked, the Gentiles mocked, whom
you yourself together with them are persecu-
ting,— He, I say, who is foolishness to the
heathen, and a stumbling-block to the Jews,
and both to you. He, I say, is the power of
God and the wisdom of God. What is there
that you can do ? Shut your ears, forsooth, so
as not to hear? This the Jews did also when
the Apostle was preaching. Do what you will,
Christ is in heaven, and in God, and with
Him, and in Him in the heavens above in
whom also He was here below : you can no
longer persecute Him with the Jews. But
you do the one thing that you can. You
persecute Him in the faith, you persecute
Him in the church, you persecute Him with
the arms of a wicked belief, you persecute
Him with the sword of false doctrine. Per-
haps you do rather more than the Jews of old
did. You now persecute Christ, after even
those who did persecute Him, have believed.
But perhaps you think that the sin is less
because you can no longer lay hands on Him.
No less grievous, I tell you, no less grievous
to Him is that persecution, in which sinful
men persecute Him in the persons of His fol-
lowers. But the mention of the Lord's cross

offends you. It always offended the Jews as
well. You shudder at hearing that God
suffered: the Gentiles in their error mocked
at this also. I ask you then, in what point
do you differ from them, since you both agree
in this frowardness? But for my part I not
only do not water down this preaching of the
holy cross, this preaching of the Lord's pas-
sion, but as far as my wishes and powers go I
emphasise it. For I will declare that He who
was crucified is not only the power and wis-
dom of God, than w'hich there is nothing
greater, but actually Lord of absolute Divin-
ity and glory. And this the rather, because
this assertion of mine is the doctrine of God,
as the Apostle says: "We speak wisdom
among them that are perfect: but the wisdom
not of this world, nor of the rulers of this
world w'ho are brought to nought : but we
speak the hidden wisdom of God in a mystery,
which God ordained before the world, unto
our glory: which none of the princes of this
world knew : for if they had known it, they
would never have crucified the Lord of glory.
But as it is written : that eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man, what God hath prepared for
them that love Him." ^ You see what great
matters the Apostle's discourse comprises in
how small a compass. He says that he speaks
wisdom, but a wisdom which only those that
are perfect can know, and which the prudent
of this world cannot know. For he says that
this is the wisdom of God, which is hidden in
a Divine mystery, and predestined before all
worlds for the glory of the saints: and that
therefore it is only known to those who savour
of God; while the princes of this world are
utterly ignorant of it. But he adds the reason,
to establish both points that he had mentioned,
saying: '' For if they had known it, they would
never have crucified the Lord of glory. But
it is written, that eye hath not seen, nor ear
hath heard, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man, what God hath prepared for
them that love Him." You see then how the
wisdom of God, hidden in a mystery, and
predestined before all worlds, was unknown to
those who crucified the Lord of glory, and
known by tliose who received it. And well
does he say that the wisdom of God was hid-
den in a mystery, for never }'et could the eye
of any man see, or the ear hear, or the heart
imagine this; viz., that the Lord of glory
should be born of a virgin and come in the
flesh, and suffer all kinds of punishment, and
shameful passion. But with regard to these
gifts of God, as there is no one who — since

* I Cor. i. 6-9.

BOOK III.

569

they were hidden in a mystery — could ever of
himself understand them, so blessed is he who
has grasped them when they are revealed.
Thus all who have failed to grasp them must
be reckoned among the princes of this world,
and those who have grasped them among
God's wise ones. He then does not grasp it
who denies God born in the flesh; therefore
you also do not grasp it, as you deny this.
But do what you will, deny as impiously as
you like, we the rather believe the Apostle.
But why should I say the Apostle ? the rather
do we believe God. P'or through the Apostle
we believe Him, whom we know to have
spoken by the Apostle. The Divine word
says that the ord of glory was crucified by
the princes of the world. You deny it. They
also who crucified Him denied that it was God
whom they were crucifying. They then who
confess Him have their portion with the
Apostle who confessed Him. You are sure to
have your lot with His persecutors. What is
there then that can be replied to this? The
Apostle says that the Lord of glory was cruci-
fied. Alter this if you can. Separate now,
if you please, Jesus from God. At least you
cannot deny that Christ was crucified by the
Jews. But it was the Lord of glory who was
crucified. Therefore you must either deny
that Christ was nailed to the cross, or you
must admit that God was nailed to it.

CHAPTER XL

He supports the same doctrine by proofs from the gospel.

But perhaps it is a difficulty to you that all
this time I am chiefly using the witness of the
Apostle Paul alone. He is good enough for
me, whom God chose, nor do I blush to call
as the wdtness to my faith, the man whom God
willed to be the teacher of the whole world.
But to yield to your wishes, as perhaps you
fancy that I have no other proofs to use, hear
the perfect mystery of man's salvation and
eternal bliss, which Martha proclaims in the
gospel. For what does she say? '"Of a
truth. Lord, I have believed that Thou art the
Christ, the Son of the living God, who art
come into this world." ^ Learn the true faith
from a woman. Learn the confession of eter-
nal hope. Yet you have a splendid consola-
tion : you need not blush to be taught the
mystery of salvation by her, whose testimony
God did not refuse to accept.

- S. John xi. 27.

CHAPTER Xn.

He proves from the renowned confession of the blessed Peter
that Christ is God.

But if you prefer the authority of a greater
person (although you ought not to slight the
authority of any one of either sex, on whom
the confession of the mystery confers weight —
for whatever maybe a person's condition, or
however humble his position, yet the value of
his faith is not thereby diminished) let us
interrogate no beginner or untaught school-
boy, nor a woman whose faith might perhaps
appear to be but rudimentary ; but that greatest
of disciples among disciples, and of teachers
among teachers, who presided and ruled over
the Roman Church, and held the chief place ^
in the priesthood as he did in the faith. Tell
i us then, tell us, we pray, O Peter, thou chief
of Apostles, tell us how the Churches ought to
believe in God. For it is right that you
' should teach us, as you were taught by the
Lord, and that you should open to us the gate,
of which you received the key. Shut out all
those who try to overthrow the heavenly
house : and those who are endeavouring to
enter by secret holes and unlawful approaches:
as it is clear that none can enter the gate of
the kingdom save one to whom the key be-
stowed on the Churches is revealed by you.
Tell us then how we ought to believe in Jesus
Christ and to confess our common Lord. You
will surely reply without hesitation : '" Why do
you consult me as to the way in which the
Lord should be confessed, when you have be-
fore you my own confession of Him? Read
the gospel, and you will not want me myself,
when you have got my confession. Nay, you
have got me myself when you have my con-
fession; for though / have no weight apart
from my confession, yet the actual confession
adds weight to my person." Tell us then, O
Evangelist, tell us the confession: tell us the
faith of the chief Apostle: did he confess that
Jesus was only a man, or God? did he say
that there was nothing but flesh in Him, or
did he proclaim Him the Son of God? When
then the Lord Jesus Christ asked whom the
disciples believed and confessed Him to be,
Peter, the first of the Apostles, replied — one
in the name of all — for the answer of one was
to the same efifect as the faith of them all.
But it was fitting that he should first give the
answer, that the order of the answer might
correspond to the degree of honour : and that
he might outstrip them in confession, as he
outstripped them in age. What then does he

. * Principatus.

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

say? "Thou art," he says, '*the Christ the
Son of the living Gocl."^ I am obliged, you
heretic, to make use of a plain and simple
question to confute you. Tell me, I pray,
who was He, to whom Peter gave that answer?
You cannot deny that it was the Christ. I ask
then, what do you call Christ? man or God?
Man certainly without any doubt: for hence
springs the whole of your heresy, because you
deny that Christ is the Son of God. And so
too you say that Mary is Christotocos, but not
Theotocos, because she was the mother of
Christ, not of God. Therefore you maintain
that Christ is only a man, and not God, and
so that He is the Son of man not of God.
What then does Peter reply to this? "Thou
art," he says, "the Christ, the Son of the
living God." That Christ whom you declare
to be only the Son of man, he testifies to be
the Son of God. Whom would you like us to
believe? you or Peter? I imagine that you
are not so shameless as to venture to prefer
your own opinion to that of the first of the
Apostles. And yet what is there that you
would not venture on ? or how can you help
scorning the Apostle, if you can deny God?
"Thou art then," he says, "the Christ, the
Son of the living God." Is there anvthing
puzzling or obscure in this? It is nothing but
a plain and open confession : he proclaims
Christ to be the Son of God. Perhaps you
will deny that the words were spoken: but
the Evangelist testifies that they were. Or do
you say that the Apostle told a lie? But it is
an awful lie to accuse an Apostle of lying.
Or perhaps you will maintain that the words
were spoken of some other Christ? But this
is a novel kind of monstrous fabrication.
What then is left for )'^ou? One thing indeed;
viz., that since what is written is read, and
what is read is true, you should finally be
driven by force and compulsion (as you
cannot assert its falsehood) to desist from
impugning its truth.

CHAPTER XIII.

The confession of the blessed Peter receives a testimony to its
truth from Christ Hmiself.

But Still, as I have made use of the testi-
mony of the chief Apostle, in which he openly
confessed the Lord Jesus Christ as God, let
us see how He whom he confessed approved
of his confession ; for of far more value than
the Apostle's words is the fact that God
Himself commended his utterance. When
then the Apostle said: "Thou art the Christ

1 S. Matt. xvi. 16.

the Son of the living God," what was the
answer of our Lord and Saviour? "Blessed
art thou," said He, "Simon Barjonah, for
rtesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee
but the Spirit of My Father which is in
heaven." If you do not like to use the testi-
mony of the Apostle use that of God. For by
commending what was said God added His
own authority to the Apostle's utterance, so
that although the utterance came from the
lips of the Apostle, yet God who approved of
it made it His own. " Blessed art thou," said
He, "Simon Barjonah, for flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but the Spirit
of My Father which is in heaven." Thus in
the words of the Apostle you have the testi-
mony of the Holy Spirit and of the Son who
was present and of God the Father. What
more can you want, or what comes up to this?
The Son commended : the Father was present :
the Holy Ghost revealed. The utterance of
the Apostle thus gives the testimony of the
entire Godhead : for this utterance must neces-
sarily have the authority of Him from whose
prompting it proceeds. " Blessed then art
thou," said He, "Simon Barjonah, for flesh
and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but
the Spirit of My Father which is in heaven."
If then flesh and blood did not reveal this to
Peter or inspire him, you must at last see who
inspires you. If the Spirit of God taught him
who confessed that Christ was God, you see
how you are taught by the spirit of the devil if
you can deny it.

CHAPTER XIV.

How the confession of the blessed Peter is the faith of the
whole Church.

But what are the other words which follow
that saying of the Lord's, with which He
commends Peter? "And I," said He, "say
unto thee, that thou art Peter and upon this
rock I will build My Church." Do you see
how the saying of Peter is the faith of the
Church? He then must of course be outside
the Church, who does not hold the faith of the
Church. "And to thee," saith the Lord, "I
will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven."
This faith deserved heaven: this faith re-
ceived the keys of the heavenly kingdom.
See what awaits you. You cannot enter the
gate to which this key belongs, if you have
denied the faith of this key. "And the
gate," He adds, "of hell shall not prevail
against thee." The gates of hell are the
belief or rather the misbelief of heretics.
For widely as hell is separated from heaven,

BOOK III.

571

so widely is he who denies from him who
confessed tliat Christ is God. " Whatsoever,"
He proceeds, "thou shalt bind on earth, shalt
be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou
shalt loose on earth, shalt be loosed also in
heaven." The perfect faith of the Apostle
somehow is given the power of Deity, that
what it should bind or loose on earth, might
be bound or loosed in heaven. For you then,
who come against the Apostle's faith, as you
see that already you are bound on earth, it
only remains that you should know that you
are bound also in heaven. But it would
take too long to go into details which are so
numerous as to make a long and wearisome
story, even if they are related with brevity
and conciseness.

CHAPTER XV.

St. Thomas also confessed the same faith as Peter after the
Lord's resurrection.

But I want still to add one more testimony
from an Apostle for you : that you may see
how what followed after the passion corres-
ponded with what went before it. When then
the Lord appeared in the midst of His dis-
ciples when the doors were shut, and wished
to make clear to the Apostles the reality of
His body, when the Apostle Thomas felt His
flesh and handled His side and examined His
wounds — what was it that he declared, when
he was convinced of the reality of the body
shown to him? "My Lord," he said, "and
my God." ^ Did he say what you say, that it
was a man and not God.-* Christ and not
Divinity? He surely touched the body of his
Lord and answered that He was God. Did
he make any separation between man and
God? or did he call that flesh Theotocos, to
use your expx'ession, i.e., that which received
Divinity? or did he, after the fashion of your
blasphemy, declare that He whom he touched
was to be honoured not for His own sake, but
for the sake of Him whom He had received
into Himself? But perhaps God's Apostle
knew nothing of that subtle separation of
yours, and had no experience of the fine dis-
tinctions of 3'our judgment, as he was a rude
countryman, ignorant of the dialectic art, and
of the method of philosophic disputation; for
whom the Lord's teaching was amply suffi-
cient, and as he was one who knew nothing
whatever except what he learnt from the in-
struction of the Lord! And so his words con-
tain heavenly doctrine; his faith is a Divine
lesson. He had never learnt to separate, as

1 S. John XX. 2S.

you do, the Lord from His body: and had no
idea how to rend God asunder from Himself.
He was holy, straightforward, upright: filled
with practical innocence, unalloyed faith, and
pure knowledge: having a simple understand-
ing joined with prudence, a wisdom entirely
free from all evil, together with perfect sim-
plicity: ignorant of any corruption, and free
from all heretical perversity, and as one who
had experienced in himself the force of the
Divine lesson, he held fast everything which
he had learnt. And so he — countryman and
ignorant fellow as you fancy him — shuts you
up with a brief answer, and destroys your
position with a few words of his. What then
did the Apostle Thomas touch when he drew
near to handle his God? Certainly it was
Christ without any doubt. But what did he
exclaim? "My Lord," he said, "and my
God." Now, if you can, separate Christ from
God, and change this saying, if you are able
to. Make use of all dialectic art — all the
prudence of this world, and that foolish wis-
dom which consists in wordy subtlety. Turn
yourself about in every direction, and draw in
your horns. Do whatever you can with inge-
nuity and art. Say what you like, and do
what you like ; you cannot possibly get out of
this without confessing that what the Apostle
touched was God. And indeed, if the thing
j can possibly be done, perhaps you will want to
alter the statement of the gospel story, so that
we may not read that the Apostle Thomas
touched the body of the Lord, or that he
called Christ Lord and God. But it is abso-
lutely impossible to alter what is written in
the gospel of God. For "heaven and earth
shall pass away, but the words" of God " shall
not pass away." - For lo, even now he who
then bore his witness, the Apostle Thomas,
proclaims to you : "Jesus whom I touched is
God. It is God whose limbs I handled. I did
not feel what was incorporeal, not handle what
was intangible: I touched not a Spirit with
my hand, so that it might be believed that I
said of it alone *It is God.' For 'a spirit,'
as my Lord Himself said, ' hath not flesh and
bones.' ^ I touched the body of my Lord.
I handled flesh and bones. I put my fingers
into the prints of the wounds : and I declared
of Christ my Lord, whom I had handled :
' My Lord and my God.' For I know not
how to make a separation between Christ and
God, and I cannot insert blasphemous distinc-
tions between Jesus and God, or rend my Lord
asunder from Himself. Away from me, who-
ever is of a different opinion, and whoever
says anything different. I know not that

* S. Matt. xxiv. 35.

' S. Luke xxiv. 39.

572

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

Christ is other than God. This faith I held
together with my fellow apostles : this I de-
livered to the Churches: this I preached to
the Gentiles : this I proclaim to thee also,
Christ is God, Christ is God. A sound mind
imagines nothing else : a sound faith says
nothing else. The Deity cannot be parted
from Itself, And since whatever is Christ is
God, there can be found in God none other
but God."

CHAPTER XVI.

He brings forward the -witness of God tlie Father to the
Divinity of the Son.

What do you say now, you heretic ? Are
these evidences of the faith, aye and of all
your unbelief, enough for you : or would you
like some more to be added to them ? but
what can be added after Prophets and Apos-
tles? unless perhaps — as the Jews once de-
manded— you too might ask for a sign to be
given you from heaven .'' But if you ask this,
we must give you the same answer which was
formerly given to them : " An evil and adul-
terous generation seeketh after a sign. And
no sign shall be given to it, but the sign of the
prophet Jonah." -^ And indeed this sign would
be enough for you as for the Jews who cruci-
fied Him, that you might be taught to believe
in the Lord God by this alone, through which
even those who had persecuted Him, came to
believe. But as we have mentioned a sign
from heaven, I will show you a sign from
heaven : and one of such a character that
even the devils have never gainsaid it :
while, constrained by the demands of truth,
though they saw Jesus in bodily form, they yet
cried out that He was God, as indeed He was.
What then does the Evangelist say of the Lord
Jesus Christ .'' "When He was baptized," he
says, " straightway He went up out of the
water. And lo, the heavens were opened to
Him, and He saw the Spirit descending like
a dove, and coming upon Him. And behold,
a voice from heaven, saying : This is My be-
loved Son, in whom I am well pleased." '^
What do you say to this, you heretic .-• Do you
dislike the words spoken, or the Person of the
Speaker ? The meaning of the utterance at
any rate needs no explanation : nor does the
worth of the Speaker need the commendation
of words. It is God the Father who spoke.
What He said is clear enough. Surely you
cannot make so shameless and blasphemous
an assertion as to say that God the Father is

1 S. Matt. xvi. 4.

2 S. Matt. iii. 16, 17.

not to be believed concerning the only begotten
Son of God.? "This," He then says, " is My
beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.'
But perhaps you will try to maintain that this
is madness, and that this was said of the Word
and not of Christ. Tell me then who was it
who was baptized ? The Word or Christ .-'
Flesh or Spirit ? You cannot possibly deny
that it was Christ. That man then, born of
man and of God, conceived by the descent
of the Holy Spirit upon the Virgin, and by
the overshadowing of the Power of the Most
High, and thus the Son of man and of God,
He it was, as you cannot deny, who was bap-
tized. If then it was He who was baptized,
it was He also who was named, for certainly
the Person who was baptized was the one
named. "This," said He, "is My beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased." Could
anything be said with greater significance
or clearness? Christ was baptized. Christ
went up out of the water. \Mien Christ was
baptized the heavens were opened. For
Christ's sake the dove descended upon Christ,
the Holy Spirit was present in a bodily form.
The Father addressed Christ. If vou ven-
ture to deny that this was spoken of Christ,
the only thing is for you to maintain that
Christ was not baptized, that the Spirit did
not descend, and that the Father did not
speak. But the truth itself is urgent and
weighs you down so that even if you will not
confess it, yet you cannot deny it. For what
says the Evangelist ? " When He was bap-
tized, straightway He went up out of the
water." Who was baptized ? Most certainly
Christ. " And behold," he says, "the heaAens
were opened to Him." To whom, forsooth,
save to Him who was baptized ? Most cer-
tainly to Christ. "And He saw the Spirit of
God descending like a dove and coming upon
Him." Who saw? Christ indeed. Lpcn
whom did It descend ? Most certainly upon
Christ. "And a voice came from heaven,
saying" — of whom? Cf Christ indeed: for
what follows? " 1 his is My beloved Sen, in
whom I am well pleased." In order that it
might be made clear on whose account all
this hr.ppened, there followed the voice, say-
ing : "This is My beloved Son," as if to say :
This is He on whose account all this took
place. For this is My Son : on His account
the heavens were opened: on His account My
Spirit came : on His account My voice was
heard. For this is My Son. In saying then
"This is My Son" whom did He so desig-
nate ? Certainly Him whom the dove touched.
And whom did the dove touch ? Christ in-
deed. Therefore Christ is the Son of God.
My promise is fulfilled, I fancy. Do you see

BOOK IV.

573

then now, O heretic, a sign given you from
heaven ; and not one only, but many and
special ones ? For there is one in the opening
of heaven, another in the descent of the Spirit,
a third in the voice of the Father. All of
which most clearly show that Christ is God,
for the laying open of the heavens indicates
that He is God, and the descent of the Holy
Spirit upon Him supports His Divinity, and
the address of the Father conlirms it. For
heaven would not have been opened except
in honour of its Lord : nor would the Holy
Ghost have descended in a bodily form except
upon the Son of God : nor would the Father
have declared Him to be the Son, had he not
been truly such ; especially with such tokens
of a Divine birth, as not merely to confirm the
truth of the right faith, but also to exclude
the wickedness of guilty and erroneous belief.
For v/hen the Father had expressly and point-
edly said with the inexpressible majesty of a
Divine utterance, "This is My Son," He
added also what follows — I mean, " My be-
loved, m whom I am well pleased." As He
had already declared Him by the prophet to
be God the Mighty and God the Great, so
when He sa)^s here, " My beloved Son in
whom I am well pleased," He adds further
to the name of Flis own Son the title also of
His beloved Son, in whom He is well pleased :
that the addition of the titles mi^ht denote the

special properties of the Divine nature ; and
that that might specially redound to the glory
of the Son of God, which had never happened
to any man. And so just as in the case of our
Lord Jesus Christ these special and unique
' things happened ; viz., that the heavens were
opened, that in the sight of all God the Father
touched Him in a sort of way, through the
coming and presence of the dove, and pointed
almost with His finger to Him saying, "This
is My Son ; " so this too is special and unique
in Flis case ; viz., that He is specially beloved,
and is specially named as well-pleasing to the
Father, in order that these special accompani-
I ments might mark the special import of His
; nature, and that the special character of His
I names might support the special position of
j the only begotten Son, which the honour of the
' signs previously given had already confirmed.
But here comes the end of this book. For
this saying of God the Father can neither be
added to, nor equalled by any words of men.
For us God the Father Himself is a suffi-
ciently satisfactory witness concerning our
; Lord Jesus Christ, when Fie says "This is My
Son." If you think that it is possible for these
utterances of God the Father to be gainsaid,
then you are forced to contradict Him, v»ho by
the clearest possible announcement caused
Him to be acknowledged as His Son by the
I whole world. '

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER I.

That Christ was before the Incarnation God from

everlasting.

As we have finished three books with the
most certain and the most valuable witnesses,
whose truth is substantiated not only by human
but also by Divine evidences, they w'ould
abundantly sufilce to prove our case by Divine
authority, especially as the Divine authority
of the case itself would be enough for this.
But still as the whole mass of the sacred
Scriptures is full of these evidences, and
where there are so many witnesses, there are
so many opinions to be urged — nay where
Holy Scripture itself gives its witness so to
speak with one Divine mouth — we have
thought it well to add some others still, not
from any need of confirmation, but because of
the supply of material at our disposal ; so that
anything which might be unnecessary for pur-
poses of defence, might be useful by way of

ornamentation. Therefore since in the earlier
books we proved the Divinity of our Lord
Jesus Christ while He was in the flesh by the
evidence not only of prophets and apostles,
but of evangelists and angels as well, let us
now show that He who was born in the flesh
was God even before His Incarnation ; that
you may understand by the harmony and con-
cord of the evidences from the sacred Scrip-
tures, that you ought to believe that at His
birth in the body He was both God and man,
who before His birth was only God, and that
He who after He had been brought forth by
the Virgin in the body was God, was before
His birth from the Virgin, God the Word.
Learn then first of all from the Apostle the
teacher of the whole world, that He who is
without beginning, God, the Son of God, be-
came the Son of man at the end of the world,
i.e., in the fulness of the times. For he says :
" But when the fulness of the times was come,
God sent His Son, made of a woman, made

574

THE SEVEX BOOKS OF TOHX CASSL\X.

under ilie law." -^ Teil rae then, before the
Lord Jesus Christ was bom of His mother
Mary, had God a Son or had He not ? You
cannot deny that He had. for never yet was
there either a son without a father, or a
father without a son: because as a son is
so called with reference to a father, so is a
father so named with reference to a son.

CHAPTER II.

He infas hxm mbat he has ssid that die Virgin Marr gave
hirri ro a Soa "who bad pie-esiszed arc was greats- than she
"' was.

Yor see then that when the Apostle says
that God sent His Son. it was His own Son,
to use the actual words of the Apostle, " His
own Son" that God sent. For, since He sent
His own Son. it was not some one else's Son
that He sent, nor could He send Him at all
if He who was sent had no existence. He
sent then, he says, " His own Son, made of a
woman." Therefore because He sent Him,
He sent one who existed : and because He
sent His own. it certainly was not another's
but His OAKu whom He sent. "^Miat then be-
comes of that argument of yours drawn from
this world's subtleties ? Xo one ever yet gave
birth to one who had already existed before.
For had not the Lord a pre-existence before
ilary? Was not the Son of God existent
before the daughter of man ? In a word did
not God Himself exist before man — since cer-
tainly there is no man who is not from God.
You see then that I do not merely say that
Mary gave birth to one who had existed be-
fore her. not only, I say. one who had existed
before her. but one who was the author of
her being, and that in giving birth to her Cre-
ator, she became the mother of Him who gave
her being : because it was as simple for God
to bring about birth for Himself as for man,
and as easy for Him to arrange that He Him-
self should be bom of mankind, as that a man
should be bom. For the power of God is not
li— :trd in regard to His own Person, as i:
what was allowable to Him in the case of all
others, was not allowable in His own case, and
as if He who in the Divine nature could do all
things as God, was yet unable in His own Per-
son to become God in man. Setting aside then
and rejecting your foolish and feeble and dull
arguments from earthly thir . - - i^ht merely
to put credence in straig:. .:_ ^rd ev-idence
and the naked truth, and to adapt our faith to
those witnesses of God alone, whom God sent,

I GaLtr.4.

and in whose person He Himself, so to speak,
preached. For it is right to believe Him in a
matter concerning knowledge of Himself, as
even,-thing that we know of Him comes from
Him Himself, for God could not possibly be
known of men. unless He Himself save us the
knowledge of Himself. And so it is right that
we should believe everything of Him that we
know, from whom comes evervthins: that we
know, for if we do not believe Him from whom
our knowledge comes, the result will be that
we shall know nothing at all. since we refuse
to believe Him. through whom our knowledge
comes.

CHAPTER, in.

He proves fixan flie Episue tc trie Rciraiis the eternal
Diviniry of Christ.

Ajnt) so as it is clear from the above testi-
mony that God sent His own Sen, and that
He who was ever the Son of God became the
Son of man, let us see whether the same
Apostle gives any other testimony of the same
sort elsewhere, that the truth which is already
clear enough in itself, may be rendered still
more clear by the light of a twofold testimony.
So then the same Apostle says: "God sent
His own Son in the likeness cf sinful iiesh."-
You see that the Apostle certainly did not
use these words by chance or at random, as
he repeated what he had already said once
— for indeed there could not be found in him
chance or want of consideration as the fulness
of Divine counsel and si)eech had taken up its
abode in him. What then does he say r " God
sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful
ilesh." He says the same thing again and re-
peats it. sa\-ing, '' God sent His own Son."
Oh renowned and excellent teacher ! for
knowing that in this is contained the whole
myster\- ' of the Catholic faith, in order that it
might be believed that the Lord was bom in
the tiesh and that the Son of God was sent into
this world, again and again he makes the same
proclamation sa\-ing. " God sent His own
Son." Xor need we wonder that he who was
specially sent to preach the coming of God.
made this announcement, since even before
the law. the giver of the law himself proclaimed
it, sa\-ing : " I beseech Thee, O Lord, pro\'ide
another whom Thou mayest send," or as it
stands still more clearly in the Hebrew text :
" I beseech Thee, O Lord, send whom Thou
wilt send," * It is clear that the holy prophet.

- Rom.

rm. J.

' Sacraimentiaii.

* Eiod.

. ir. 13. Where the LXX- has SeopMi. cvpu, -poxfi^urai

Swwnttitmi

mJJkow or «xa«T€Acit, wfaicfa

. «as followed by

the

passage ootrectlv from

th«

Hdxew:

"ofasecTO, Doniae, mitte on

warn, ■mm Mb es."

the

BOOK IV.

feeling in himself a yearning for the whole
human race, prayed as it were •with the voices
of all mankind to God the Father th2.t He
would send as sf>eedily as possible Him who
was to be sent by the Father for the redemj>
tion and salvation of all men, when he said.
'• I beseech Thee, O Lord, send whom Thou
wilt send." "God," he therefore says, "sent
His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh."
Full well, when he says that He was sent in
the flesh, does he exclude for Him sin of the
flesh : for he says " God sent His own Son in
the likeness of the flesh of sin.'* in order that
we may know that though the flesh was trjly
taken. yet there was no true sin, and that, as
far as the body is concerned, we should under-
stand that there was realit}- ; as far as sin is
concerned, only the likeness of sin. For though
all flesh IS sinful, yet He had flesh without
sin. and had in Himself the likeness of sinful
flesh, while He was in the flesh ; but He was
free from what was truly sin. because He was
without sin : and therefore he says : " God
sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful
flesh. ■-■

CHAPTER IV.

He briags forward othe- testimoEdes lo the ssme riew.

If vou would know how admirably the
Apostle preached this, hear how this utter-
ance was put into his mouth ; as if from the
mouth of God Himself, as the Lord says :
•■ For God sent not His Son into the world to
iudge the world, but that the world might be
saved through Him." ^ For lo. as you see.
the Lord Himself amrms that He was sent by
God the Father to save mankind. But if you
think that it ought to be shown still more
clearlv. what Son God sent to save men. —
though God's own and only begouen can only
be one, and when God is said to have sent
His Son. He is certainly shown to have sent
His only begotten Son. — yet hear the prophet
I>avid j>ointing out with the utmost clear-
ness Him who was sent for the salvation of Men.
*• He sent." said he, ** His Word and healed
them." - Can you twist this so as to refer it to
the flesh as if you could say that a mere man
was sent bv God to heal mankind ? You cer-
tainlv cannot, for the prophet David and all
•the holv Scriptures would cry out against you.
saving. '•■ He sent His Word and healed them."
You see then, that the Word was sent to heal
men. for though healing was given through
Christ, vet the Word of God was in Chris:,
and healed all things through Christ: and s:

since Christ and the Word were united in the
mystery of the Incarnation, Christ and the
Word of God became one Son of God in
either substance. .\nd when the Apostle
John was anrious to state this clearly, he said
" God sent His Son to be the r- of the

world."* Do you see howhe j-.; -gether

God and man in an union that cannot be
severed ? For as bom of Mary

is without the :;..i...-;: ^.-.jt called Sa^-iour,
as it is said. "For to you is bom this day a
Sa\-iour, which is Christ the Lord." * But here
he calls the ver}- Word of God. -r '^ ' is sent,
a Sa\-iour, sapng : ~ God sent :. . : :: to be
the Saviour of the world."

CHAPTER V.

— IS - ^v'u Cm <7Cm.u

Ajnd so it is dear that through the mystery
of the Word of God joined to man. the >\"ord,
which was sent to save men. can be termed
Saviour, and the Saviour, who was bom in tihe
flesh, can through union with the Word be
called the Son of God : and so through tbe
indifierent use of either title, since God is
joined to roan, whatever is God and man. can
be termed altogether God.* Ar ' t same

Apostle well adds the words: • -.-..ver be-
lieveth that Jesus is the Son of God, God
abideth in him, and the love of God is per-
fecte- '" --n." * He tells us that Ae believes,
and ts that Ad is fllled with divine love,

who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.
But he testifies that the Word of God is the
Son of God. and thus means us fuliy to under-
stand that the only begotten Word of God,
and Jesus Christ the Son of God are one and
the same Person. But do you want to be told
more fully that. — though Christ according to
the flesh was truly bom as man of man. — yet
in ^"irrue of the ineffable unity of tr
bv which man was joined to God. t-_: _ _- _.
separation between Christ and the Word ? Hear
the gospel of the Lord, or rather hear the Lord

* I Jobs rr. li.

s Cl Hooker Ecd

aB«c irbeii ve sjr?V
odier's toooi. so thsi
saxih-- -'-^ ^ - -

create.

a.:-

- S John H. 17.

* Ps. cri. (cri.) 20.

I Jofan rr. u.

576

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

Himself saying of Himself: ^ "This," says He,
"is life eternal, that they may know Thee, the
only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou
hast sent." ^ You heard above that the Word
of God was sent to heal mankind : here you
are told that He who was sent is Jesus Christ.
Separate this, if you can, — though you see
that so great is the unity of Christ and the
Word, that it was not merely that Christ was
united with the Word, but that in virtue of the
actual unity [of Person] Christ may even be
said to be the \^'ord.

CHAPTER VI,

That there is in Christ but one Hypostasis (i.e., Personal

self).

But perhaps you think it a trifle to make
this clear : ncft because it fails in clearness,
but because the obscurity of unbelief always
causes obscurity even in what is clear. Hear
then how the Apostle sums up in a few words
this whole mystery of the Lord's unity [of
Person]. " Our one Lord Jesus Christ," he
says, " by whom are all things." ^ O good
Jesus, what weight there is in Thy words !
For Thine they are, when spoken of Thee by
Thine own. See how much is embraced in
the few words of this saying of the Apostle's.
" One Lord," says he, " Jesus Christ, by whom
are all things." Did he make use of any cir-
cumlocution in order to proclaim the truth of
this great mystery ? ■* or did he make a long
story of that which he wanted us to grasp .''
"Our one Lord," he says, "Jesus Christ, by
whom are all things." In a plain and short
phrase he taught the secret of this great mys-
tery, through this confidence by which he
realized that in what refers to God his state-
ments had no need of lengthened arguments,
and that the Divinity added faith to his utter-
ances. For the demonstration of facts is
enough to confirm what is said, whenever the
proof rests on the authority of the speaker.
There is then, he siys, "one Lord Jesus
Christ, by whom are all things." Notice how
you read the same thing of the Word of the
Father, which you read of Christ. For the
gospel tells us that " All things were made
by Him, and- without Him was not anything
made."^ The Apostle says, " By Christ are all
things : " the gospel says, " By the Word are
all things." Do these sacred utterances con-
tradict each other ? Most certainly not. But
by Christ, by whom the Apostle said that all

^ Be se dicentem (Petschenig) : Gazaeus reads descendentem.
2 S. John xvii. 3. < Taiiti uiysterii sacramentum.

' I Cor. viii. 6. e g. John i. 3.

I things were created, and by the \^'ord, bv
j whom the Evangelist relates that all things
, were made, we are meant to understand one
j and the same Person. Hear, I tell you, what
\ the Word of God, Himself God, has said of
Himself. " No man," he saith, " hath ascended
into heaven, save He who came down from
heaven, even the Son of man, who is in
I heaven." ® And again He says : " If ye shall
see the Son of man ascending where He v.as
before." ^ He said that the Son of man v.'as
in heaven : He asserted that the Son of man
had come down from heaven. What does it
mean ? Why are you muttering ? Deny it, if
you can. But do you ask the reason of what
is said ? However I do not give it you. Gcd
has said this. God has spoken this to me :
His Word is the best reason. I get rid of
arguments and discussions. The Person of the
Speaker alone is enough to make me believe.
I may not debate about the trustworthiness of
what is said, nor discuss it. 'V\'hy should I
question whether what God has said is true,
since I ought not to doubt that what God says
! is true. " No man," He says, "hath ascended
into heaven, save He who came down from
heaven, even the Son of man, who is in
heaven." Certainly the Word of the Father
was ever in heaven : and how did He assert
that the Son of man was ever in heaven ? Ycu
are then to understand that He showed that
He who was ever the Son of God was also the
Son of man : when He asserted that He, who
had but recently appeared as the Sen of man,
was ever in heaven. To this points still mere
that other passage in which He testifies that
the same Son of man ; viz., the \^'ord of God
who, as He said, came down from heaven,
even at the time when He was speaking on
earth, was in heaven. For "no man," He
said, "hath ascended into heaven, save He who
came down from heaven, even the Son of man
who is in heaven." 'U'ho, I pray you, is this
who is speaking? Assuredly it is Christ.
But where was He at the moment when He
spoke ? Assuredly on earth. And how can
He assert that He came down from heaven
when He was born, and that He was in heaven
when He was speaking, or say that He is the
same Son of man, when certainly no one but
God can come down from heaven, and when
He speaks on earth, and certainly cannot be
in heaven except through the Infinite nature,
of God? Consider then this at last, and note
that the Son of man is the same Person as the
Word of God: for He is the Son of man since
He is truly born of man, and the \\'ord of
God, since He who speaks on earth abideth

* S. John iii. 13.

^ S. John vi. 63.

BOOK IV.

577

ever in heaven. And so when He truly terms
Himself the Son of man, it refers to His
human birth, while the fact that He never
departs from heaven, refers to the Infinite
character of His Divine nature. And so the
Apostle"s teaching is admirably in accordance
with those sacred words: ("for He that de-
scended," says He, " is the same that ascended
also above all heavens, that He might lill all
things," ^) when He says that He that de-
scended is the same that ascended. But none
can descend from heaven except the Word of
God : who certainly " being in the form of God,
emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant,
being made in the likeness of men, and being
found in fashion as a man, He humbled Him-
self, and became obedient unto death, even the
death of the Cross." - Thus the Word of God
descended from heaven : but the Son of man
ascended. But He says that the same Person
ascended and descended. Thus you see that
the Son of man is the same Person as the
Word of God.

CHAPTER VII.

He returns to the former subject, in order to show against the
Nestorians that those things are said of the man, which be-
long to the Divine nature as it were of a Person of Divine
nature, and conversely that those things are said of God,
which belong to the human nature as it were of a Person of
human nature, because there is in Christ but one and a
single Personal self.

And so following the guidance of the sacred
word we may now say fearlessly and unhesi-
tatingly that the Son of man came down from
heaven, and that the Lord of Glory was cruci-
fied : because in virtue of the mystery of the
Incarnation, the Son of God became Son of
man, and the Lord of Glory was crucified in
(the nature of) the Son of man.^ What more
is there need of ? It would take too long
to go into details : for time would fail me,
were I to try to examine and explain every-
thing which could be brought to bear on this
subject. For one who wished to do this
would have to study and read the whole Bible.
For what is there which does not bear on this,

1 Eph. iv. lo. 2 Pliil. ii. 6-8.

3 See Hooker as above (V. liii. 4) " When the Apostle saith of
the Jews that they crucified the Lord of Glon,', and when the Son
of man being on earth affirmeth that the Son of man was in heaven
at the same instant, tliere is in these two speeches that mutual cir-
culation before mentioned. In the one, there is attributed to God
or the Lord of Glory death, whereof Divine nature is not capable ;
in the other iibiquitv unto man which human nature adniitteth not.
Therefore by the Lord of Glory we must needs understand the
whole person of Christ, who being Lord of Glory, was indeed
crucified, but not in that nature for which he is termed the Lord of
Glory. In like manner by the Son of man the whole person of
Christ must necessarily be meant, who being man upon earth, filled
heaven with his glorious presence, but not according to that nature
for which the title of man is given Him."

when all Scripture was written with reference
to this ? We must then say — as far as can be
said — some things briefiy and cursorily, and
enumerate rather than explain them, and sac-
rifice some to save the rest, as for this reason
it would certainly be well hurriedly to run
through some points, lest one should be
obliged * to pass over almost everything in
silence. The Saviour then in the gospel says
that " the Son of man is come to save what
was lost."'' And the Apostle says : " This is
a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation ;
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners, of whom I am chief." ° But the Evan-
gelist John also says : " He came unto his own,
and His own received Him not."'' You see
then that Scripture says in one place that -cite
Son of man, in another Jesus Christ, in an-
other the W'ord of God came into the world.
And so we must hold that tha difference is
one of title not of fact, and that under the
appearance of different names there is but one
Power [or Person]. For though at one time
we are told that the Son of man, and at an-
other that the Son of God came into the
world, but one Person is meant under both
names.

CHAPTER VIIL

How this interchange of titles does not interfere with His
Divine power.

For certainly when the evangelist says that
He came into the world by whom the world
itself was made, and that He was made the Son
of man, who is as God the creator of the
world, it makes no difference what particular
title is used, as God in all cases is meant.
For His condescension and will do not inter-
fere with His Divinity, since they the rather
prove His Divinity, because whatever He
willed came to pass. Therefore also because
He willed it. He came into the world ; and
because He willed it. He was born a man ;
and because He willed it, He was termed the
Son of man. For just as there are so many
words, so are they powers belonging to God.
The variety of names in Him does not take
anything away from the efficacy of His power.
Whatever may be the names given Him, in all
cases it is one and the same Person. Though
there may be some variety in the appearance
of His titles, yet there is but a single Divine
Person (Majestas) meant by all the names.

* N'e necesse sit (Petschenig).
0 S. Luke xix. 10.

^ I Tim. i. 15.
' S. John i. 1 1.

578

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER IX.

He corroborates this statement by the authority of the old

prophets.

But since up to this point we have made
use more particularly of the witness, compara-
tively new, of evangelists and apostles, now
let us bring forward the testimony of the old
prophets, intermingling at times new things
with old, that everybody may see that the holy
Scriptures proclaim as it were with one mouth
that Christ was to come in the flesh, with a
body of His own complete. And so that far-
famed and renowned prophet as richly en-
dowed with God's gifts as with his testimony,
to whom alone it was given to be sanctified
before His birth,^ Jeremiah, says, "This is
our Lord, and there shall no other be ac-
counted of in comparison with Him. He
found out all the way of knowledge and gave
it to Jacob His servant and Israel His be-
loved. Afterwards He was seen upon earth
and conversed with men." ^ " This is," then,
he says, "our Ggd." You see how the
prophet points to God as it were with his
hand, and indicates Him as it were with his
finger. "This is," he says, " our God." Tell
m'd then, who was it that the prophet showed
by these signs and tokens to be God ? Surely
it was not the Father ? For what need was
there that He should be pointed out, whom
all believed that they knew ? For even then
the Jews were not ignorant of God, for they
were living under God's law. But he was
clearly aiming at this, that they might come to
know the Son of God as God. And so excel-
lently did the Prophet say that He who had
found out all knowledge, i.e., had given the
law, was to be seen upon earth, i.e., was to
come in the flesh, in order that, as the Jews
did not doubt that He who had given the law
was God, they might recognize that He who
was to come in the flesh was God, especially
since they heard that He, in whom they be-
lieved as God the giver of the law, was to be
seen among men by taking upon Him man-
hood, as He Himself promises His own advent
by the prophet : " For I myself that spoke,
behold I am here." ^ " There shall then,"
says the Scriptures, " be no other accounted of

1 Cf. Jer. i. 5.

2 The passage comes not from Jeremiah, but from Bariich (iii. 36-
jS). It is also quoted as from Jeremiah by Augustine (c. Faustin.
xii. c. 43) : and in the LXX. version tlie Ijook of liaruch is placed
among the works of Jeremiah, e.g.. In both tlie Vatican and .Alex-
andrine MSS. they stand in the following order: (i) Jeremiah, (2)
Baruch, (3) Lamentations, (4) the Kpistle of Jeremy (Baruch c. vi. in
A. v.). i'he passage which Cassian here quotes is constantly ap-
pealed to by both Greek and Latin Fathers, as a prophecy of the
Incarnation. See e.g. S. Augustine (I.e.) S. Chiysost. " Ecloga"
Hom. xxxiv. Rufinus in. Symb. § 5.

•* Isa. Hi. 6.

in comparison of Him." Beautifully does the
prophet here foresee false teaching, and so ex-
clude the interpretations of heretical perverse-
ness. " There shall no other be accounted of
in comparison of Him." For He is alone be-
gotten to be God of God : at whose bidding
the completion of the universe followed : whose
will is the beginning of things : whose empire
is the fabric of the world : who spake all things,
and they came to pass : commanded all things,
and they were created. He then alone it is
who spake to the patriarchs, dwelt in the
prophets, was conceived by the Spirit, born of
the Virgin Mary, appeared in the world, lived
among men, fastened to the wood of the cross
the handwriting of our offences, triumphed in
Himself,'* slew by His death the powers that
were at enmity and hostile to us ; and gave to
all men belief in the resurrection, and by the
glory of His body put an end to the corruption
of man's flesh. You see then that all these
belong to the Lord Jesus Christ alone : and
therefore no other shall be accounted of in
comparison with Him, for He alone is God be-
gotten of God in this glory and unique bless-
edness. This then is what the prophet's
teaching was aiming at ; viz., that He might
be known by all men to be the only begotten
Son of God the Father, and that when they
heard that no other was accounted of as God
in comparison with the Son, they might con-
fess that there was but one God in the Persons
of the Father and the Son. " After this," he
said, " He was seen upon earth and conversed
with men." You see how plainly this points
to the advent and nativity of the Lord. For
surely the Father — of whom we read that He
can only be seen in the Son — was not seen
upon earth, nor born in the flesh, nor con-
versed with men ? Most certainly not. You
see then that all this is spoken of the Son of
God. For since the prophet said that God
should be seen upon earth, and no other but
the Son was seen upon earth, it is clear that
the prophet said this only of Him, of whom
facts afterwards proved that it was spoken.
For when He said that God should be seen,
He could not say this truly, except of Him
who was indeed afterwards seen. But enough
of this. Now let us turn to another point.
"The labour of Egypt," says the prophet
Isaiah, " and the merchandise of Ethiopia and
of the Sabteans, men of stature, shall come
over to thee and shall be thy servants. They
shall walk after thee, bound with manacles,
and they shall worship thee, and they shall
make supplication to thee : for in thee is God,
and there is no God beside thee. For thou

« Cf. Col. ii. 14, 15.

BOOK IV.

579

art our God and we knew thee not, O God of
Israel the Saviour." ^ How wonderfully con-
sistent the Holy Scrijitures always are ! For
the lirst mentioned prt)phet said, "This is our
God," and this one says, " Thou art our God."
In the one there is the teaching of Divinity, in
the other the confession of men. The one
exhibits the character of the Master teaching,
the other that of the people confessing. For
consider now the prophet Jeremiah daily teach-
ing, as he does, in the church, and saying of
the Lord Jesus Christ, "This is our God,"
what else could the whole Church reply, as it
does, than what the other prophet said to the
Lord Jesus, "Thou art our God." So that
full well could the mention of their past igno-
rance be joined to their present acknowledg-
ment, in the words of the people : " Thou art
our God, and we knew thee not." For well
can these who, in times past being taken up
with the superstitions of devils did not know
God, yet when now converted to the faith say,
" Thou art our God, and we knew thee not."

CHAPTER X.

He proves Christ's Divinity from the blasphemy of Judaizing
Jews as well as from the confession of converts to the faith
of Christ.

But if you would like to have this proved
to you rather from representatives of the Jews,
consider the Jewish people when after their
unhappy ignorance and wicked persecution
they were converted, and acknowledged God
here and there, and see whether they could
not rightly say, " Thou art our God, and we
knew Thee not." But I will add something
else, to prove it to you not only from those
Jews who confess Him, but also from those
who deny Him. For ask those Jews who still
continue in their state of unbelief whether
they know or believe in God. They will cer-
tainly confess that they both know and believe
in Him. But on the other hand ask them
whether they believe in the Son of God. They
will at once deny and begin to blaspheme
against Him. You see then that the Prophet
said this of Him of whom the Jews have
always been ignorant, and whom now they
know not ; and not of Him whom they imagine
that they believe in and confess. And so full
well can those, who after having been in igno-
rance come out of Judaism to the faith, say,
"Thou art our God, and we knew Thee not."
For rightly do those, who after having been
ignorant come to believe, say that they knew
not Him in whom up to this time they have
not believed, and whom they strive not to

1 Isa. xiv. 14, 15.

know. For it is clear that those who after
their previous ignorance come to confess Him,
say that formerly they knew Him not, whom
up to this time they have ignorantly denied.

CHAPTER XI.

He returns to the prophecy of Isaiah.

"The labour," says he, "of Egypt, and the
merchandize of Ethiopia, and the Sabajans,
men of stature shall come over to thee." No
one can doubt that in these names of different
nations is signified the coming of the nations
who were to believe. But you cannot deny
that the nations have come over to Christ, for
since the name of Christianity has arisen, they
have come over to the Lord Jesus Christ not
only in faith but actually in name. For since
they are called what they really are, that which
was the work of faith becomes the token by
which they are named. " They shall," he says,
"come over to thee and shall be thine: they
shall walk after thee bound with manacles."
As there are chains of coercion, so too there
are chains of love, -as the Lord says : " I drew
them with chains of love." ^ For indeed great
are these chains, and chains of ineffable love,
for those who are bound with them rejoice in
their fetters. Do you want to know whether
this is true ? Hear how the Apostle Paul
exults and rejoices in his chains, when he
says : " I therefore a prisoner in the Lord be-
seech you."^ And again: "I beseech thee,
whereas thou art such an one as Paul the aged,
and now a prisoner also of Jesus Christ." *
You see how he rejoiced in the dignity of his
chains, by the example of which he actually
stirred up others. But there can be no doubt
that where there is single-minded love of the
Lord, there is also single-minded delight in
chains worn for the Lord's sake : as it is writ-
ten: " But the multitude of the believers was
of one heart and one soul." ^ "And they
shall worship thee," he says, "and shall make
supplication to thee : for in thee is God, and
there is no God beside thee." The Apostle
clearly explains the prophet's words, when he
says that " God was in Christ reconciling the
world to Himself." '^ "In Thee then,'" he says,
" is God and there is no God beside thee."
When the prophet says " In Thee is God,"
most admirably does he point not merely to
Him who was visible, but to Him who was in
what was visible, distinguishing the indweller
from Him in whom He dwelt, by pointing out
the two natures, not by denying the unity (of
Person).

- Hosea xi. 4.
3 Eph. iv. I.

•• Philemon, ver. 9.
5 Acts iv. 32.

Cor. V. 19.

58o

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER XII.

How the title of Saviour is given to Christ in one sense, and
to men in another.

" Thou," he says, " art our God, and we
knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Sav-
iour." Although holy Scripture has already
shown by many and clear tokens, who is here
spoken of, yet it has most plainly pomted to
the name of Christ by using the name of Sav-
iour: for surely the Saviour is the same as
Christ, as the angel says : " For to you is
born this day a Saviour who is Christ the
Lord." ^ For everybody knows that in Heb-
rew "Jesus" means "Saviour," as the angel
announced to the holy Virgin Mary, saying :
" And thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He
it is that shall save His people from their
sins." '^ And that you may not say that He is
termed Saviour in the same sense as the title
is given to others ("And the Lord raised up to
them a Saviour, Othniel the Son of Kenaz," ^
and again, " the Lord raised up to them a
Saviour, Ehud the son of Gera " ■*), he added :
" for He it is that shall save His people from
their sins." But it does not lie in the power
of a man to redeem his people from the cap-
tivity of sin, — a thing which is only possible
for Him of whom it is said, "Behold the Lamb
of God, which taketh away the sin of the
world." ^ For the others saved a people not
their own but God's, and not from their sins,
but from their enemies.

CHAPTER XIII.

He explains who are those in whose person the Prophet
Isaiah says : '• Thou art our God, and we knew Thee not.''

"Thou art then," he says, "our God, and
we knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Sav-
iour." Who do you imagine chiefly say this;
and in whose mouths are such words specially
suitable, Jews or Gentiles? If you say Jews:
certainly the Jews did not know Christ, as it
is said, " But Israel hath not known Me, My
people have not considered ; " " and, " The
world was made by Him, and the world knew
Him not. He came unto His own, and His

own received Him not." '' But if you say
Gentiles, it is clear that the Gentile world was
given oyer to idols, and knew not Christ,
though it knew not the Father any more ; but
still if it has now come to know Him, it is only
through Christ. You see then that whether
the believing people belong to the Jews or the
Gentiles, in either case they can truly say for
themselves : "Thou art our God, and we knew
Thee not, O God of Israel the Saviour."' For
the Gentiles who formerly worshipped idols
knew not God ; and the Jews who denied the
Lord, knew not the Son of God. And thus
both truly say of Christ: "Thou art our God
and we knew Thee not." For those who did
not believe in God were as ignorant of Him as
those who denied the Son of God. If there-
fore Christ is to be believed in, as the truth
declares, as the Deity asserts, as indeed Christ
Himself declares, who is both, why are you
miserably trying in your madness to interpose
between God and Christ? 'U'hy do you seek
to divide His body from the Son of God, and
try to separate God from Himself? You are
severing what is one, and dividing what is
joined together. Believe the \^'ord of God
concerning God : for you cannot possibly make
a better confession of God's Divinity than by
confessing with your voice that which God
teaches about Himself. For you must know
that, as the Prophet says, "the Lord Himself
is God, who found out all the way of know-
ledge ; who was seen upon earth and conversed
with men." ^ He brought the light of faith
into the world. He showed the light of salva-
tion. " For God is the Lord, and hath given
us light." ^ Then believe Him, and love Him,
and confess Him. For since, as it is written,
" Every knee shall bow to Him, of things in
I heaven, and things on earth, and things under
the earth, and every tongue shall confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord in the glory of God the
Father," ^^ whether you will or no, you cannot
deny that Jesus Christ is Lord in the glory of
God the Father. For this is the crowning
virtue of a perfect confession, to acknowledge
that Jesus Christ is ever Lord and God in the
glory of God the Father.

BOOK V.

CHAPTER I. I ism, strives and contends in every way to make
, .,,,,. it believed that the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son

He vehemently inveighs against the error of the Pelagians, r /-■• i i i c ..i \t- ■ i , «

. who declared that Christ was a mere man. of God, when born of the Virgm was Only a

mere man ; and that having afterwards taken
We said in the first book that that heresy the path of virtue He merited by His holy

which copies and follows the lead of Pelagian-

1 S. I.uke ii. ii.
« S. Matt. i. 21.

" Judges iii. 9.
* lb. ver. 15.

* S. John i. 29.
" Isa. i. 3.

and pious life to be counted worthy for this

'' S. John i. II.
8 Uaruch iii. 37, 38.

8 Ps. cxvii. (cviii.) 27.
" Phil. ii. 10, II.

BOOK V.

5S1

holiness of His life that the Divine Majesty
should unite Itself to Him : and thus by cut-
tin"; olY altoirether from Him the honour of
His sacred origin, it only left to Him the selec-
tion on account of His merits.^ And their
aim and endeavour was this ; viz., that, by
bringing Him down to the level of common
men, and making Him one of the common
herd, they might assert that all men could by |
their good life and deeds secure whatever He
had secured by His good life.^ A most dan-
gerous and deadly assertion indeed, which takes
away what truly belongs to God, and holds
out false promises to men ; and which should
be condemned for abominable lies on both
sides, since it attacks God with wicked blas-
phemy, and gives to men the hope of a false
assurance. A most perverse and wicked asser-
tion as it gives to men what does not belong to
them, and takes away from God what is His.
And so of this dangerous and deadly evil this
new heresy which has recently sprung up,^ is
in a way stirring and reviving the embers, and
raising a fresh fiame from its ancient ashes :
by asserting th?t our Lord Jesus Christ was
born a mere man. And so why is there any
need for us to ask whether its consequences
are dangerous, as in its fountain head it is
utterly wrong. It is unnecessary to examine
what it is like in its issues, as in its commence-
ment it leaves us no reason for examination.
For what object is there in inquiring whether
like the earlier heresy, it holds out the same
promises to man, if (which is the most awful
sin) it takes away the same things from God ?
So that it would be almost wrong, when we see
what it begins like, to ask what there is to fol-
low ; as if some possible way might appear in
the sequel, in which a man who denies God,
could prove that he was not irreligious. The
new heresy then, as we have already many times
declared, says that the Lord Jesus Christ was
born of the Virgin Mary, only a mere man : and
so that Mary should be called Christotocos
not Theotocos, because she was the mother of
Christ, not of God. And further to this blas-
phemous statement it adds arguments that are
as wicked as they are foolish, saying, " No one
ever gave birth to one who was before her."

' See above Book I. cc. ii. iii.

' See below Book VI. c. xiv. For the twofold error of Pelagi-
anism cf. a strikins; article on " Theodore of Mopsnestia and Modern
Thought" ill the Cliurch Quarterly Review, vol. i. .See esp. p. 135 ;
where, spe.iking of Pelagiaiiism, the writer says: "As the hypo-
static union was denied, lest it should derogate from the ethical
completeness of Christ, so the efficacious working of grace must be
explained awav lest it should derogate from the moral dignity of
Christians. The divine and human elements must be kept as jea-
lously apart in the moral life of tlie members as in the person of the
Head of the Church. In the ultimate analysis it must be proved
that the initial movement in every good action came from the human
will itself, though when this was allowed, the grace of God might
receive, by an exact process of assessment, its due share of credit
for the result."

3 Viz., Nestorianism.

As if the birth of the only begotten of God,
predicted by prophets, announced since the
beginning of the w^orld, could be dealt with or
measured by human reasons. Or did the Vir-
gin Mary, O you heretic, whoever you are, who
slander her for her childbearing — bring about
and consummate that which came to pass, by
her own strength, so that in a matter and
event of so great importance, human weak-
ness can be brought as an objection ? And
so if there was anything in this great event
which was the work of man, look for human
arguments. But if everything, which was done,
was due to the power of God, why should you
consider what is impossible with men, when
you see that it ii the work of Divine power?
But of this more anon. Now let us follow up
the subject we began to treat of some little
way back ; that everybody may know that you
are trying to fan the tiame in the ashes of
Pelagianism, and to revive the embers by
breathing out fresh blasphemy.

CHAPTER n.

That the doctrine of Nestorius is closely connected with the
error ot the Pelagians.

You say then that Christ was born a mere
man. But certainly this was asserted by that
wicked heresy of Pelagius, as we clearly
showed in the first book ; viz., that Christ was
born a mere man. You add besides, that
Jesus Christ the Lord of all should be termed
a form that received God (OfO()o;^o.j, i.e., not
God, but the receiver of God, so that your view
is that He is to be honoured not for His own
sake because He is God, but because He re-
ceives God into Himself. But clearlv this also
was asserted by that heresy of which I spoke
before ; viz., that Christ was not to be wor-
shipped for His own sake because He was
God, but because owing to His good and pious
actions He won this ; viz., to have God dwell-
ing in Him. You see then that you are belch-
ing out the poison of Pelagianism, and hissing
with the very spirit of Pelagianism. Whence
it comes that you seem rather to have been
already judged, than to have now to undergo
judgment, for since your error is one and the
same, you must be believed to fall under
the same condemnation : not to mention for the
present that you compare the Lord to a statue
of the Emperor, and break out into such
wicked and blasphemous impieties that you
seem in this madness of yours to surpass even
Pelagius himself, who surpassed almost every
one else in impiety.

582

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

CHAPTER III.

How this participation in Divinity wliich the Pelagians and
Nestorians attribute to Christ, is common to all holy men.

You say then that Christ should be termed
a form which received God (9f 01)0/05), i.e.,
that He should be revered not for His own sake
because He is God, but because He received
God within Him. And so in this way you
make out that there is no difference between
Him and all other holy men : for all holy men
have certainly had God within them. For we
know well that God was in the patriarchs, and
that He spoke in the prophets. In a word we
believe that, I do not say apostles and martyrs,
but, all the saints and servants of God have
within them the Spirit of God, according to
this : " Ye are the temple of the living God :
as God said. For I will dwell in them." ^ And
again : " Know ye not that ye are the temple
of God, and the Spirit of God dwelleth in
you ? " ^ And thus we are all receivers of God
(QeoSo/oi) ; and in this way you say that all
the saints are only like Christ, and equal to
God. But away with such a wicked and
abominable heresy as that the Creator should
be compared to His creatures, the Lord to
His servants, the God of things earthly and
heavenly, to earthly frailty : and out of His
very kindnesses this wrong be done to Him ;
viz., that He who honours man by dwelling in
him should therefore be said to be only the
same as man.

CHAPTER IV.

What the difference is between Christ and the saints.

Moreover there is between Him and all
the saints the same difference that there is
between a dwelling and one who dwells in it,
for certainly it is the doing of the dweller not
the dwelling, if it is inhabited, for on him
it depends both to build the house and to
occupy it. I mean, that he can choose, if he
will, to make it a dwelling, and when he has
made it, to live in it. " Or do you seek a
proof," says the Apostle, " of Christ speaking
in me ? " '^ And elsewhere, " Know ye not
that Jesus Christ is in you except ye be repro-
bate ?"^ And again : "in the inner man, that
C'hrist may dwell in your hearts by faith." ^
Do you not see what a difference there is
between the Apostle's doctrine and your blas-
phemies ? You say that God dwells in Christ
as in a man. He testifies that Christ Himself
dwells in men : which certainly, as you admit,

5 Eph. iii. 16, 17.

' 2 Cor. vi. 16.
2 I Cor. iii. i6.

' 2 Cor. xiii. 3.
* lb. ver. 5.

flesh and blood cannot do ; so that He is
shown to be God, from the very fact from
which you deny Him to be God. For since
you cannot deny that He who dwells in man is
God, it follows that we must believe that He,
whom we know to dwell in men, is most de-
cidedly God. All, then, whether patriarchs,
or prophets, or apostles, or martyrs, or saints,
had every one of them God within him, and
were all made sons of God and were all re-
ceivers of God { Sfodu}(oi), but in a very differ-
ent and distinct way. P'or all who believe in
God are sons of God by adoption : but the
only begotten alone is Son by nature : who was
begotten of His Father, not of any material
substance, for all things, and the substance of
all things exist through the only begotten Son
of God — and not out of nothing, because He
is from the Father : not like a birth, for there
is nothing in God that is void or mutable, but
in an ineffable and incomprehensible manner
God the Father, wherein He Himself was
ingenerate, begat his only begotten Son ; and
so from the Most High, Ingenerate, and Eter-
nal Father proceeds the Most High, Only
Begotten, and Eternal Son. Who must be
considered the same Person in the flesh as He
is in the Spirit : and must be held to be the
same Person in the body as He is in glory, for
when He was about to be born in the tiesh,®
He made no division or separation within
Himself, as if some portion of Him was born
while another portion was not born : or as if
some portion of Divinity afterwards came upon
Him, which had not been in Him at His birth
from the Virgin. For according to the Apostle,
" all the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in
Christ bodily." ^ Not that It dwells in Him at
times, and at times dwells not ; nor that It was
there at a later date, and not an earlier one :
otherwise we are entangled in that impious
heresy of Pelagius, so as to say that from a
fixed moment God dwelt in Christ, and that
He then came upon Him ; when He had won
by His life and conversation this ; viz., that
the power of the Godhead should dwell in
Him. These things then belong to men, to
men, I say, not to God, — that as far as human
weakness can, they should humble themselves
to God, be subject to God, make themselves
dwellings for (iod, and by their faith and piety
win this, to have God as their guest and in-
dweller. For in proportion as anyone is fit for
God's gift, so does the Divine grace reward
him : in proportion as a man seems worthy of

' Iiietit credettdiis in coy/>ore qui creditur in iiiajestate, quia
nasciturus in carut' non liivisienctn, etc., (Petsclienig) : Gaza;us
reads Idem credendus in inajestate quia nasciturus in came. Non
divisionem^ etc.

' Col. ii. 9.

BOOK V.

583

God, so does he enjoy God's presence, accord-
ing to the Lord's promise : " If any man love
Me, he will keep My word ; and I and My
Father will come to him and make Our abode
with Him." ^ But very different is the case as
regards Christ ; in whom all the fulness of the
Godhead dwelleth bodily : for He has within
Him the fulness of the Godhead so that He
gives to all of His fulness, and He — as the
fulness of the Godhead dwells in Him — Him-
self dwells in each of the saints in proportion
as He deems them w^orthy of His Presence,
and gives of His fulness to all, yet in such a
way that He Himself continues in all that ful-
ness, — who even when He was on earth in
the flesh, yet was present in the hearts of all
the saints, and lilled the heaven, the earth, the
sea, ave and the whole universe with His in-
finite power and majesty ; and yet was so
complete in Himself that the whole world
could not contain Him. For> how^ever great
and inexpressible whatever is made may be, yet
there are no things so boundless and infinite
as to be able to contain the Creator Himself.

CHAPTER V.

That before His birth in time Christ was always called God by
the prophets.

He it is then of whom the Prophet says :
" For in Thee is God, and there is no God be-
side Thee. For Thou art our God and we
knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Saviour." '^
Who '• afterwards appeared on earth and con-
versed with men." ^ Of whom and in whose
Person the Prophet David also speaks : " From
my mother's womb Thou art my God : " * show-
ing clearly that He who was Lord and man ^
was never separate from God : in whom even
in the Virgin's womb the fulness of the God-
head dwelt. As elsewhere the same Prophet
says : " Truth has sprung from the earth

1 .S. John xiv. 23. 3 Baruch iii. 37.

2 Isa. xlv. 14, 15. •• Ps. xxi. (xxii.) 11.

'' Domiiiicus Homo, literally " the Lordly man." The same
title is used again by Cassian in Book VI. cc. xxi., xxii., and in the
Conferences XI. xiii. It is however an instance of a title which the
mature judgment of the Church has rejected as savouring of an here-
tical interpretation. We learn from Gregory Nazianzen (Orat. 51)
that the Greek equivalent of the title 6 Kupiaicbc arfJpojTro?, was a fa-
vourite term with the ApoUinarians, as it might be taken to favour
their view that the Divinity supplied the place of a human soul in
Christ. It is however freely used by Epiphanius in his Anchoratus,
and is also found in the exposition of faith assigned to Athanasius [
(Migne. Pat. Graec. xxv. p. 197). And Augustine himself actually '
uses the title Dominicus Homo in his treatise on the .Sermon on the
Mouat, Book II. c. vi., though he afterwards retracted the term, see
" Retract," Book I. c. xx. " Non video utrum recte dicatur Homo
Dominicus, qui est mediator Dei et hominum, homo f'hristus Jesus, j
cum sit utique Dominus; Dominicus antem homoquis in ejussancta
familia non potest dici ? Et hoc quidem ut dicerem, npud quos-
dam legi tractores cathoHcos divinorum eloquiorum. Sed iibicunque
hoc dici, dixisse me nolleni. Postea quippe vidi non esse dicendum,
quamvis nonnulla pnssit rationedefendi." The question is discussed
bv S. Thomas, whether the title is rightly applied to Christ and de-
cided by him in the negative. Summa HI. Q. vi. art. 3.

and righteousness hath looked down from
heaven," ^ that we may know that when the
Son of God looked down from heaven (i.e.,
came and descended), righteousness was born
of the tiesh of the Virgin, no phantasm of a
body, but the Truth : for He is the Truth, ac-
cording to His own witness of Truth: "1 am
the Truth and the life." ^ And so as we have
proved in the earlier books that this Truth ;
viz., the Lord Jesus Christ, was God when
born of the Virgin, let us now do as we deter-
mined to do in the book before this, and show
that He who was to be born of the Virgin, was
always declared to be God befor-ehand. And
so the prophet Isaiah says, " Cease ye from
the man whose breath is in his nostrils, for it
is He in whom he is reputed to be ; " or as it
is more exactly and clearly in the Hebrew :
"for he is reputed high."* But by saying
"cease ye," a term which deprecates violence,
he admirably denotes the disturbance of per-
secution. " Cease 5^e," he says, " from the
man whose breath is in his nostrils, for he is
reputed high." Does he not in one and the
same sentence speak of the taking upon Him
of the manhood, and the truth of His God-
head.' '-Cease ye," he says, "from the man
whose breath is in his nostrils, for he is re-
puted high." Does he not, I ask you, seem
plainly to address the Lord's persecutors, and
to say, " Cease ye from the man " whom ye
are persecuting, for this man is God : and
though He appears in the lowliness of human
tiesh, yet He still continues in the high estate
of Divine glory .'' But by saying " Cease ye
from the man whose breath is in his nostrils,"
he admirably showed His m'anhood, by the
clearest tokens of a human body, and this fear-
lessly and confidently, as one who would as
urgently assert the truth of His humanity as
that of His Godhead, for this is the true and
Catholic faith, to believe that the Lord Jesus
Christ possessed the substance of a true
body just as He possessed a true and perfect
Divinity. Unless possibly you think that any-
thing can be made out of the fact that he uses
the word " High " instead of '• God " ; whereas
it is the habit of holy Scripture to put " High "
for "God," as where the prophet says: "the
Most High uttered His voice and the earth
was moved," "^ and " Thou alone art Most High
over all the earth." ^'' Isaiah too, who says
this : " The High and lofty one who inhabit-
eth eternity " : " where we are clearly to under-
stand that as he there puts ^Slost High without
adding the name of God, so here too he speaks
of God by the name of Most High. So then,

" Ps. IxKxiv. (Ixxxv.) 12. ' .S. John xiv. 6.

' Isa. ii. 22. Cf. the note on the Institutes xii. xxxi.

* Ps. xlv. (xlvi.) 7. i*" Ps. Ixxxii. (Ixxxiii.) 19. " Isa. Ivii. 15.

584

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

since the Divine word spoken by the prophet
clearly announced beforehand that the Lord
Jesus Christ would be both God and man, let
us now see whether the New Testament corre-
sponds to and harmonizes with the testimony
of the Old.

CHAPTER VT.

He illustrates the same doctrine by passages from the New
Testament.

"That," says the Apostle John, "which was
from the beginning, which we have heard,
which we have seen with our eyes, which we
have looked upon, and our hands have handled,
of the word of the life : for the life was mani-
fested : and we have seen, and do bear wit-
ness, and declare unto you the life eternal,
which was with the Father, and hath appeared
unto us." ^ You see how the old testimonies
are confirmed by fresh ones, and the support
of the new preaching is given to the ancient
prophecy. Isaiah said : " Cease ye from the
man whose breath is in his nostrils for he is
reputed high." But John says : " That which
was from the beginning, which we have seen
with our eyes, which we have looked upon,
and our hands have handled." The former
said that as man He would be persecuted by
the Jews : the latter declared that as man He
was handled by men's hands. The one pre-
dicted that He whom he announced as man,
would be God Most High : the other asserts
that He whom he showed to have been handled
by men, was ever God in the beginning. It is
then as clear as possible that they both showed
the Lord Jesus Christ to be both God and
man ; and that the same Person was after-
wards man who had always been God, and
thus He was God and man, because God
Himself became man. That then, he says,
" which was from the beginning, which we have
heard, which we have seen with our eyes,
which we have looked upon, and our hands
have handled of the word of life ; and the
life was manifested, and we have seen, and do
bear witness, and declare unto you the life
eternal which was with the Father, and hath
appeared unto us." You see the number of
jDroofs and ways, very different and numerous,
in which that Apostle so well beloved and so
devoted to God, indicates the mystery of the
Divine Incarnation. In the first instance he
testifies that He, who ever was in the begin-
ning, was seen in the flesh. Lest in case it
might not seem sufiicient for unbelievers that
he had spoken of Him as seen and heard, he
supports it by saying that He was handled,

1 1 John i. I, 2.

i.e., touched and felt by his own hands and by
those of others. Admirably indeed by show-
ing how He took flesh, does he shut out the
view of the Marcionites and the error of the
Manichees, so that no one may thmk that a
phantom appeared to men, since an apostle
has declared that a true body was handled by
him. Then he adds "the word of life: and
the life was manifested," and that he saw it,
announced it, and proclaimed it : thus at the
same time carrying out the duties of the faith
and striking the unbelievers with terror, that
while he declares that he proclaims Him, he
may bring home the danger in which he stands,
to the man who will not listen. "We declare
to you," he says, " the life eternal which was
with the Father, and hath appeared to us."
He teaches that that which was ever with the
Father appeared to men : and that which was
ever in the beginning, was seen of men : and
that which was the Word of life without be-
ginning, was handled by men's hands. You
see the number and variety, the particularity
and the clearness of the ways in which he un-
folds the mystery of the flesh joined to God,
in such a way that no one could speak at all
of either without acknowledging both. As the
Apostle himself clearly says elsewhere : " For
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day,
and for ever." ^ This is what he said in the
passage given above: "That which was from
the beginning, our hands have handled." Not
that a spirit can in its own nature be handled :
but that the \^'ord made fiesh was in a sense
handled in the manhood with which it was
joined. And so Jesus is " the same yesterday
and to-day " : i.e., the same Person before the
commencement of the world, as in the flesh ;
the same in the past as in the present, the
same also for ever, for He is the same through
all the ages, as before all the ages. And all
this is the Lord Jesus Christ.

CHAPTER VII.

He shows again from the union in Christ of two natures in one
Person that what belongs to the Divine nature may rightly
be ascribed to man, and what belongs to the human nature
to God.

And how was it the same Person before the
origin of the world, who was but recently born ?
Because it was the same Person, Avho was re-
cently born in human nature, who was God be-
fore the rise of all things. And so the name
of Christ includes everything that the name of
God does ; for so close is the union between
Christ and God that no one, when he uses the
name of Christ can help speaking of God un-

2 Heb. xiii. 8.

BOOK V.

585

der the name of Christ, nor, when he speaks
of God, can he help speaking of Christ under
the name of God. And as through the glory
of His holy nativity the mystery of each sub-
stance is joined together in Him, whatever
was in existence — I mean both human and
Divine — all is regarded as God. And hence
the Apostle Paul seeing with unveiled eyes of
faith the whole mystery of the ineffable glory in
Christ, spoke as follows, in inviting the peoples
who were ignorant of God's goodness to give
thanksgiving to God : " Giving thanks to the
Father, who hath made us worthy to be par-
takers of the lot of the saints in light, who
hath delivered us from the power of darkness,
and hath translated us into the kingdom of the
Son of His love, in whom we have redemption
through His blood, the remission of sins ; who
is the image of the invisible God, the first-born
of every creature : for in Him were all things
created in heaven and on earth, visible and
invisible, whether thrones or dominations, or
powers : all things were created by Him and
in Him. And He is before all, and by Him
all things consist. And He is the head of the
body the Church, who is the beginning, the
first-born from the dead ; that in all things He
may hold the primacy. Because it pleased
the Father that in Him should all fulness
dwell ; and through Him to reconcile all things
unto Himself, making peace through the blood
of His cross, both as to the things on earth,
and the things that are in heaven." •' Surely
this does not need the aid of any further ex-
planation, as it is so fully and clearly expressed
that in itself it contains not merely the sub-
stance of the faith, but a clear exposition of it.
For he bids us give thanks to the Father : and
adds a weighty reason for thus giving thanks ;
viz., because He hath made us worthy to be
partakers with the saints, and hath delivered us
from the power of darkness, hath translated us
unto the kingdom of the Son of His love, in
whom we have redemption and remission of
sins : who is the image of the invisible God,
the first-born of every creature ; for in Him
and through Him were all things created ; of
w^hich He is both the Creator and the ruler :
and what follows after this ? " He is," he
says, " the head of the body the Church : who
is the beginning, the first-born from the dead."
Scripture speaks of the resurrection as a birth :
because as birth is the beginning of life, so
resurrection gives birth unto life. \Mience
also the resurrection is actually spoken of as
regeneration, according to the words of the
Lord : " Verily I say unto you, that ye which
have followed me, in the regeneration when

Ccl.

the Son of man shall sit on the throne of His
glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones,
judging the twelve tribes of Israel." " There-
fore he calls Him the first-born from the dead,
whom he had previously declared to be the
invisible Son and image of God. But who is
the image of the invisible God, except the only-
begotten, the Word of God ? And how can
we say that He rose from the dead, who is
termed the image and word of the invisible
God ? And what is it that follows afterwards ?
" That in all things He may hold the primacy :
for it pleased the Father that in Him should
all fulness dwell, and by Him to reconcile all
things to Himself, making peace through the
blood of His cross, both as to things on earth
and the things that are in heaven." Surely
the Creator of all things has no need of the
primacy in all things .'' Nor He who made
them, of the primacy of those things which
were made by Him ? And how can we say of
the Word, that it pleased God that all fulness
should dwell in Him who was the first-born
from the dead, when He was Himself the
only-begotten Son of God and the Word of
God, before the origin of all things, and had
within Him the invisible Father, and so first
had within Him all fulness, that He might
Himself be the fulness of all things ? And
what next ? " Bringing all things to peace
through the blood of His cross, both things
on earth, and the things which are in heaven."
Certainly he has made it as clear as possible
of whom he was speaking, when he called Him
the first-born from the dead. For are all things
reconciled and brought into peace through the
blood of the Word or Spirit ? Most certainly
not. For no sort of passion can happen to
nature that is impassible, nor can the blood
of any but a man be shed, nor any but a man
die : and yet the same Person who is spoken
of in the following verses as dead, was above
called the image of the invisible God. How
then can this be .'' Because the apostles took
every possible precaution that it might not be
thought that there was any division in Christ,
or that the Son of God being joined to a Son
of man, might come by wild interpretations to be
made into two Persons, and thus He who is in
Himself but one might by wrongful and wicked
notions of ours, be made into a double Person
in one nature. And so most excellently and
admirably does the apostle's preaching pass
from the only begotten Son of God to the Son
of man united to the Son of God, that the ex-
position of the doctrine might follow the actual
course of the things that happened. And so
he continues with an unbroken connexion, and

2 S. Matt. xix. 28.

586

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

makes as it were a sort of bridge, that without
any gap or separation you might find at the
end of time Him whom we read of as in the
beginning of the world ; and that you might
not by admitting some division and erroneous
separation imagine that the Son of God was
one person in the flesh and another in the
Spirit ; when the teaching of the apostle had
so linked together God and man through the
mystery of His birth in the body, so as to show
that it was the same Person reconciling to
Himself all things on the Cross, who had been
proclaimed the image of the invisible God
before the foundation of the world.

CHAPTER VIII.

He confirms the judgment of the Apostle by the authority of

the Lord.

And though this is the saying of an Apos-
tle, yet it is the very doctrine of the Lord.
For the same Person says this to Christians
by His Apostle, who had Himself said some-
thing very like it to Jews in the gospel, when
He said : " But now ye seek to kill me, a man,
who have spoken the truth to you, which I
heard of God : for I am not come of Myself,
but He sent me." -^ He clearly shows that
He is both God and man: man, in that He
says that He is a man : God, in that He
affirms that He was sent. For He must have
been with Him from whom He came : and
He came from Him, from whom He said that
He was sent. Whence it comes that when the
Jews said to Him, " Thou art not yet fifty
years old and hast Thou seen Abraham ? "
He replied in words that exactly suit His
eternity and glory, saying, " Verily, verily, I
say unto you. Before Abraham came into
being, I am.'' - I ask then, whose saying do
you think this is ? Certainly it is Christ's
without any doubt. And how could He who
had been but recently born, say that He was
before Abraham ? Simply owing to the Word
of God, with which He was entirely united, so
that all might understand the closeness of the
union of Christ and God : since whatever God
said in Christ, that in its fulness the unity of
the Divinity claimed for Himself. But con-
scious of His own eternity. He rightly then
when in the body, replied to the Jews, with the
very words which He had formerly spoken to
Moses in the Spirit. For here He says, " Be-
fore Abraham came into being, I am." But
to Moses He says, " I am that I am." ^ He

' S. John viii. 40, 42. ' Ibid. vcr. 5S. ' Exod. iii. 14.

certainly announced the eternity of His Divine
nature with marvellous grandeur of language,
for nothing can be spoken so worthily of God,
as that He should be said ever to be. For
" to be " admits of no beginning in the past
or end in the future. And so this is very
clearly spoken of the nature of the eternal
God, as it exactly describes His eternity.
And this the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, when
He was speaking of Abraham, showed by the
difference of terms used, saying, " Before Abra-
ham came into being I am." Of Abraham he
said, " Before he came into being:" Of Him-
self, " I am," for it belongs to things temporal
to come into being : to be belongs to eternity.
And so " to come into being " He assigns to
human transitoriness : but " to be " to His
own nature. And all this was found in Christ
who, by virtue of the mystery of tlie manhood
and Divinity joined together in Him who ever
"was," could say that He already "was."

CHAPTER IX.

Since those marvellous works which from the days of Moses
were shown to the children cf Israel are attributed to Christ,
it follows that He must have existed long before His birth
in time.

j And when the Apostle wanted to make this
I clear and patent to everybody he spoke as fol-
llows, saying that, "Jesus having saved the
I people out of the land of Egypt afterward
destroyed them that believed not." '^ But else-
, where too we read : " Neither let us tempt
Christ, as some of them tempted, and were
destroyed by serpents." ^ Peter also the chief
of the apostles says : " And now why tempt ye
God to put a yoke upon the neck of the disci-
ples, which neither our fathers nor we have
been able to bear. But we believe that Ave
shall be saved by the grace of our Lord Jesus
Christ even as they were."® We know most
certainly that the people of God were delivered
from Egypt, and led dryshod through mighty
tracts of water, and preserved in the vast desert
wastes, by none but God alone ; as it is writ-
ten : " The Lord alone did lead them, and
there was no strange God among them." ''
And how can an Apostle declare in so
many and such clear passages that the peo-
ple of the Jews were delivered from Egypt
by Jesus, and that Christ was at that time
tempted by the Jews in the wilderness, say-
ing, " Neither let us tempt Christ, as some

■4 S. Jude, ver. 5.

Cor.

X. 9.

' Acts XV. 10, II.
' Deut. xxxii. 12.

BOOK V.

587

of them tempted, and were destroyed of the
serpents ? '' And further the blessed Apostle
Peter says of all the saints who lived under
the law of the Old Covenant that they were
saved by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Get out then, and wriggle out of this if you
can — whoever you are — you who rage with
vapid mouth and a spirit of blasphemy, and
think that there is no difference at all between
Adam and Christ ; and you who deny that He
was God before His birth of the Virgin, show-
clearly how you can prove that He was not
God before His body came into existence.
For lo, an Apostle says that the people were
saved out of the land of Egypt by Jesus : and
that Christ was tempted by unbelievers in the
wilderness : and that our fathers, i.e., the pa-
triarchs and prophets, were saved by the grace
of our Lord Jesirs Christ. Deny it if you can.
I shall not be surprised if you manage to deny
what we all read, as you have already denied
what we all believe. Know then that even then
it was Christ in God who led the people out
of Egypt, and it was Christ in God who was
tempted by the people who tempted, and it
was Christ in God who saved all the righteous
men by His lavish grace : for through the
oneness of the mystery (of the Incarnation)
the terms God and Christ so pass into each
other, that whatever God did, that we may
say that Christ did ; and whatever afterwards
Christ bore, we may say that God bore. And
so when the prophet said, "There shall no
new God be in thee, neither shalt thou worship
any other God,'' ^ he announced it with the
same meaning and in the same spirit as that
with which the Apostle said that Christ was |
the leader of the people of Israel out of
E^ypt ; to show that He who was born of the •
Virgin as man, was even through the unity of
the mystery still in God. Otherwise, unless [
we believe this, we must either believe with
the heretics that Christ is not God, or against
the teaching of the prophet hold that He is a !
new God. But may it be far from the Catho- !
lie people of God, to seem either to differ from |
the prophet or to agree with heretics : or per- 1

chance the people who should be blessed may
be involved in a curse, and be charged with
putting their hope in man. For whoever de-
clares that the Lord Jesus Christ was at His
birth a mere man, is doubly liable to the curse,
whether he believes in Him or not. For if he
believes, " Cursed is he who puts his hope in
man." ^ But if he does not believe, none the
less is he still cursed, because though not be
lieving in man, he still
God.

has altogether denied

' Ps. Ixxx. (Ixxxi.)- lo-

Jer. xvii. 5.

CHAPTER X.

He explains wliat it means to confess, and what it means to
dissolve Jesus.

For this it is which John, the man so dear
to God, foresaw from the Lord's own revela-
tion to him and so spoke of Mini, who was
speaking in him. "Every spirit," he says,
'•which confesseth Jesus come in the flesh is of
God, and every spirit that dissolveth Jesus is
not of God : and this is the .spirit of Antichrist,
of whom you have heard already, and he is
now already in the world.'"* O the marvel-
lous and singular goodness of God, who like
a most careful and skilful physician, foretold
beforehand the diseases that should come
upon His Church, and when He showed the
mischief beforehand, gave in showing it,
a remedy for it : that all men when they saw
the evil approaching, might at once flee as far
as possible from that which they already knew
to be imminent. And so Saint John says,
" Every spirit that dissolveth Jesus is not of
God; and this is the spirit of Antichrist."
Do you recognize him, O you heretic ? Do
you recognize that it is plainly and markedly
spoken of you ? For no one thus dissolves
Jesus but he who does not confess that Fie is
God, For since in this consists all the faith
and all the worship of the Church ; viz., to
confess that Jesus is very God ; who can
more dissolve His glory and worship than
one who denies the existence in Him of all
that we all worship.? Take then, I beseech
you, take care lest any one may even term
you Antichrist. Do you think that I am re-
viling and cursing ? What I am saying is not
my own idea : for lo, the Evangelist says,
" Every one that dissolveth Jesus is not of
God; and this is Antichrist." If you do not
dissolve Jesus, and deny God, no one may call
you Antichrist. But if you deny it why do
you accuse any one for- calling you Antichrist .'
While you are denying it, I declare you have
said it of yourself. Would you like to know
whether this is true ? Tell me, when Jesus
was born of a Virgin, what do you make Him
to be — man or God ? If God only, you cer-
tainly dissolve Jesus, as you deny that in Him
manhood was joined to Divinity. But if you
say He was man, none the less do you dissolve
Him, as you blasphemously say that a mere

^ I S. John iv. 2, 3. It will be noticed that Cassian quotes this
passage with the rending " Qui solvit Jcsiim," where tlie Greek has
o fir) o/noAoyet Toi" 'lrj<;ovv. Avd is found in no Greek MS., uncial or
cursive, and the only Greek authority for it is that of Socrates, who
says it was the n-ading in " the old copies." " Qui solvit " was
probably an early gloss, current in very early days in the West, being
found in Tertullian (adv. Marc. v. 16 ;'De Jejun : i.) ar.d in all Latin
MSS. whether of the Vetus or Vulgate (with a single exception),
and finally becoming universal in the Fathers of the Western Church.
Cf. Westcott on the Epp. of S. John, p. 156, sg.

588

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

man (as you will have it) was born. Unless
perhaps you think that you do not dissolve
Jesus, you who deny Him to be God, you who
would certainly dissolve Him even if you did
not deny Hhat man was born together with God.
But possibly you would like this to be made
clearer by examples. You shall have them in
both directions. The Manichees are outside
the Church, who declare that Jesus was God
alone : and the Ebionites, who say that he was
a mere man. For both of them deny and dis-
solve Jesus : the one by saying that He is
only man, the other by saying that He is only
God. For though their opinions were the
opposite of each other, yet the blasphemy of
these diverse opinions is much the same, ex-
cept that if any distinction can be drawn
between the magnitude of the evils, your
blasphemy which asserts that He is a mere
man is worse than that which says that He is
only God : for though both are wrong, yet it is
more insulting to take away from the Lord
what is Divine than what is human. This
then alone is the Catholic and the true faith ;
viz., to believe that as the Lord Jesus Christ
is God so also is He man ; and that as He is
m.an so also is He God. " Every one who dis-
solves Jesus is not of God." But to dissolve
Him is to try to rend asunder what is united
in Jesus ; and to sever what is but one and in-
divisible. But what is it in Jesus that is united
and but one ? Certainly the manhood and the
Godhead. He then dissolves Jesus who severs
these and rends them asunder. Otherwise, if
he does not rend them asunder and sever
them, he does not dissolve Jesus : But if he
rends them asunder he certainly dissolves
Him.-

CHAPTER XL

The mystery of the Lord's Incarnation clearly implies the
Divinity ot Christ.

And so to every man who breaks out into this
mad blasphemy, the Lord Jesus in the gospel
Himself repeats what He said to the Phari-
sees, and declares : " What God hath joined
together, let not man put asunder." ^ For
although where it was originally spoken by
God it seems to be in answer to another mat-
ter, yet the deep wisdom of God which was
speaking not more of carnal than of spiritual
things, would have this to be taken of that
subject indeed, but even more of this : for

' Non negares (Petschenis). Gazaeus has di;negares.
2 The last sentences are placed in brackets by Petschenig.
s S. Matt. xix. 6.

when the Jews of that day believed with you
that Jesus was only a man without Divinity,
and the Lord was asked a question about the
union in marriage, in His teaching He not
only referred to it, but to this also : though
consulted about matters of less importance
His answer applied to greater and deeper
matters, when he said, " What God hath
joined together, let not man put asunder," i.e..
Do not sever what God hath joined together
in My Person. Let not human wickedness
sever that which the Divine Glory hath united
in Me. But if you want to be told more fully
that this is so, hear the Apostle talking about
these very subjects of which the Saviour was
then teaching, for he, as a teacher sent from
God that his weak-minded hearers might be
able to take in his teaching, expounded those
very subjects which God had» proclaimed in a
mystery. For when he was discussing the
subject of carnal union, on which the Saviour
had been asked a question in the gospel, he
repeated those very passages from the old Law
on which He had dwelt, on purpose that they
might see that as he was using the same
authorities he was expounding the same sub-
ject : besides which, that nothing may seem to
be wanting to his case, he adds the mention of
carnal union, and puts in the names of hus-
band and wife whom he exhorts to love one
another : " Husbands, love your wives even as
Christ also loved the Church." And again :
" So also ought men to love their Vv'ives even
as their own bodies. He that loveth.his wife
loveth himself. For no man ever hated his
own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it, as
Christ also doth the Church, for we are mem-
bers of His body."* You see how by adding
to the mention of man and wife the mention of
Christ and the Church, he leads all from tak-
ing it carnally to understand it in a spiritual
sense. For when he had said all this, he
added those passages which the Lord had
applied in the Gospel, saying : " For this
cause shall a man leave his father and his
mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and
they twain shall be one flesh." And after
this with special emphasis he adds : " This is
a great mystery." He certainly altogether
cuts off and gets rid of any carnal interpreta-
tion, by saying that it is a Divine mystery.
And what did he add after this ? " But I am
speaking of Christ and the Church." That is
to say : " But that is a great mj'stery. But I
am speaking of Christ and the Church," i.e.,
since perhaps at the present time all cannot
grasp that, they may at least grasp this, which
is not at variance with it, nor different from it,

< Eph. V. 25-30.

BOOK V.

589

becaus;i both refer to Christ. But because
they cannot grasp those more profound truths,
let them at least take in these easier ones,
that by making a commencement by grasping
what lies on the surface, they may come to the
deeper truths, and that the acquisition of a
somewhat simple matter may open the way in
tinii to what is more profound.

CHAPTER XII.

Ha explains more fully what the mystery is which is signified
under the nam> ot the man and wife.

WH\Tthen is that great mystery which is sig-
nified under the name of the man and his wife .''
Let us ask the Apostle himself, who elsewhere
to teach the sama thing uses words of the
same force, saying: " And evidently great is the
mystery of godliness, which was manifested in
the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels,
preached to the Gentiles, believed on in the
world, received up in glory." ^ What then is
that great mystery which was manifested in
the flesh ? Clearly it was God born of the
flesh, God seen in bodily form : who was
openly received up in glory just as He was
openly manifested in the flesh. This then is
the great mystery, of which he says : " For this
cause shall a man leave his father and mother,
and shall cleave to his wife ; and they two
shall be one flesh." Who then were the two
in one flesh ? God and the soul, for in the one
flesh of man which is joined tb God are pres-
ent God and the soul, as the Lord Himself
says : " No man can take My life (anima)
away from Me. But I lay it down of Myself.
I have power to lay it down, and I have power
to take it again." ^ You see then in this,
three ; viz., God, the flesh, and the soul. It
is God who speaks : the flesh in which He
speaks : the soul of which He speaks. Is He
therefore that man of whom the prophet says :
"A brother cannot redeem, nor shall a man
redeem"?'* Who, as it was said, "ascended
up where He was before," * and of whom we
read : " No man hath ascended into heaven, but
He who came down from heaven, even the Son
of man who is in heaven." ^ For this cause, I
say. He has left his father and mother, i.e.,
God from whom He was begotten and that

1 I Tim. iii. 16. Quod manifestum in carne. The true reading is
pr>t'y certiinlv o?, see Westcott and Hon, Greek Testament, vol. n.,
p. "1^2. The neuter 6 is found in D. and in many Latm Fathers, as
well as the Vulgate. . ^r o t 1 • ^

2 S. John X. iS. ■• Cf. S. John vi. 62.

3 Ps. xlviii. (xlix.). 8. ^ S. John m. 13.

"Jerusalem which is the mother of us all," ^
and has cleaved to human flesh, as to his wife.
And therefore he expressly says in the case of
the father " a man shall leave /j/s father," but
in the case of the mother he does not say
"his," but simply says "mother:" because she
was not so much his mother, as the mother cf
all believers, i.e., of all of us. And He was
joined to his wife, for just as man and wife
make but one body, so the glory of Divinity and
the llesh of man are united and the two, viz.,
God and the soul, become one flesh. For just
as that flesh had God as an indweller in it, so
also had it the soul within it dwelling with
God, This then is that great mystery, to
search out which our admiration for the Apos-
tle summons us, and God's own exhortation
bids us : and it is one not foreign to Christ
and His Church, as he says, " But I am speak-
ing of Christ and the Church." Because the
flesh of the Church is the flesh of Christ, and
in the flesh of Christ there is present God and
the soul : and so the same person is present in
Christ as in the Church, because the mystery
which we believe in the flesh of Christ, is con-
tained also by faith in the Church.

CHAPTER Xin.

Of the longing with which the old patriarchs desired to see the
revelation of that mystery.

This mystery then, which was manifested in
the flesh and appeared in the world, and was
preached to the Gentiles, many of the saints of
old longed to see in the flesh, as they foresaw
it in the spirit. For "Verily," saith the Lord,
" I say unto you fhat many prophets and
rrghteous men have desired to see the things
which ye see, and have not seen them ; and to
hear the things which ye hear and have not
heard them." ^ And so the prophet Isaiah
says : " O that Thou, Lord, would rend the
heavens and come down," ^ and David too:
"O Lord, bow the heavens and' come down." ^
Moses also says : " Show me Thyself that I
may see Thee plainly." ^'^ No one ever ap-
proached nearer to God speaking out of the
clouds, and to the very presence of His glory
than Moses who received the law. And if no
one ever saw more closely into God than he
did, why did he ask for a still clearer vision,
saying, " Show me Thyself that I may see Thee
plainlv " ? Simply because he prayed that this

" Gal. iv. 26.

' S. Matt. xiii. 17.

8 Isa. Ixiv. I. " Exod. xxxiii. 13.

" Ps. xcliii. (cxliv). 5.

590

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

might happen which the apostle tells us in
almost the same words actually did happen :
viz., that the Lord might be openly manifested
in the flesh, might openly appear to the world,
openly be received up in glory ; and that at
last the saints might with their very bodily
eyes see all those things which with spiritual
sight they had foreseen.

CHAPTER XIV.

He refutes the wicked and blasphemous notion of the here-
tics who said that God dwelt and spoke in Christ as in an
instrument or a statue.

Otherwise, as the heretics say, God would
be in the Lord Jesus Christ as in a statue or
in an instrument, i.e.. He would dwell as it
were in a man and speak as it were through a
man, and it would not be He who dwelt and
spoke as God of Himself and in His own
body : and certainly He had already thus
dwelt in the saints and spoken in the per-
sons of the saints. In those men too, of
whom I spoke above, who had prayed for
His advent, He had thus dwelt and spoken.
And what need was there foi> all these to ask
for what they already possessed, if they were
seeking for what they had previously received .''
Or why should they long to see with their eyes
what they were keeping in their hearts, espe-
cially as it is better for a man to have the
same thing within himself than to see it out-
side ? Or if God was to dwell in Christ in the
same way as in all the saints, why should all
the saints long to see Christ rather than them-
selves ? And if they were only to see the
same thing in Jesus Christ, which they them-
selves possessed, why should they not much
rather prefer to have this in themselves than
to see it in another ? But you are wrong, you
wretched madman, "not understanding," as
the Apostle says, " what you say and whereof
you affirm " : ^ for all the prophets and all the
saints received from God some portion of the
Divine Spirit -as they were able to bear it.
But in Christ " all the fulness of the God-
head " dwelt and " dwells bodily." And there-
fore they all fall far short of His fulness, from
whose fulness they receive something : for the
fact that they are filled is the gift of Christ :
because they would all certainly be empty,
were He not the fulness of all.

* I Tim. i. 7.

CHAPTER XV.

What the prayers of the saints for the coming of Messiah
contained ; and what was the nature of tiiat longing of
theirs.

This then all the saints wished for : for this
they prayed. This they longed to see with
their eyes in proportion as they were wise in
heart and mind. And so the prophet Isaiah
says : " O that Thou wouldst rend the heavens
and come down." - But Habakkuk too de-
claring the same thing which the other was
wishing for, says : " When the years draw nigh.
Thou wilt show Th3-self : at the coming of the
times Thou wilt be manifested : God will come
from Teman," or " God will come from the
south." ^ David also : " God will clearly
come : " and again : " Thou that sittest above
the Cherubim, show Thyself." * Some de-
clared His advent which He presented to the
world : others prayed for it. Some in different
forms but all with equal longing : understand-
ing up to a certain point how great a thing
they were praying for, that God dwelling in
God, and continuing in the form and bosom
of God, might " empty Himself," ® and take
the form of a servant and submit Himself to
endure all the bitterness and insults of the pas-
sion, and undergo punishment for His good-
ness, and what is hardest, and the most dis-
graceful thing of all, meet with death at the
hands of those very persons for whom He
would die. All the saints then understandinsf
this up to a certain point — up to a certain
point, I say, for how vast it is none can under-
stand — with concordant voice and (so to speak)
by mutual consent all prayed for the advent
of God : for indeed they knew that the hope of
all men lay therein, and that the salvatioi.
of all was bound up in this, because no one
could loose the prisoners except one who was
Himself free from chains : no one could re-
lease sinners, save one Himself without sin :
for no one can in any case set free anyone,
unless he is himself free in that particular, in
which another is freed by him. And so when
death had passed on all, all were wanting in
life, that, dying in Adam, they might live in
Christ. For though there were many saints,
many elect and even friends of God, yet none
could ever of themselves be saved, had they
not been saved by the advent of the Lord and
His redemption.

- Isa. Ixiv. I.

' Hab. iii. 2, 3, where the Old Latin lias " Theman," and the
Vulgate "Austro."

< Ps. .\lix. (1.) 3 ; lx.\ix. (Ixxx.) 2. ^ Phil. ii. 7.

BOOK VI.

591

BOOK VI.

CHAPTER I.

From the miracle of the fcedinj; of the multitude from five
barley loaves and two fishes he shows the majesty of Divine
Power.

We read in the gospel that when five loaves
were at the Lord's bidding brought to Him,
an immense nmnber of God's people were fed
with them. But hozv this was done it is im-
possible to explain, or to understand or to
imagine. So great and so incomprehensible
is the might of Divine Power, that though we
are perfectly assured of the fact, yet we are
unable to understand the Dianncr of the fact.
For first one would have to comprehend how
so small a number of loaves could be sufificient,
I will not say for them to eat and be filled, but
even to be divided and set before them, when
there were many more thousands of men
than there were loaves ; and almost more
companies than there could be fragments of
the whole number of loaves. The plentiful
supply then was the creation of the word of
the Lord. The work grew in the doing of it.
And though what was visible was but little ;
yet what was given to them became more than
could be reckoned. There is then no room
for conjecture, for human speculation, or imagi-
nation. The only thing in such a case is that
like faithful and wise men we should acknow-
ledge that, however great and incomprehen-
sible are the things which are done by God,
even if they are altogether beyond our com-
prehension, we must recognize that nothing is
impossible with God. But of these unspeak-
able acts of Divine Power, we will, as the sub-
ject demands it, speaks more fully later on,
because it exactly corresponds to the ineffable
miracles of His Holy Nativity.

CHAPTER H.

The author adapts the mystery of the number seven (made up
of theyfz/f loaves and two fishes) to his own work.

Meanwhile as we have alluded to the five
loaves, I think it will not be out of ^place to
make a comparison of the five books which we
have already composed. For as they are
equal in nuniber, so they are not dissimilar in
character. For as the loaves were of barley,
so these books may (as far as my ability is
concerned) be fairly termed "of barley,"
although they are enriched with passages from

Holy Scripture, and contain life-giving trea-
sures in contemptible surroundings. And even
in this point they are not unlike those loaves,
for though they were poor things to look at,
yet they proved to be rich in blessing : and so
these books, though, as far as my powers are
concerned, they are worthless, yet they are
valuable from the sacred matter which is
mingled with them : and though they appear
outwardly worthless like barley owing to my
words, yet within they have the savour of the
bread of life owing to the testimonies from
the Lord Himself. It remains that, after His
example, they may, by the gift of Divine grace,
furnish life-giving food from countless seeds,
And as those loaves supplied bodily strength
to those who ate them, so may these give
spiritual vigour to those who read them. But
as then the Lord, from whom this gift comes
as did that, by means of that food provided
that they might be filled and so should not
faint by the way, so now is He able to bring it
about that by means of this men may be filled
and not err (from the faith). But still because
there, where a countless host of God's people
was fed with a mighty gift, though there was
very little for them to eat, we read that to
those five loaves there were added two fishes, it
is fitting that we too, who are anxious to give
to all God's people who are following, the
nourishment of a spiritual repast, should add
to those five books corresponding to the five
loaves, two more books corresponding to the
two fishes : praying and beseeching Thee, O
Lord, that Thou wilt look on our efforts and
prayers, and grant a prosperous issue to our
pious undertaking. And since we, out of our
love and obedience, desire to make the num-
ber of our books correspond to the number of
loaves and fishes, do Thou grant the virtue
of Thy Benediction upon them ; and, as Thou
dost bless ^ this little work of ours with a gospel
number, so mayest Thou fill up the number
with the fruit of the gospel, and grant that this
may be for holy and saving food to all the
people of Thy Church, of every age and sex.
And if there are some who are affected by the
deadly breath of that poisonous serpent, and
in an unhealthy state of soul and spirit have
caught a pestilential disease in their feeble dis-
positions, give to them all the vigour of health,
and entire soundness of faith, that by grant-
ing to them all, by means of these writings of
ours, the saving care of Thy gift — just as

1 Muneraris, (Petschenig) : Gazxus reads numeraris.

592

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

that food in the gospel was completely sanc-
tified by Thee, so that by eating it those
hungry souls were strengthened, — so inayest
Thou bid languid souls to be healed by these.

CHAPTER III.

He refutes his opponent by the testiomny of the Council
of Antiodi.

Therefore since we have, as I fancy,
already in all the former books with the
weight of sacred testimonies, given a com-
plete answer to the heretic who denies God,
now let us come to the faith of the Creed of
Antioch and its value. For as he ^ was him-
self baptized and regenerated in this, he
ought to be confuted by his own profession,
and (so to speak) to be crushed beneath the
weight of his own arms, for this is the method,
that as he is already convicted by the evi-
dence of holy Scripture, so now he may be
convicted by evidence out of his own mouth.
Nor will there be any need to bring anything
else to bear against him when he has clearly
and plainly convicted himself. The text then
and the faith of the Creed of Antioch is this.-
'• I believe in one and the only true God, the
Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible
and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
His only begotten Son, and the first-born of
every creature, begotten of Him before all
worlds, and not made : Very God of Very God,
Being of one substance with the Father : By
whom both the worlds were framed, and all
things were made. Who for us came, and was
born of the Virgin Mary, and was crucified
under Pontius Pilate and was buried : and

1 Nestorius, who had belonged to the monastery of St. Eupre-
pius near the gate of Antioch before his elevation to the see of
Constantinople.

^ This creed is plainly given by Cassian as the baptismal formula
of the Church of Antioch ; and with it agrees almost verbally a frag-
ment of the Creed preserved in a Contestatio comparing Nestorius
to Paul of Samosata (a.d. 429, or 430) which is said by I^eontius to
have been the work of Eusebius afterward liishop of Dorylseum.
The form is especially interesting as showing that the Creed of
Antioch, in common with several other Eastern Creeds, underwent
revision, probably about the middia of the fourtli century, from the
desire to enrich the local creed with Nicene phraseology. The in-
sertions which are obviously due to the Creed of Nica;aare: non fac-
tum, Deuni verum ex Deo vero, homoousion patri, or as they would
run in the original ov TrotiyfleVTa, %e.'ov aL\r{Q{.vav i< &eov aAiSii'oO,
Of/iOovcLOf ru> llarpi, and it has been suggested that tliey were pro-
bably introduced at tlie Synod held at Antioch under Meletius in 363.
Similar forms of local creeds thus enlarged by the adoption of Nicene
phraseology are (i) that of Jerusalem as given bv Cvril in his Cate-
chetical Lectures, (2) the Creed of Cappadocia, ('3) that of Mesopo-
tamia, and (4) the " Creed of Charisius " preserved in the Acts of
the Council of Epiiesus (Mansi IV. 1348). On all of these see
Dr. Hort's "Two Dissertations," p. no si/.

Another interesting feature in the Creed as given by Cassian is
that it was in the singular " Credo," / helierw ; whereas the Eastern
Creeds are almost all in the plural Tua-rfvoy-tv. That liowever
vi'hich is found in the Apostolical Constitutions (VI I. xli.) has the
singular ttiitteuu) koI ^aTrrit^onai, and therefore it is possible that
Cassian may have preserved the original form here. It is however
more probable that the singular Credo is due to a reminiscence of
the form current in the Western church, which has influenced the
translation. See further Hahn's Bibliothek des Symbole p. 64 sq.

the third day He rose again according to the
Scripture : and ascended into heaven, and
shall come again to judge the quick and the
dead," etc.^ In the Creed which gives the
faith of all the Churches, I should like to know
which you would rather follow, the authority
of men or of God ? Though I would not
press hardly or unkindly upon you, but give
the opportunity of choosing whichever alter-
native you please, that accepting one, I may
deny the other : for I will grant you and
1 yield to vou either of them. And what do I
I grant, I ask ? 1 will force you to one or other
I even against your will. For you ought, if you
like, to understand of your own free will that
one or other of these is in the Creed : if you
don't like it, you must be forced against your
will to see it. For, as you know, a Creed
(Symbolum) gets its name from being a " col-
lection."* For what is called in Greek (jiftF-olo;
is termed in Latin "Collatio." But it is there-
fore a collection (collatio) because when the
faith of the whole Catholic law was collected
together by the apostles of the Lord, all those
matters which are spread over the whole body
of the sacred writings with immense fulness
of detail, were collected together in sum in the
matchless brevity of the Creed, according to
to the Apostle's words : " Completing Flis
word, and cutting it short in righteousness ;
because a short word shall the Lord make
upon the earth." ^ This then is the " short
word " which the Lord made, collecting to-
gether in few words the faith of both of His
Testaments, and including in a few brief
clauses the drift of all the Scriptures, build-
ing up His own out of His own, and giving
the force of the whole law in a most compen-

' Cassian nowhere quotes the last section of the Creed of Anti-
och, as it did not concern the question at issue. A few clauses of it
may however be recovered from S. Chrysostom's Homilies (In
I Cor. Horn. xl. § 2); viz., ko-'l ti? d/uapricov a.<i>faiv Kal cis veKpiiv
avaaTaaiv Ka.\ eis C,u>'r\v aiixn'iov.

* Syiiiholiis, or more commonly and correctly Symbolum (= <rii/i-
|3oAo>') is the general name for the creed in the ancient church, met
with from the days of Cyprian (who uses it more than once, e.g.,
Ep. Ixix.) onwards. In the account which Cassian gives in the text
of the origin of the name he is certainly copying Rufinus (whose ex-
position of the Apostles' Creed is directly quoted by him below in
Book VII. c. xxvii.). The passage which Cassian evidently has in
his mind is the following: " Moreover for many and excellent rea-
sons thev determined that it should be called Symbolum. For ' Sym-
bolum ' in Greek mav mean both Indicium (a token) and collatio (a
collection), that is, that which several bring together into one ; for the
apostles effected this in these sentences by bringing together into
one what each thought good. . . . Therefore being about to depart
to preach, the apostles appointed that token of their unammity and
faith." (Ruf. De Svmb. § 2). Cf. also § i. " In these words there
is truly discovered the prophecy which says: ' Completing Hi.s work
and cutting i» short in righteoiisness, because a short word will the
Lord make upon the earth.' " This explanation, Imwever, of the
origin of the term labours under the fatal mistake of confusing two
distinct Greek words (jv\xfio\r\ a " collection," and a<ni.^oXoy a
"watchword:" and tlie true explanation of the word is probably
that which Rufinus gives as an alternative, which gives it the mean-
ing of "watchword." It was the watchword of the Christian sol-
dier, carefullv and jealously guarded by him, as that by which he
could himself be distinguished from heretics, and that for which
he could challenge others of whose orthodoxy he might be in doubt.

6 Rom. ix. 28.

BOOK VI.

593

dious and brief formula. Providing in this,
like a most tender father, for the carelessness
and ignorance of some of his children, that
no mind however simple and ignorant might
have any trouble over what could so easily be
retained in the memory.

CHAPTER IV.

How the Creed has authority Divine as well as human.

You see then that the Creed has the author-
ity of God : for " a short word will the Lord
make upon the earth." But perhaps you
want the authority of men : nor is that want-
ing, for God made it by means of men. For
as He fashioned the whole body of the sacred
Scriptures by means of the patriarchs and more
particularly his own prophets, so He formed
the Creed by means of His apostles and priests.
And whatever He enlarged on in these (in Scrip-
ture) with copious and abundant material, Pie
here embraced in a most complete and com-
pendious form by means of His own servants.
There is nothing wanting then in the Creed ;
because as it was formed from the Scriptures
of God by the apostles of God, it has in it all
the authority it can possibly have, whether of
men or of God : Although too that which was
made by men, must be accounted God's work,
for we should not look on it so much as their
work, by whose instrumentality it was made,
but rather as PI is, who was the actual maker.
" I believe," then, says the Creed, " in one true
and only God, the Father Almighty, Maker of
all things visible and invisible ; and in one
Lord Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son,
and the first-born of every creature ; Begotten
of Him before all worlds, and not made ; Very
God of Very God, being of one substance with
the Father ; by whom both the worlds were
framed and all things were made ; who for us
came, and was born of the Virgin Mary; and
was crucified under Pontius Pilate, and was
buried. And the third day He rose again ac-
cording to the Scriptures ; and ascended into
heaven : and shall come again to judge the
quick and the dead," etc.

CHAPTER V.

He proceeds against his opponent with the choicest arguments,
and shows that we ought to hold fast to the religion which
we have received from our fathers.

If you were an assertor of the Arian or Sa-
bellian heresy, and did not use your own
creed, I would still confute you by the authority
of the holy Scriptures ; I would confute you by

the words of the law itself ; I would refute you
by the truth of the Creed which has been ap-
proved throughout the whole world. I would
say that, even if you were void of sense and
understanding, yet still you ought at least to
follow universal consent : and not to make
more of the perverse view of a few wicked men
than of the faith of all the Churches : which
as it was estal)lished by Christ, and handed
down by the apostles ought to be regarded as
nothing but the voice of the authority of God,
which is certainly in possession of the voice and
mind of God. And what then if I were to deal
with you in this way ? What would you say .'
What would you answer .'' Would it not, I ad-
jure you, be this : viz., that you had not been
trained up and taught in this way : that some-
thing different had been delivered to you by
your parents, and masters, and teachers. That
you did not hear this in the meeting place of
your father's teaching, nor in the Church of
your Baptism : finally that the text and words
of the Creed delivered and taught to you con-
tained something different. That in it you
were baptized and regenerated. You would
say that you would hold fast this which you
had received, and that you would live in that
Creed in which you learnt that you were re-
generated. When you said this, would you not,
I pray, fancy that you were using a very strong
shield even against the truth ? And indeed it
would be no unreasonable defence, even in a
bad business, and one which would give no bad
excuse for error, if it did not unite obstinacy
with error. For if you held this, which you
had received from your childhood, we should
try to amend and correct your present error,
rather than be severe in punishing your past
fault : Whereas now, as you were born in a
Catholic city, instructed in the Catholic faith,
and regenerated with Catholic Baptism, how
can I deal with you as with an Arian or Sabel-
lian ? Would that you were one ! I should
grieve less had you been brought up in what
was wrong, instead of having fallen away from
what was right : had you never received the
faith, instead of having lost it : had you been
an old heretic instead of a fresh apostate, for
you would have brought less scandal and
harm on the whole Church ; finally it would
have been a less bitter sorrow, and less injuri-
ous example had you been able to try the
Church as a layman rather than a priest.
Therefore, as I said above, if you had been a
follower and assertor of Sabellianism or Arian-
ism or any heresy you please, you might shel-
ter yourself under the example of your parents,
the teaching of your instructors, the company
of those about you, the faith of your creed. I
ask, O you heretic, nothing unfair, and nothing

594

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

hard.

your parents. Hold fast the faith of the
Church : hold fast the truth of the Creed : hold
fast the salvation of baptism. What sort of a
wondei — what sort of a monster are you ?
You will not do for yourself what others have
done for their errors. But we have launched
out far enough : and out of love for a city that
is connected with us/ have yielded to our
grief as to a strong wind, and while we were
anxious to make way, have overshot the mark
of our proper course.

CHAPTER VI.

Once more he challenges him to the profession of the Creed of

Antioch.

As you have been brought up in the is the same as your own ? " I believe," the
Catholic faith, do that which you would do for | Creed says, " in one God, the Father AlrnVhty,
a wrong belief. Hold fast to the teaching of | Maker of all things visible and invisible ; and

in the Lord Jesus Christ, His only begotten
Son, the first-born of every creature ; Begotten
of Him before all worlds, and not made." It
is well that you should first reply to this : Do
you confess this of Jesus Christ the Son of
God, or do you deny it ? If you confess it,
everything is right enough. But if not, how
do you now deny what you yourself formerly
confessed.? Choose then which you will: Of
two things one must follow; viz., that that
same confession of yours, if it still holds good,
should alone set you free, or if you deny it, be
the first to condemn you. For you said in the
Creed: "I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ
His only begotten Son, and the first-born of
every creature." If the Lord Jesus Christ is
the only begotten, and the first-born of every
creature, then by our own confession He is
certainly God. For no other is the only be-
gotten and first-born of every creature but the
only begotten Son of God : as He is the first-
born of the creatures, so Fie is also God the
Creator of all. And how can you say that Fie
was a mere man at His birth from the Virgin,
whom you confessed to be God before the
world. Next the Creed says: "Begotten of
the Father before all worlds, and not made."
This Creed was uttered by you. You said by
your Creed, that Jesus Christ was begotten
before the worlds of God the Father, and not
made. Does the Creed say anything about
those phantasms, of which you now rave ?
Did you yourself say anything about them ?
Where is the statue ? Where that instrument
of yours, I pray.? For God forbid that this
should be another's and not yours. Where is
it that you assert that the Lord Jesus Christ
is like a statue, and so you think that He ought
to be worshipped not because He is God, but
because Fle is the image of God ; and out of
the Lord of glory you make an instrument,
and blasphemously say that Fie ought to be
adored not for His own sake, but for the sake
of Him who (as it were) breathes in Him and
sounds through Him .? You said in the Creed
that the Lord Jesus Christ was begotten of the
Father before all worlds, and not made : and
this certainly belongs to none but the only be-
gotten Son of God : that His birth should not
be a creation, and that He could be said simply
to be begotten, not made : for it is contrary to
the nature of things and to His honour that
the Creator of all should be believed to be a
creature : and that He, the author of all things
that have a commencement, should Himself

The Creed then, O you heretic, of which
we gave the text above, though it is that of
all the churches (for the faith of all is but one)
is yet specially that of the city and Church of
Antioch, i.e., of that Church in which you were
brought up, instructed, and regenerated. The
faith of this Creed brought you to the fountain
of life, to saving regeneration, to the grace of
the Eucharist, to the Communion of the Lord:
And what more ! Alas for the grievous and
mournful complaint ! Even to the ministerial
ofiice, the height of the presbyterate, the dig-
nity of the priesthood. Do you, you wretched
madman, think that this is a light or trivial
matter? Do you not see what you have done.?
Into what a depth you have plunged yourself.?
In losing the faith of the Creed, you have lost
everything that you were. For the mysteries
of the priesthood and of your salvation rested
on the truth of the Creed. Can you possibly
deny that ? I say that you have denied your
very self. But perhaps you think that you
cannot deny yourself. Let us look at the text
of the Creed ; that if you say what you used to
do, you may not be refuted, but if you say
things widely different and contrary, you may
not look to be confuted by me, as you have
condemned yourself already. For if you now
maintain something else than what is in the
Creed and what you formerly maintained your-
self, how can you help ascribing your punish-
ment to nobody but yourself, when you see
that the opinion of everybody else about you

1 Viz., Constantinople, where Nestorius was Bisliop and where
Cassian himself had been ordained deacon by S. Chrysostom, as he
tejis us below in Hook VLl. c. xxxi., where he returns to the subject
of his love for the city of his ordination, and interest in it.

have
Him.

begmnmg.

as all things began from
And so we say that He was begotten

BOOK VI.

595

not made: for His generation was unique and
no ordinary creation. And since He is (iod,
begotten of God, the Godliead of Him who is
begotten must have everything complete which
the majesty of Him who begat has.

CHAPTER Vn.

He continues the same line of argument drawn from tlie
Creed of Antioch.

But there follows in the Creed : " Very
God of Very God; Being of one substance
with the Father; by whom both the worlds
were framed, and all things were made." And
when you said all this, remember that you
said it all of the Lord Jesus Christ. For you
find stated in the Creed : that you believe in
the Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son
of God. and the first-born of every creature :
and after this and other clauses : " Very God
of Very God, Being of one substance with
the Father; by whom also the worlds were
framed." How then can the same Person be
God and not God ; God and a statue ; God
and an instrument? These do not harmo-
nize, you heretic, in any one Person, nor do
they fit together, so that you can, when you
like, call Him God; and when you like, con-
sider the same Person a creation. You said
in the Creed, " Very God." Now you say :
" a mere man." How can these things fit
together and harmonize so that one and the
same Person mav be the greatest Power, and
utter weakness : the Highest glory, and mere
mortality ? These things do not meet together
in one and the same Lord. So that severing
Him for worship and for degradation, on one
side, you may do Him honour as you like,
and on the other, you may injure Him as you
like. You said in the Creed when you re-
ceived the Sacrament of true Salvation : " the
Lord Jesus Christ, Very God of Very God,
Being of one substance with the Father,
Creator of the worlds. Maker of all things."
Where are you alas ! Where is your former
self ? Where is that faith of yours ? Where
that confession ? How have you fallen back
and become a monstrosity and a prodigy?
What folly, what madness was your ruin ?
You turned the God of all power and might
into inanimate material and a lifeless creation :
Your faith has certainly grown in time, in age,
and in the priesthood. You are worse as an
old man than formerly as a child : worse now
as a veteran than as a tyro : worse as a Bishop
than you were as a novice : nor were you ever
a learner after you had begun to be a teacher.

CHAPTER YUi.

How it can be said that Clirist came and was born of a

Virgin.

But let us look at the remainder which
follows. As then the Creed says : " The Lord
Jesus Christ, Very God of Very God, Being of
one substance with the Father ; By whom both
the worlds were framed, and all things were
made," it immediately subjoins in closest con-
nexion the following, and says : " Who for us
came and was born of the Virgin Mary." He
then, who is Very God, who is of one sub-
stance with the Father, who is the Maker of
all things, He, I repeat, came into the world
and was born of the Virgin Mary; as the
Apostle Paul says : " But when the fulness of
the times was come, God sent forth His Son,
made of a woman, made under the law." ^
You see how the mysteries of the Creed corre-
spond with the Holy Scriptures. The Apostle
declares that the Son of God was "sent from
the Father : " The Creed afiirms that He
" came." For it certainly follows that our
faith should confess that He has "come,"
whom the Apostle had taught us to be sent.
Then the Apostle says : " Made of a woman : "
The Creed, "born of Mary." And so you see
that there speaks through the Creed the Scrip-
ture itself, from which the Creed acknow-
ledges that it is itself derived. But when
the Apostle says, "made of a woman," he
rightly enough uses "made" for "born," after
the manner of Holy Scripture in which " made "
stands for "born :" as in this passage: "In-
stead of thy fathers there are made to thee
sons : " - or this : " Before Abraham was made,
I am ; " ^ where we certainly see clearly that
He meant " Before he was born, I am : "
alluding to the fact of his birth under the
term "was made," because whatever does not
need to be made has the very reality of crea-
tion. "Who," it then says, "for us came and
was born of the Virgin Mary." If a mere
man was born of Mary, how can it be said
that He " came " ? For no one " comes " but
He who has it in Him to be able to come.
But in the case of one who had not yet re-
ceived His existence, how could He have it in
Him to come. You see then how by the
word " coming " it is shown that He who came
was already in existence : for He only had the
power to come, to whom there could be the
opportunity of coming, from the fact that He
was already existing. But a mere man was
certainly not in existence before he was con-
ceived, and so had not in himself the power

1 Gal. iv. 4.

2 Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 17. 5 S. John viii. 58.

596

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

to come. It is clear then that it was God who
came : to Avhom it belongs in each case both
to be, and to co7nc. For certainly He came be-
cause He 7uas, and He ever was, because He
could ever come.

CHAPTER IX.

Again he convicts his opponent of deadly heresy by his own
confession.

But why are we arguing about words, when
the facts are clear enough t and seeking for a
determination of the matter from the terms
of the Creed, when the Creed itself deals with
the question. Let us repeat the confession of
the Creed, and of you yourself (for yours it is
as well as the Creed's, for you made it yours
by confessing it), that you may see that you
have departed not only from the Creed but
from yourself. " I^ believe " then, says the
Creed, " In one only true God, the Father
Almighty, Maker of all things visible and in-
visible : And in the Lord Jesus Christ, His
only begotten Son, and the first-born of every
creature : Begotten of Him before all worlds
and not made ; Very God of Very God ; Being
of one substance with the Father ; By whom
both the worlds were framed, and all things
were made. Who for us came, and v/as born
of the Virgin Mary." " For us " then the
Creed says, our Lord Jesus Christ "came and
was born of the Virgin Mary, and was cruci-
fied under Pontius Pilate ; and was buried,
and rose again according to the Scriptures."
The Churches are not ashamed to confess this :
the Apostles were not ashamed to preach it.
You yourself, you, I say, whose every utter-
ance is now blasphemy, you who now deny
everything, you did not deny all these truths :
that God was born ; that God suffered, that
God rose again. And what next .'' Whither
have you fallen ? What have you become ?
To what are you reduced ? What do you say ?
What are you vomiting forth .'' What, as one
says, even mad Orestes himself would swear
to be the words of a madman.-^ For what is
it that you say ? " Who then is the Son of
God who was born of the Christotocos .'' As
for instance if we were to say I believe in God
the Word, the only Son of God, begotten of
His Father, Being of one substance with the
Father, who came down and was buried, would
not our ears be shocked at the sound ? God
dead ? " And again : " Can it possibly be, you
say, that He who was begotten before all
worlds, should be born a second time, and be
God ? " If all these things cannot possibly
be, how is it that the Creed of the Churches

' Persius Sal. iii. 1. ii6
non sanus juret Orestes."

" quod ipse non sani esse hominis

says that they did happen ? How is it that
you yourself said that they did ? For let us
compare what you now say with what you
formerly said. Once you said : " I believe in
God the Father Almighty ; and in Jesus Christ
His Son, Very God of Very God ; Being of
one substance with the Father ; who for us
came and was born of the Virgin Mary; and
was crucified under Pontius Pilate ; and was
buried." But now what is it that you say ?
" If we should say : I believe in God the
Word, the only Son of God, Begotten of His
Father ; Being ot one substance with the
Father, who came down and was buried, would
not our ears be shocked at the sound? " The
bitterness indeed and blasphemy of your words
might drive us to a furious and ferocious attack
in answer ; but we must somewhat curb the
reins of our pious sorrow.

CHAPTER X.

He inveighs against him because though he has forsaken the
Catholic religion, he nevertheless presumes to teach in the
Church, to sacritice, and to give decisions.

1 APPEAL then to you, to you yourself, I say.
Tell me, I pray, if any Jew or pagan denied
the Creed of the Catholic faith, should you
think that we ought to listen to him ? Most
certainly not. What if a heretic or an apostate
does the same ? Still less should we listen to
him, for it is worse for a man to forsake the
truth which he has known, than to deny it
without ever having known it. We see then*
two men in you : a Catholic and an apostate :
first a Catholic, afterwards an apostate. De-
termine for yourself which you think we ought
to follow : for you cannot press the claims of
the one in yourself without condemning the
other. Do you say then that it is your former
self which is to be condemned : and that you
condemn the Catholic Creed, and the confes-
sion and faith of all men ? And what then ?
O shameful deed ! O wretched grief ! What
are you doing in the Catholic Church, you
preventer of Catholics ? Why is it that you,
who have denied the faith of the people, are
still polluting the meetings of the people :
And above all venture to stand at the altar, to
mount the pulpit, and show your impudent and
treacherous face to God's people — to occupy
the Bishop's throne, to exercise the priesthood,
to set yourself up as a teacher ? To teach
the Christians what ? Not to believe in Christ :
to deny that He in whose Divine temple they
are, is God.'-^ And after all this, O folly ! O

2 Petsdienig's text is ns follows : Ut quid iJocens Chrisiinnos ?
Christiiiii lion cred^'re, ctiin ipsiiiii in cuj'us Dei tei>!/>/o siiii Dcii'ii
negare. Gazoeus edits : Ut ijuid doces Christiatws, Christum 7ton
credens ? Cum ipsiim, in cujus Dei tejnplo sunt, Deum neges.

BOOK VI.

597

madness ! you fancy that you are a teacher
and a J^ishop, while {O wretched blindness)
you are denying His Divinity, His Divinity
(I repeat it) whose priest you claim to be.
But we arc carried away by our grief. What
then says the Creed ? or what did you yourself
say in the Creed ? Surely " the Lord Jesus
Christ, Very God of Very God ; Being of one
substance with the Father ; By whom the
■worlds were created and all things made : "
and that this same Person " for us came and
was born of the Vir2;in Marv." Since then
you said that God was born of Mary, how can
you deny that Mary was the mother of God ?
Since you said that God came, how can you
deny that He is God who has come ? You
said in the Creed : '' I believe in Jesus Christ
the Son of God : I believe in Very God of
Very God, of one substance with the Father :
who for us came and was born of the Virgin
Mary ; and was crucilied under Pontius Pilate ;
and was buried." But now you say: "If we
should say, I believe in God the Word, the
only Son of God, Begotten of the Father, of
one substance with the Father ; who came
and was buried, would not our ears be shocked
at the sound ? " Do you see then how you are
utterly destroying and stamping out the whole
faith of the Catholic Creed and the Catholic
mystery ? " O Sin, O monstrosity, to be
driven away," as one says, ^ " to the utmost
parts of the earth : " for this is more truly said
of you, that you may forsooth go into that soli-
tude where you will not be able to find anyone
to ruin. You think then that the faith of our
salvation, and the mystery of the Church's
hope is a shock to your ears and hearing.
And how was it that formerly when you were
hastening to be baptized, you heard these
mysteries with unharmed ears ? How was it
that when the teachers of the church were in-
structing you your ears were not damaged ?
You certainly at that time did your duty with-
out anv double shock to your mouth and ears ;
when you repeated what you heard from
others, and as the speaker yourself heard
yourself speaking. Where then were these
injuries to your ears? Where these shocks to
your hearing ? Why did you not contradict
and cry out against it ? But indeed you are
at your will and fancy, when you please, a dis-
ciple ; and when you please, the Church's
enemy : when you please a Catholic, and when
you please an apostate. A worthy leader
indeed, to draw Churches after you, to what-
ever side you attach yourself ; to make your
will the law of our life, and to change man-
kind as you yourself change, that, as you will

1 Cicero in Verr. Act. II. Book 1. xv. 40.

not be what all others are, they may be what
you want ! ^ A splendid authority indeed, that
because you are not now what you used to be,
the world must cease to be what it formerly
was !

CHAPTER XL

He removes the silent objection of licretics who want to recant
' the profession of tlicir faith made in childhood.

But perhaps you say that you were a baby
when you were regenerated, and so were not
then able to think or to contradict. It is true :
that your infancy did prevent you from con-
tradicting, when if you had been a man you
would have died for contradicting. For what
if when in that most faithful and devout Church
of Christ the priest delivered the Creed ^ to the
Catechumen and the attesting people, you had
tried to hold your tongue at any point, or to
contradict.^ Perhaps you would have been
heard, and not sent forth at once like some
new kind of monster or prodigy as a plague
to be expelled. Not because that most earnest
and religious people of God has any wish to
be stained with the blood of even the worst of
men : but because especially in great cities the
people inflamed with the love of God cannot
restrain the ardour of their faith when they see
anyone rise up against their God. But be it
so. As a baby, if it be so, you could not con-
tradict and deny the Creed. Why did you
hold your tongue when you were older and
stronger. At any rate you grew up, and be-
came a man, and were placed in the ministry
of the Church. Through all these years,
through all the steps of olhce and dignity, did
you never understand the faith which you
taught so long before ? At any rate you knew
that you were His deacon and priest. If the
rule of salvation was a difficulty to you, why
did you undertake the honour of that, of which
you disliked the faith ? But indeed you were
a far sighted and simply devout man, who

- Ui, quia tu esse tiolis quod otitnes shtt, onines sint, quod iu velis
(Petsclienis). Gazius lias : Et quia tu esse nolis quod omties sunt,
quodiu velis: a text which he confesses must be corrupt.

2 The reference is the ceremonv known as the Traditio Symboli,
which is thus described by Professor Lumby : " The practice of the
early churcli in the admission of converts to baptism seems to have
been of this nature. For some period previous to their baptism
(the usual seasons for which were Easier and Pentecost) the candi-
dates for admission thereto were trained in the doctrines of the faith
by the presbyters. A few days before thev were to be baptized (the
number of days varying at different periods) the Creed was delivered
to tliem accompanied with a sermon. This ceremony was known
as Traditio Symboli, the delivery of the Creed. At the time of
Baptism each candidate was interroijated upon the articles of the
Creed which he had received, and was to return an answer in the
words which had been given to liim. This was known as Redditio
Symboli, the repetition of the Creed, and Baptism was the only oc-
casion on which the Creed was introduced into any public service of
the Church." History of the Creeds, pp. 11, 12.

598

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

wished so to balance yourself between the two,
as to maintain both your wicked blasphemy,
and the honour of Catholicity !

CHAPTER XII.

Christ crucified is an offence and foolishness tothose who
declare that He was a mere man.

The shock then to your hearing and ears is
that God was born, and God suffered. And
where is that saying of yours, O Apostle Paul :
" But we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews
indeed a stumbling block, but to the Gentiles
foolishness : but to them that are called, both
Jews and Greeks, Christ the Power of God and
the Wisdom of God." ^ What is the Wisdom
and Power of God } Certainly it is God. But
he preaches Christ who was crucified, as the
Power and Wisdom of God. If then Christ
is without any doubt the Wisdom of God, He
is therefore without any doubt God. " We,"
then, he says, " preach Christ crucified, to the
Jews indeed a stumbling block, but to the Gen-
tiles foolishness." And so the Lord's cross,
which was foolishness to the Gentiles and a
stumbling block to the Jews is both together
to you. Nor indeed is there any greater fool-
ishness than not to believe, or any greater
stumbling block than to refuse to listen.
Their ears were wounded then by the preach-
ing and the passion of God, just as yours are
wounded now. They thought as you think
that this shocked their ears. And hence it
was that when the Apostle was preaching
Christ as God, at the name of our God and
Lord Jesus Christ, they stopped the ears in
their head, as you stop the ears of your under-'
standing. The sin of both of you in this mat-
ter might seem to be equal, were it not that
your fault is the greater, because they denied
Him, in whom the passion still showed the
manhood,- while you deny Him, whom the
resurrection has already proved to be God,
And so they were persecuting Him on the
earth, whom you are persecuting even in
heaven. And not only so, but this is more
cruel and wicked, because ///cv denied Him in
ignorance, jo/i deny Him after having received
the faith : f/iej not knowing the Lord, vou when
you have confessed Him as God : ///^r under
cover of zeal for the law, yo// under the cloke
of your Bishopric : //ley denied Him to whom
they, thought that they were strangers, you
deny Him whose priest you are. O unworthy
act, and one never heard of before ! Vou per-
secute and attack the very One, whose ofifice
you are still holding.

^ I Cor. i. 23, 24.

Homo.

CHAPTER XIIL

He replies to the objection in which they say that the child
born 3 ought to be of one substance with the mother.

But indeed in your deceit and blasphemy
you use a grand argument for denying and
attacking the Lord God, when you say that
" the child born ought to be of one substance
with the mother." * I do not entirely admit
it, and maintain that in the matter of the birth
of God it would not be observed ; for the birth
was not so much the work of her who bore
Him as of her Son, and He was born as He
willed, whose doing it was that He was born.
Next, if you say that the child born ought to
be of one substance with the parent, I afhrm
that the Lord Jesus Christ was of one sub-
stance with His Father, and also with His
mother. For in accordance with the differ-
ence of the Persons He showed a likeness to
each parent. For according to His Divinity
He was of one substance with the Father :
but according to the flesh He was of one sub-
stance with His mother. Not that it was one
Person who was of one substance with the
Father, and another .who was of one substance
with His mother, but because the same Lord
Jesus Christ, both born as man, and also being
God, had in Him the properties of each parent,
and in that He was man He showed a likeness
to His human mother, and in that He was
God He possessed the very nature of God the
Father.

CHARTER XIV.

He compares this erroneous view with the teaching of the
Pelagians.

Otherwise if Christ who was born of Mary
is not the same Person as He who is of God,
you certainly make two Christs ; after the
manner of that abominable error of Pelagius,
which in asserting that a mere man was born
of the Virgin, said that He w^as the teacher
rather than the redeemer of mankind ; for He
did not bring to men redemption of life but
only an example of how to live, i.e., that by
following Him men should do the same sort
of things and so come to a similar state.
Your blasphemy then has but one source, and
the root of the errors is one and the same.
They maintain that a mere man was born of
Mary : you maintain the same. They sever
the Son of man from the Son of God : you do
the same. They say that the Saviour was
made the Christ by His baptism : you say that
in baptism He became the Temple of God.

^ Nativitas,

* Hotitoousios par ittiti debet esse nativitas.

BOOK VI.

599

They do not deny that He became God after
His Passion : you deny Him even after His
ascension. In one point only therefore your
perverseness goes beyond tlieirs, for they seem
to blaspheme the Lord on earth, and you even
in heaven. We do not deny that you have
beaten and outstripped those whom you are
copying. They at last cease to deny God ;
you never do. Although theirs must not alto-
gether be deemed a true confession, as they
only allow the glory of Divinity to the Saviour
after His Passion, and while they deny that
He was God before this, only confess it after-
wards : for, as it seems to me, one who denies
some part in regard to God, denies Him alto-
gether : and one who does not confess that
He ever existed, denies Him forever. Just as
you also, even if you were to admit that now
in the heavens the Lord Jesus Christ, who was
born of the Virgin INIary, is God, would not
truly confess Him unless you admitted that
He was always God. But indeed you do not
want in any point to change or vary your
opinion. For you assert that He whom j'ou
speak of as born a mere man, is still at the
present time not God. O novel and marvel-
lous blasphemy, though with the heretics you
assert Him to be man, you do not with the
heretics confess Him to be God !

CHAPTER XV.

He shows that those who patronize this false teaching
acknowledge two Christs.

But still, I had begun to say, that as you
certainly make out two Christs this very mat-
ter must be illustrated and made clear. Tell
me, I pray you, you who sever Christ from the
Son of God, how can you confess in the Creed
that Christ was begotten of God ? For you
say : " I believe in God the Father, and in
Jesus Christ His Son." Here then j^ou have
Jesus Christ the Son of God : but you say that
it was not the same Son of God who was born
of Mary. Therefore there is one Christ of
God, and another of Mary. In your view then
there are two Christs. For, though in the
Creed you do not deny Christ, you say that the
Christ of Mary is another than the one whom
you confess in the Creed. But perhaps you
say that Christ was not begotten of God : how
then do you say in the Creed : "I believe in
Jesus Christ the Son of God ? " You must
then either deny the Creed or confess that
Christ is the Son of God. But if you confess
in the Creed that Christ is the Son of God,
you must also confess that the same Christ,
the Son of God, is of Mary. Or if you make

out another Christ of Mary, you certainly make
the blasphemous assertion that there are two
Christs.

CHAPTER XVI.

lie shows further that this teaching is destructive of the con-
fession of the Trinity.

But Still even if your obstinacy and dis-
honesty are not restrained by this faith of the
Creed, are you not, I ask you, overwhelmed
by an appeal to reason and the light of truth ?
Tell me, I ask, whoever you are, O you here-
tic— At least there is a Trinity, in which we
believe, and which we confess : Father and
Son and Holy Ghost. Of the Glory of the
Father and the Spirit there is no question.
You are slandering the Son, because you say
that it was not the same Person who was born
of Mary, as He who was begotten of God the
Father. Tell me .then : if you do not deny
that the only Son of God was begotten of God,
whom do you make out that He is who was
born of Mary.? You say "a mere man," ac-
cording to that which He Himself said:
"That which is born of the flesh, is flesh." ^
But He cannot be called a mere man who was
begotten not after the law of human creation
alone. " For that which is conceived in her,"
said the angel, " is of the Holy Ghcst." ^ And
this even you dare not deny, though you deny
almost all the mysteries of salvation. Since
then He was born of the Holy Ghost, and
cannot be termed a mere man, as He was
conceived by the inspiration cf God, if it is
not He who, as the Apostle says, "emptied
Himself by taking the foim of a servant,'^ and
"the word was made flesh," and "humbled
Himself by becoming obedient unto death,"
and "who for our sakes, though He was rich,
became poor," '^ tell me, then, who He is.
who was born of the Holy Ghost, and was
conceived by the overshadowing of Gcd ?
You say that He is certainly a different Per-
son. Then there are two Persons ; viz., the
one, who was begotten of God the Father in
heaven ; and the other who was conceived of
Mary, by the inspiration of Gcd. And thus
there is a fourth Person whom you introduce,
and whom (though in words you term Him a
mere man) you assert actuallv not to have
been a mere man, since you allow (not hew-
ever as you ought) that He is to be honoured,
worshipped, and adored. Since then the Son
of God who was begotten of the Father is
certainly to be worshipped, and He who was
conceived of Mary by the Holy Ghost is to

» St. John ill. 6. 2 S. Matt. i. 20.

3 Phil. ii. 7, S; S. John i. 14 ; 2 Cor. viii. g.

6oo

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

be worshipped, you make two Persons to be
honoured and venerated, whom you so far
sever from each other, as to venerate each
with an honour special and pecuHar to Him.
And thus you see that by denymg and by
severing from Himself the Son of God, you
destroy, as far as you can, the whole mystery
of the divinity. For while you are endeavour-
ing to introduce a fourth Person into the Trin-
ity,^ you see that you have utterly denied the
whole Trinity.

CHAPTER XVII.

Those who are under an error in one point of the Catholic
religion, lose the whole faith, and all the value of the faith.

And since this is so, in denying that Jesus
Christ the Son of God is one, you have
denied everything. For the scheme of the
mysteries of the Church and the Catholic faith
is such that one who denies, one portion of the
Sacred Mystery cannot confess the other. For
all parts of it are so bound up and united to-
gether that one cannot stand without the other,
and if a man denies one point out of the whole
number, it is of no use for him to believe all
the others. And so if you deny that the Lord
Jesus Christ is God, the result is that in deny-
ing the Son of God you deny the Father also.
For as St. John says : " He who hath not the
Son hath not the Father ; but he who hath the
Son hath the Father also." ^ By denying then
Him who was begotten you deny also Him
who begat. By denying also that the Son of
God was born in the flesh, you are led also to
deny that He was born in the Spirit, for it is
the same Person who was born in the flesh
who was first born in the Spirit. If you do
not believe that He was born in the flesh, the
result is that you do not believe that He suf-
fered. If you do not believe in His Passion
what remains for j^ou but to deny His resur-
rection ? For faith in one raised springs out
of faith in one dead. Nor can the reference
to the resurrection keep its place, unless be-
lief in His death has first preceded it. By
denying then his Passion and Death, you deny
also his resurrection from hell.^ It follows
certainly that you deny His ascension also,
for there cannot be the ascension without
the resurrection. And if we do not believe
that He rose again, we cannot either believe
that He ascended : as the Apostle says, " For
He that descended is the same also that as-
cended." * Thus, so far as you are concerned,
the Lord Jesus Christ did not rise from hell,
nor ascend into heaven, nor sit at the right

1 Cf. Augustine, Tr. 78 in Joan.

2 I John ii. 23.

3 ah inferis.
* Eph. iv. 10.

hand of God the Father, nor will He come at
that day of judgment which we look for, nor
will He judge the quick and the dead.

CHAPTER XVIH.

He directs his discourse upon his antagonist with whom he is
disputing, and begs him to return to his senses. The sacra-
ment of reconciliation is necessary for the lapsed for their
salvation.

And so, you wretched, insane, obstinate crea-
ture, you see that you have utterly upset the
whole faith of the Creed, and all that is val-
uable in our hope and the mysteries. And
yet you still dare to remain in the Church :
and imagine that you are a priest, though you
have denied everything by which you came to
be a priest. Return then to the right way,
and recover your former mind, return to your
senses if you ever had any. Come to your-
self, if there ever was in you a self to which
you can come back. Acknowledge the sacra-
ments of your salvation, by which you were
initiated and regenerated. They are of no
less use to j-ou now than they were then ; for
they can now regenerate you by penance, as
they then gave you birth through the Font.
Hold fast the full scheme of the Creed.
Hold the entire truth of the faith. Believe
in God the Father : believe in God the Son :
in one who begat and one who was begotten,
the Lord of all, Jesus Christ ; Being of one
substance with the Father; Begotten in His
divinity ; born in the flesh : of twofold birth,
yet of but one glory ; who Himself creator of
all things, was begotten of the Father, and
was afterwards born of the Virgin.

CHAPTER XIX.

That the birth of Christ in time diminished nothing of the
glory and power of His Deity.

For the fact that He came of the flesh and
in the flesh, has reference to His birth,^ and
involves no diminution in Him : and He was
simply born, not changed for the worse. ^ For
though, still remaining in the form of God, He
took upon Him the form of a servant, yet the
weakness of His human constitution had no
effect on His nature as God : but while the
power of His ]])eity remained whole and unim-
paired, all that took place in His human flesh
was an advancement of His manhood and no
diminution of His glory. For when God was
born in human flesh. He was not born in
human flesh in such a way as not to remain

s Demutatus.

BOOK VI.

60 1

Divine in Himself, but so that, while the God-
head remained as before, God might become
man. And so Martha while she saw with her
bodily eyes the man, confessed Him by spiri-
tual sight to be God, saying, " Yea, Lord, I have
believed that Thou art the Christ the Son of
the living God, who art come into the world." ^
So Peter, owing to the Holy Spirit's revelation,
while externallv he beheld the Son of man,
yet proclaimed Him to be the Son of God,
saying. "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God." ^ So Thomas when he touched
the tiesh, believed that he had touched God,
saying, " My Lord and my God." ^ For they
all confessed but one Christ, so as not to make
Him two. Do you therefore believe Him ;
and so believe that Jesus Christ the Lord of
all, both only Begotten and first-born, is both
Creator of all things and Preserver of men ;
and that the same Person is first the framer
of the whole world, and afterwards redeemer of
mankind ? Who still remaining with the
Father and in the Father, Being of one sub-
stance with the Father, did (as the Apostle
says), " Take the form of a servant, and hum-
ble Himself even unto death, the death of the
Cross : " * and (as the Creed says) " was born of
the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pi-
late, and was buried. And the third day He
rose again according to the Scriptures ; and
ascended into heaven ; and shall come again to
judge both the quick and the dead." This is
our faith ; this is our salvation : to believe that
our God and Lord Jesus Christ is one and the
same before all things and after all things.
For, as it is written, " Jesus Christ is yester-
day and today and the same for ever." ^ For
" yesterday " signifies all time past, wherein,
before the beginning, He was begotten of the
Father. " Todav " covers the time of this
world, in which He was again born of the Vir-
gin, suffered, and rose again. But by the ex-
pression the same "for ever "is denoted the
whole boundless eternity to come.

CHAPTER XX.

He shows from what has been said that we do not mean that
God was mortal or of flesh before the worlds, although Christ,
who is God from eternity and was made man in time, is but
one Person.

But perhaps j'ou will say : If I admit that
the same Person w^as in the end of time born
of a Virgin, who w-as begotten before all things
of God the Father, 1 shall imply that be-
fore the beginning of the world God was in
the flesh, as I say that He was afterwards

1 S. John xi. 27.

2 S. iSIatt. xvi. 16.

3 S. John XX. 28.
1 Phil. ii. 7, 8.

6 Heb. xiii. 8.

man, who was always God : and so I shall say
that that man who was afterwards born, had
always existed. 1 do not want you to be con-
fused by this blind ignorance, and these ob-
scure misconceptions, so as to fancy that I am
maintaining that the manhood " which was
born of Mary had existed before the beginning
of things, or asserting that God was always in
a bodily form before the commencement of the
world. I do not say, I repeat it. I do not say
that the manhood was in God before it was
born : but that God was afterwards born in the
manhood. For that flesh which was born of
the flesh of the Virgin had not always existed :
but God who always was, came in the flesh of
man of the flesh of the Virgin. For "the
Word was made flesh," and did not manifest
flesh together with Himself: but in the glory
of Divinity joined Himself to human flesh.
For tell me when or where the Word was made
flesh, or where He emptied Himself by taking
the form of a servant: or where He became
poor, though He was rich ? Where but in the
holy womb of the Virgin, where at His Incar-
nation, the Word of God is said to have been
made flesh, at His birth He truly took the
form of a servant; and when He is in human
nature nailed to the Cross, He became poor,
and was made poor in His sufferings in the
flesh, though He was rich in His Divine glory.?
Otherwise if, as you say, at some later period
the Deity entered into Him as into one of the
Prophets and saints, then " the Word was made
flesh" in those men also in whom He vouch-
safed to dwell: then in each one of them He
emptied Himself and took upon Him the form
of a servant. And thus there is nothing new
or unique in Christ. Neither His conception,
nor His birth nor His death had anything
special or miraculous about it.

CHAPTER XXI.

The authority of Holy Scripture teaches that Christ existed
from all eternity.

And yet to return to what we said before,
though all these things are so, as we have
stated : how do we read that Jesus Christ
(whom you assert to be a mere man) was ever
existing even before His birth of a Virgin, and
how is He proclaimed by prophets and apos-
tles as God even before the worlds ? As Paul
says : " One Lord Jesus, through whom are
all things." '' And elsewhere he says : " For
in Christ were created all things in heaven and
on earth, both visible and invisible."^ The

0 Hominetn.

^ I Cor. viii. 6.

8 Col. i. i6.

602

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

Creed too, which is framed both by human and
Divine authority, says: " I believe in God the
Father, and in the Lord Jesus Christ, His Son."
And after other clauses : " Very God of Very
God ; by whom both the worlds were framed
and all things were made." And further :
" Who for us came and was born of the Virgin
Mary, and was crucified, and was buried."

CHAPTER XXH.

The hypostatic union enables us to ascribs to God what
belongs to the flesh in Christ.

How then is Christ (whom you term a mere
man) proclaimed in Holy Scripture to be God
without beginning, if by our own confession
the Lord's manhood^ did not exist before His
birth and conception of a Virgin .? And how
can we read of so close a union of man and
God, as to make it appear that man was ever
co-eternal with God, and that afterwards God
suffered with man : whereas we cannot believe
that man can be without besjinninof or that
God can suffer ? It is this which we estab-
lished in our previous writings ; viz., that God
being joined to manhood,- i.e., to His own
body, does not allow any separation to be
made in men's thoughts between man and
God. Nor will He permit anyone to hold
that there is one Person of the Son of man,
and another Person of the Son of God. But
in all the holy Scriptures He joins together
and as it were incorporates in the Godhead,
the Lord's manhood,** so that no one can sever
man from God in time, nor God from man at
His Passion. For if you regard Him in time,
you will find that the Son of man is ever with
the Son of God. If you take note of His Pas-
sion, you will find that the Son of God is ever
with the Son of man, and that Christ the Son
of man and the Son of God is so one and in-
divisible, that, in the language of holy Scrip-
ture, the man cannot be severed in time from
God, nor God from man at His Passion.
Hence comes this : " No man hath ascended
into heaven, but He who came down from
heaven, even the Son of man who is in hea-
ven

" 4

Where the Son of God while He was
speaking on earth testified that the Son of
man was in heaven : and testified that the
same Son of man, who. He said, would ascend
into heaven, had previously come down from
heaven. And this : " What and if ye shall see
the Son of man ascend up where He was be-
fore," ^ where He gives the name of Him who

' Doininici4s homo, see above on V. v.

' Homini. ^ S. John iii. 13.

^ Do7ninicns homo. ^ S. John vi. 63.

was born of man, but aftirms that He ever was
up on high. And the Apostle also, when con-
sidering what happened in time, says that all
things were made by Christ. For he says,
" There is one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are
all things." ^ But when speaking of His Pas-
sion, he shows that the Lord of glory was cru-
cified. " For if," he says, " they had known,
they would never have crucified the Lord of
glory." ' And so too the Creed speaking of
the only and first-begotten Lord Jesus Christ,
" Very God of Very God, Being of one sub-
stance with the Father, and the Maker of all
things," affirms that He was born of the Vir-
gin and crucified and afterwards buried. Thus
joining in one body (as it were) the Son of
God and of man, and uniting God and man, so
that there can be no severance either in time
or at the Passion, since the Lord Jesus Christ
is shown to be one and the same Person, both
as God through all eternity, and as man through
the endurance of His Passion ; and though we
cannot say that man is without beginning or
that God is passible, yet in the one Person of
the Lord Jesus Christ we can speak of man as
eternal, and of God as dead. You see then
that Christ means the whole Person, and that
the name represents both natures, for both man
and God are born, and so it takes in the whole
Person so that when this name is used we see
that no part is left out. There was not then
before the birth of a Virgin the -same eternity
belonging in the past to the manhood as to the
Divinity, but because Divinity was united to
manhood in the womb of the Virgin, it follows
that when we use the name of Christ one can-
not be spoken of without the other.

CHAPTER XXIII.

That the figure Synecdoche, in whicli the part stands for the
whole, is very famihar to the Holy Scripture.

Whatever then you say of the Lord Jesus
Christ, you say of the whole person, and in
mentioning the Son of God you mention the
Son of man, and in mentioning the Son of man
you mention the Son of God : by the gram-
matical trope synecdoche in which you under-
stand the whole from the parts, and a part is
put for the whole : and the holy Scriptures
certainly show this, as in them the Lord often
uses this trope, and teaches in this way about
others and would have us understand about
Himself in the same wav. For sometimes
days, and things, and men, and times are de-

" I Cor. viii. 6.

' I Cor. ii. 8. See the note on TV. vii.

BOOK VII.

60 '

noted in holy Scripture in no other fashion.
As in this case where God declares that Israel
shall serve the Egyptians for four hundred
years, and says to Abraham : " Know thou
that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land not
theirs, and they shall bring them under bond-
age and afHict them four hundred years." ^
Whereas if you take into account the whole
time after tiiat God spoke, they are more than
four hundred : but if you only reckon the time
in which they were in slavery, they are less.
And in giving this period indeed, unless you
understand it in this way, we must think that
the Word of God lied (and away with such a
thought from Christian minds !). But since
from the time of the Divine utterance, the
whole period of their lives amounted to more
than four hundred years, and their bondage
endured for not nearly four hundred, you must
understand that the part is to be taken for the
whole, or the whole for the part. There is also
a similar way of representing days and nights,
where, when in the case of either division of
time one day is meant, either period is shown
by a portion of a single period. And indeed
in this way the difficulty about the time of our
Lord's Passion is cleared up : for whereas the
Lord prophesied that after the model of the
prophet Jonah, the Son of man would be three
days and three nights in the heart of the
earth," and whereas after the sixth day of the
week on which He was crucified. He was only
in hell ^ for one day and two nights, how
can we show the truth of the Divine words .''
Surely by the trope of Synecdoche, i.e., be-
cause to the day on which He was crucified
the previous night belongs, and to the night on
which He rose again, the coming day ; and so
when there is added the night which preceded
the day belonging to it, and the day which
followed the night belonging to it, we see that

there is nothing lacking to the whole period of
time, which is made up of its portions. The
holy Scriptures abound in such instances of
ways of speaking : but it would take too long
to relate them all. For so when the Psalm
says, "What is a man that Thou art mindful
of Him," ■* from the part we understand the
whole, as while only one man is mentioned
the whole human race is meant. So also where
Ahab sinned we are told that the people sinned.
Where — though all are mentioned, a part is
to be understood from the whole. John also
the Lord's forerunner says : "After me cometh
a man who is preferred before me for He was
before me." ^ How then does He mean that
He would come after Him, whom He shows to
be before Plim ? For if this is understood of
a man who was afterwards born, how was he
before him } But if it is taken of the Word
how is it, " a w<7« cometh after me ? " Except
that in the one Lord Jesus Christ is shown
both the posteriority of the manhood and the
precedence of the Godhead. And so the
result is that one and the same Lord was
before him and came after him : for according
to the flesh He was posterior in time to John ;
and according to His Deity was before all
men. And so he, when he named that man,
denoted both the manhood and the Word, for
as the Lord Jesus Christ the Son of God was
complete in both manhood and Divinity* in
mentioning one of these natures in Him he
denoted the whole person. And what need is
there of anything further .'' I think that the
day would fail me if I were to try to collect or
to tell everything that could be said on this
subject. And what we have already said is
enough, at any rate on this part of the subject,
both for the exposition of the Creed, and for
the requirements of our case, and for the limits
of our book.

BOOK VII.

CHAPTER I.

As he is going to reply to t1ie slanders of his opponents he
implores tlie aid of Divine grace to teach a prayer to be
used by those who undertake to dispute with heretics.

As it happens to those who having escaped
the perils of the sea, are in terror of the sands
that stretch before the harbour, or the rocks
that line the shore, so it is in my case that, —
as I have kept to the last some of the slanders

of the heretics, — although I have reached the
limit of the work which I set myself, yet I
am beginning to dread the close, which I had
longed to reach. But, as the Prophet says,
" The Lord is my helper ; I will not fear what
man can do to me,"' so we will not fear the
pitfalls which crafty heretics have dug in front
of us, nor the paths thickly strewn with horrid
thorns. For as they make our road difficult
but do not close it, there is before us the

1 Gen. XV. 13.

2 S. Matt. xii. 40.

3 A pud inferos.

< Ps. viii. 5.
0 S. John i. 15.

« Verbi.

' Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 6.

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THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

trouble of clearing them away, rather than the
fear of not being able to do so. For when,
as we are w-alking feebly along the right
road, they come in our way, and frighten the
walkers rather than hurt them, our work and
business has more to do in clearing them
away, than to fear from the difficulty of this :
And so, laying our hands upon that mon-
strous head of the deadly serpent, and long-
ing to lay hold of all the limbs that are
entangled in the huge folds and coils of his
body, again and again do we pray to Thee,
O Lord Jesus, to whom we have ever prayed,
that Thou wouldst give us words by opening
our mouth " to the pulling down of strong-
holds, destroying counsels, and every height
that exalteth itself against the knowledge of
God, and bringing into captivity every under-
standing unto Thine obedience : " ^ for he is
indeed free, Avho has begun to be led captive
by Thee. Do Thou then be present to this
work of thine, and to those of Thine who are
striving for Thee above the measure of their
strength. Grant us to bruise the gaping
mouths of this new serpent, and its neck that '
swells with deadly poison, O Thou who mak-
est the feet of believers to tread unharmed on
serpents and scorpions, and to go upon the j
adder and basilisk, to tread under foot the
lion and the dragon.- And grant that through
the fearless boldness of steadfast innocence,
the sucking child may play on the hole of the
asp, and the weaned child thrust his hand into
the den of the basilisk.^ Grant then to us also
that we may thrust our hands unharmed into
the den of this monstrous and most wicked
basilisk ; and if it has in any holes, i.e., in
the human heart, a lurking or resting place,
or has laid its eggs there, or left a trace of its
slimy course, do Thou remove from them all
the foul and deadly pollution of this most nox-
ious serpent. Take away the uncleanness their
blasphemy has brought on them, and purify
with the fan of Thy sacred cleansing ■* the
souls that are plunged in stinking mud, so that
the " dens of thieves " may become " houses
of prayer : " ^ and that in those which are now,
as is written, the dwellings where hedgehogs and
monsters,® and satyrs, and all kinds of strange
creatures dwell, there the gifts of Thy Holy
Spirit, namely the beauty of faith and holiness
may shine forth. And as once Thou didst
destroy idolatry and cast out images, and make
shrines of virtue out of the temples of devils,
and let into the dens of serpents and scorpions
the rays of shining light, and make out of the
dens of error and shame the homes of beauty

' 2 Cor. X. 4, 5. ^ Cf. S.Lukex. 19; P>. xc. (xci.) 13.

3 Isa. xi. 8. * Cf. Mai. iii. 2, 3. ^ S. Matt. xxi. 13.

'■' Onocentauri: the allusion is to Is. xxxiv. 14, 15. Cf. Jeromein
Esaiam, Bk. X.

and splendour, so do Thou pour upon all whose
ej-es the darkness of heretical obstinacy has
blinded, the light of Thy compassion and
truth, that they may at length wath clear and
unveiled sight behold the great and life-giving
mystery of Thine Incarnation, and so come to
know Thee to have been born as Very man of
that sacred womb of a pure Virgin, and yet
to acknowledge that Thou wast always Very
God.

CHAPTER n.

He meets the objection taken from these words : No one gave
birth to one who had existed before her.

And before I begin to speak of those things
of which I have given no foretaste in the ear-
lier books, I think it right to try to carry out
what I have already promised, that when I
have thoroughly redeemed my pledge, I may
begin to speak more freely of what has not
been touched upon, after having satisfied my
promise. So then that new serpent, in order
to destroy the faith of the holy nativity, hisses
out against the Church of God and says : " No
one ever gives birth to one older than her-
self." To begin with then I think that you
know neither what you say nor where you get
it from. For if you knew or understood where
you got it from, you would never regard the
nativity of the only begotten of Gcd in the
light of human fancies, nor would you try to
settle by merely human propositions, about
Him who was born without His conception
originating from man : nor would you iDring
human impossibilities r.s objections against
Divine Omnipotence if you knew that with
God nothing was impossible. No one then,
you say, gives birth to one older than herself.
Tell me then, I pray, of what cases are you
speaking, for the nature of what creatures do
you think that you can lay down rules ? Do
you suppose that you can fix laws for men or
beasts or birds or cattle ? Those (and others
of the same kind) are the things of which such
assertions can be made. For none of them
is able to produce one older than itself ; for
what has already been produced cannot return
to it again so as to be born again by a new
creation. And so no one can bear one older
than herself, as no one can beget one older
than himself: for the opportunity of bearing
only results where there is the possibility of
begetting. Do you then imagine that in refer-
ence to the nativity of Almighty God regard
must be had to the same considerations as in
the birth of earthly creatures ? And do you
bring the nature of man's conditions as a diffi-
culty in the case of Him who is Himself the

BOOK VII.

605

author of nature ? You see th.cn that, as I
said above, you know not whence or of whom

you are talking, as you are comparing creatures
to tlie Creator ; and in order to calculate tiie
power of God are drawing an instance from
those things which would never have existed
at all, but that the very fact of their existence
comes from God. God then came as He
would, when He would, and of her whom He
would. Neither time nor person, nor the
manner of men, nor the custom of creatures
was any difficulty with Him ; for the law of
the creatures could not stand in the way of
Him who is Himself the Creator of them all.
And whatever He would have possible was
ready to His hand, for the power of willing it
was His. Uo you want to know how far the
omnipotence of God extends, and how great
it is ? 1 believe that the Lord could do that
even in the case of His creatures which you
do not believe that He could do in His own
case. For all living creatures which now bear
things younger than themselves could, if only
God gave the word, bear things much older
than themselves. For even food and drink, if
it were God's will, could be turned into the
foetus and offspring : and even water, which
has been flowing from the beginning of thinsfs,
and which all living creatures use, could, if
God gave the word, be made a body in the
womb, and have birth given to it. For who
can set a limit to divine works, or circumscribe
Divine Providence ? or who (to use the words
of Scripture) can say to Him " What doest
thou ? " ^ If you deny that God can do all
things, then deny, that, when God was born,
one older than Mary could be born of her.
But if there is nothing impossible with God,
why do you bring as an objection against His
coming an impossibility, when you know that
for Him nothing is impossible in anything ?

CHAPTER HI.

He replies to the cavil that the one who is born must be of one
substance with the one who bears.

The second blasphemous slander or slan-
derous blasphemy of your heresy is when you
say that the one who is born must be of one
substance with the one who bears. It is not
very different from the previous one, for it
differs from it in terms rather than in fact and
reality. For when we are treating of the birth
of God, you maintain that one of greater power
could not be born of Mary just as above you
maintain than one older could not be begotten.
And so you may take it that the same answer

1 Isa. xlv. 9; Rom. ix. 20.

may be given to this as to what you said be-
fore : or you may conceive that the answer
given to this assertion, which you are now
making, applies to that also. You say then
that the one who is born must be of one sub-
stance with the one who bears. If this refers
to earthly creatures, it is most certainly the
case, liut if it refers to the birth of God, why
in the case of His birth do you regard prece-
dents from nature ? for appointments are sub-
ject to Him who appointed them, and not the
appointer to His appointments. But would
you like to know more fully how these slanders
of yours are not only wicked but foolish, and
the idle talk of one who does not in the least
see the omnipotence of God ? Tell me, I pray,
you who think that like things can only be
produced from like things, whence was the ori-
gin of that unaccountable host of quails in the
wilderness of old time to feed the children of
Israel, for nowhere do we read that they had
been previously born of mother birds, but that
they were brought up and came suddenly.
Again whence came that heavenly food which
for forty years fell on the camp of the Hebrews .''
Did manna produce manna ? But these refer
to ancient miracles. And what of more recent
ones ? With a few loaves and small fishes the
Lord Jesus Christ fed countless hosts of the
people that followed Him, and not once only.
The reason that they were satisfied lay not in
the food : for a secret and unseen cause sati.s-
fied the hungry folk, especially as there was
much more left when they were filled than
there had been set before them when they
were hungry. And how was all this brought
about that when those who ate were satisfied,
the food itself was multiplied by an extraordi-
nary increase ? We read that in Galilee wine
was produced from water. Tell me how what
was of one nature produced something of an
altogether different substance from its own
quality.? Especially when (which exactly ap-
plies to the birth of the Lord) it was the pro-
duction of a nobler substance from what was
inferior to it ? Tell me then how from mere
water there could be produced rich and splen-
did wine ? How was it that one thing was
drawn out, another poured in ? Was the cis-
I tern a well of such a nature as to change the
: water drawn from it into the best wine ? Or
did the character of the vessels or the dili-
gence of the servants effect this ? Most cer-
tainly neither of these. And how is it that
the majiner of the fact is not understood by the
; thoughts of the heart, though the fnet/i of the
I fact is firmly held by the conscience .'' In
the gospel clay was placed on the eyes of a
blind man and when it was washed off ^ eyes

2 Ablulo eoiVeXschnTiig): Ab luto eo {Gzzxxis).

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THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

were produced. Had water the power of giv-
ing birth to eyes, or clay of creating Hght ?
Certainly not, especially as water could be of
no use to a blind man, and clay would actually
hinder the sight of those who could see. And
how was it that a thing that itself in its own na-
ture was injurious, became the means of restor-
ing health ; and that what was ordinarily hurtful
to sound people, was then made the instrument
of healing ? You say that the power of God
brought it about, and the remedy of God
caused it, and that all these things of which
we have been speaking were simply brought
about by Divine Omnipotence ; which is able
to fashion new things from unwonted material,
and to make serviceable things out of their op-
posites, and to change what belongs to the
realm of things impossible and impracticable
into possibilities and actual performances.

CHAPTER IV.

How God has shown His Omnipotence in His birth in time
as well as in everything else.

Confess then the same truth in respect of
the actual nativity of the Lord, as in respect
of everything else. Believe that God was born
when He would, for you do not deny that He
could do what He would ; unless possibly you
think that that power which belonged to Him
for all other things was deficient as regards
Himself, and that His Omnipotence though
proceeding from Him and penetrating all
things, was insufficient to bring about His own
nativity. In the case of the Lord's nativity
you bring this as an objection against me :
No one <rives birth to one who is anterior in
time : and in regard of the birth which Al-
mighty God underwent you say that the one
who is born ought to be of one substance with
the one who bears ; as if you had to do with
human laws as in the case of any ordinary
man, to whom you might bring the impos-
sibility as an objection, as you include him in
the weakness of earthly things. You say that
for all men there are common conditions of
birth, and but one law of generation ; and that
a thing could not possibly happen to one man
only out of the whole of humanity, which God
has forbidden to happen to all. You do not
understand of whom you are speaking; nor
do you see of whom you are talking ; for He
is the Author of all conditions, and the very
Law of all natures, through whom exists what-
ever man can do, and whatever man cannot
do : for He certainly has laid down the limits
of both ; viz., how far his powers should ex-
tend, and the bounds beyond which his weak-

ness should not advance. How wildly then
do you bring human impossibilities as an ob-
jection in the case of Him, who possesses all
powers and possibilities. If you estimate the
Person of the Lord by earthly weaknesses,
and measure God"s Omnipotence by human
rules, you will most certainly fail to find any-
thing which seems appropriate to God as con-
cerns the sufferings of His Body. For if it
can seem to you unreasonable that Marj- could
give birth to God who was anterior to her,
how will it seem reasonable that God was cru-
cified by men ? And yet the same God who
was crucified Himself predicted : " Shall a
man aft^ict God, for you afflict Me ? " ^ If
then we cannot think that the Lord was born
of a Virgin because He Avho was born was
anterior to her who bore Him, how can we
believe that God had blood ? And yet it was
said to the Ephesian elders : " Feed the Church
of God which He has purchased with His own
Blood." '-^ Finally how can we think that the
Author of life was Himself deprived of life :
And yet Peter says : " Ye have killed the
Author of life." ^ No one who is set on earth
can be in heaven : and how does the Lord
Himself say : " The Son of man who is in
heaven " ? * If then you think that God was
not born of a Virgin because the one who is
born must be of one substance with the one
who bears, how will you believe that different
things can be produced from different natures ?
Thus according to you the wind did not sud-
denly bring the quails, nor did the manna fall,
nor was water turned into wine, nor were many
thousands of men fed with a few loaves, nor
did the blind man receive his sight after the
clay had been put on him. But if all these
things seem incredible and contrary to nature,
unless we believe that they were wrought by
God, why should you deny in the matter of
His nativity, what you admit in the matter
of His works ? Or was He unable to con-
tribute to His own nativity and advent what
He did not refuse for the succour and profit
of men ?

CHAPTER V.

He shows by proofs drawn from nature itself, that the law
which his opponents lay down; viz., that the one born
ought to be of one substance with the one who bears, fails
to hold good in many cases.

It would be tedious and almost childish to
speak further on this subject. But still in order
to refute that folly and madness of yours, in
which you maintain that the one born ought
to be of one substance with the one who

> M,al. iii.8. ' Acts xx. 28. ' Acts iii. 15. * S. John iii. 13.

BOOK VII.

607

bears, i.e., that nothing can produce some-
thing of a different nature to itself, I will bring
forward some instances of earthly things, to
convince you that many creatures are pro-
duced from things of a different nature. Not
that it is possible or right to make any com-
parison in such a case as this : but that you
may not doubt the possibility of that happen-
ing in the case of the holy Nativity, which as
you see takes place in these frail earthly things.
Bees, tiniest of creatures though tRey are, are
yet so clever and cunning that we read that
they can be produced and spring from things
of an entirely different nature. For as they
are creatures of marvellous intelligence, and
well endowed not merely with sense but with
foresight, they are produced from the gathered
flowers of plants. What greater instance do
you think can be produced and quoted ? Liv-
ing creatures are produced from inanimate :
sensate from insensate.^ W'hat artificer, what
architect was there ? Who formed their bodies .''
Who breathed in their souls ? Who gave them
articulate sounds bv which to converse with
each other ? Who fashioned and arranged
these harmonies of their feet, the cunning of
their mouths, the neatness of their wings ?
Their powers, wrath, foresight, movements,
calmness, harmony, differences, wars, peace,
arrangements, contrivances, business, govern-
ment, all those things indeed which they have
in common with men — from whose teaching,
or whose gift did they receive them .' from
whose implanting or instruction ? Did they
gain this through generation ? or learn it in
their mother's womb or from her flesh ? They
never were in the womb, and had no experi-
ence of generation. It was only that flowers
w^hich they culled were brought into the hive ;
and from this by a marvellous contrivance
bees issued forth.- Then the womb of the
mother imparted nothing to the offspring : nor
are bees produced from bees. They are but
their artificers, not their authors. From the
blossoms of plants living creatures proceed.
What is there akin in plants and animals ? I
fancy then that you see who is the contriver
of those things. Go now and inquire whether
the Lord could bring about that in the case of
His own nativity, which you see that He pro-
cured in the case of these tiniest of crea-
tures. Perhaps it is needless after this to add
anything further. But still let us add in sup-
port of the argument what may not be neces-
sary to prove the point. We see how the air

' Ex ituinimis animalia, ex insensibilibus sensibilia tmscuntur
(Petschenig). The text of Gazaeus has ex atomis animalia ttas-
ctiKiur. , , , ,

- Cf. Virgil's Georjrics IV. Rufinus, on the Apostle's Creed
(c. xi.) gives the same illustration of the Incarnation, and cf. with
the passage in the text S. Basil Horn, in Hexaem, IX. ii.

is suddenly darkened, and the earth filled with
locusts. Show me their seed — their birth —
their mothers. For, as you see, they proceed
thence, whence they have their birth. Assert
in all these cases that the one who is born
must be of one substance with the one who
bears. And in these assertions you will be
shown to be as silly, as you are wild in your
denial of the Nativity of the Lord. And what
next ? Do even you think that we must go on
any further? But still we will add something
else. There is no doubt that basilisks are
produced from the eggs of the birds which in
Egypt they call the Ibis. \'\'hat is there of
kindred or relationship between a bird and a
serpent ? Why is the thing born not of one
substance with that which bears it ? And \ et
those who bear are not the authors of all these
things, nor do those who are born understand
them : but they result from secret causes, and
from some inexplicable and manifold law of
nature which produces them. And you are
bringing as objections to His Nativity your
petty assertions from earthly notions, while
you cannot explain the origin of those things,
which are produced by His bidding and com-
mand, whose will does everything, whose sway
causes everything : whom nothing can oppose
or resist; and whose will is sufficient for every-
thing which can possibly be done.

CHAPTER VL

He refutes another argument of Nestorius, in which he tried
to make out that Christ \va.s like -Adam in every pomt.

But since we cannot (as we should much
prefer) ignore them, it is now time to expose
the rest of your more subtle and insidious
blasphemies that at least they may not deceive
ignorant folk. In one of your pestilent trea-
tises you have maintained and said that
" Since man is the image of the Divine na-
ture, and the devil dragged this down and
shattered it, God grieved over His image, as
an Emperor over his statue, and repairs the
shattered image : and formed without genera-
tion a nature from the Virgin, like that of
Adam who was born without generation : and
raises up man's nature by means of man ; for
as by man came death, so also by man came
the resurrection of the dead." They tell us
that some poisoners have a custom of mixing
honey with the poison in the cups which they
prepare ; that the injurious ingredient may be
concealed by the sweet : and while a man is
charmed with the sweetness of the honey, he
may be destroyed by the deadly poison. So
then, when you say that man is the image of
the Divine nature, and that the devil dragged

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THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

this down and shattered it, and that God
grieved over His image as an Emperor over
his statue, you smear (so to speak) the lips of
the cup with something sweet like honey, that
men may drain the cup offered to them, and
not perceive its deadliness, while they taste
what is alluring. You put forward God's
name, in order to speak falsehoods in the
name of religion. You set holy things in
the front, in order to persuade men of what is
untrue : and by means of your confession of
God you contrive to deny Him whom you are
confessing. For who is there who does not
see whither j^ou are going ? What you are con-
triving ? You say indeed that God grieved
over His image as an Emperor over his statue,
and repaired the shattered image, and formed
without generation a nature from the Virgin,
like that of Adam who was born without gen-
eration, and raises up man's nature by man,
for as by man came death, so also by man
came the resurrection of the dead. So then
with all your earnestness, with all your profes-
sions, you crafty plotter, you have managed by
your smooth assertions, by naming God in the
forefront, to come down to a (mere) man in
the conclusion : and in the end you degrade
Him to the condition of a mere man, from
whom under colour of humility you have al-
ready taken away the glory of God. You say
then that the Divine goodness has restored
the image of God which the devil shattered
and destroyed, for you say that He restores
the shattered image. Now with what craft
you say that He restores the shattered image :
in order to persuade us that there was no-
thing more in Him, in whom the image is re-
stored, than there was in the actual image, of
which the restoration was brought about. And
thus you make out that the Lord is only the
same as Adam was : that the restorer of the
image is nothino^ more than the actual destruc-
tible image. Finally in what follows you show
what you are aiming and driving at, when you
say that He formed without generation a na-
ture from the Virgin like that of Adam, who
was born without generation, and raises up
man's nature by man. You maintain that the
Lord Jesus Ghrist was in all respects like
Adam : that the one was without generation,
and the other without generation : the one a
mere man, and the other a mere man. And
thus you see that you have carefully guarded
and provided against our thinking of the Lord
Jesus Christ as in any way greater or better
than Adam : since you have compared them
together by the same standard, so that you
would think that you detracted something
from Adam's perfection, if you added any-
thins: more to Christ.

CHAPTER VH.

Heretics usually cover their doctrines with a cloak of holy
Scripture.

"For as," you say, "by man came death,
so by man came also the resurrection of the
dead." Do you actually try to prove your
wrong and impious notion by the witness cf
the Apostle ? And do you bring the " chosen
vessel " into disgrace by mixing him up with
your wicked ideas ? I mean, that, as you can-
not understand the author of your Salvation,
therefore the Apostle must be made out to
have denied God. And yet, if you wanted
to make use of Apostolic witnesses, why did
you rest contented with one, and pass over all
: the others in silence ? and why did you not at
once add this : " Paul, an Apostle not of men
neither by man, but by Jesus Christ : " ^ or
this : " We speak wisdom among the per-
fect: " and presently: "Whom none," says
he, " of the princes of this world knew ; for
had they known, they would not have crucified
the Lord of glory."- Or this: "For in Him
dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bod-
ily."^ And: "One Lord Jesus Christ through
whom are all things."'* Or do you partly
agree, and partly disagree with the Apostle,
and only receive him so far as in consequence
of the Incarnation ^ he names Christ man,
and repudiate him where he speaks of Him
as God .'' For Paul does not deny that Jesus
is man, but still he confesses that that man
is God : and declares that to mankind the
resurrection came by man in such a way that
he shows that in that man God arose. For
see whether he declares that He who rose was
God, as he bears his witness that Pie who was
crucified was the Lord of glory.

CHAPTER VIII.

The heretics attribute to Christ only the shadow of Divinity,
and so assert that he is to be worshipped together with
God but not as God.

But Still in order to avoid thinking of the
Lord Jesus as one of the whole mass of peo-
ple, you have given to Him some glory, by
attributing to liim honour as a saint, but not
Deity as true man and true God. For what
do you say ? " God brought about the Lord's
Incarnation. Let us honour the form of the
Theodochos ''' together with God, as one form
of Godhead, as a figure that cannot be severed
from the Divine link, as an image of the un-

> Gal. i. I.

2 I Cor. ii. 6, 8.

s Col. ii. Q.
* I Cor. viii. 6.

^ Dispensatio.
6 Cf. V. ii.

BOOK VII.

609

seen God." Above you said that Adam was
the image of God, here you call Christ the
image : the one you speak of as a statue, and
the other also as a statue. But I suppose we
ough: for God's honour to be grateful to you,
because you grant that the form of the Tlieo-
dochos should be worshipped together with
God : in which you wrong Him rather than
honour Him. For in this you do not attribute
to the Lord Jesus Christ the glory of Deity,
but you deny it. By a subtle and wicked art
you say that He is to be worshipped together
with God in order that you may not have to
confess that He is God, and by the very state-
ment in which you seem deceitfully to join
Him with God, you really sever Him from
God. For when you blasphemously say that
He is certainly not to be adored as God, but
to be worshipped together with God, you thus
grant to Him an union of nearness to Divin-
ity, in order to get rid of the truth of His
Divinity. Oh, you most wicked and crafty
enemy of God, you want to perpetrate the
crime of denying God under pretext of con-
fessing Him. You say : Let us worship Him
as a figure that cannot be severed from the
Divine will, as an image of the unseen God.
It is I suppose, then, owing to His kind acts
that our Lord Jesus Christ has obtained
among us honour as Creator and Redeemer.
If then we were redeemed by Him from eter-
nal destruction, in calling our Redeemer a
figure we are endeavouring indeed to respond
to His kindness and goodness, by a worthy
service and a worthy allegiance, if we try to
get rid of that glory which He did not refuse
to bring low for our sakes.

CHAPTER IX.

How those are wrong who sa)' that the birth of Christ was
a secret, since it was clearly shown even to the patriarch
Jacob.

But I suppose you excuse the degradation
offered to the Lord by means of a subordinate
honour, by the words " as the image of the
secret God." By the fact that you term Him
an image you compare Him to man's estate.
In speaking of Him as the image of the secret
God, you detract from the honour plainly due to
Him. For " God," says David, " shall plainly
come ; our God, and shall not keep silence." '
And He surely came and did not keep silence,
who before that He in His own person uttered
anything after His birth, made known His ad-
vent by both earthly and heavenly witnesses
alike, while the star points Him out, the magi

1 Ps. xlix. (l.)3.

adore Him, and angels declare Him. What
more do you want? His voice was yet silent
on earth, and His glory was already crying
aloud in heaven. Do you say then that God
was and is secret in Him? But this was not
the announcement of the Prophets, of the
Patriarchs, aye and of the whole Law. For
they did not say that He would be secret,
j whose coming they all foretold. You err in
your wretcl>ed blindness, seeking grounds for
blasphemy and not finding them. You say
that He was secret even after His advent. I
maintain that He was not secret even before
His advent. For did the mystery of God to
be born of a Virgin escape the knowledge
of that celebrated Patriarch on whom the
vision of God present with him conferred a
title, whereby from the name of Supplanter he
rose to the name of Israel ? Who, when from
the struggle with the man who wrestled with
him he understood the mystery of the Incar-
nation yet to come, said, " I have seen God
face to face, and my life is preserved." " What,
I pray you, had he seen, for him to believe
that he had seen God ? Did God manifest
Himself to him in the midst of thunder and
I lightning ? or when the heavens were opened,
i did the dazzling face of the Deity show itself
to him ? Most certainly not : but rather on
the contrary he saw a man and acknowledged
I a God. O truly worthy of the name he re-
ceived, as with the eyes of the soul rather than
I of the body he earned the honour of a title
I given by God ! He saw a human form wrest-
ling with him, and declared that he saw God.
He certainly knew that that human form was
indeed God : for in that form in which God
then appeared, in the selfsame form He was
in very truth afterwards to come. Although
why should we be surprised that so great a
patriarch unhesitatingly believed what God
Himself so plainly showed in His own Person
to him, when he said, " I have seen God face
to face and my life is preserved." How did
God show to him so much of the presence of
Deity, that he could say that the face of God
was shown to him ? For it seems that only a
man had appeared to him, whom he had actu-
ally beaten in the struggle. But God was cer-
tainly bringing this about by precursory signs,
that there might not be any one to disbelieve

- Gen. xxxii. 30.

The name Israel was in the 4th and 5th centuries commonly ex-
plained to mean the "man seeing God" as if it came from tS^'X;
nX^> and lii- S. Jerome (Qusst. in Genesim c. xxxii. ver. 27,

2S) rejects this interpretation as forced, and prefers " a Prince with
God. Hence the renderingin the A.V. " Kor as a prince hast thou
power with God and with men and hast prevailed." This however
IS now generally rejected, and the right interpretation of the name
appears to be " He who striveth with God." Cf. K. V. " p'or thou
hast Striven with God and with men, and hast prevailed." Cf. the
Conferences, Pref. and V. xxiii. XII. xi.

6io

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

that God was born of man, when already long
before the Patriarch had seen God in human
form.

CHAPTER X.

He collects more witnesses of the same fact.

But why am I lingering so long over one
instance, as if many were wanting I For even
then how could the fact that God was to come
in the flesh escape the knowledge of men,
when the Prophet said openly as if to all man-
kind of Him : " Behold your God ; " and else-
where : " Behold our God." And this : " God
the mighty, the Father of the world to come,
the Prince of Peace ; " and : " of His kingdom
there shall be no end." ^ But also when He
had already come, could the fact of His having
come escape the knowledge of those who
openly confessed that He had come ? Was
Peter ignorant of the coming of God, when he
said, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God ? " '^ Did not Martha know what
she was saying or whom she believed in, when
she said, "Yea, Lord, I have believed that Thou
art the Christ, the Son of- the living God, who
art come into this world .'"'^ And all those
men, who sought from Him the cure of their
sicknesses, or the restoration of their limbs, or
the life of their dead, did they ask these things
from man's weakness, or from God's omnipo-
tence .■*

CHAPTER XI.

How ;he devil was forced by many reasons to the view that
Christ was God.

Finally as for the devil himself, when he
was tempting Him with every show of allure-
ments, and every art of his wickedness, what
was it that in his ignorance he suspected, or
wanted to find out by tempting Him } Or what
so greatly moved him, that he sought God
under the humble form of man .? Had he
learned that by previous proofs ? Or had he
known of anyone who came as God in man's
body ? Most certainly not. But it was by the
mighty evidence of signs, by mighty results of
actions, by the words of the Truth Himself
that he was driven to suspect and examine
into this matter : inasmuch as he had already
once heard from John : " Behold the Lamb of
God, behold Him who taketh away the sin of
the world." ^ And again from the same person :
" I have need to be baptized of Thee, and
comest Thou to me ? " ^ The dove also which
came down from heaven and stopped over the

1 Isa. xl. 9; XXV. 9; ix. 6, 7. s s John xi. 27. <> S. Matt. iii. 14.
* S. Matt. xvi. 16. * S. John i. 29.

Lord's head had made itself a clear and open
proof of a God who declared Himself. The
voice too which was sent from God not in
riddles or figures had moved him, when it
said: "Thou art My beloved Son, in Thee I am
well pleased."^ And though he saw a man
outwardly in Jesus, yet he was searching for
the Son of God, when he said : " If Thou art
the Son of God, command that these stones be
made bread." ^ Did the contemplation of the
man drive away the devil's suspicions of His
Divinity, so that owing to the fact that he
saw a man, he did not believe that He could
be God ? Most certainly not. But what does
he say ? " If Thou art the Son of God, com-
mand that these stones be made bread."
Certainly he had no doubt about the possi-
bility of that, the existence of which he was
examining into. His anxiety was about its
truth. There was no security as to its im-
possibility.

CHAPTER XII.

He compares this notion and reasonable suspicion of the devil
with the obstinate and inflexible idea of his opponents, and
shows that this last is worse and more blasphemous than
the former.

But he certainly knew that the Lord Jesus
Christ was born of Mary: he knew that He
was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in
a manger: that His childhood was that of a
poor person at the commencement of His
human life ; and His infancy without the
proper accessories of cradles : further he did
not doubt that He had true flesh, and was
born a true man. And why did this seem to
him not enough for him to be secure in ? Why
did he believe that He could not be God,
whom he knew to be very man ? Learn then,
you wretched madman, learn, you lunatic, you
cruel sinner, learn, I pray, even from the devil,
to lessen your blasphemy. He said : " If
Thou art the Son of God." You say: "Thou
art not the Son of God." You deny what he
asked about. No one was ever yet found but
you, to outdo the devil in blasphemy. That
which he confessed to be possible in the case
of the Lord, you do not believe to have been
possible.

CHAPTER XIII.

How tlie devil always retained this notion of Christ's Divinity
(because of His secret working which he experienced) even
up to His Cross and Death.

But perhaps he afterwards ceased and
rested, and when his temptations were van-

0 S. Matt. iii. 17.

' S. Luke iv. 3.

BOOK VII.

6ii

quished laid aside his suspicion because he
found no result ? Nay, it rather remained
always in him, and even up to the very cross
of the Lord the suspicion lasted in him and
was increased by peculiar terrors. What need
is there of anything further ? Not even then
did he cease to think of Him as the Son of
God, after that he knew that such licence was
granted to His persecutors a<:^ainst Him. IJut
the crafty foe saw even in the midst of His
bodily sufferings the signs of Divinity, and
though he would have much preferred Him to
be a (mere) man, was yet forced to suspect
that He was God : for though he would have
preferred to believe what he wanted, yet he
was driven by surest proofs to that which he
feared. And no wonder : for although he be-
held Him spitted on, and scourged, and dis-
graced, and L'd to the Cross, yet he saw Divine
powers abounding even in the midst of the
indignities and Avrongs ; when the veil of
the temple is rent, when the sun hides itself,
the day is darkened, and all things feel the
effects of the Passion : all things even, which
know not God, acknowledge the work of
Deity. And therefore the devil seeing this,
and trembling, tried in every way to arrive
at the knowledge of His Godhead, even at
the very death of the manhood, saying in
the person of those who crucified Him : " If
He be the Son of God, let Him come down
now from the Cross, and we will believe Kim." ^
He certainly perceived that by His bodily Pas-
sion our Lord God was working out the re-
demption of man's salvation, and also that by
it he was being destroyed and subdued, while
we were being redeemed and saved. And so
the enemy of mankind wanted by every means
and every wile to defeat that which he knew
was being done for the redemption of all men.
" If," he says, " He be the Son of God, let
Him come down now from the Cross and we
will believe Him : " on purpose that the Lord
might be moved by the reproach of the words,
and destroy the mystery, while He avenged
the wrong. You see then that the Lord even
when hanging on the Cross was termed the
Son of God. You see that they suspect the
fact to which they refer. And so do you learn,
as I said above, even from His persecutors,
even from the devil, to believe on the Son of
God. Who ever came up to the unbelief of
the devil ? Who went beyond it ? He sus-
pected that He was the Son of God even
vvhen He endured death. You deny it even
when He has risen. He suspected that He
w^as God, from whom He hid Himself. Yoii^
to whom He has proved it, deny it.

CHAPTER XIV.

S. Mat'., xxvii. 42

He shows how heretics pervert lioly Scrijiture, by replying to
the argument drawn from the Apostle's words, " Without
father, without mother,'' etc.: Ilcb. vii.

You then make use of the holy Scriptures
against God, and try to bring His own wit-
nesses against Him. Put how? Truly so as
to become a false accuser not only of CJod, but
of the evidences themselves. Nor indeed is
it wonderful that, as you cannot do what you
want, you only do what you can : as you can-
not turn the sacred witnesses against God, you
do what you can, and pervert them. For you
say: Then Paul tells a lie, when he says of
Christ : " Without mother, without genea-
logy." ^ I ask you, of whom do you think that
Paul said this ? Of the Son and \\'ord of God,
or of the Christ, whom you separate from the
Son of God, and blasphemously assert to be a
mere man ? If of the Christ, whom you main-
tain to be a mere man, how could a man be
born without a mother and without a genea-
logy on the mother's side .'' But if of the Word
of God and Son of God — what can we make of
it, when the same Apostle, your own witness,
as you impiously imagine, testifies in the same
place and by the same witness, that He whom
you assert to be without mother, was also with-
out father ; saying, " Without father, without
mother, without genealogy " ? It follows then
that if you use the Apostle's witness, since
you assert that the Son of God was " without
mother," you must also be guilty of the blas-
phemy that He was "without father." You
see then in what a downfall of impiety you
have landed yourself, in your eagerness for
your perversity and wickedness, so that, while
you say that the Son of God had not a mother,,
you must also deny Him a Father — a thing
which no one yet since the world began, ex-
cept perhaps a madman, ever did. And this,
whether with greater wickedness or folly, I
hardly know ; for what is more foolish and
silly than to give the name of Son and to try
to keep back the name of Father .-* But you
say I don't keep it back, I don't deny it. And
what madness then drove you to quote that
passage, where, while you say that He had no
mother, you must seem also to deny to Him a
Father? For as in the same passage He is
said to be without mother and also without
father, it follows that if it can be understood
that there He is without mother, in the same
way in which we understand that He is with-
out mother, we must also believe that He is
without father. But that hasty craze for deny-

2 Heb. vii. 3.

6l2

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

ing God did not see this ; and when it quoted
mutilated, what was written entire, it failed to
see that the shameless and palpable lie could
be refuted by laying open the contents of the
sacred volume. O foolish blasphemy, and
madness ! which, while it failed to see what it
ought to follow, had not the wit to see even
what could be read : as if, because it could
get rid of its own intelligence, it could get
rid of the power of reading from everybody
else, or as if everybody would lose their eyes
in their heads for reading, because it had lost
the eyes of the mind. Hear then, you heretic,
the passage you have garbled : hear in full
and completely, what you quoted mutilated
and hacked about. The Apostle wants to
make clear to every one the twofold birth of
God — and in order to show how the Lord
was born in the Godhead and in iiesh, he says,
" Without father, without mother : " for the
one belongs to the birth of Divinity, the other
to that of the flesh. For as He was begotten
in His Divine nature "without mother," so
He is in the body " without father : " and so
though He is neither without father nor with-
out mother, we must believe in Him " without
father and without mother." For if you regard
Him as He is begotten of the Father, He is
without mother : if, as born of His mother, He
is without father. And so in each of these
births He has one : in both together He is
without each : for the birth of Divinity had no
need of mother, and for the birth of His body,
He was Himself sufficient, without a father.
Therefore says the Apostle " Without mother,
without genealogy."

CHAPTER XV.

How Christ could be said by the Apostle to be without
genealogy.

How does he say that the Lord was " with-
out genealogy," when the Gospel of the Evan-
gelist Matthew begins with the Saviour's
genealogy, saying : " The book of the gene-
rations of Jesus Christ, the Son of David, the
Son of Abraham " ? ^ Therefore according to
the Evangelist He has a genealogy, and accord-
ing CO the Apostle, He has not : for according
to the Evangelist, He has it on the mother's
side, according to the Apostle He has not, as
He springs from the Father. And so the Apos-
tle well says: "Without father, without mother,
without genealogy : " and where he lays down
that He was begotten without mother, there
also he records that He was without genea-
logy. And thus as regards both the nativities of

1 S. Matt. i. I.

the Lord, the writings of the Evangelist and
of the Apostle agree together. For according
to the Evangelist He has a genealogy " without
father," when born in the flesh : and according
to the Apostle, the Lord has not, when begot-
ten in His Divine nature " without mother ; "
as Isaiah says: "But who shall declare His
generation ? " "^

CHAPTER XVL

He shows that like the devil when tempting Christ, the heretics
garble and pervert holy Scripture.

Why then, you heretic, did you not in this
way quote the whole and entire passage which
you had read .-* So you see that the Apostle
laid clown that the Lord was "without mother"
in the same way in which he laid down that
He was born " without father : " that we might
know that He is " without mother " in the same
way in which we understand Him to be "with-
out father." And as it is impossible to believe
Him to be altogether " without father," so we
cannot understand that He is altogether "with-
out mother." Why then, you heretic, did you
not in this way quote what you had read in the
Apostle, entire and unmutilated ? But you in-
sert part, and omit part ; and garble the words
of truth in order that you may be able to build
up your false notions by your wicked act. 1
see who was your master. We must believe
that you had his instruction, whose example
you are following. For so the devil in the
gospel when tempting the Lord said : " If Thou
art the Son of God, cast Thyself down. For it
is written that He shall give His angels charge
concerning Thee to keep Thee in all Ihy
ways." ^ And when he had said this, he leit
out the context and what belongs to it; viz.,
" Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basil-
isk : and thou shalt trample under foot the lion
and the dragon."* Surely he cunningly quoted
the previous verse and left out the latter : for
he quoted the one to deceive Him : he held
his tongue about the latter to avoid condemn-
ing himself. For he knew that he himself
was signified by the asp and basilisk, the lion
and dragon in the Prcphefs words. So then
you also bring forward a part and omit a part;
and quote the one to deceive; and omit the
other for fear lest if you were to quote the
whole, you might condemn your own decep-
tion. But it is now time to pass on to further
matters, for by dwelling too long on particular
points, as we are led to do by the desire of
giving a full answer, we exceed the limits even
of a longish book.

2 Isa. liii. 8.

3 S. Luke iv. g, :o.

< Ps. xc. (xci.) 13.

BOOK VII.

then tliat th;U wliich was conceived by the
Holy Ghost was built and perfected by the Son
of God : not that the work of the Son of (;od
is one thing, and the work of the Holy (;host
another : but that through the unity of the
Godhead and glory the operation of tJie Spirit
is the building of the Son of God; and the
building of the Son of God is the co-operation

CHAPTER XVII.

That the ghiiy and lioiuuir of Christ is not to be ascribed to
the Holy (ihost in such a way as to deny tliat it proceeds
from Christ Himself, as if all that excellency, which was in
Him, was another's and proceeded from another source.

You say then in another discussion, nay
rather in another blasphemy of yours, " and He

separated' the Spirit from the Divine nature | ^^ ^^^^ ^^<^b' ('host. And so we read not only
Who created His humanity. For Scripture ? that the Holy Ghost came upon the Virgin,

but also that the power of the Most High over-
shadowed the Virgin ; that since Wisdom Itself
is the fulness of the Godhead, no one might
doubt that when Wisdom built Itself a house
all the fulness of the Godhead was present.
But the wretched hardness of your blasphemy,
while it tries to sever C hrist from the Son of
God, fails to see that it is entirely severing
the nature of the Godhead from Itself. Un-
less perhaps you believe that the house is there-
fore built for Him by the Holy Ghost because
He Himself was insufficient and incapable of
building for Himself an house. But it is as
absurd as it is wild, to believe that He, whcm
we believe to have created the whole universe
of things heavenly and earthly by His will,
was unable to build for Himself a body : es-
pecially as the power of the Holy Ghost is His
power, and the Divinity and Glory of the Trin-
ity are so united and inseparable, that we can-

says that that which was born of Mary is of
the Holy Ghost. - Who also filled with right-
eousness (justitia) that which was created:
for it says ' He appeared in the Mesh, was jus-
tified in the Spirit.' ^ Again : Who made Him
also to be feared by the devils : " For I,' He
says, 'by the Spirit of God cast out devils.' *
Who also made His flesh a temple. 'For I
saw His spirit descending like a dove and
abiding upon Him.' ^ Again : Who granted
to Him His ascension into Heaven. For it
says, " Giving a commandment to the apostles
whom He had chosen, by the Holy Ghost He
was taken up." ^ Finally that it was He who
granted such glory to Christ." The whole of
your blasphemy then consists in this : that
Christ had nothing of Himself : nor did He, a
mere man, as you say, receive anything from
the Word, i.e., the Son of God ; but everything
in Him was the gift of the Spirit. If then

we can show that all that which you refer to "^^ think of anything at all in One Person
the Spirit, is His own, what remains but that | ^^ the Trinity, which can be separated from
we prove that He whom you therefore would I ^^e fulness of the Gcdhead. Therefore when

have taken to be a man, because as you say
everything which He has is another's, is there-
fore God, because everything which He has is
His own .? And indeed we will prove this not
only by discussion and argument, but by the
voice of Divinity Itself: for nothing testifies
of God better than things divine. And be-
cause nothing knows itself better than the
very glory of God, we believe nothing on the

this is laid down and grasped ; viz., that ac-
cording to the faith of holy Scripture, whtn
the Holy Ghost came upon (the Virgin) and
the power of the Most Fligh overshadow^ed
her, Wisdom builded Itself an house ; the rest
of the slanders of your blasphemy come to
nothing. For neither is it doubtful that He
made all things by Himself and in Himself,
in whose name and faith, the faith even of be-

subject of God with greater right than those ! lievers can do anything. For neither did He
writings in which God Himself is His own | ^^^^ the aid of another, as neither have they
witness. First then, as to this that you say ! "^^<^^<i it, who have trusted in His power,
that the Holy Spirit created His humanity;' 4""^ ^° ^^ for your assertions that He was jus-
we might take it simply, if we could ac- ' tified by the Spirit, and that the Spirit made
knowledge that you had not brought it for- 1 ^^'^ to be feared by the devils, and that His
ward in the interests of unbelief. For neither ^'-'sh became the temple of the Holy Ghost,
do we deny that the flesh of the Lord was con- ' ^"<^^ that He was taken up liv the Spirit into
ceivedbythe Holy Ghost : but we assert that ' ^'^^v^''''' they are all blasphemous and wild:
the body was conceived by the co-operation of "^t because we are to believe that in all these
the Holy Ghost in such a way that we can say ! things which He Himself did, the unity and
that His Humanity" was created for Himself ' ^o-operation of the Spirit was wanting — since
by the Son of God, as the Holy Spirit Itself the Godhead is never wanting to Itself and the
says in holy Scripture, testifying that " Wisdom Power of the Trinity was ever present in the
hath builded for Itself a house." « You see Saviour's works — but because you will have

it that the Holy Ghost gave assistance to the

Lord Jesus Christ as if He had been feeble
and powerless; and that He granted those

1 Separavit (Petschenig).
» S. Matt. i. 20.
3 I Tim. iii. i6.

^ S. Luke xi. 20.
' S. John i. 32.
^ Acts i. 2.

' Homiiient suurn.
' Prov. ix. I.

6i4

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

things to Him, which He was unable to pro-
cure for Himself. Learn then from sacred
witnesses to believe God, and not to mingle
falsehood with truth : for the subject does not
admit it, and common sense abhors the idea
of mingling the notions of the spirit of the
devil with the witnesses that are Divine.

CHAPTER XVni.

How we are to understand the Apostle's words : " He appeared
in the flesh, was justified in the Spirit," etc.

For to begin with this assertion of yours
that the Spirit liUed with righteousness (jus-
titia) what was created, and your attempts to
prove this by the evidence of the Apostle,
where he says that " He appeared in the flesh,
was justified in the Spirit," you make each
statement in an unsound sense and wild spirit.
For you make this assertion ; viz., that you will
have it that He was filled with righteousness
by the Spirit, in order to show how He was
void of righteousness, as you assert that the
being filled with it was given to Him. And as
for your use of the evidence of the Apostle on
this matter, you garble the arrangement and
meaning of the sacred passage. For the
Apostle's statement is not as you have quoted
it, mutilated and spoilt. For what says the
Apostle ? " And evidently great is the mys-
tery of Godliness, which was manifested in
the flesh, was justified in the Spirit." ^ You
see then that the Apostle declared that the
mystery or sacrament of Godliness was justi-
fied. For he was not so forgetful of his own
words and teaching as to say that He was void
of righteousness, whom he had always pro-
claimed as righteousness, saying : " Who was
made unto us righteousness and sanctification
and redemption." "^ Elsewhere also he says :
" But ye were washed, but ye were justified,
but ye were sanctified in the name of our Lord
Jesus Christ."^ How far then from Him was
it to need being filled with righteousness, as
He Himself filled all things with righteous-
ness, and for His glory to be without right-
eousness, whose very name justifies all things.
You see then how foolish and wild are your
blasphemies, since you are trying to take away
from our Lord what is ever shed forth by Him
upon all believers in such a way that still in
its continuous supply it is never diminished.

^ 1 Tim. iii. i6.

2 1 Cor. i. 30. 2 1 Cor. vi. ji.

CHAPTER XIX.

That it was not only the Spirit, but Christ Himself also who
made Him to be feared.

You say too that the Spirit made Him to
be feared by the devils. To reject and re-
fute which, even though the horrible cha-
racter of the utterance is enough, we will still
add some instances. Tell me, I pray, you
who say that the fact that the devils feared
Him was not His own doing but another's,
and who will have it that this was not His
own power but a gift, how was it that even
His name had that power, of which He Him-
self was, according to you, void? How was it
that in His name devils were cast out, sick
persons were cured, dead men were raised ?
For the Apostle Peter says to that lame man
who was sitting at the beautiful gate of the
Temple: "In the name of Jesus Christ arise
and walk." ^ And again in the city of Jcppa
to the man who had been lying en his bed
paralysed for eight years he sa\s, "^neas,
may the Lord Jesus Christ heal thee : arise
and make thy bed for thyself." ^ Paul too
says to the pythcnical spirit : " I charge thee
in the name of Jesus C hrist ccme out of her,"
and the devil came out of her. ® Put under-
stand from this how utterly alien this weak-
ness was from our Lord : for I do not call
even those weak, whom He by His name made
strong, since we never heard of any devil or
infirmity able to resist any of the apostles
since the Lord's resurrection. How then did
the Spirit make Kim to be feared, who made
others to be feared .-* Or was He in Himself
weak, whose faith even through the instrumen-
tality of others reigned over all things ? Fi-
nally those men who received power from God,
never used that power as if it were their own :
but referred the power to Him from whom they
received it : for the power itself could never
have any force except through the name of
Him who gave it. And so both the apostles
and all the servants of God never did any
thing in their own name, but in the name and
invocation of Christ : for the power itself de-
rived its force from the same source as its
origin, and could not be given through the in-
strumentality of the ministers, unless it had
come from the Author. You then — who say
that the Lord was the same as one of His ser-
vants (for as the apostles had nothing but
what they received from their Lord, so you
make out that the Lord Himself had nothing

* Acts iii. 6.

'' Acts ix. 34.

8 Acts xvi. 18.

BOOK VI I.

615

1. 1

but what He received from the Spirit ; and
thus you make out that everything that He
had, He had not as Lord, but had received it
as a servant), do you tell me then, how it was
that He used this power as His own and not as
something which He had received ? For what
do we read of Him? He says to the paraly-
tic : " Arise, take up thy bed, and go to thine
house." ^ And again to' a father who pleads
on behalf of his child, Pie says : *' Go thy
way : thy son liveth." ■^ And where an only
son of his mother was being carried forth for
burial, •" Young man," He says, " I say unto
thee. Arise." ^ Did He then, like those who
received power from God, ask that power
might be given to Him for performing these
things by the invocation of the Divine Name?
Why did He not Himself work by the name of
the Spirit, just as the apostles wrought by His
Name ? Finally, what does the gospel itself
state about Him? It says: "He was teach-
ing them as one that had authority, and not
like the Scribes and Pharisees." * Or do you
make out that He was so proud and haughty
as to put to the credit of His own might the
power which (according to you) He had re-
ceived from God ? But what do we make of
the fact that the power never submitted to His
servants, except through the name of its au-
thor, and could have no efficacy if the actor
claimed any of it as his own ?

CHAPTER XX.

He tries by stronger and weiglitier arguments to destroy tliat

notion.

But why are we so long dealing with your
wild blasphemy, with arguments that are plain
indeed but still slight ? Let us hear God Him-
self speaking to His disciples : " Heal the
sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast
out devils." ^ And again : " In My name," He
says, " ye shall cast out devils." ^ Had He any
need of Another's name for the exercise of His
power, who made His own name to be a
power? But what is still added? "Behold,"
He says, " I have given you power to tread
upon serpents and scorpions and upon all the
power of the enemy."' He Himself says that
He w^as gentle, as indeed He was, and humble
in heart. And how was it that as regards the
greatest possible power. He commanded others

to work in His own name, if He Himself
worked in Anollier's name? Or did He give
to others, as if it were His own, what He
Himself, according to you, did not possess,
unless He received it from Another? But
tell me, which of the saints receiving power
from (jod, so worked ? Or would not Peter
have been thought a lunatic, or John a mad-
man, or Paul out of his mind, if they had said
to any sick folk : "In our name arise ; " or to
the lame: "In oin- name walk;" or to the
dead: "In our name live;" or this to some:
" We give you power to tread upon serpents
and scorpions and upon all the power of the
enemy " ? You see then from this your mad-
ness : for just as these words are mad if they
spring from man's assurance, so are you utterly
mad if you do not see that they come from
Divine power. For you must admit one of
two alternatives ; either that man could pos-
sess and give Divine power, or at any rate if
no man can do this, that He who could do it,
was God. For no one can grant of His liber-
ality Divine powder, except Him who possesses
it by nature.

CHAPTER XXI.

That it must be ascribed equally to Christ and the Holy Ghost
that His flesh and Humanity became the temple of God.

But there follows in your blasphemy that
His flesh was made a temple of the Holy
Ghost, for this reason, that John has said :
" For I saw the Spirit descending from heaven
and abiding upon Him." * For you try to sup-
port even this wild statement of yours by
Scriptural authority : wherefore let us see
whether this sacred authority has said that
which you say. " For I saw," it says, " the
Spirit descending like a dove, and abiding
upon Him." Discern here, if you can, which
is the more powerful, which greater, which
more to be honoured ? He who descended, or
He to whom the descent was made ? He who
brought down the honour, or He to whom the
honour was brought ? Where do you find in
this passage that the Spirit made His flesh a
temple ? or wherein does it lessen the honour
of God, if God Himself descended to show
God to mankind ? For certainly we ought not
to think that He is less whose high estate was
pointed out, than He who pointed out His
high estate. But away with the thought of
believing or making any separation in the
Godhead : for one and the same Godhead

• S. Matt. ix. 6.
' S. John iv. 50.
' S. Luke vii. 14.

* S. Matt. vii. 39.
s S. Matt. X. 8.

' S. Mark xvi. 17.
' S. Luke X. 19.

• S. John i. 32.

6i6

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

and equal power shut out altogether the
wicked notion of inequality. And so in this
matter, where there is the Person of the F"ather
and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and
where it is the Son of God to whom the de-
scent is made, the Spirit who descends, the
Father who gives His witness, no one had
more honour, and no one received any slight,
but it all redounds equally to the fulness of
the Godhead, for each Person of the Trinity
contains within Himself the glory of the whole
Trinity. And so nothing further needs to be
said, except only to show the rise and origin
of your blasphemy. For thorns and thistles
springing up from the roots produce shoots of
their own nature, and from their character
show their origin. So then you also, a thorny
offshoot of the Pelagian heresy, show in germ
just the same that your father is said to have
had in the root. For he ^ (as Leporius his fol-
lower said) declared that our Lord was made
the Christ by His baptism : you say that at
His baptism He was made the temple of God
by the Spirit. The words are not altogether
identical : but the wrong-headedness is alto-
gether the same.

CHAPTER XXH.

That the raising up of Christ into heaven is not to be ascribed
to the Spirit alone.

But you add this also to those impieties of
yours mentioned above ; viz., that the Spirit
granted to the Lord His ascension into
heaven : showing by this blasphemous notion
of yours that you believe that the Lord Jesus
Christ was so weak and powerless that had
not the Spirit raised Him up to heaven, you
fancy that He would still at this day have
been on earth. But to prove this assertion
you bring forward a passage of Scripture : for
you say " Giving commands to the apostles
whom He had chosen, by the Holy Ghost He
was raised up." ^ What am P to call you ?
What am I to think of you who by corrupting
the sacred writings contrive that their evi-
dences should not have the force of evidences?
A new kind of audacity, which strives by its
impious arguments to manage that truth may
seem to confirm falsehood. For the Acts of
the Apostles does not say what you make out.
For what says the Scripture .' " What Jesus
began to do and to teach until the day in
which giving charge to the apostles whom He

' Ilk enim ; viz., Pelaeius. Tliis appears to be the true readinj;,
though one MS. followed by Gaza.'us has Leporius ille enitn ; a read-
ing which would involve the supposition that there were two persons
of the name of Leporius, master and scholar.

2 Acts i. 2.

had chosen by the Holy Ghost, He was taken
up." Which is an instance of Hyperbaton,
and must be understood in this way : what
Jesus began to do and to teach until the day
in which he was taken up, giving charge to
the apostles whom He had chosen by the
Holy Ghost ; so that we ought not perhaps to
have to give you any further answer in this
matter than that of the passage itself, for the
entire passage ought to be sufficient for the full
truth, if the mutilation of it was available for
your falsehood. But still, you. who think that
our Lord Jesus Christ could not have ascended
into heaven, unless He had been raised up by
the Spirit; tell me how is it that He Himself
says " No one hath ascended into heaven but
He who came down from heaven, even the Son
of man who is in heaven".''^ Confess then
how foolish and absurd your notion is that He
could not ascend into heaven, who is said,
although He had descended into earth, never
to have been absent from heaven : and say
whether to leave the regions below and ascend
into heaven was possible for H irn to Avhcm it
was easy when still on earth, ever to continue
in heaven. But what is that which He Him-
self says : " I ascend unto my Father." ^ Did
He imply that in this ascension there would be
the intervention of Another's help, who by the
very fact that He said He would ascend, shows
the efficacy of His own power.'' David also
says of the Ascension of the Lord : " God as-
cended with a merry noise, the Lord with the
sound of the trumpet : " ^ He clearly explained
the glory of Him who ascends by the power of
the ascension.

CHAPTER XXHL

He continues the same argument to show that Christ had no
need of another's glory as He had a glory of His own.

But to end let us see the addition with
which you sum up your preceding blasphe-
mies. Your words are, " Who gave such ^
glory to Christ .' " You name glory in order to
degrade Him. For by the assertion that the
Lord was endowed with glory, in saying that
He received it you blasphemously imply that
He stood in need of it. For your perverse
notion suggests that the generosity of the
Efiver shows the need of the receiver. O mis-
erable impiety of yours ! and where is that
which Divinity itself once foretold of the Lord
Jesus Christ ascending into heaven.? Saying:
" Lift up your heads, and the King of glory

* S. John iii. 13.

* S. John XX. 17.

^ Ps. xlvi. (xlvii.)6.
" Tantam Petschenig.

Tainen Gazaeus.

BOOK VII.

617

shall come in." ^ And when He (after the
fashion of Divine utterances) had made an-
swer to Himself as if in the character of an
inquirer : " Who is the King of glory ? " at
once He adds : " The Lord strong and mighty,
the Lord mighty in battle : " showing under
the figure of a battle fought, the victory of the
Lord in His triumph. Then when, to com-
plete the exposition of it, He had repeated the
words of the utterance quoted above. He
showed by the following conclusion the ma-
jesty of the Lord as He entered heaven, saying
'' The Lord of hosts. He is the King of glory."
On purpose that the fact of His taking a body
might not interfere with the glory of His
mighty Divinity. He taught that the same
Person was Lord of hosts and King of hea-
venly glory, whom He had previously pro-
claimed Victor in the battle below. Go. now ^
and say that the glory was given to the Lord,
when both prophecy has said that He was the
King of glory, and He Himself also has testi-
fied of Himself as follows: "When the Son
of man shall come in His glory." ^ Refute
it, if you can, and contradict this ; viz., that
whereas He testifies that He has glory of His
own, you say that He has received Another's.
Although we maintain that He has His own
glory, in such a way that we do not deny that
His very property of glory is common to Him
with the Father and the Holy Ghost. For
whatever God possesses belongs to the God-
head : and the kingdom of glory belongs to
the Son of God in such a way that it is not
kept back from belonging to the entire God-
head.

CHAPTER XXIV.

He supports this doctrine by the authority of the blessed

Hilary.

But it is quite time to finish the book, aye
and the whole work, if I may however add the
sayings of a few saintly men and illustrious
priests, to support by the faith of the present
day what we have already proved by the au-
thority of holy Scripture. Hilary, a man en-
dowed with all virtues and graces, and famous
for his life as well as for his eloquence, who
also, as a teacher of the churches and a priest,
advanced not only by his own merits but also
by the progress of others, and remained so
steadfast during the storms of persecution that
through the fortitude of his unconquered faith

^ Ps. xxiii« fxxiv.) 7.

2 I nunc Petschenig. The text is however doubtful. One MS.
reading In hunc, and anotheryawi nunc.

3 S. Matt. XXV. 31.

" An angel is witness that
God with us." Again in

he attained the dignity of being a Confessor,^
— he testifies in the First book on the faith
that the Lord Jesus Christ. Very God of Very
God, was both begotten before the world, and
afterwards born as man. Again in the Second
book: "One only Begotten God grew in the
womb of the holy Virgin into the form of a
human body ; He who contains all things, and
in whose power all things are, is brought forth
according to the law of human l)irth." Again
in the same book :
He who is born is

the Tenth book : " We have taught the mystery
of God born as man by the birth from the Vir-
gin." Again in the same book: "For when
God was born as man, He was not born on
purpose not to remain God." '' Again in the
same WTiter's preface to his exposition of the
gospel according to Matthew : "^ " For to begin
with it was needful for us that for our sakes
the only Begotten God should be known to be
born as man." Again in what follows: "that
besides being God, He should be born as man,
which He was not yet." Again in the same
place : " Then this third matter was fitting :
that as God was born as man in the world "
etc. : Here are a few passages out of any
number. But still you see even from these
which we have quoted, how clearly and plainly
he asserts that God was born of Mary. And
where then is this saying of yours : " The
creature could not bring forth the Creator :
and that which is born of the flesh, is flesh."
It would take too long to quote passages bear-
ing on this point from each separate writer. I
must try to enumerate them rather than to ex-
plain them : for they will sufficiently explain
themselves.

CHAPTER XXV.

He shows that Ambrose agrees with S. Hilary.

Ambrose, that illustrious priest of God, who
never leaving the Lord's hand, ever shone like
a jewel upon the finger of God, thus speaks in
his book to the Virgins : " My brother is white
and ruddy. ' White because He is the glory
of the Father : ruddy because He was born of
the Virgin. But remember that in Him the
tokens of Divinity are of longer standing than
the mysteries of the body. For He did not

< S. Hilary of Poictiers {ab. A.D. .•?68). The reference is of
course to his banishment to Phr\';ia by tlie Emiieror Constantius in
356, because of his resolute defence' of the Nicene faitli against
Arianism.

'> De Trinitate H. xxv., xxvii.; X. vii.

•■' This Preface to Hilary's work on S. Matthew is now lost,
though the commentary itself still exists. See Opera S. Hilarii Pic-
tav : (Verona, 1730). Vol. i. 658.

' Cf. Cant. V. 10 (LXX.).

6i8

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

begin to exist from the Virgin, but He who
was already in existence, came into the Vir-
gin.'' ^ Again on Christmas Day : *' See the
miracle of the mother of the Lord : A Virgin
conceived, a Virgin brought forth. She was a
Virgin when she conceived, a Virgin when with
child, a Virgin after the birth. As is said in
Ezekiel : " And the gate was shut and not
opened, because the Lord passed through it." -
A splendid Virginity, and wondrous fruitful-
ness ! The Lord of the world is born : and
there are no cries from her who brought Him
forth. The womb is left empty, and a true
child is born, and yet the Virginity is not de-
stroyed. It was right that when God was born
the power of chastity should become greater,
and that her purity should not be violated by
the going forth of Him who had come to heal
what was corrupt." ^ Again in his exposition
of the gospel according to Luke he says that
" one was especially chosen, to bring forth
God, who was espoused to an husband." ^ He
certainly declares that God was born of the
Virgin. He calls Mary the mother of God.
And where is that awful and execrable utter-
ance of yours asking how can she be the
mother of one of a different nature from her
own. But if she is called mother by them, it
is the human nature which was born not the
Godhead. So, that illustrious teacher of the
faith says both that she who bare Him was
human, and that He who was born is God :
and yet that this is no reason for unbelief, but
only a miracle of faith.

CHAPTER XXVI.

He adds to the foregoing the testimony of S. Jerome.

Jerome, the Teacher of the Catholics, whose
writings shine like divine lamps throughout
the whole world, says in his book to Eusto-
chium : " The Son of God for our salvation
was made the Son of man. He waits ten
months in the womb to be born : and He,
in whose hand the world is held, is contained
in a narrow manger." ^ Again in his com-
mentary on Isaiah : " For the Lord of hosts,
who is the King of glory. Himself descended
into the Virgin's womb, and entered in and
went forth from the East Gate which is ever
shut."® Of whom Gabriel says to the Virgin:
" The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and
the power of the Most High shall overshadow

• S. Ambrose. De Virg. Lib. i. xlvi. ^ Ezek. xliv. 2.

^ These words are not found in any extant writing of S. Ambrose,
but something very Hke them occurs m S. Augustine's Sixth Sermon
in NataU Domini.

* In Lucam II. i. ' Ep. xxii. Ad Eustochium.
<■ Cf. Ezek. xUv. 2.

thee. Wherefore that holy thing which shall be
born of thee shall be called the Son of God."
And in Proverbs : " Wisdom hath builded
herself an house." ' Compare this if you
please with your doctrine or rather your blas-
phemy, in which you assert that God is the
Creator of the months, and was not an off-
spring of months. For lo, Jerome, a man of
the greatest knowledge and also of the most
pure and approved doctrine testifies almost in
the very words in which you deny that the
Son of God was an offspring of months, that
He was an offspring of months. For he says
that He waits ten months in the womb to be
born. But perhaps the authority of this man
seems a mere nothing to you. You may take
it that every one says the same and in the
same words, for whoever does not deny that
the Son of God is the offspring of the Virgin,
admits that He is the offspring of months.

CHAPTER XXVII.

To the foregoing he adds Rufinus and the blessed Augustine.

RuFiNUS also, a Christian philosopher, with
no mean place among Ecclesiastical Doctors
testifies as follows of the Lord's Nativity in
his Exposition of the Creed. " For the Son
of God," he says, " is born of a Virgin, not
chiefly allied to the flesh alone, but generated
in the soul which is the medium between the
flesh and God." "* Does he witness obscurely
that God was born of man ? Augustine the
priest ^ of Hippo Regiensis says : " That men
might be born of God, God was first born of
them : for Christ is God. And Christ when
born of men only required a mother on earth,
because He always had a Father in heaven,
being born of God through whom we are
made, and also born of a woman, through
whom we might be re-created." ^° Again, in
this place : " And the Word was made flesh
and dwelt among us. Why then need you
wonder that men are born of God .-" Notice
how God Himself was born of men." Again
in his Epistle to Volusianus : " But Moses
himself and the rest of the prophets most
truly prophesied of Christ the Lord, and gave
Him great glory : they declared that He would
come not as one like themselves, nor merely
greater in the same sort of power of working
miracles, but clearly as the Lord God of all,
and as made man for men. Who therefore
Himself also willed to do such things as they

' Book III. c. vii. ' Rufiniis in Symb. c. xiii.

" There is no authority for the reading of Cuyck and Gazxns
"^^ag;lms Sacerdos." On the coldness with which Augustine is
here spoken of see the Introduction, p. 191. Note.

'" August. Tract. II. in Johan. xv.

BOOK VII.

619

did to prevent the absurdity of His not doing
Himself those things which He did through
them. But still it was right also for Him to do
something special ; viz., to be born of a Virgin,
to rise from the dead, to ascend into heaven.
And if anyone thinks that this is too Uttle for
God, I know not what more he can look for.^

CHAPTER XXVni.

As he is going to produce tiie testimony of Greek or Eastern
Bisliops, he brings forward in the first place S. Gregory
Nazianzen.

Eur perhaps because those whom we have
enumerated came from different parts of the
world, their authority may seem to you less
valuable. An absurd thing, indeed, because
faith is not interfered with by place, and we
have to consider what a man is, not where :
especially since religion unites all together,
and those who are in the one faith may be
also known to be in the one body. But still
we will bring forward for you some, whom you
cannot despise, even from the East. Gregory,
that most grand light of knowledge and doc-
trine, who though he has been for some time
dead, yet still lives in authority and faith, and
though he has been for some time removed in
the body from the Churches, yet has not for-
saken them in word and authority. " When
then," he says, " God had come forth from the
Virgin, in that human nature which He had
taken, as He existed in one out of two which
are the opposite of each other ; viz., fiesh and
spirit, the one is taken into God, the other
exalts into the grace of Deity.- O new and
unheard of intermingling ! O marvellous and
exquisite union ! He w^ho was, came to be,
and the Creator is created : and He who is
infinite is embraced by the soul which is the
medium between God and the flesh : and He
who makes all rich, is made poor." Again he
says of the Epiphany : ■• But what happens .''
What is done concerning us and for us .' There
is brought about some new and unheard of
change of natures and God is made man."
Again in this passage : ^ '' The Son of God
began to be also the Son of man, not being I
changed from what He was, for He is un- 1

changeable, but taking to Himself what He
was not: for He is pitiful so that He, who
could not be embraced, can now be embraced."
You see how grandly and nobly he asserts the
majesty of His Godhead so that He may bring
in the condescension of the Incarnation: for
that admirable teacher of the faith knew well
that of all the blessings which (]od granted to
us at His coming into the world this was the
chief, without diminishing in any way His
glory. For whatever God gave to man, ought
to increase the love of Him in us, and not to
lessen the honour which we give to Him.

CHAPTER XXIX.

In the next place he puts the authority of .S. Athanasius.

Athanasius also, priest of the city of Alex-
andria, a splendid instance of constancy and
virtue, whom the storm of heretical persecu-
tion tested without crushing him : whose life
I was always like a clear glass, and who had
i almost obtained the reward of martyrdom be-
fore attaining the dignity of confessorship :
Let us see what was his view of the Lord
Jesus Christ and the mother of the Lord.
"This then." he says, "is the mind and stamp
of Holy Scripture, as we have often said ; viz.,
that in one and the same Saviour two things
have to be understood : (i) that He was ever
God, and is Son, Word, and Light, and Wis-
dom of the Father, and (2) that afterwards
for our sakes He took flesh of the Virgin
Mary the Theotocos, and was made man."*
Again after some other matter : " Many then
were saints and clean from sin: Jeremiah also
was sanctified from the womb, and John, while
still in the womb leapt for joy at the voice of
Mary the Theotocos."^ He certainly says
that God," the Son of God, who (to declare
the faith of all in his words) is "the Word,
and Light and Wisdom of the Father," took
flesh for our sakes ; and therefore he calls the
Virgin Mary Theotocos, because she was the
Mother of God.

^ Ep. cxxxvii. c. 4.

2 Altud in Deuin adsumitur, aliud in Deitatisgratiam prastat.
So Petschenig edits. Tlie text of Gazxus has aliud Deitatis gratia
pnestat.

" Greg. Nazianz. Oratio xxxviii. The Greek of the passage
which Cassian translates is as follows : itpOiKQiuv 6t ©ebs y-tra. ■Tri%
7rpotrA7)t//<:aj5 'kv iK ouo Twr evavTLuji', (XapKOf; Kat Tri-eu/xaTo? • wr to
ixiv edeuicre to 6c eOeuiOr), it t>)s KaLfrji; fi.i^eui<;, u> T^9 Trapa&o^ov
Kpacrews, b a)f yiverat Kai 6 aKTt(7To? KTL^eraL Kat 6 a\u}pr}TOs
X<op£iTai 6td >xeerT)9 i//ux')'> ''0(p°^'! lifaiTevovari^ SeoTijTt /cai (TapKo;
TTaxvTrjTi, Kai. 6 n^ovTL^iov TTTioxfiiei. Oratio xxxix. Ti yiverai icai
Tt TO /xeya Trept YjtJ.as fJivarripLOi' ; KaLVorofMOvfTat <^ua"€t9 Kai ©eb^
ai'Qpiono^ yivGTai . . • Kai 6 vib? tou 0eoO 6e\eTai Kai uib?
avOpomov yiviaOai re xal icATjS^i/at, ov\ b t)v |txcTa^aAu>i', aTptmovv
yap, d.KA 'o oiiK riv 7rposAo/3u)f, </)iAacdp<o7ros yap, iva \iiipri97J 6
dxt*jp»)TOS'

CHAPTER XXX.

He adds also S. John Cinysostom.

As for John the glory of the Episcopate
of Constantinople, whose holy life obtained

* See the orations against the Arians IV. Tlie Greek is as follows :
Skotto? Toiyvu ouTO? Kai \apaKT-op Tr)<; ypafi>Y)^^ to? JroAAaKt? einofxty^
^ittA^c nyai Trjv nepl toO ffaiTi^po? aTrayyeAiat' ^V avTrj^ ore T€ aei
0€6? r)V Kai e<TT.v o v^oc, A6709 ^v #cai airavyaauLa Kai <To4>ia tou
TTarpo?, Kai on varepov 61' rjfxa^ adpKa Aa^oji^ ck napOevov t^9 ^€0-
TOKOU MapLo.; ai/flpcuTTO? yeyouev'

^ Ibid. TToAAot yot-*' ayioiytyovaxri Ka*. KaOapoi Traarj? a^taprta? •
*l€p£/ii.ia; 6e Kai eV KOiAta? r)yLd(TBr} Kai 'Icodt'i'i^? €Ti Kvo<i)opov(jL€yoi
€<rKipTyj<T€V €y ayaAAcd<7€t ctti ttJ (ftuivfj t^? &€Ot6kov Mapia?.

620

THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN.

the reward of • martyrdom without any show
of Gentile persecution, hear what he thought
and taught on the Incarnation of the Son of
God : " And Him," he says, " whom if He had
come in unveiled Deity neither the heaven nor
the earth nor the sea nor any other creature
could have contained, the pure womb of a Vir-
gin bore." ^ This man's faith and doctrine
then, even if you ignore that of others, you
ought to follow and hold, as out of love and af-
fection for him the pious people chose you as
their Bishop. For when it took you for its
priest from the Church of Antioch, from which
it had formerly chosen him, it believed that it
would receive in you all that it had lost in i
him.^ Did not, I ask you, all these almost i
with prophetic spirit say all these things in
order to confound your blasphemies. For you !
declare that our Lord and Saviour Christ is
not God : they declare that Christ the Lord
is Very God. You blasphemously assert that
Mary is Christotocos not Theotocos : they do {
not deny that she is Christotocos, while they
acknow^ledge her as Theotocos. Not merely
the substance but the words also are opposed
to your blasphemies : that we may clearly see j
that an impregnable bulwark was formerly
prepared by God against your blasphemies,
to break on the wall of truth ready prepared,
the force of the heretical attack which was at [
some time or other to come. And you, O you
most wicked and shameless contaminator of
an illustrious city, you disastrous and deadly
plague of a Catholic and holy people, do you
dare to stand and teach in the Church of God, ,
and with your wild and blasphemous words
slander the priests of an ever unbroken faith
and Catholic confession, and say that the peo-
ple of the city of Constantinople are in error
through the fault of their earlier teachers ?
Are you then the corrector of former Bishops,
the accuser of ancient priests, are you better
than Gregory, more approved than \ectarius,
greater than John,''^ and all the other Bishops
of Eastern cities who, though not of the same
renown as those w^hom I have enumerated,
were yet of the same faith ? which, as far as
the matter in hand is concerned, is enough :

1 The passage has not been klentified with any now extant in the
writings of ,S. Chrysostom.

- S. Chrysostom had been taken from Antioch for the Bishopric
of Constantinople : and after the death of Sisinnius in 426, as there
was so much rivalry and party spirit displayed at Constantinople,
the Emperor determined that none of that Church should fill tlie
vacant see, but sent for Nestorius from Antioch, where he had al-
ready gained a great reputation for eloquence (cf. Socrates H. E.
VII. xxix.). It is to the fact that both S. Chrysostom and Nestorius
came from the same city that Cassian alludes'in the text.

^ The reference is to Gregory Nazianzen, IJishop of Constanti-
nople from 379 to 381 when he retired in the interests of peace;
to Nectarius who was chosen to succeed him, and occupied the post
from 381 to 397; and to his successor, S. John Chrysostom, 397 to
404.

for when it is a question of the faith, all are as
good as the best in so far as they agree with
the best.

CHAPTER XXXL

He bemoans the unhappy lot of Constantinople owing to the
misfortune which has overtaken it from ^that heretic : and at
the same time he urges the citizens to stand fast in the
ancient Catholic and ancestral faith.

Wherefore I also, humble and insignificant
as I am in name as in desert, and although I
cannot claim a place as Teacher among those
illustrious Bishops of Constantinople, yet ven-
ture to claim the zeal and enthusiasm of a
disciple. For I was admitted into the sacred
ministry by the Bishop John, of blessed me-
mory, and offered to God, and even though I am
absent in body yet I am still there in heart :
and though by actual presence I no longer mix
with that most dear and honourable people of
God, yet I am still joined to them in spirit.
And hence it comes that condoling and sym-
pathizing with them, I broke out just now into
the utterance of our common grief and sorrow,
and in my weakness cried out (which was all
that I could do) by means of the dolorous
lamentation of my works, as if for my own
limbs and members : for if as the Apostle
says, when the smaller part of the body is
grieved, the greater part grieves and sympa-
thizes with it,^ how much more should the
smaller part sympathize when the greater part
is grieved.^ It is indeed utterly inhuman for
the smaller parts not to feel the sufferings of
the greater in one and the same body, if the
greater feel those of the smaller, ^^'herefore
I pray and beseech you, you who live within
the circuit of Constantinople, and who are
my feUow-citizens through the love of ni)-
country, and my brothers through the unity of
the faith ; separate yourselves from that raven-
ing wolf who (as it is written) devours the
people of God, as if they were bread. ^ Touch
not, taste not anything of his, for all those things
lead to death. Come out from the midst of him
and be ye separate and touch not the unclean
thing. Remember your ancient teachers, and
your priests ; Gregory whose fame was spread
through the world, Nectarius renowned for
holiness, John a marvel of faith and purity .
John, I say ; that John who like John the
Evangelist was indeed a disciple of jesus and
an Apostle : and so to speak ever reclined on
the breast and heart of the Lord. Remember
him, I say. Follow him. Think of his purity,
his faith, his doctrine, and holiness. Remem-

* Cf. I Cor. xji. 26.

5 Ps. xiii. (xiv.) 4; Col. ii, 21, 23; 2 Cor. vi. 17.

BOOK Vll.

621

ber him ever as your teacher and nurse, in
whose bosom and embraces you as it were

grew up

Who was the teacher in common

both of vou and of me : whOse disciples and

pupils we are.

Read his writings. Hold fast

his instruction. Embrace his failh and merits.
For though to attain this is a hard and mag- ;
nificent thing : yet even to follow is beautiful
and sublime. For in the highest matters, not '
merely the attainment, but even the attempt
to copy is worthy of praise. For scarcely any- ,
one entirely misses all parts in that to which
he is trying to climb and reach. He then
should ever be in your minds and almost in
your sight : he should live in your hearts and
in your thoughts. He would himself commend
to you this that I have written, for it was he
who taught me what I have written : and so do
not think of this as mine, so much as his : for
the stream comes from the spring, and what-
ever you think belongs to the disciple, ought '
all to be referred to the honour of the master.
But, beyond and above all I pray with all my

heart and voice, to Thee, O God the Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ, that Thou wouldest
fill witii the gift of Thy love whatever we have
written by i iiy bounteous grace. And be-
cause, as tile Lord our God Thine Only liegot-
ten Son Himself taught us. Thou hast so loved
this world as to send Thine Only Begotten Son
to save the world, grant to Thy people whom
Thou hast redeemed that in the Incarnation of
i'hine Only Begotten Son they may perceive
both Thy gift and His love : and that all may
understand the truth that for us Thine Only
Begotten, our Lord God, was born and suffered
and rose again, and may so love it that the
condescension of His glory may increase our
love : and let not His Humility lead to a dimi-
nution of His honour in the hearts of all men,
but let it ever produce an increase of love : and
may we all rightly and wisely comprehend the
blessings of His Sacred Compassion, so as to
see that we owe the more to God, in propor-
tion as for our sakes God humbled Himself
vet lower.

INDICES.

SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

INDEX OF SUBIECTS.

Abraham, 71.

Ambrose, St., on baptism, 5.

Angels, 71.

Antichrist, the coming of, 15; battle
with Nero about the rule of the
earth, 45; the ten plagues at
his coming, 112.

Arianism, in Illyria and Gaul, 7; or-
igin, spread, definition, and his-
tory, 113; infiltration in the
catholic church after the council
of Nice, intrigues, violence, 114;
Valens, the condemnation of
Athanasius, 115; Liberius and
Hilarius exiled, homo-ousion
and homoi-ousion, Osius of
Spain, the Gallic bishops at
Ariminum, 116, the synod of
Seleucia in the East, 1 17; vic-
tory of the Arians, 118; final
overthrow of Arianism, 1 19.

Athanasius, 114.

Auxentius, 7.

Avenger and Defensor, 8.

Avitianus, 47, 49.

Baptism, in its relation to regenera-
tion, 5 ; dying without baptism, 8.

Bishops, appointment of, 8; " sum-
mus sacerdos," 17; St. Martin's
episcopal throne, 38; his mir-
aculous power greater while a
monk than when a bishop, 39.

Christ, the birth, life, and crucifixion

of, no.
Chronology, 56, 71, 72, 77, 106.
Clarus, 15, 20.
Claudia, the sister of Sulpitius, 55,

58.
Creation of the world, the number of

days not given, but the number

of years, 71.
Cross, The true, 113.

Daniel, 97.

David, 87 et seq.

Day of Judgment approaching. The,

14.
Demons, 42, 48, 49, 53, no.
Devil, The, and St. Martin, 14;

Clarus, Anatolius, and the
devil's garment, 15; tempts St.
Martin, 16.

Dialogue I., between Postumianus,
returning from the East, Sulpi-
tius, and a Gallic friend, con-
cerning the virtues of the monks
of the East, 24; visit to Cyrene;
the presbyter's hut, the church;
comparison between Cyrene and
Gaul; refusal of gold coins, ac-
ceptance of pieces of clothing,
25; visit to Alexandria, strife
between the bishops and the
monks about the writings of
Origen, 26; visit to Bethlehem;
Hieronymus; his attack on the
Gallic monks, 27; visit to The-
bais; the monks of the Desert
and their abbot, 28; comparison
with the monks of Gaul, 29; the
hermit and his ox, 30; the her-
mit and the wolf, 30; the an-
chorite and the lioness, 31; the
anchorite and the ibex, 32; the
recluse of Mount Sinai, 32;
the monasteries along the Nile
and the principle of monastic
life; obedience, 32; examples of
obedience, 32; recluses caught
by vanity and spurious righteous-
ness, and punished therefor,
33; eulogy of the book of Sul-
pitius on St. Martin; eulogy of
the monarchism of the East, and
transition to the eulogy of St.
Martin, 34.

Dialogue II., between the same in-
terlocutors concerning the vir-
tues of St. Martin, 37; clothing
the shivering man, 37; restores
Evanthius and the poisoned bag,
38; is beaten by the soldiers
but stops their conveyance, 39;
preaches to the Carmites and re-
stores the widow's dead son, 40;
forces an entrance to Valentin^
ian, 40; in intercourse with the
palace, 41; the cow with the
demon on its back, 42; the

623

hunted hare, 43; sayings, 43;
the soldier and his wife, 43;
virgins and women, 44; conver-
sation with Agnes, Thecla, and
Mary, 45; synod of Mcmausus;
Nero and Antichrist, 45.
Dialogue III., continuation of Dia-
logue II., 46. A great number
of people rush to the place
but are not admitted, as it is
not proper for the merely cu-
rious to mix with the truly pious,
46; St. Martin as a Western
compeer of the Eastern saints,
46; the dumb girl of Carmites,
46; blessed oil, 47; Avitianus,
47, 49; manner of exorcising
demons, 4S; the village of the
Senones, 49; the idol-temple of
the Ambatienses, 49; various
miracles, 50; Priscillian and
Ithacius, 50; the ordination of
Felix, 52; the Egyptian mer-
chant, Lycontius, and other
miracles, 52; " If Christ bore
with Judas why should not I
bear with Brichio? " 53.

Esther and Judith, 102.

Felix, 52, 54.
Fish at Easter, 50.

Gnosticism appears in Spain, 119;
its origin in the East, spread,
and invasion in the West, 120.

Helena, 113.
Herod, no.

Idols and idolatry among the Gauls,

49; among the Hebrews, 84.
Israel in Egypt, 75.
Ithacius, 50, 120.

Jerome in Bethlehem; his attack on

the Gallic monks, 27.
Jerusalem, 91; destruction, m; the

Jews forbidden to approach the

city, 112; magnificently rebuilt

by the Christians, n3.

624

SULPITIUS SEVERUS.

Jews, The, slaughtered at the time of
Passover to expiate the crucifix-
ion of Christ, III.

Joseph, 75.

Joshua, 81.

Judith and Esther, 102, 104.

JuUan, the Apostate, 4, 6.

Length of Life among the fathers of
mankind, 71, 72, 73.

Letters, whose genuineness is not
doubted. — • L To E u s e b i u s,
concerning some infirmity as-
cribed to St. Martin, and not.
spoken of in his life by Sul-
pitius, 18. — IL To Aurelius,
concerning a vision of St. Mar-
tin, which occurred to Sulpitius
at the moment of the death of
the former, 19. — IIL To Bas-
swla, concerning the death of
St. Martin, 21.

Letters, whose genuineness is doubt-
ed.— L To his sister Claudia,
concerning the last judgment,

55. Happy shall be our depart-
ure, for glory will be granted us
through mercy. But where shall
the wise men of the world he?

56. They will say: "We did
not know Thee, Lord," but
Noah will testify against them
and Abraham, 56; and David
and the Son of God, 57; and
the Evangelist will say to them:
" Go you into outer darkness."
— IL To his sister Claudia, con-
cerning virginity, 58. Virginity
has both the common and a
special grace. No court of
heaven is closed against the vir-
gins. Christ chose a virgin for
mother, 58. But as honey is
preserved by the waxj so virgin-
ity cannot be possessed without
some other necessary adjuncts,

59. Virginity must lead to con-
tempt of the world, and con-
tempt of the world again to
righteousness, 59. Definition of
righteousness, 60, according to
which the Christian must not
only keep himself from wicked-
ness, but also fulfil the duties,

60. The question, however, is
not about the nature of the of-
fence, but about the transgres-
sion of the commandment, 61.
While the married woman pleases
her husband, the unmarried
pleases God, 62; and everything
depends upon being pure also in
spirit, 63. But why did not the
Apostles enjoin these things on
virgins? 64. Because it was un-
necessary, for if you wish to be
with Christ, you must live ac-
cording to the example of Christ,
65. Rules for virgins and women
in general, 66. — IIL To Paul,
the bishop, recommending a
rather mediocre cook to him, 67.

— IV. To the same, compli-
menting him upon his talent and
success as an instructor and edu-
cator, 68. — V. To an unknown
person, concerning a youth who
had fallen into the snares of the
theatre but escaped, 68. — VI.
To Salvius, concerning some
rural and domestic affairs, 69.

— VII. To an unknown per-
son, asking for a letter, 70.

Manna, 78.

Martin, St., Birth, military service,
4; vision of Christ, baptism, 5;
retires from military service, con-
verts a robber, 6; meets the
devil, visits Illyria, Milan,
Rome, joins Hilarius, restores a
catechumen to life, 7; restores
one strangled, becomes bishop
of Tours, 8; his hermit cell,
fasts, camel-hair clothing, 9;
demolishes the robber's altar,
stops the peasants with the dead
body, 9; escapes from a falling
pine-tree, destroys heathen altars
and temples, 10; offers his neck
to an assassin, cures the paralytic
girl at Treves, li; casts out
several devils, performs various
miracles, 12; cures by a letter,
13; at the banquet of Maximus,
13; disputes with the devil, 14;
Clarus, Anatolius, and the devil's
garment, 15; tempted by the
devil, 16; intercourse with Sul-
pitius, 16; excellences, 16; piety,
17; death, 19, 21; virtues, see
Dialogue I., 1 1., III.

Martyrs in Gaul, 1 12.

Maximus, the emperor, invites St.
Martin to a banquet, 13; the
queen waits upon him, 46; Pris-
cillian and Ithacius, 50.

Memausus, Synod of, 45.

Mercury annoying St. Martin, Jupiter
stupid and doltish, 45; acknow-
ledging themselves demons, 49.

Miracles, views of, by Sulpitius Seve-
rus. Dr. Arnold of Rugby, Arch-
deacon Farrar, 4; performed by
St. Martin, 7, 8, li, 12, 13;
views of the miracles of St. Mar-
tin, by Milner and Cardinal
Newman, 17; more miracles by
St. Martin, 38, 39; testimonies
to miracles, 48.

Mistakes in Sulpitius's Sacred His-
tory, 71, 72, 75, 79, 85, 87, 94,

95. 115-

Monasteries along the Nile, 32.

Moses, 76.

Nero and Antichrist, 45, no; his
death, in.

Obedience, the principle of monastic
life, 32.

Origen. Forgery in his writings; re-
lation to Hieronymus, 26; mar-
tyrdom, 112.

Paradise situated outside our world
altogether, 71.

Persecutions of the Christians, no,
112; end of persecutions, 112.

Popes, " papa," 17.

Prayer as the foundation of miracu-
lous power, 19, 40, 46, 49.

Priscillian, 50, 120.

Quotations from the Bible. 5, Matt.
XXV. 40; 7, Ps. cxviii. 6; Luke
viii. 46; 8, Ps. viii. 3; 9, Matt,
iii. 4; Matt. xi. 8; 18, ISIatt.
xxvii. 42; Acts xxviii. 4; Rom.
xi. 13; 2 Cor. xi. 25; 55, Luke
iv. 62; Ezek. xviii. 24; 56, Ex.
XX. 14; Lev. xix. 18; Deut. vi.
13; Ex. XX. 3; Ps. cxi. 2; Ps.
cxlix. 5; 57, cxii. 10; Isa. v.
8; Matt. xxii. 13; Ps. xxxiv.
13; 58, Rom. xii. i; 2 Cor.
vii. 17; Isa. Ivi. 5; Matt. xix.
12; Rev. xiv. 5; 59, 2 Cor. vii.
25; 60, Ps. xxxiv. 14; Rom.
xii. 15; Matt. vii. 12; 61, Matt.
XXV. 41; James ii. 10; 62, i
Cor. vii. 34; Phil. iv. 8; Eccl.
xxi. 24; 63, Prov. iii. 3; Wisd.
i. 12; Ps. xxiv. 3; I Pet. i. 22;
Rev. xiv. 4; I John iii. 24: 2
Pet. ii. 8; 64, Rev. xiv. 5; Eph.
v. 27; I Pet. iii. i; 65, Ps. xcvii.
10; John v. 24.

Revelation, The, foolishly or impi-
ously not received by many, 112.

Samson, 84.

Samuel, 86.

Saul, 86.

Sayings of St. Martin, 43.

" Secretarium," 19.

Simon Mngus, no.

Slavery, 78.

Solomon, 90.

Sulpitius Severus. Life, i ; writings,
2; editions and translations, i;
estimates by Paulinus of Nola,
Gennadius, p.p. Scaliger, \'os-
sius, Archdeacon Farrar, 2;
reasons for writing the life of St.
Martin, 3; intercourse with St.
Martin, 16; defence of St. Mar-
tin, 18; Vision of St. Martin,
19; see Dialogues and Letters.

" Summus Sacerdos," 17, 58.

Ten Tribes, The, 102.

Texts, corrupted or uncertain, 4, 8,
ID, 14, 21, 22, 23, 38, 41, 43,
46, 47, 59, 61, 62, 65, 67, 76,
77, 80, 86, 108, 114.

Thebais, The monks of, 28; the lioy
and the asp, 29; the hermit and
his ox, 30; the hermit and the
wolf, 30; the anchorite and the
lioness, 31; the anchorite and
the ibex, 32.

Valentinian, the emperor, 40.
Virgins, 44, 58 sqq.

Women, 40, 41, 44, 62, 66.

INDEX OF TEXTS.

PACE

J'ACIE

PAGB 1

PACE

Gen. iv. 17 ... 71

Prov. iv. 26 . . . 63

St. Matt. xi. 8 . . 9

I Cor. vii. 34 . . . 62

viii. 20

xi. 20 .

xiii. 43 . .

xii. 9 .

xviii. I

xvii. 3 .

xix. 12

2 Cor. xi. 25 .

Exod. XX. 3

Eccl. iv. 21

•

xix. 17

Eph. iv. 29

XX. 14 .

iv. 31 •

xxii. 13

V. 27 . .

Lev. xix. iS .

xxvi. 24

xxv. 40 .

Phil. iv. 8 . .

Deut. vi. 13

xxviii. 24

xxv. 41

Col. iii. 12 . .

I Sam. V. 6

Isa. V. 8 .

xxvii 42

I Thes. V. 15 .

xiii. 20

xxvi. 15

St. Luke ii. 36

102

I Tim. ii. 9, ic

Ps. ii. 1 1 .

xxxvii.

iv. 62 .

2 Tim. ii. 24 .

viii. 3 .

hi. 5 .

viii. 46

James ii. 10

xxxiv. 14

Ixvi. 2 .

St. John V. 44

iii. 2 . .

xxxiv. 10

Jer. xii. 13

Acts xiii. 21

I Pet. i. 22 .

xxxiv. 13

xlviii. 10

XX. 28

iii. I ff .

xlv. 10

Ezek. xviii. 24

xxviii. 4

. 18

iii 9 . .

xcvii. 10

• 65

xxxvii.

Rom. i. 9-12

2 Pet. ii. 8 .

• 63

cxi. I .

. 56

Wisd. i. 1 1

xi. 13 .

I John iii. 21 .

cxii. 10

• 57

St. Matt. iii. .

xii. I .

• 5S

Rev. vii. 14

cxviii. 6

V. S .

xii. 14 .

. 63

xiii. 3 .

. II I

cxlix. 5

• 56

V. 28 .

xii. 15 .

. 60

xiv. 4 .

. 58, 63, 64

Prov. iii. 3 .

. 63

vii. 12.

I Cor. vi. 17

• 58

xiv. 4 ff

. . 64

iv. 23 .

. 63

X. 22 .

•

■ 67

vii. 25 .

• 59

VINCENT OF LERINS.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Agbippinus, bishop of Carthage,

135-
Ambrose, St. de Fide, 134.

Antehni, 143, 157.

Apollinaris, 12S, 139, 143.

Ariminum, council of, 133.

Arius, 128, 133, 150.

Aries, council of, 135.

Athanasius, St., 133.

Athanasian Creed, 128, 140, 141, 157.

Augustine St., 127, 135, 155, 158, 159.

Baptism, Iteration of, 128, 134, 135.
Baronius, 127.
Bazaine, Marshal, 127.

Capreolus, Bishop of Carthage, 155.
Celestine, Pope, 127, 130, 156, 159.
Celestine, letter to the bishops of

Southern Gaul, 156, 159.
Coelestius, 149, 150.
Commonitorium, 131.
Communication of Properties, 142.
Cyprian, St., 135.
Cyril, St., of Alexandria, 127, 155.

Development, 147.

Donatus, Doaatists, 128, 133.

Ephesus, council of, 127, 130, 138,
155-

Faustus, bishop of Riez, 127.

Gennadius, 127, 12S.

Honorat St., Island of, 127.
Honoratus, St., 127, 131.
Hilary, bishop of Aries, 127, 157.
Hilary, bishop of Poictiers, 133.
Hooker, 133, 135, 142.

Jerome, St., 133.

Julian, bishop of Eclanum, 153.

Lerins, island of, 127.

Mammea, mother of the Emperor

Severus, 144.
Marguerite, St., island of, 127.
Massilian clergy, 127, 158.
Monasterium, 127.
Montanus, 145.

Nestorius, 130, 138, 139, 140, 143, 155.
Nicene creed, enlarged, 129.
Novatian, 150.
Noris, Cardinal, 127.

Objectiones Vincentianae, 128.
Orange, 2d council of, 149.
Origen, 129, 143.
Orosius, 149.

Pelagius, 149.

Person, persona, 141, 142.

Philip, the first Christian emperor,

144.
Photinus, 128.
Possidius, 134.
Porphyry, 139, 144.
Prosper, 127, 158, 159.

Quod ubique, quod semper, quod
ab omnibus, 12S, 132.

Sabellius, 150.
Sedes apostolica, 135.
Semi-Pelagianism, 128, 149.

Simon Magus, 150.

Sixtus Third, Pope, 127, 130, 155.

Stephen, Pope, 134.

Tertullian, 129, 145.
Theotocos, 143, 157.
Tillemont, 128, 132.

Vandal persecution, 134.
Victor, Bishop of Vite, 134.
Villula, 131.

Waterland, 157.

Zosimus, bishop of Rome, 149.

INDEX OF TEXTS.

PAGE

den. ix. 22

136

St. Matt. iv. 5

151

2 Cor. xi. 12 . . . 151

I Tim. vi. 20 . . 147, 156

Exod. xxxi. I

147

vii. 15 , .

150

xii. 2 .

137

2 Tim. ii. 16, 1

. 136

Deut. xiii. i

.138,

145

St. John iii. 13

142

Gal. i. 6 .

136

iii. 6 .

136

xxxii. 7

131

Acts xi. 28 . .

153

i. 8 .

136

iii. 8 .

136

Ps. xxii. 16

142

Rom. vii. 13 .

140

i. 9 .

156

iii. 9 .

136

xlvi. 10

, ,

131

xvi. 17, 18 .

136

ii. 9 .

ISO

iv. 3. 4

136

Prov. iii. i .

, ,

131

I Cor. i. 10 . .

153

V. 16 .

137

Titus i. 10 .

136

ix. 16-18

, ,

147

ii. S ...

142

V. 25 .

137

2 John 10 .

149

xxii, 17

131

ii. 9 . . .

146

I Tim. i. 19

136

Rev. V. 1-5

134

xxii. 28

. ,

146

V, II . . .

149

V. 12 .

136

Eccles. X. 8

146

xii. 27, 28 .

153

V. 13 .

136

Ecclus. viii. 14

146

xiv. 33 (bis)

153

vi. 4 .

136

JOHN CASS IAN,

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Abel replaced by Seth and his seed,

383-
Abraham, Egyptian abbot, consulted

by Gerniaiius and Cassian, 186;
quoted from, 1S8; works miracu-
lous cures, 447; his Conference
on mortification, 531 sq.

Accidie, Acedia, 233, 266 sq., 339,
343-4, 533; akin to dejection,
266, 342, 533; injures the soul,
267 sq.; description of, 267 sq.,
533; how to be cured, 268 sq.,
275, 342 sq., 350, 533; of two
kinds, 344.

Adam called TrpuToir^.noros 281; an ex-
ample of sin, 340; had know-
ledge by divine inspiration, 383;
how tempted and fell, 379; sac-
rificed his liberty, 526; moral
results of his transgression, 519
sq.; not a complete figure of
Christ, 607-8; first restored in
the Second, 340.

Alleluia, ending a psalm, 207, 210.

Alms, a duty and privilege, 503.

Altar reproached by Nestorius' pre-
sence, 596.

Ambidextrous, applied spiritually,

356-7-

Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, his teach-
ing on the Incarnation, 617.

Ammon organised rnonasticism in
Lower Eg)'pt, 186.

Ananias and Sapphira, 252, 256, 257,
482, 516.

Anastasius, Nestorius' chaplain, 190,
556; follower of Theodore of
Mopsuestia, 556; preaches
against Theotokos, 190, 556;
originates Nestorianism, 190,

549. 556.
Anchorites in Eg)'pt, 1S4, 293, 319,
477, 480 sq., 523; visited by
Cassian and Germanus, 184;
originated by St. Antony and
St. Paul, and why so called, 48 1 ;
their aim, 185, 293, 319, 477,
484, 490, 492; their humility
and patience, 484, 490; pre-
ferred by Cassian, 185, 480,
523; have a grander life than
the Coenobites, 293, 481, 490,
523; how they are trained, 480,
490, 523; the best districts for
them, 523.

Andronicus, abbot, cured of a Pos-
session, 373.

Angelic powers created by God, 377,
381; I lis purpose in creating,
377; two to each person, 381.

Anger, its evils, 257, 342, 367,
451 sq., 459, 485; its better
side, 258: examples against,
259; against ourselves is valu-
able, 260; as spoken of God,
258; its implacable form as re-
venge, 260, 261; cured by recon-
ciliation, 261, 386, 452, 457,
459; as cured by the Gospel,
263, 350, 386; "with excuse"
considered, 363, 452; of three
kinds, 344; destroys friendship,
452, 453i 459; to be repressed,
459, 485; to be rooted out by a
monk, 257 sq., 339, 343, 350,
452.

Anger's Synopsis, 304.

Anthropomorphic language account-
ed for, 25S-9.

Anthropomorphites and their teach-
ing, 187, 188, 258, 401, 403;
the heresy and controversy, 319,
401 sq.

Antidosis, its definition, 375.

Antioch, creed of, 592, 593, 596;
used against Nestorius, 594-6.

Antiphona, 205, 208, 217.

Antiphonal singing, 205, 217.

Antony, hermit in the Thebaid, 186,
234, 308, 310; founder of rnon-
asticism, 234, 243, 481; his
sayings to the monks, 234; his
fastings, 243; how he became
an ascetic, 320; bequeathed his
sheepskin to Athanasius, 203;
originated the anchorites, 481;
his opinion on prayer and its
conditions, 398; and on self-
help for a monk, 536; was
tempted by the devils, 382.

Apollinarians, 551-2; taught that
Jesus had no human soul, 552.

Apollonius, ApoUos, abbot in the
Thebaid, 314, 335.

Appear, its Scriptural force, 559.

Arcadius, Bishop in Gaul, 192.

Archebius, anchorite, Bishop in Egypt,

184, 245, 246, 371, 415; assists

Cassian, 184, 246, 415; gives

his cell to Cassian, and builds

627

others, 186, 246; earned money
to clear off his mother's debts,
246; was Bishop of Panephysis,

. 415-

Arians and Arianism, 551, 552, 593.

Ascension of Christ by His own
power, 616, 617.

Ash-Wednesday, 514.

Athanasius quoted, 401; teaches the
Incarnation, 619.

Athlete in Christ, 237 sq., 263.

Augustine, Bishop of Hippo Regius,
teaches the Incarnation, 61S;
developed predestinarianism,
190-3; his teaching one-sided.
193; how related to Pelagian-
ism, 190, 191; not valued by
Cassian, 191, 618; restored Le-
porius, 552-5; date of his death,
192.

Augustinianism, 190-3.

Aurelian of Aries, his rule, 224.

Auxerre, Council of, 401.

Auxonius, Bishop in Gaul, 192.

Avarice a principal fault, 339.

Babel and the confusion of tongues,

335-
Bad things, discussed, 352 sq
Baptism, the grace of, 527.
Barber, Abbot Macarius' story of,

537-

Basil, Bishop of Csesarea, 254; aided
monasticism, 200, 212; his rule,
213, 217, 219, 224, 274; a say-
ing of his, 254.

Basilisk said to be from the Ibis*
L'gg, 607.

Bees, used in illustration, 607.

Benedict of Nursia, organiser of mon-
astic system, 189, 194, 243; his
rule, 194, 205, 209, 215, 216,
218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 224,
225, 232, 243, 274, 405, 482.

Bethlehem, monastery at, 1S4, 185,
230; received Cassian and Ger-
manus, 185.

Bibliotheca Maxima Patrum, 553.

Bingham quoted, 217, 330, 482, 503.

Birth, the new, through the font,
593 sq., 600.

Bishops, why disliked by the Eg)'jv
tian monks, 401.

Blessed oil, 244.

Braga, Council of, 401.

628

JOHN CASSIAN.

Bright quoted, 190, 191, 193, 207,

212, 554.
Burial by embalming, 447.
Butler, on the Coptic churches, 186,

187.

Csesarius, Bishop of Aries, 193; his

rule, 206, 215, 224.
Cain, the seed of, 382 sq.; called

"the Daughters of men," 383.
Calamus, desert in Egypt, 274, 321,

37J. 533-
Canaanites represent classes of sins,

347. 350.

Canonical prayers, 205, 208, 2IO.

Cases of conscience, 185.

Cassian, called John and Afer, 1S3,
184, 245; probably from Gaul,
183, 184, 186, 188; his own
account of his country, 183,
532; his parentage and rela-
tions, 184; connected with Mar-
seilles, 183; well educated in
youth, 183, 184; ordained by
John Chrysostom, 184, 188, 594,
620; travelled with his friend
Germanus, 184, 185, 295, 450,
460, 479; was long in Egypt,

183, 1S6, 413, 415; attached to
the monastery at Bethlehem,

184, 416, 460; visited the Egyp-
tian anchorites, 184, 319, 413,
415, 460 sq., 479; had prom-
ised to return to Bethlehem,

185, 416, 460 sq. ; wished to
stay longer in Egypt, 673; made
Joseph his adviser, 185,460 sq.;
longed for the anchorite life,
185, 186, 416, 480 ; his duty to
return to Bethlehem, 186, 532,
539; his visits to Egypt uncer-
tain, 186, 187; was ordained at
Constantinople, 188, 620; put in
charge of the Cathedral treasury,
188; supported S. Chrysostom,
188, 619, 620; was sent as en-
voy to Rome and made priest
there, 188; settled at Marseilles,
188, 189; wrote at Marseilles,
188, 189; influenced Western
monasticism, 189; his dates, 184,
188, 189, 193; his relation to
Pelagianism, 193; his Pelagian
writings, 192, 193; his biblio-
graphy, 193 sq.; his writings ex-
purgated, 194; his writings
against Nestorius, 195, 549 sq.;
his visit and conference with
Paphnutius, 187, 319 sq. ; his
visit and conference with Abbot
Daniel, 330 sq.; how he came
to write the Institutes and Con-
ferences, 413; and on the In-
carnation, 430, 549; uses doubt-
ful language in theology, 564;
misinterprets, 592.

Cassiodorus organised monasteries,
194; his rule, 215; quoted, 184.

Castor, Bishop of Apta Julia, 189,
199; asked Cassian to write
upon the Institutes, 199, 234,
293. 387. 413; taught psalm-

singing, 2(35; founded a monas-
tery and died, 205, 293.

Casuistry, cases of, 351 sq., 460 sq.,
468-9, 519 sq.

Catechumens, Mass of, 278, 279.

Catholic rule, the, 202.

Cave of the Nativity, 230.

Celestine, Bishop of Rome, 190; ap-
pealed to from Gaul, 192; his
death, 193.

Cells, monastic, and their furniture,

389.. 497-

Cenodoxia, or vainglory, 339.

Chseremon, aged anchorite in Egypt,
184, 415, 416; received Cassian
and Germanus, 184, 416; de-
livered three discourses, 185,
192, 415; his teaching criticised,
192; his bodily appearance and
condition, 416; first Conference
on Perfection, 413, 416 sq.; third
Conference on The Protection of
God, 422 sq.

Chastity discoursed upon, 185, 235,
236, 361 sq., 422 sq., 437, 518;
that of the philosophers often im-
aginary, 424; it ought not to be
tested, 495.

Cheek offered to the smiter, 457.

Cherubim, what they mean, 440.

Christ, not a mere man, 190, 552 sq.;
always was and is God, 562 sq.;
called God, 563, 564, 577, 582
sq., 598, 606; called God in
prophecy, 557, 558, 559, 578;
called God by S. Paul, 559,
560, 564, 565, 567; given divine
titles, 560, 562, 564, 566, 567,
577, 582, 583, 585, 606; giver
of divine grace, 561, 582; state-
ment of His nature and titles,
562, 564, 577, 582, 606; the
Wisdom of God and the Power
of God, 568, 598; born of a
Virgin, 552 sq.; has two natures
and one Person, 565 sq. ; alone
sinless, 340 sq., 552; the hypo-
static union in Christ, 575, 602;
the Communication of Properties,
575. 577-9. 584. 598, 600, 601;
One Person in Christ, 555 sq.;
not God through His merits, 553
sq., 561 sq., 581-3, 594, 598;
not made God at baptism, 553,
554, 561, 562, 598, 616; or at the
resurrection, 553, 554, 562, 599;
was before His birth, 557 sq.,
573 sq., 587, 595, 600, 601,
606; existed from all eternity,
573 sq., 601, 606; prayed to
by name, 604; worshipped as
God and in God 609; had His
own glory, 616; called by
Nestorius, Theodochos, 581,
582, 608; had power in Him-
self, 613-5; J^f'^v tempted as
the Second Adam, 340 sq.,
610; how unique in nature and
temptation, 340- 1 ; the order of
His temptations, 341 ; His sacri-
ficial death, 213, 340; how filled
with the Spirit, 421, 554, 557,

613; how different from the
saints, 582, 587, 590, 598; not
a bodily p*hantasm at birth, 583,
584, 590, 594; or like a molten
image, 558, 581, 590, 594, 60S
sq.; misrepresented by Ebion,
552; by Nestorianism, 190, 421,
551 sq.; by Photinianism, 553,
554; how our Saviour, 5S0; a
sacrifice and an example, 552;
His name effective in miracles,
447; His doctrine complete,
552; omnipotence in His birth,
606, 608; never a secret God,
609, 617; descended into hell,
213,214; had a genealogy, 612;
His twofold parentage, 61 1-2;
was more than Adam, 607-8;
born yet eternal, 574, 604, 606;
foreshown in prophecy, 558,
578, 579.. 583; acknowledged
by the devil, 610; His Incarna-
tion taught by S. John, 584, 587;
His teaching about Himself, 586,
587; the teaching of His resur-
rection, 585, 600; the teaching
of the Creed, 594-5; account
and teaching of His baptism,
572; the ascension by His own
power, 616-7; His yoke easy
and burden light, 541-3; draws
by love, 505; not two Christs,
598-9, 602.

Christian Remembrancer quoted, 193.

Christmas, its observance, 401.

Christotocos, why advocated by Nes-
torius, 556, 557, 620.

Chrysostom quoted, 401, 592.

Church Quarterly Review, 581.

Clement of Alexandria, 218, 488.

Ccenobite monks, 185, 206, 480;
practise obedience and subjec-
tion, 185, 206, 480; their aim
and perfection, 492; their origin,
480; their institutes, 205 sq.,
480; inferior to the Anchorites,
293, 490 sq. ; their renunciations,
480; their customs as to using
Scripture, 206.

Ccenobium, like the primitive church,
480; how different from a mon-
astery, 483; its training, 490;
less strict than the anchorite
monastery, 490-2; its conven-
iences, 491 sq.; its distractions,
492; what if one leaves it,

493-4-

Collect, CoUecta, 218.

Commentators to be avoided, 245.

Communication of Properties, its
definition, 57>; as in Christ,
575-So, 584, 598, 601-2.

Communion, Holy, on Saturday and
Sunday, 486; daily, 373, 486;
weekly, 531; once a year by
some monks, 531; is the Lord's,
218; how often to be received,
373. 531'' '^ *" '^^ refused to
possessed, 372-3.

Compline service, 215.

Concealments by the saints, 469,470.

Conception of Christ, 557, 562.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

629

Confession, jiart of monastic training;,
221, 312 sq., 500; destroys Sa-
tanic tyranny, 312-3; to he re-
ceived in synipntliy, 313-5; as a
means of perfection, 455, 409
sq.; its seal, 3 1 3-4.

Conscience, as our guide, 511; gives
surest proof of pardon, 49S.

Contrition by remembrance of sin,
499, 501.

Conviction of sin, of different kinds,
396; leads to fervent prayer,
396, 397; often to tears, 397.

Cook, to the monks by turns, 225; or
permanent, 225-6

Cords of the monk, 203.

Counliiii; on the fingers, its spiritual
meaning, 544.

Covetousness, arguments against, 248
sq., 342 sq.; as a vice, yet
made useful, 249; its root, 250,
344; its effects upon a monk,
250 sq.; treated as a sin, 252,
342; how to be conquered, 255;
found in complete poverty, 255;
examples of, 255-6; three kinds
of, 344.

Creed, has divine and human author-
ity, 593; is witness to the truth,
593-6, 602; to be believed as a
whole, 600-1.

Creeds, enriched from Canons, 592;
in singular or plural, 592-3; that
of Antioch, 592, 593, 596, 601.

Cross, sign of, 382,447; preached by
S. Paul, 567; an offence to the
world, 567, 598.

Curzon quoted, 185.

Cyclinnius, perhaps Bishop of Frejus,

552.
Cyril of Alexandria quoted, 190, 401.

Dalila the Philistine, 465.

Daniel, Egyptian priest, visited Cas-
sian and Germanus, 187, 330.

David, as an example of self-restraint,
259, 260.

" Daughters of men," how related to
the fallen angels, 382 sq.

Dead man raised to life, 446-7; the
bodies embalmed, 447.

Decanus, the dean in a monastery,
221.

Dejection, as hurting the soul, 264
sq-, 339. 342, 343; whence and
how it comes, 265, 342; how
healed, 264 sq. 350; when use-
ful, 266; akin to Accidie, 266,
343; of two kinds, 344; as
despair of salvation, 265.

Demoniacs, as possessed, 366.

Deposition of a late abbot, celebrated,

185, 489-

Descent into hell, with release to
some, 213-4.

Desert, its advantages, 491.

Devils, how united to the human
soul, 366, 371, 374; subject to
man's power, 382; have power
over the possessed, 366, 371,
374, 382; how they know men's
thoughts, 367, 371, 389; tempt

by suggestion, 367-9, 453, 538-
9; their modes of attack, 36S,
371. 374. 382, 453; various in
rank and aims, 36S, 374 s(|. 38 1,
53S; have struggles in tenij.ling
and overcoming, 369, 3S2; limited
by divine permission, 370, 382;
fear Christ, 613; are driven out,
445, 487; fight with men,
449; sow disputes, 453; pro-
claim false doctrine, 374; their
fall, 378-9; invisible in the air,
379; tight with each other, 380;
why called powers, 380.

Diaconate, its duties, 278.

Diaconia, its meaning, 483, 503.

Diogenes, story alxnit, 424.

Diolcos, monasteries at, 246, 479;
visited by Cassian, 246.

Discipline for obedience, 21 1.

Discretion, discoursed upon, 187, 308
sq. ; necessary to a monk, 308
sq.; examples of its absence, 309
sq.; how to be gained, 309; its
Scripture testimony, 311, 316.

Dismissal of the Catechumens, 279.

" Dissolves Jesus," criticism upon,

..587-.
Divine gifts, discoursed upon, 185,

445 sq.; threefold system of,

445; powers of healing, 446-7;

chief is humility, and casting out

personal faults, 448.
Divine government, questions upon,

. .445-
Divinity of Christ, misrepresented by
heresy, 551 sq.; is not a later
addition, 553 sq., 561.
Dorner quoted, 564.
Dove descended on Christ, 610.
Duchesne quoted, 401.
Duties in the monastery divided, 224.

Easter, time announced from Alex-
andria, 401 ; preceded by Lent,

Easter and Whitsuntide season, 207,
212, 447; called Quinquagesima,
207, 212, 447, 503; its customs,
207, 212.

Easter-Eve, 513.

Eating only at meals, 224.

Ebion, speculations as to his per-
sonality, 551; a humanitarian,

. 551. 588.
Ebionites, their teaching about Christ,

551. 588.

Economy, the divine, 588.

Envy, a fault hard to cure, 488.

Ephesus, Council of, 549.

Epiphanius, Bishop of Salamis, pro-
moted monasticism, 212; quoted,
274, 401, 488, 551.

Epiphany, account of the festival,
401.

Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons, 189,
413, 479; epitomised Cassian's
Institutes, 193; received the
dedication of Seven Confer-
ences, 477, 479.

Eunomians, 446, 551; perhaps sepa-
rated the Persons of the Trin-

ity, 552; the first Anomceons,

552.
Eunuchs, their lukewarmness, 336.
Eupre])ius, his monastery at Antioch,

592.
Eusebius, Bishop of Caesarea, quoted,

207, 302, 488, 515.
P'usebius, Bishop of Dorylaium, 592.
Eutychianism approached by Cassian,

564.
Evagrius quoted, 556.
Eve suffered by persuading Adam,

379-
Evening .Service in the monastery,

445. 461.

Evil has no power over the unwill-
i'>kS 353. 365; was not created,
354, 377; as equivalent to afflic-
tion, 354.

Excommunication in a monastery,
211.

Extremes meet, 316.

Faith, itself from God, 327; leads to
shun sin, 417; does not limit
divine grace, 433.

Fall, its moral results, 519 sq.

Fast, two days in the week, 218,
241, 242, 243; that of Easter
and Pentecost relaxed, 186, 212,
217, 507, 508 sq.; not on the
Saljbath (Saturday), 217, 317,
513; a canonical observance,
236, 512; may be relaxed by
authority, 242-3, 509, 51 1-2;
Easter fast announced by Festal
letters, 401; the Lenten fast,

513-
Fasting, not alike to all, 235, 317,
508 sq.; rules for, 236 sc]., 306,
316 s(}., 508 sq.; canonical ob-
servance, 236, 512; a spiritual
exercise, 241-2, 297, 508 sq.;
is sparing and voluntary, 243,
297. 317. 318, 508 sq.; only an
aid to perfection, 298 scj., 306,
316, 317, 508, 510, 512; when
harmful, 306, 316, 508, 510;
is not good in itself, 508, 509;
its value, 510 sq.; not to be
done in anger, 457; not always
done by the disciples, 510,

5"-

Faults, overcome by three thoughts,

416; their nature and cure, 435,
493; how cured even in solitude,

494-5-
Fear, an imperfect motive, 419; the

outcome of greatest love, 420;

leads to perfection, 421, 422.
Feeling, sudden changes of, 331; of

fear and hope, how imperfect,

419.
Feet- washing in the monastery, 225.
" Festal letters " announcing FJaster,

401, 402.
Filtanius, Bishop in Gaul, 192.
Flesh, used with different meanings,

333; its lust, 333 sq.; as affected

by freewill, 334 sq.; and spirit,

332 sq.
Fleury quoted, 184, 552.

JOHN CASSIAN.

Florentius, Bishop of Hippo Diar-

rhytus, 555.
Food, dried, 225, 226, 375; raw, 225,
226; abstinence from, 235 sq.,
To6, 316 sq.; canonical allow-
4 ance to monks, 318,491; monk-
ish feast described, 375, 491;
quantity used is made a measure
of time, 491.
Formication, 339 sq., 343, 345, 367,
% *424,449, 506; remedies for, 339
.. sq., 343, 344, 350; three sorts
•* of the sin, 344, 424; in thought,

494.
Francis de Sales quoted, 541,
FreewilL in relation to divine grace,

19*? 193. 325 sq., 3^5' 424. 426
sq.; the difficulty stated, 329,
426; as between Flesh and
Spirit, 334 sq., 365; given by
God as part of human nature,
428 sq.; not sufficient for salva-
tion, 434; its weakness, 427.

Freewill offerings, 513, 515.

Friendship, Conference upon, 450 sq.;
of different kinds, 450; how and
when indissoluble, 450-2; only
among the perfect, 451; some
cannot last, 460.

Frontinius, ascetic, retired to Nitria,
186.

Games, the Grecian, may teach spiri-
tual rules, 237-9.

Gehazi, an example of covetousness,
256, 257.

Gennadius quoted, 183, 184, 193,
194.

Germanus, friend and fellow-traveller
of Cassian, 184, 295, 300; spiri-
tual brother to Caesian, 185; in
monastery at Bethlehem, 184;
visited the Egyptian anchorites,
184-5; ordained at Constanti-
nople, 188; sent with Cassian to
Rome, 188; discusses Freewill
and Grace with Paphnutius,
325 sq.; Eight principal faults
with Serapion, 339 sq.; Incon-
stancy of mind and Spiritual
wickedness with Serenus, 361 sq.

Girdle, the mark of a monk, 201;
spiritually understood, 204-5.

Gladiator, as a Christian type, 345-6.

Gloria Patri used, 208, 209.

Gluttony, 317, 339 sq., 367; forl)id-
den to the monks, 234 sq.; rem-
edies for, 239 sq., 340 sq., 348,
350; of three kinds, 343; repre-
sented by the Egyjitians, 348;
how a daily debtor, 349, 350,367.

Goal, valual)le to have one fixed, 300;
that the soul cleave to God, 298;
goal and aim of life, 296 sq.; of
a monk discoursed upon, 187.

God, anthropologically spoken of,
258; His grace and help stated,
283 sq., 365, 423 sq.; contem-
plation of, how gained, 302; au-
thor and finisher of grace, 325
sq.; faith and virtues from Him,
327 sq., 331, 377. 423 sq., 445;

begins, continues, and ends,
32S-9 331, 365; why allows
temptations, 331-2, 430; our
desertion by, 332; not unjust or
careless, 352 sq.; a moral gov-
ernor, 351 sq.; did not create
evil, 354, 377; alone unchange-
able, 360, 5S2; alone incorpo-
real, 366; universal ruler for
good, 373, 385; made everything
perfect, 385; as "taken away
from me,'" 402; His help essen-
tial to us, 423 sq.; His daily
providence, 425, 433; His in-
scrutable providence, 433, 434,
445; as " born of a woman," de-
nied by Nestorius, 549, 560,
561, 568, 569; the Word of,
truly Incarnate, 553-4, 560-I,
568 sq., 604; not God but God-
head united to the manhood,
557. 583. 585 sq.; born in hu-
man form, 558, 561, 563, 569,
577, 582; being " pierced,"
said in prophecy, 558; name
given to Christ, '557 sq., 563-4,
577; as applied to men, 563;
to Him nothing impossible, 604;
as seen face to face, 610; cruci-
fied in the Lord of Glory, 569;
Son of, denied by the Jews,
579; yet true of Christ, 582.
Godhead, fulness of, in Christ, 583;
united to the manhood in Christ,

557. 583 sq.
Good, the highest unreached, 521
sq.; obtained from temptation,
542; " good things " discussed,

352 sq.

Goodness, human compared with the
divine, 521.

Gore quoted, 330.

Goulbourn quoted, 541.

Grace of God in our perfection, 192,
283 sq., 331, 423, 582; as al-
lowing for freewill, 325 sq.;
forsakes us for a time and pur-
pose, 332; how related to hea-
then virtues, 424; essential to us,
423 sq. ; precedes and follows
our goodwill, 427-8; never
against human effort, 430; gives
many calls, 432; transcends all
human faith, 423; supports
where law condemns, 505; con-
trasted with law, 505, 515 sq.,
527; frees saints from the law of
sin, 527, 529; gives easy for-
giveness, 527; its gift innate in
Christ as God, 560-1; as repre-
sented in Pelagianisni, 190 sq.

Gregory, Naz., Bishop of Constanti-
nople, 620; teaching on the In-
carnation, 619; quoted, 583.

Gregory, Bishop of Rome, quoted,
218, 258, 279, 483.

Gyrovagi, monks spoken of by S.
Benedict, 482, 483.

Hahn quoted, 592.
Hall quoted, 234.
Hammond (Lit.) quoted, 483.

Healing, gifts of, 445, 446.

Heathen virtues and God's grace,
424.

Hefele quoted, 556.

Helladius, Bishop, friend of Cassian,
189, 293, 387, 413, 477; see
unknown, 293; induced Cassian
to write his Conferences, 413,

Heresies, a list of, 551-2; propagate
each other, 552, 555, 580, 581,
599, 600; new condemned in
the old, 556; pervert the Scrip-
tures, 614, 616.

Hermas Pastor, 382.

Hermiani, 302.

Heron, aged anchorite, attempted
suicide, 310.

Hesycas, pupil of S. Jerome, intro-
duced monaslicism into Cyprus,
212.

Hezekiah, an example of vainglory,
277. _

Hilarian introduced monasticism into
Palestine, 212.

Hilary of Poictiers, 188, 617; con-
fessor for the faith and banished,
617; his teaching on the Incar-
nation, 617.

Hilary, layman, correspondent of
S. Augustine, 191, 192.

Hippolytus quoted, 4S8.

Holy Communion, when celebrated,
213.

Holy Ghost, called a creature by
Macedonius, 552; not in Christ
as in the saints, 582; how re-
lated to Christ's conception, 613;
does not prevent the agency of
the Son, 613-5.

Homo, its theological meaning, 554,
557. 598, 601, 602.

Homo dominicus, a term now disused,
383, 421, 602.

Honoratus, Bishop of Aries, 189, 190,
191, 413; received dedication of
seven Conferences from Cassian,

477-

Honorius of Autun, 183.

Hood of the Egyptian monk, 202.

Hooker quoted, 209, 575, 577.

Hope, an imperfect motive, 419.

Hort quoted, 592.

Hours of prayer, authorities for, 214;
the third, 205, 212, 213, 214;
the sixth, 205, 213, 214; the
ninth, 205, 213, 214; daily, 205,
212 sq.; the seven canonical,
214, 215.

Humanitarianismof El)ion, 551, 552;
of Nestorianism, 580-1, 608-9.

Humility, among the monks, 225 sq.,
229, 331; its signs, 232, 497; a
cure for pride, 279, 282, 287,
290, 331, 457; mock humility,
484; true humility, 484, 497~8.

Hydra, the tale, 551; a symbol of
heresy, 551.

Hypostasis, its theological use, 576.

Hypostatic union in Christ, 575, 576,
602.

Idleness full of danger, 273, 536.

INDEX OF SUHJi:CTS.

6; I

Image of God restored in Christ, 607,
608.

Impossihle commnruls, if given to a
monk. 221, 227.

Impossibilities not to bo mentioned re-
garding God, 604, 606.

Impure cannot give or receive spiri-
tual knowledge, 442; may have
knowledge beyond the saints,
442, 443; has not true know-
ledge, 443.

Incarnation, the, Cassian's writings
upon, 549 sq. ; statement of,
555 sq., 564, 568 sq., 573 sq.,
577 sq.: S. John's teaching
upon, 5S4; the mystery implies
the Divinity, 588, 606; no ques-
tion of time, 604, 606; no ques-
tion of possibility or impossi-
bility, 604, 606; confessed by
Martha, Peter, and Thomas,
569 sq. ; testimonies in the
church, 617 sq.

Inconsistency of mind and spiritual
wickedness, 187, 361 sq.

Indifferent things, what, 352 sq.

Indulgences to monks, 218, 242.

Inferiors may see a truth and offer a
good suggestion, 454.

Intention qualifies an action, 463.

Intercession, what, 391.

Irenaeus quoted, 488, 515.

Isaac, Eg}-ptian abbot, 187, 387; dis-
ciple of S. Antony, 3S7; his
two Conferences on prayer, 387
sq., 401 sq.

Isidore of Seville, his rule, 215, 220,
221.

Isidore, presbyter in Egypt, 486, 487.

Israel, interpretation of the word,
293> 350. 609.

Jacob, deceiver yet given the blessing,
463; wrestled with God, 609.

Jerome, his dates, 184; at Bethlehem
monastery, 184; writer and trans-
lator, 200; visited the Egyptian
monks, 186; much respected by
Cassian, 184; teaches the Incar-
nation, 618; quoted, 212, 218,
221, 222, 226, 243, 258, 274,

304. 339. 468, 4S1, 544> 574.
604, 609.

Joash, an example of pride, 286.

Job, his victory, 356; Job's patience
no benefit to the devil, 355.

John, abbot of Thmuis, 436, 437.

John Chrysostom, Bishop of Con-
stantinople, came from Antioch,
620; teacher of the Incarnation,
619,620; ordained Cassian, 184,
188; quoted, 184.

John, Egj'ptian abbot, of; great hu-
mility, 185, 243, 246,' 247, 437,
489, 490, 496; became a Cceno-
bite for austerity, 185, 490; dis-
coursed upon the aim of the
ccenobite and hermit, 185, 489
sq.; had charge of the alms,

503.
John of Lycopolis, 188, 226, 306,

545-

I John iv. 2, 3, criticism upon, 5S7.

Joseph, anchorite in Egypt, 1S4, 1S5,
416, 440, 450; receivi(l Cas-
sian nnd Gcrnianus, 1S4, 416,
450 ; had l)een primarius of
Thmuis, 185, 450 ; could speak
in Greek, 450 ; first Conference
on P'ricndshiji, 450 sq.; second
Conference on making promises,
460 sq.

Jovinianus, a holy brother, friend of
Cassian, 477.

Judas, an example of covetousness,
255, 256, 257, 472 ; had no
merit in our salvation, 335, 463,
472.

Julius Africanus t]uoted, 383.

Justin Martyr (juoted, 230.

Juvenal quoted, 544.

Kindness, even to the idle and care-
less, 271; also to the erring,
272.

Kindred, should be far from monks,
534. 535' 539; should not pay
for monks' wants, 535, 536:
should be welcomed when visit-
ing, 540.

Ivnecling, when forbidden, 212, 507;
custom considered, 507.

Knowledge of the religious, practical
and contemplative, 435 sq.;
practical twofold, 435, 436, 438;
system of true knowledge, 439.

Labbe quoted, 553.

Labour, among the monks, 2IO sq.,
26Ssq.; joined with prayer, 211,
213, 268; prevents many faults,
271.

Laodicea, Council of, 213, 217.

Lateness, penance for, 216.

Lauds, service of, 215, 216.

Laziness, as found in a monastery,
273 sq.

Leisure, its temptations, 269, 273.

Lent, its fast, the tithe of the year,
513; very differently counted,
513, 514, 515; only a small
tithe, 515; was not in primitive
times, 515.

Leo, Bishop of Rome, friend of Cas-
sian, 188, 549; induced Cassian
to write on the Incarnation,
549; had been archdeacon, 190;
quoted, 554.

Leontius, Bishop, 189, 192, 293, 387,
592; had dedication of Cassian's
Conferences, 293, 413, 477.

Leontius, a " brother " at Marseilles,
189, 477.

Leporius of Treves, heretic, his his-
tory, 552, 553; propagated
Pelagianism, 190, 552, 553,
616; combined it with Nestori-
anism, 552, 616; was recovered
by S. Augustine, 552, 553, 554;
recanted his Pelagianism, 553
sq.; his letters of recantation,

552, 553. 554. 555-
Lerins, monastery, 1S8, 1S9; famous
in its scholars, 188.

Lessons ill Church, two or three,
206; how selected, 207.

Lies, to be (eared, 464, 465; admit
of casuistry, 465; .Scripture ex-
amples consitlered, 465-7; can
we be driven into them, 468;
examples of disscnd)ling and
hiding, 469, 470.

Life, U|irightness of, more than mira-
cles, 449.

Lightfoot quoted, 394.

Locust, illustrative of Christ's birth,
607.

Lord's Prayer and its Petitions, 393 .sq.

Love, to guide even in reproofs, 272;
the divine, will not entl, 299;
how to attain its height, 417,
452; protection against sin, 417.
418; perfects God's image and
likeness, 418, 452; perfected in
prayer for our enemies, 419,
452; the bond of true friend-
ship, 450 sq.; lost in disputes
and angry feelings, 452-3; is
God, 454; of different grades,

.454-
Lucifer, turned from archangel to

devil, 280-1.
Lucius, Arian, Bishop of Alexandria,

483-

Lumby quoted, 597.

Lust of the flesh and of the spirit dis-
coursed upon, 187.

Macarius.

248.
Macarius

436;

abbot, his advice to monks.

of Alexandria, 248, 372,
was over the guest-house,
master in perfection, 453.

Macarius of Upper Egypt, 248, 345,
446; story about, 537.

Macarius, priest of Cellx, 352.

Macedonians, 551.

Machetes, anchorite, 243 sq.; his
counsels, 244.

Mafor, the monk's cape, 203.

Magical arts, 382, 384.

Man, his aim and perfect bliss, 404:
made immortal, 425; was proved
by temptations, 430 sq. ; strength
of will tested, 430; called by
grace, 432; goodness not good
like God's, 521, 582; his moral
inability, 519 sq., 553; under
the law of sin, 525 sq., 552,
553; not man, but manhood,
united to Godhead, 557.

Manhood and Godhead in Christ,
557' 583 sq.; Christ's shown in
the New Testament, 584 sq.

Mansi quoted, 592.

Manichees and their teaching, 583,
584, 588.

Marcellus oi Ancyra, master of Pho-
tinus, 552.

Marcionites, errors on the Incarna-
tion, 584.

Marinus, Bishop in Gaul, 192.

Mark, first Bishop of Alexandria, 206.

Marriage v. spiritual perfection, 505-
7; its teaching upon the Incar-
nation, 5S8-9.

6X2

JOHN CASSIAN.

Marseilles, its monasteries, 189.

Martha, her case and Mary's, 298;
her confession, 569.

Martin, Bishop of Tours, liis influence
on monasticism, 189.

Martyr-relics, 351, 352.

Mary, Ever-Virgin, 554, 556, 617,
618; truly Theotocos, 556, 557,
559, 560, 561, 562, 563, 570,
581, 5S3, 595, 596, 597, 604,
605, 606, 611, 612, 618, 620;
not merely Christotocos, 556,
570, 581, 596, 620; strengthened
to become Theotocos, 556, 581,
604, 606; her part in the Con-
ception of Christ, 557, 562, 572,
598, 604, 606, 611, 612, 617;
bore her Creator, 574; had a
Son Eternal, 573 sq., 604, 605,
606; had a son greater than her-
self, 574; was of the same sub-
stance with Christ, 605, 606,
607.

Massilians, 191.

Mats, for sleeping and writing on in
the cells, 222, 307, 445, 461.

Mazices, a tribe met in the Thebaid,
310.

Meals, in fasting, 243.

Meditation on God, 301.

Melotes of a monk, 203.

Memorial and oblation for those at
rest, 310.

Memory should be filled with Scrip-
ture and good thoughts, 441.

Merits, where not allowed, 423.

Mind, concentrated in prayer, 386,
389, 408, 441, 530; in persever-
ance, 365, 388; its perfection,
363-4; wanders, 362 sq., 388,
389, 408 sq., 441, 530; question
of its remaining in one condi-
tion, 359, 362 sq.; even celes-
tial may change, 360.

Minervius, a " brother " at Mar-
seilles, 189, 477.

Mines, common penalty for confes-
sors, 483.

Miracle of the loaves and fishes, 591,
605; not explained how, 591;
mystically interpreted, 591.

Miraculous powers, 445, 446, 447,
591; not from human merits,
447; less than moral upright-
ness, 449.

Missa, use of word shown, 208, 210,
216, 218, 278.

Monastery, the Egyptian, described,
187; adapted to conditions, 204;
practice of psalm-singing, 205
sq.; honours and precedences
within, 205 sq. ; duties within,
210 sq., 251 ; how different from
a Ccenobium, 483.

Monasticism, organised in Lower
Egypt, 186,413; how developed
in Gaul, 188, 189, 199, 413;
Western owed much to Cassian,
189, 199, 201 sq. ; how de-
veloped in the East, 212 sq.;
its institutes, 201, 205 sq.; its
austerity and strictness, 205 sq..

216, 217; introduced into Pales-
tine and Cyprus, 212.

Money-changers, their duties, 304
sq., 311.

Monks, of three kinds in Egypt, 185,
479 sq.; perhaps a fourth, 482-
3; in the Egyptian deserts, 185,
186, 206, 480; as seen when
lately visited, 186, 242; their
robe, 202, 222; their girdle,
201, 204; not usually wearing
sackcloth, 202; their hood,
tunic, 202; their scapular, 205;
their cords, cape, sheepskin,
goatskin, staff, 203; their bed.
222, 307, 461; no shoes but
sandals, 204; their food, 222,
224, 242, 316, 317, 318, 343;
their meals, 218, 222, 224, 242,
312, 318, 343, 375, 422, 489,
491; their wardrol)e, 222; their
cells, 210, 222, 243, 245, 27S,
307, 339> 360, 416, 480, 497,
533, 535; how best trained,
206, 221, 268 sq., 480; trained
by work, 227, 232, 268 sq., 484,
489; trained in obedience, 206,
221, 222, 278, 288; their duties,
251. 343. 489; indulged on
Saturday, Sunday, and holidays,

218, 375, 491; their absolute
renunciation, 219 sq., 248 sq.,

343' 535'' '^'^'^ ^^^ endow the
monastery with their money,

219, 220; clothed and fed by
the monastery, 220, 222, 491,
535; might be dismissed, 220;
served a noviciate, 220; con-
fessed to a senior, 221, 286, 313,
314; had no property, 219, 222,
251, 255-7, 297' 338' 339, 535.
543; their inconsistencies, 223,
250, 251, 262, 287, 343 sq.,

455, 456, 457> 484. 493. 533;
their penances, 211, 216, 223;
readings at meals, 218, 224,
225; weekly share of duties,
224; their fasting, 234 sq., 316
sq., 489, 507 sq. ; celebration
of anniversary, 489; not to
judge others, 244, 268, 269;
their pessimistic murmurs, 250,
343; sowing discontent, 251,
273; combat dejection, 264 sq.,
540; uproot anger, 257 sq. ; aim
at perfect calmness, 259, 297,
298, 484, 489; also at patience
in the heart, 262, 484, 49S;
some temptations are wanting
in solitude, 262; must guard
against Accidie, 266 sc]., 540;
escape from the monastery, 273;
combat pride and vainglory,
275 sq., 280 sq., 484, 491, 497;
avoid women and bishops, 279,
371,401; how they deteriorate,
287, 288, 310, 484, 532; their
aim and end, 295 sq., 307 sq.;
aim at purity of heart, 296; and
at discretion, 307 sq. ; have three
vocations, 320 sq.; must avoid
gluttony, 343, 348, 349, 491;

how affected by eight faults,
339 sq., 348; are best as ambi-
dextrous, 356 sq.; should re-
main in their cells, 360, 535;
instant in prayer, 387 sq., 398;
teach the younger by example,
416, 479; should have patience
with a brother, 455, 456; silence
not patience, 456; fast spoiled
by anger, 457; gain by relaxa-
tion, 540; the work best suited
for monks and solitaries, 533;
hindered by kindred, 534, 535,
536, 540; how they began to
retire from the world, 480-1;
fell into heresy on the Godhead,
187; their spiritual adoption and
union, 543-4.

Montalembert quoted, 1S8.

Moral questions and difficulties dis-
cussed, 351 sq., 460 sq., 468-9,
519 sq.; on the divine govern-
ment, 352-3; on blame and
merit, 354; on moral weakness,
519, 520, 525 sq., 529.

" More blessed to give than to re-
ceive," 273.

Mortification, discoursed upon, 186.

Moses, abbot in Calamus desert,

321.
Moses, abbot in Nitrian Valley, 1S7,
275; gave Cassian and Ger-
manus two discourses, 187, 275;
abbot at Scete, 293, 295; ex-
posed to temptation, 372; mas-
ter in perfection, 493; first Con-
ference, on The goal and aim of
a rnonk, 295 sq.; second Confer-
ence, on The grace of discretion,
307 sq.

Narbonne, third Council of, 209.

Natural impulses usefid, yet may be
sinful, 249.

Natural knowledge of the law, 384-5.

Natures in Christ, two and perfect,
554; not one substance, 554.

Nesteros, anchorite and abl)ot in
Egypt, 184, 416, 435; received
Cassian and Germanus, 185, 416,
435; gave them two discourses,
185; first Conference, on Spirit-
ual Knowledge, 435 sq.; second
Conference, on Divine Gifts, 445

Nestorianism, its origin, 190, 549,

551, 556, 580; its heresy, 190,

552, 553. 556, 561, 580, 581,
608 sq.; connected with I'elagi-
anism, 190, 551, 552, 553, 55^5,
580 sq., 616; caused more ac-
curate statements in theology,
399; refused to B. V. M. the title
Theotocos, 556 sq., 580, 5S1;
approached in Cassian's lan-
guage, 564; was humanitarian-
ism, 580, 581, 60S-9; allowed
to Christ divinity through His
merits, 553 sq., 561 sq., -580;
called Christ Theodochos 581,
608; its blasphemy, 610.

Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople,

INDEX OF SUBJFXTS.

63.

190. 549. 556, 592, 594; written
against by Cassian, 183, 188,
189, 190, 195, 399, 549 sq.,
592 sq., 60S-21; had bcloni^L'tl
to Eiiprcpius' monastery at An-
tioch, 592; fell away from the
truth, 593 sq.; belonged to An-
tioch, 594, 620; presuming to
be bishop, priest, and Xleacon,
yet a heretic, 596, 597, 600,
620; taught two Christs, 59S-9;
erred regarding the Trinity, 599;
summary of his teaching, 619-21 ;
denounced by Cassian for im-
piety and heresy, 603 sq., 620-1.

Niccea, council of, 507; canons
moulded the creeds, 592.

Nicholas, one of the deacons, author
of heresy, 487, 488.

Nicolaitans, their origin doubtful,
48S.

Nile in Egypt, frequented by the
monks, 185,246,416; its floods,

447-
Nitrian valley and its monasteries,

186, 352.
Noah, transmitter of knowledge, 384.
Nocturnal illusions discoursed upon,

186.
NoctVirns, 205, 206, 215, 216.
Nones, 205, 212 sq.

Oath, often rash, 462, 470.

Obedience and subjection, required
from the ccenobite, 185; to an-
cient and approved 'customs,
202; absolute, learned by the
young monks, 221, 222, 225,
338; to what perfection, 222,
225 sq., 24S; even to God may
be fruitless, 657.

Offices at hours of prayer, 214.

Oil, the form of blessing, 244; blessed
by contact with the corpse, 372;
plain, used at the anchorite
meals, 375, 491, 492.

Only Begotten was incarnate, 554-

Orange, council of, 193.

Ordination to the priesthood, 330.

Origen, quoted, 230, 304, 382.

Pachomius, rule of, 218, 219, 220,

222, 223, 224, 225, 307.
Psesius, anchorite in Egypt, 243.
Paget, quoted, 234.
Pailadius visited the Egyptian monks,

186, 226, 243, 246, 275, 314,
319. 339- 387, 416, 479, 503.

Panephysis, Egyptian city, 229, 371,
415,416. 497.

Papa, the word how used, 199, 293.

Paphnutius, surnamed "the Buffalo,"
Egyptian abbot, 187, 247, 310,
319 sq., 449, 486; his austerity,

187, 486; receives Cassian and
Germanus, 187; reformed his
monastery, 187; was of Scete,
319, 402, 486; several bearing
the name, 319; presbyter, 330.
402, 486; promoted Daniel to
the priesthood, 330; received
and read the Festal Letters,

402; fought openly with demons,
449; adnnred in youth for good-
ness and grace, 486, 4S7; mas-
ter in perfection, 493; how
accused of theft, 486-7; was he
bishop or presbyter, 330.

Paralysis, case of, 372.

Patermucius, abbot, 227, 228.

Patriarchs, the, desired to see Christ
and His Day, 589, 590.

Patience assumes different evil forms,
455 sq.; strong in yielding,
458; how to be gained, 484; ex-
amples of, 485, 487, 489.

Paul, the Apostle, as a Christian ath-
lete, 239, 240; advises against
Accidie, 268, 269, 270; taught
by example and words, 270;
was trained in his call, 316; the
form of his purification, 468; his
apostolic work, 559, 567; teach-
ing of his call, 365; preached
the cross, 567.

Paul, Egyptian al)bot, 185, 274, 275,
371, 489; had a large monastery,
185; his work annually l)urned
by himself, 274-5; originator of
Anchoritism, 481.

Paul of Samosata, 592.

Pearson quoted, 556.

Pelagianism, connected with Nes-
torianism, 190, 552, 555, 580
sq.; its history, igo, 551 sq.;
its aim in lowering Christ, 581.

Pelagians, 285.

Pelagius, his impiety, 581; taught
two Christs and was humanita-
rian, 598, 616.

Penance, monastic, 211, 216, 223,
486, 502.

Penitence, blessed to David and to
the thief, 283; its aim, 497 sq.;
its modes, 498; its fruits, 499 sq.

Pentecost, the term how used, 207.

Pera of a monk, 203.

Perfect bliss aimed at, 404.

Perfection, discoursed upon, 185,
232, 234, 295 sq.; in and by
God, 283, 284, 287, 290, 346,
423, 525; its teachers, 284;
what are only aids to, 298, 525;
how to be reached, 234 sq., 259
sq., 262, 265, 279, 283, 287,
290, 296, 308, 313, 319, 322,
345 sq., 351, 404, 417, 436,
493> 499 sq, 502, 525; in con-
stant jirayer, 387; what aimed
at, 404, 420, 493, 502, 524; in
love, 417; of different kinds,
420; in the work and line begun,
436, 493; an example in one
case, 437; picture of, in acts
of daily life, 437; in teaching
Scri]iture and doctrine, 444; in
yielding more than in mastering,
458; in patience, an example,
487; in only one direction at
once, 493; by forgetfulness of
sin, 501 ; needs more grace,
525; through humility, 525.

Peter, the Apostle, at Rome with
Simon Magus, 218; his testi-

mony to the Incarnation, 569;
confesses the faith of Christ, 570.

Petitions in the Lord's Prayer ex-
plaine.l, 393 sq.

Phantasm, charged of Christ, 5S3,
584, 590, 594.

Pianiun, abbot in Egypt, 188, 246,
469, 479; hid his abstinence,
469; his character and position,
479; C(jnference on three sorts
of niqnks, 479 sq.

Pinufius, Egyptian abbot and priest,
185, 228 sq., 496 sq.; his ex-
treme humility, 228 sq., 496-7;
fled to tile 'Ihebaid, then to
Palestine, 229, 497; conference
on the End of penitence and the
Marks of satisfaction, 496 sq.;
on renunciants, 229, 496; sketch
of his life, 496-7.

Pious frauds, 465, 466; attributed to
Apostles, 467, 468.

Plani, devils, 374.

Pliny quoted, 304.

I'oisons given in honey, 607, 608.

Possessed, those, with unclean spirits,
370 sq., 487; not to be despised,
372, 373; debarred from the
Holy Communion, 372; question
of their exclusion discussed,
373; cleansed, 487.

Poverty, monastic, 219 sq., 248 sq.
338 sq., 535 sq.

Prayer, discoursed upon, 187, 207
sq-. 331. 387 ^q-> 405; in prostra-
tion, 2c8, 507; collecting prayer,
20S, 484; canonical prayers,
208, 210, 400; conciseness and
silence in, 209, 210,400; mixed
with psalm-singing, 209, 408,
461; suspense from, as a pen-
ance, 2i i, 212; fixed time for,
in monastery, 212, 507; self-
collectedness in, 209, 331, 388,
405 sq., 408; the road to per-
fection, 387 sq., 405 sq.; pure
and sincere, 38S, 405 sq.;
strictly in private, 400: different
characters of, 390; fourfold
nature of, 391-2; method of con-
tinual, 405 sq.; with standing at
certain seasons, 507; daily and
at fixed hours, 214, 422, 437,
445; as being heard, 398 sq.;
conditions of an answer, 398 sq.,
405; proper kinds* 392, 405; to
God alone, 391. 405 sq.

Predestination and Freewill, 190-1.

Pride, combated by a monk, 275 sq.,
280 sq., 339; its forms many, 275
sq., 280 sq., 287; solitude no
protection, 276; destructive to
virtues, 280 sq., 290: as in Luci-
fer, 281; destroyed by humility,
282 sq., 287, 290, 350; exam-
ples. 286, 289; carnal, 287, 289;
spiritual, 287, 342; its fruits,
288 sq.; remedies against, 290,
342; Satanic suggestion, 374.

Priesthood and diaconate, 278, 286,
293, 330; their dignity sacrificed
by Nestorius, 594-7, 600.

634

JOHN CASSIAN.

T'roculus, Bishop of Marseilles, 552.

Property in monastery is common,
202, 205.

Prophets, as witnesses for Christ,
557 sq., 57S-9, 583> 589; tie-
siring to see Christ and His day,

589.
Prosper of Aquitaine quoted, 184,

474-
Protection by God, discoursed upon,

185.

Psalms, sung by the monks, 205, 225,
408, 409; fixed at twelve, 206,
207, 210; the order, 205 sq. ; by
the priest alone chanting, 209;
sung in sections, 209, 210; divi-
ded by prayers, 209,408; modes
of singing, 217; arrangements
at Lauds, Prime, and Matins, 216,
217.

Ptolem)' quoted, 436.

Purity of heart aimed at, 296 sq., 340,
346,361 sq. ; the measure of our
heavenly vision, 403.

Quadragesima, 513, 514.

Quinquagesima from Easter to Pente-
cost, 212, 447, 503; relaxation
during the season, 503 sq.

Rahab's action at Jericho, 465.

Rav.-linson quoted, 436.

Recantation of Leporius, 552-3.

Relaxation, useful to a monk, 540;
at Quinquagesima season, 503 sq.

Relics of Martyrs, 251, 252.

Remoboth, monks mentioned by S.
Jerome, 482.

Renunciants of Tabenna, 219 sq.;
their discipline, 219 sq., 469;
their novitiate, 220, 231.

Renunciation, discoursed upon, 187,
206, 230 sq., 248 sq., 532 sq.;
by the monks, 206, 219 sq., 248
sq., 256, 338; must be complete,
219 sq., 251, 252, 253, 256,
287, 297, 322, 338, 342, 439,
505, 532; by the apostles and
primitive church, 253 sq., 486;
only an aid to perfection, 298,
322, 439; threefold, 320, 321,
338; Scripture examples, 322-3,
505; by the Coenobites, 480; its
recompense, 543, 544, 545; of
the soul's possession of sins,

323-4- •

Repentance, 266.

Resurrection, a birth and regenera-
tion, 585; His "abinferis" not
to be denied, 600, 603.

Revelations, satanic and false, 310,

311-

Riches. of different kinds, 324; their
renunciation, 324 sq.

Righteousness, divine and human,
521 sq.

Robe of a monlc, 202.

Rope dancers, 524.

Rufinus teaches the Incarnation, 618;
quoted, 186, 226, 243, 246, 248,
314, 319. 339. 446, 479i 486,
503, 55i> 578, 592, 607.

Rule, the Catholic, 202; monastic, to
be adapted to cases, 204.

Sabbath (Saturday), exempted from
fasting, 212, 217, 218, 513; a
feast with Sunday, 217, 513; at
Rome a fast, 218.

Sabbatier quoted, 202, 258.

Sabellianism, form of, taught by Pho-
tinus, 552; the heresy, 593.

Sabellians, 551.

Sackcloth not a monk's robe, 202.

.Sacrament (mysterium), 303.

Sacramentum explained, 204, 214,

574-

Saints, how far different from Christ,
582, 587, 590, 594.

Salt-fish used by the monks, 226.

.Sandals of a monk, 204.

Sarabaites, an order of monks, 185,
480; " detested and execrable,"
482; painted by Cassian in dark-
est colours, 4S0; broke off from
the Ccenobites, 4S2.

Saraceni, their slaughter of monks,
187, 351 sq.

Satan, the devil, tempter of the
monks, 210, 304 sq., 312 sq.,
331, 365; perverting Scripture,

305, 306, 612; appeared, 306,
310. 311; cast out of a monk,
312-3; a fallen spirit, 335, 377
sq.; forced to acknowledge
Christ's divinity, 610-2; feared
Christ, 614; his motive for tempt-
ing Christ, 610 sq.; tried to
defeat human redemption, 61 1,
612.

Satisfaction for sin, and pardon,

496 sq.
Saturday and Sunday services, 213,

.3i9>5i3-
Saviour, a title belonging to Christ,

580.

.Scapular of the monks, 205.

Scete, in the Egyptian desert, 185,
186, 27S, 293, 294, 319, 330,
352, 416, 533; date of Cassian's
visit uncertain, 186, 187, 188.

Scripture, how read by the monks,
206, 207; its senses, 260, 377,
437, 440; perverted for a pur-
pose, 273, 329, 464, 611, 616;
misunderstood and misapplied,

306, 310, 329, 354, 443, 444,
611; its variety, 376, 440, 464
sq.; its true knowledge, how to
be attained, 438, 439, 443, 464;
manifold meanings, 440, 611;
meaning hid from the ungodly
mind, 443, 444, 464; its econ-
omy, 464 sq.; used as a cloak to
heresy, 60S; its testimony to
truth of doctrine, 569 sq.; fear
of perversion does not close
Scripture, 464 sq.

Scythia, named as Cassian's birth-
place, 183.
Secundinus, Bishop of Megarmita,

555:

Seluciani, 302.

Semi-Pelagianism, 190, 191, 193,

283, 422; in Cassian's writings,
190 sq., 422 sq.

Serapion, Egyptian ascetic, 187, 339,
484; discoursed with Cassian
and Germanus, 1S7, 339 sq.;
was educated under Abbot The-
onas, 312, 339; his anecdote
about himself, 312, 4S4; became
anfhropomorphite, 402; several
of the same name, 339.

Serapion of Arsinoe, abbot of icoo
monks, 339.

Serenus, Egyptian abbot, 187, 375;
discoursed to Cassian and Ger-
manus, 187, 361 sq., 375 sq.;
first Conference, on Inconstancy
of Mind and Spiritual wicked-
ness, 361 sq.; second Confer-
ence, on Principalities, 375 sq.

Seth and his seed as God's elect, 383
sq.; had knowledge from Adam,
383,384; naturally had complete
knowledge of the law, 384.

Sickness cured, 445, 446.

Silence, general, at meals, 224; at
psalm-singing, 209; in the cells,
460.

Simeon, expert copyist, friend of
Cassian, 247.

Sin, its nature, 524 sq.; as a present
power, 517, 518, 522, 523 sq.,
552; present in the best, 523,
527, 530; the body of, 528;
present even in prayer, 530;
brought on man by the Fall,
525-6; in Adam's transgression
our heritage, 525 sq.; grace frees
from the law of sin, 528; sin as
a natural law, 527; law of sin
is obedience to it, 528; if man
can be sinless, 552.

Sins, different kinds of, 252, 347;
corresponding to the Seven Na-
tions of Palestine, 347; cr to
Eight, 348; or to Ten, 349;
blind the eyes to sinfulness,
523; how to be shunned and
overcome, 417-8; how forgiven,
496 sq.; worse than devils, 371.

Sitting at psalm-singing in Egypt,
207, 210; an indulgence in the
West, 216; silting in their order
at meals, 224.

Sixtus, Roman priest, friend of S.
Augustine, 190.

.Slanders by the heretics, 603 sq.

Smith and Cheetham, D. C. A., 194,
203, 208, 217, 241, 401, 482,

503. 515-
Smith and Wace, D. C. B., 183, 186,

387, 552.
Socrates, story about, 424.
Socrates (Hist.) quoted, 217, 248,

486, 556, 620.
Sodom sinned in fulness of bread,

235-

Solitude, excludes some temptations,

262, 493 sq. ; cannot have others,
262; has its own, 262, 362, 493
sq->,533. 539. 540; no protection
against pride, 276, 277; resorted
to by the monks, 262, 319, 362,

INDEX OF SUBJF.CTS.

635

404, 491, 493, 533, 539, 540;
its advantages, 491, 493, 533;
can sliow faults to tlic monk
himself, 494.
•' Sons of God " as the seed of Seth,

383-

Soul, its aim and perfect bliss, 404;
subject to the law and body of
sin, 523 sq.; its powers three-
fold, 53S-9 ; how to be healetl of
its faults, 53S; how weighed
down, 33S, 523 sq.; how re-
lated to evil spirits, 366 sq., 382,
3S8; how tempted, 53S; not
incorporeal, 367; its threefold
condition, 336 sq.; ideas regard-
ing, 302, 366, 382.

Sozomen quoted, 186, 202, 207, 219,
220, 226, 248, 274, 275, 352,
_ 401, 446, 479,486, 513.

Spiritual persons in dispute, 453.

Spiritual wickedness, its malignity,
335; knowledge neither received
nor given by the unclean, 437,
442; teaching often unfruitful,

445-

Staff of monks, 203.

Stations, 241, 243.

Strangers, entertained, 219, 220, 229,
242, 243, 245, 246, 27S, 295,
310, 375, 415, 416, 422, 450,
461, 479, 4S5, 489, 491, 497.

Substance true of God and man, 556
sq., 577 sq., 606-7.

Suicides, 310.

Sun of Righteousness, 260.

Sunday, a feast, 212, 217, 218; its
services, 218, 486; its observ-
ance, 375; for Holy Commun-
ion, 486.

Supersubstantial bread, 394.

Supplications of four kinds, 391,

393-

Symbole, a collection, 592.

Symboli, traditio, explained, 597.
Symbolum, a creed or watchword,

592.
Synaxis, 209.
Syncletius spoiled and not made a

monk, 254.
Synecdoche, a common figure, 602,

603.

Tabenna, its position and monastery,
219, 497; its discipline, 219.

Talking gossip forbidden to the
monks, 209, 21 1, 224, 269.

Tatham quoted, 1S6.

Tears, their value in bringing convic-
tion, 397.

Temptation of Christ by Satan, 340
sq., 610.

TertuUian quoted, 225, 346, 440,

468, 5151 551, 587-
Testaments, why called instruments,

440.
Tests of obedience, 222, 225, 226,

227, 22S, 230, 430, 484, 485,
541; of renunciation, 206, 219
s<i., 227, 228, 230, 541.

Thanksgiving, 392.

Tiiebaid, 415.

Tiiennesus, town described, 415.

Theodochos, Nestorian title for
Christ, 581, 582, 608, 609.

Theodore, abbot of Tabenna and
friend of Pachoniius, 245.

Theodore, abl)ot in Kgypt, 187, 351,
352; at Cellie, 352; consulted
on a point of the divine govern-
ment, 351 sq.

Theodore, Abbot, 245, 351.

Theodore, " brother " at Marseilles,
189, 477-

Theodoret epinted, 226, 401, 488.

Theodoret, abbot in Egypt, 185, 312,
503; visited by Cassian and
Germanus, 185; had been mar-
ried, 185, 503; left his wife for
the desert, 506-7; chosen abbot
of the monastery, 507 : first Con-
ference, on The Relaxation dur-
ing the Fifty Days, 503 sq.;
third Conference, on Sinlessness,
519 sq.

Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria,
his Festal Letters, 187, 188, 401 ;
succeeded Timothy, 401.

Theophylact quoted, 302.

Theotocos, inveighed against, 190,
556, 581; how different from
Christotocos, and true of B. V.
M., 119, 556, 557, 559, 560,
570, 581, 618, 620.

Therapeutse, 186.

Thomas, Apostle, his confession, 571.

Thomas Aquinas quoted, 234, 373,

554-
Thoughts, changeable, 303, 362, 3S7
sq., 408, 441, 534; can be di-
rected, 303 sq., 365, 388 sq.,
405 sq.; their origin, 304, 362
sq., 390, 441 ; care of, 363,
365, 389, 408, 409, 534; why
so vanishing, 390, 408, 409,

534-

"Three days" counted by Synec-
doche, 603.

Tierce service, 205, 212 sq., 218.

Tilleraont quoted, 553.

Time no question in the Incarnation,
603, 606.

Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria, 401.

Tithes, given to a monastery, 503 sq.,
506; their law considered, 503
sq., 513, 517; Christian as well
as Jewish, 504, 505, 506, 516,
517. — Lent a tithe of time,

513-
Traditio symboli, 597.

Trinity, Holy, errors upon, Vjy Ebion,

551; by Eunomius, 552; by

Arius, 551; by Macedonius,

552; by Photinus, 552; by Nes-

torius, 599; present in the Con-
ception, 557, 613; present in
every work of ("liri.st, 613 sf|.;
its unity denied by .Macedonius,

552.

Irutli, must it always lie told, 464
sq., 468-9; gains by thorough
ventilation, 555; has fixed au-
thority and use, 555.

Tunic of the monk, 203.

Two hearts in one Ixjdy, 295.

Uzziah, an example of vainglory,
277.

Vainglory, to l)e combated, 275 sq.,
306, 339, 346; carnal and spiri-
tual. 275, 342, 351; assumes
many forms, 275, 278, 344;
dangerous when mixed with vir-
tue, 277, 351; exam])ks in Scrip-
ture, 277, 346; examples in
monks, 277; remedies for, 279,
306, 342, 346; of two main
kinds, 344; none in miraculous
powers, 446 sq.; none in using
oil at meals, 375, 491.

Venerius, Bishop of Marseilles, 192.

Vespers service, 214.

Vices, their range and results, 280.

Victor, Bishop of Martyrites, 194.

Vigilia, its office, 216, 217; its indul-
ge-ncc, 217.

Vigils to festivals, 217; sleepless,
460.

Vincentius Lirinensis quoted, 556.

Virgil quoted, 607.

Vocations, three to a monk, 320 sq.,
328; Scripture examples, 320.

Washing the monks' feet, 225.

Wednesday and Friday fasts, 241,
242.

Weekly share of duty, 224, 225; of-
ficers or Hebdomadarii, 225.

West, few monasteries in, and why,
274.

Westcott quoted, 304, 587.

Why does God allow the just to suf-
fer, 352.

Widows, 584, 585.

Wife forsaken for greater austerity,
506,

Wine from water in Galilee, 605.

Women, avoided by monks, 251,
279, 371; invaluable as nurses,

372, 485-
Word of God truly Incarnate, 554.
Works means of l>lessing, 268 sq.;

necessary to a monk, 536.
World, three kinds of things in,

352 sq.

Yoke of Christ, how easy and light,
541, 542, 543.

Zeal in serving and in labour, 225.

6.^.6

JOHN CASSIAN.

INDEX OF TEXTS.

PAGE

Gen. i. 26 . . .402, 403

Numb. XV. 32 .

• • 359

2 Kings XX. 1-6 . . 471

Ps. xxiv. 4 . .

. 326

i. 28 . . .

. 466

xviii. 26 .

• . 503

2 Chr. iii. 5

304

xxiv. 5

• 326

i- 31 • • 377. 521

xxiv. .

• • 539

vi. 30 . .

367

xxiv. 18 . 499, 500

ii. 18 . . .

• 507

Deut. iv. 26 .

• • 505

XXIV. 17, 18

. 286

XXV. 2. . 358,495

iii. I . . .

• 379

vi. 4 . .

385. 435

xxiv, 23-25

286

XXV. 8 . . .

• 534

iii. 5 . 341, 342, 386

vi. 4, 5 .

• . 376

xxvi. 15, 16

. 278

XXX. 10 .

• 257.

iii. IS . . 23

I. 2S5

vi. 7 . .

• • 407

xxxii. 24-26

277

xxxi. 5 499 (bis) 500

iii. 17, 19. .

• 525

vii. 1-3 .

329. 347

Esth. vi. I, sq.

. 304

xxxi. 6 .

• 499

iii. 22 . . .

. 428

vii. 21-23

. . 346

Job i. 9, 10

• 332

xxxi. 10 .

• 358

iv. 4 . . .

385

viii. 2 .

• • 357

i. 9-1 1

431

xxxii. S

• 512

iv. 7 • • •

• 512

viii. 3 .

• • 384

i. 21 .

357

xxxii. 9 .

• 555

iv. 17-21 . .

383

viii. 12-15

• • 346

ii. 6 .

366

xxxii. 15 .

• 367

V. 4-30 . .

383

ix. 4, S .

. . 346

ii. 10 .

357

xxxiii. 7 .

• 324

V. 22 . . .

385

xiii. 1-3 .

431. 446

iii. 23 .

354

xxxiii. 8 .

. 381

V. 24 . . .

322

xvi. 9 .

■ . 5"

V. 2

242

xxxiii. 9 . 52

8. 543

vi. 2 . . .

• 383

XX. 8 . .

. . 252

V. 7 .

365

xxxiii. 10. 41

9. 421

vi. 3 • • •

• 333

xxiii. 7

• 348

V. 18 .

315

xxxiii. II .

• 324

vii. 2 . . .

• 385

xxvii. 26 .

. 505

V. 23 .

. 26s

xxxiii. 14 .

. 427

viii. 21 . .

. 519

xxviii. 23 .

• • 423

X. 10, II

. 386

xxxiii. 19

• 357

ix. 23 . . .

. 385

xxxii. 7 .

. 316

XV. 14, 15

360

xxxiii. 23 .

• 416

xii. I . 320, 32

i> 325

xxxii. 12 .

• 584

XV. 15 .

524

xxxiii. 32 .

• 353

xiv. 20, 22 .

• 38s

xxxii. 17 .

• 457

xxiv. 21

516

xxxiv. 2-4

. 285

xiv. 22, 23 .

504

xxxii. 21 .

• 489

XXV. 5 .

524

xxxiv. 8 .

• 369

XV. 13. . .

601

xxxii. 24 .

. 358

xxviii. 15

304

xxxiv. 10 .

• 522

XV. 18-21

349

xxxii. 31 .

. 368

xxix. 15

356

xxxiv. 26

. 369

xviii. . . .

38s

xxxii. 32, 33

. 389

xxix. 17

522

XXXV. I, 2

. 281

xix.

385

Josh. v. 16 .

. 204

xxxi. 24

304

XXXV. 7 .

. 376

xix. 2, 3 .

470

vii. . .

• 305

xxxviii. 7

377

XXXV. 12 .

. 406

xxii. I

431

Judg. ii. 22

• 432

xxxix. 5-S

482

xxxvi. 16 .

• 537

xxii. 12 .

431

iii. I, 2 .

• 432

xl. 3 .

357

xxxvi. 23, 24

• 326

xxxii. 30 .

607

iii. 1-4

• 332

xl. 16 .

340

xxxvii. 6 .

• 324

xxxvii. 4 . 45

4,488

iii. 9 .

320, 578

Ps. i. 2 . .

422

xxxvii. 14, 15

232

xl. 7 . . .

461

iii. IS . .

356, 578

ii. II .

420

xxxvii. 19

. 499

xlii. 9, 16

470

I Sam. ii. 6, 7. .

• 315

iv. 5 .

.259, 260

xxxviii. 2, 3 .

• 233

xlii. 21 . .

470

ii. 9 . .

• 327

v. 7 .

. 464, 466

xxxviii. 13 .

322

xiv. 5-8 . .

428

11. 30 . .

• 540

v. 9 .

. . 426

xxxix. 2 .

430

1. 19, 20 . .

428

XV. . . .

• 309

vi. 2

. . 258

xxxix. 3 .

326

Exod. iii. 2 . . .

557

XV. II, 35 .

• 472

vi. 6 .

. . 301

xxxix. 9 .

399

iii. 5 • • •

204

xxi. I, 2, 8, I

3 • 465

vi. 7 . 3

97.

499. 500

xxxix. 15 (bis)

369

iii. 14 ... .

584

xxii. 7-10

. 468

vi. 9 .

.326, 500

xxxix. 17 .

407

iv. 13 , . .

572

xxiv. 7

. 466

vii. 1 7 .

• . 369

xii. 4 . . .

499

V. 2 ...

282

XXV. 22, 34 .

• 470

viii. 5 .

. 601

xlii. 9 . . .

36s

V. 8, 9 . .

515

2 Sam. V. I , ,

• 333

ix. 9 .

• . 369

xliii 4, 5 . .

285

vii. I . . .

561

xii. 13 .

283, 430

xi. 7 .

• 444

xliii. 6-8 . .

285

viii. 21

364

xiv. 14 . .

. 425

xii. 3 .

• 397

xliii. 22 . .

367

xvi. 3 . . .

323

xvi. 10-12

. 260

xii. 4 . 3

69,

397. 429

xliii. 23 .

258

XX. 4-17 . .

385

xvii. 14 ,

. 466

xii. 5 .

. 369

xliii. 25 . .

2S2

' XX. 14. . .

440

xvii. 20 ,

. 466

xiii. 4 . .

. 618

xliv. II . . .

321

xxi. 24 . .SO

4, 516

xxiii. 17 .

. 260

xiv. 5 .

• 444

xliv. 12 . . ,

324

xxii. 21, 27 .

398

I Kings iii. 24-27

• 470

XV. 10. .

. 214

xliv. 17 . . .

593

xxii. 29,

. iv. 29 .

199, 460

xvi. 4 . .

223. 541

xiv. 7 . . . .

581

505. 51

3. 516

vii. 13

. 199

xvi. 5 . .

326, 426

xlvi. 6 . . .

614

xxiii. 7 .

466

viii. 17-19 .

• 429

xvii. 2-4 .

. . 285

xlviii. 8 . . .

587

xxxii. 31, 32

394

viii. 58 . .

• 427

xvii. 20 sqq . . 285

xlix. 3 . 58

3, 607

xxxii. 31-33

472

xi. 2 . . .

. 384

xvii. 33 sq . . 285

xlix. 15 . . .

428

xxxiii. 13

587

xiii. 22

• 359

xvii. 35 . .

. 285

xlix. 16 . . .

443

xxxiii. 20 .

303

xiii. 26

• 371

xvii. 38, 39 .

• 369

xlix. 23 . . .

400

xxxiv. 16 .

384

XX.

• 309

xvii. 40, 41 .

• 285

1. 5 . . 49<

?. 500

Lev. xviii. 5 ,

504

XX. 31, 32, 4:

J • 539

xviii. II.

. 442

1. 6 ....

500

xviii. 7

38s

xxi. 21-24

• 359

xviii. 13 .

502, 529

1. 12, 9 . . .

427

xix. 17, 18 .

262

xxii. 22 .

xviii. 14 .

• 502

1. 19, 21 . . .

400

xix. 36

512

304,

374, 539

xxi. 2 .

• 393

Ii. 6-9 .. .

281

xxi. 12

440

2 Kings i. 1-8

. 201

xxi. II

•

. 581

Ii. 7 . . . .

468

Numb. V. 9, 10 .

503

iv. 29 . .

. 203

xxiii. 7

•

. 615

Hi. 6 . . . .

279

xi. 5 . . .

• 323

vi. 30 . .

. 202

xxiii. 35 .

•

. 536

liii. 6 . . . .

278

xi. 18 . . .

■ 323

XX.

• 277

xxiv. 1-3 .

•

369'

liii. 8 . . . .

213

INDEX OF TEXTS.

^Z7

PACB

PA<-.B

PAliB

I'AOF.

Ps. liv. 13-15 . . 457

Ps. cviii. 6

. . . 382

Prov. iv. 26 .

. . 426

Prov. xxiv. 16

. 502

liv. 22

• • 456

cviii. 24

500

iv. 27 . .

. . 276

xxiv. 17, 18

• • 346

Iviii. 1 1 .

426, 429

cix. 5, 6

397

v. 15, 16 .

. . 442

xxv. 8 . .

• • 459

Ix. 2 . .

. . 234

ex. 10 .

421

V. 22 . .

XXV. 14 .

. . 448

Ixi. 5 . .

. . 204

cxi. 2, 3

324

499.

525, 642

xxv. 20 .

. . 264

Ixi. 10

. . 512

cxi. 10

233

viii. 13

. 416

XXV. 28 ,

• • 309

Ixii. 2, 7 .

. . 214

cxiii. 17,

18 '.

301

ix. I . .

. . 611

xxvi. II .

. . 460

Ixii. 9 . .

. . 240

cxiv. 7, 8

327

ix. 10 . .

. . 232

xxvi. 22 .

• • 456

Ixv. 12

. . 234

cxiv. 7

427

ix. 18

. . 501

xxvi. 25 .

• • 350

Ixv. 15

. . 400

cxv. 4 .

391

X. 4

. . 448

xxvi. 27 .

• • 456

Ixvii. 7 .

■ . 451

cxv. 6 .

353

X. 12

• • 453

xxvii. 4

.442,488

Ixvii. 29 .

cxv. 7, 8

419

xi. 14

• • 309

xxvii. 15 .

. . 361

284,

327. 42S

cxv. 16, I

7 •

xi. 15

•305. 306

xxviii. 19 .

• 273. 365

Ixviii. 4 .

• 430

427, 499

xi. 22

• • 443

xxix. 5

• 456

Ixxviii. 20

• 283

cxvii. 6

. . 601

xi. 25

• • 257

xxix. 1 1 .

• • 459

Ixviii. 29 .

• 472

cxvii. 13

. 284, 326

xii. 5

. • 304

xxix. 19 .

• • 444

Ixix. 2

. 405

cxvii. 14

.284, 327

xii. 9

• • 538

xxix. 20 .

• • 439

Ixxi. 28 .

• 365

cxvii. 27

. . 578

xii. 10

• . 4'9

xxix. 22 .

. 258

Ixxii. 2-5 .

• 373

cxviii. I, 2

■ • 443

xii. 16

• ■ 459

XXX. 26 .

. . 408

Ixxii. 5

• 358

cxviii. 8

.214, 332

xii. 28

. . 262

xxxi. 3

• • 309

Ixxii. 28 .

. 522

cxviii. 1 1

• • 444

xiii. 4 .

•274, 532

xxxi. 6, 7 .

• . 444

Ixxiii. 19 . 204, 346

cxviii. 18

• . 326

xiii. 7 . .

• • 538

xxxi. 21 .

• 437

Ixxiii. 21 . 324, 407

cxviii. 19

. • 322

xiii. 8 . .

• • 324

xxxi. 25 .

. 274

Ixxvi. 5 • • • 459

cxviii. 28 .

.234, 267

xiii. 17

• . 419

Eccl. i. 9, 10 .

• • 383

Ixxvi. 6, 7 . . 304

cxviii. 31

■ • 365

xiv. 6 . .

. . 368

iii. .

. . 508

Ixxvii. 34, 35 . 321

cxviii. 32

• • 459

xiv. 7 .

• 355

iii. 14 .

■ • 385

Ixxix. 2 . . . 5S8

cxviii. 36

• • 427

xiv. 17

• • 257

iv. 6 . .

• • 537

Ixxx. 7 ... 357

cxviii. 60

• • 495

xiv. 23

V. 3 . .

• • 391

Ixxx. 10 . . . 585

cxviii. 71 .

• . 332

365,

444. 545

V. 4 . 230,

253. 391

Ixxx. 12, 13 (bis) 329

cxviii. 73

. . 5'S6

xiv. 26

• • 545

vii. 9 .

• • 459

Ixxx. 15 . . . 329

cxviii. 104

• • 439

xiv. 29

.459.485

vii. 10 .

• • 257

Ixxxi. 6 . 383, 561

cxviii. 106

. . 472

xiv. 33 .

• 444

vii. 21 522,

529. 530

Ixxxi. 7 . 378, 3S3

cxviii. 108

. . 213

XV. I . .

• 257

vii. 25. .

. . 386

Ixxxii. 19 . . 581

cxviii. 112

XV. 19

274, 542

vii. 29 . .

.363.428

Ixxxiii. 6 . . . 363

419, 427

XV. 27

. . 500

viii. II

312, 365

Ixxxiii. 8 . . . 420

cxviii. 120

• . 230

XV. 33

. 443

ix. II . .

• 434

Ixxxiv. 9 . . . 304

. cxviii. 125

• • 327

xvi. 4

• 417

X. 2 . .

. 488

Ixxxiv. 12 . . 581

cxviii. 147

,148

xvi. 5

.281,286

X. 4 . .

304, 367

Ixxxvii. 10 . . 429

14, 429, 514

xvi. 18

. . 361

X. II . .

• 313

Ixxxvii. 14 429, 574

cxviii. 164

. . 215

xvi. 25

• 305. 501

X. 15 . .

• 542

Ixxvii. 65 . . 25S

cxviii. 165

xvi. 26

■ . 365

X. 18 . .

. 361

Ixxxix. 17 284, 428

265, 355

xvi. 32 .

. . 485

xi. 2 .

. 217

xc. 5 . . . . 374

cxviii. 166

. . 430

xvii. 3 . .

• • 371

xii. 7 . .

. 3S6

xc. 6 . . 266, 374

cxix. I

. . 398

xvii. 6 .

• 544

Isa. i. 3 . .

. 578

xc. 7 . . . . 348

cxix. 62 .

. . 215

xvii. 16 ,

. 443

i. 6 . .

• 374

xc. II, 12 . .. 305

cxxvi. I

.282, 427

xvii. 28 .

• 333

i. 16-18 .

. 500

XC. 13 ...

cxxvi. 2

. . 2S2

xviii. 2

• 444

i. 16 . .

• 363

374, 602, 610

cxxvii. I

. . 420

xviii. 17 .

. 484

i. 19 . .

. 426

xciii. 10 . 326, 427

cxxviii. 8 .

. • 501

xix. 3 . .

• 543

i. 25, 26 .

• 371

xciii. II.. 304

cxxx. I, 2

. . 281

xix. 7 .

• 363

ii. 22 . .

. 581

xciii. 17 . 326, 419

cxxx. I, 2

. . 203

xix. 9 .

• 525

vi. 5 • •

. 529

xciii. 18 . . . 326

cxxx. 4

. . 258

xix. 10 .

• 444

vi. 6, 7 .

• 530

xciii. 19 . . . 326

cxxxii. I

. . 451

XX. 9 .

• 529

vi. 9 . .

. 429

xciii. 17-19 . . 285

cxxxii. 2

. 264, 442

XX. 10, II

. 5'2

vi. 10 . .

429. 445

xcviii. 4 . . . 512

cxxxviii. 2

3. 24 • 495

XX. 13 . .

242, 347

vii. 9 .

• 435

c. I, 2 . 281, 439

cxxxix. 10

• • 369

XX. 17. .

. 466

vii. 14

• 555

ci. I . . . . 397

cxi. 2 .

. 214, 400

XX. 23 . .

• 512

viii. 20

• 385

ci. 7, 8 . 282 (bis)

cxi. 3 .

. • 427

xxi. 13

• 419

ix. 6, 7 .

. 608

482, 493

cxli. 4 .

. . 276

xxi. 25

• 532

X. 14 (bis) .

. 282

ci. 10 . . 397, 500

cxlii. 2

•397. 529

xxi. 30 .

. 368

xi. 2, 3 .

. 421

ci. 27, 28. 360, 521

cxiiii. 5

. • 587

xxi. 31 .

• 327

xi. 8 . .

. 602

ciii. 15 ...

cxiiii. 10

. . 326

xxii. 5

. 542

xii. I . . .

• 358

309, 444, 525

cxiiv. 16

• • 327

xxii. 20 . .

. 438

xiii. 12

. 304

ciii. 18 ... 408

cxiv. 2

• • 532

xxiii. 1,2.

• 307

xiii. 21, 22 .

• 374

ciii. 21 . .

• 369

cxiv. 8

• . 427

xxiii. 9

. 444

xiv. 12 . .

.\ 378

civ. 16, 17

. 428

cxlvii. 12

. . 438

xxiii. 21 .

• 273

xiv. 13 281 (

bis), 282

cv. 40 . . .

. 258

cl. 6 .

• . 301

xxiii. 33-35 ■

. 501

342, 378

cvi. 2, 4-6 .

. 4S2

Prov. ii. 20

. . 542

xxiii. 35 .

• 524

xiv. 14

281, 342

cvi. 19

. 321

iii. 9 .

•503. 512

xxiv. 3. 4. .

• 309

378,

386, 577

cvi. 20

• 573

iii. 10 .

■ • 503

xxiv. II.

315,466

xiv. 15 . .

• 577

cvi. 33 sq.

. 416

iv. 23 .

4271

xxiv. I

) •

• 444

xxv. 9 . . .

. 608

638

JOHN CASSIAN.

PAGE

Isa. xxvi. 15 . . . 354

Jer. iv. 14 . . . 363, 427

Hos. vii. 15 . . . 430

Cant. V. 10 . . . 615

xxix. 9

• . 389

V. 3 .

• ■ 358

ix. 12 .

• 525

2 Mace. vi. 2 . , . 377

XXX. 18

• • 430

V. 21 .

• 429. 443

X. 12 .4

9. 443

S. Matt. i. I . . . 610

XXX. 19

.426, 428

vi. 16 .

• • 543

xi. 4 .

• 577

i. 5 .... 465

XXX. 23

• • 444

vi. 29, 30

■ • 358

xiv. 9 .

. 326

1. 20 . . .597,611

XXX. 26 .

. . 521

viii. 4 .

• • 423

xiv. 10

• 542

1. 21 ... . 57S

xxxi. 9

. . 516

viii. 5 .

•423, 425

Joel i. 5 .

. 389

111. 2, 7 ... 557

xxxiii. 6 .

. 421

viii. 17

488, 489

ii. 10, II

• 364

11. 2 ... . 499

xxxiv. 13, 15

374. 602

viii. 22

. . 324

ii. 13 .

• 354

iii. 4 . . . . 201

xxxiv. 14 .

. . 602

ix. I .

• • 397

Amos i. I .

. 351

iii. 14 ... . 608

XXXV. 3

■ . 430

ix. 4 .

• • 456

iii. 6 .

• 354

iii. 16 ... . 570

XXXV. 10 .

• • 300

ix. 5 .

456, 519

iv. II .

. 358

iii. 17 . . .570, 60S

xxxvii. 25 (b

s) . 282

ix. 8 .

• 456

viii. 9 .

. 260

iv. 3 . . . 340, 539

xl. 4 . .

• • 543

X. 23 .

• 326

Jonah iii. 4

. 471

iv. 6 . . . .

xl. 9 . .

. . 608

X. 24 .

• 358

iii. 8 .

. 202

305, 342, 539

xl. 12 . .

. . 258

xi. II .

• 354

iii. 10 .

• 354

iv. 8 . . . . 342

xlii. 18, 19

. . 429

xii. I, 2

• 373

Micah ii. 7 .

.■46

S. 542

V. 3 ....

xliii. 8

. . 429

xiv. 12

• 509

ii. II .

• 394

324, 397, 407, 504

xliii. 25 499 (bis) 500

XV. 7 .

• • 358

vii. 5 .

. 400

V. S ....

xliii. 26 . 499, 500

xvii. 5 .

532, 585

Nahum i. 15

• 513

263, 299, 43S

xliv. 22 . . . 499

xvii. 13

• 472

Hab. i. 16 .

. 281

V. 14 . . . .

xlv. 2, 3 .

234

xvii. 16 2

04,

490, 533

ii. 15, 16

• 456

230, 479. 540

xlv. 6, 7 .

354

xvii. 18

• 369

iii. 2 .

• 459

V. 16 . . . . 394

xlv. 9 . .

603

xvii. 21

• 427

Zeph. i. 12

352

V. 19 . . . . 439

xlv. 14, 15

581

xviii. 7, ic

• 471

Hagg. i. 6 .

• 537

V. 22 . . . .

xlvi. 10 .

394

xviii. 15

• 542

Zech. i. 14 .

• 304

260, 263 (bis), 452

xlviii. 9 .

345

xxvi. 2, 3

• 471

ix. 17 .

. 328

V. 23, 24

xlix. 6 .

420

XXX. I I

• 358

xii. 8 .

. 364

261, 452, 455

xlix. 15 .

434

xxxi. 16

• 499

Mai. i. 6 .

8, 421

V. 37 . . 463, 466

1.1,2. .

526

xxxii. 39, 40

• 328

ii. 17 .

352

V. 39, 40 . 376, 3S6

1.4 . .

315

XXXV. 6, 7, IC

) • 504

iii. 2, 3

602

457 (Ijis), 576

1. II . .

542

xlviii. 10 .

iii. 6 .

360

V. 43-45 ... 272

H. 3 . •

300

230,

501, 512

iii. S .

6, 604

V. 44 . . . .

lii. I . .

273

li. 8, 9 .

• 374

iii. 14, 15

352

386, 419, 454

lii. 2 . .

427

Lam. ii. 18

• 397

iv. 2 .

260

V. 45 . . . . 419

lii. 6 . .

576

iii. 27, 28

482, 493

Wisdom i. 4, 5

5. 443

V. 48 . . . , 417

liii. 7 . .

400

Ezck. i. 19, 20

• 427

i. II .

464

vi. 2 . . . . 469

liii. 8 . .

610

xi. 19, 20

.. 32S

i. 13 .

425

vi. 12 . . . 500, 530

Iv. II . .

525

xiii. 9 .

• 472

ii. 24, 25

488

vi. 14 . . . . 500

Ivii. 15

5S1

xvi. 3 .

• 322

iv. 8, 9

313

vi. iS, 3 . . . 469

Iviii. 3, 13, 14

xvi. 42

• 358

vii. I .

281

vi. 19 ... . 306

492, 509, 545

xvi. 49

235. 521

vii. 17-21

384

vi. 21 . . . . 304

Iviii. 3-9 . . 39S, 509

xvi. 52

• 521

ix. 15 .

363

vi. 22 (bis) . . 309

Iviii. 6, 9 .

398, 509

xviii. 25

• 543

X. I

281

vi. 23 . 309 (bis), 522

Iviii. II, 12

• 442

xviii. 31

. 426

xi. 17 .

542

vi. 24 .... 253

Iviii. 13, 14

492, 545

XX. 25 .

517. 521

Ecclus. ii. I

231

vii. I, 2 . . . 244

lix. I, 2 .

. 526

XX. 43, 44

• 434

ii. 5 .

371

vii. 3-5 •• • 259

Ix. 1 7-20 .

. 301

xxiv. II-13

■ 358

"i- 33 •

499

vii. 6. . . .

Ixi. 3 . .

• 234

xxviii. 11-18 . 378

xi. 30 .

360

372, 373, 444

Ixi. 8 . .

. 512

xxix. 3 . . . 282

XV. 9 .

443

vii. 7 . . . . 2S4

Ixiv. I . .

587, 5S8

xxxiii. II (bis) . 423

xxiii. 29

273

vii. II ... 521

Ixiv. 5, 6 .

521, 529

xxxiii. 13-16 . 472

XXV. 5

313

vii. 14 . . . 232

Ixv. 2 . . .

• 330

xxxiii. 14, 15 . 471

xxvii. II

355

vii. 18 . . . 521

Ixv. 24

. 426

xliv. 2 (bis) . . 616

xxix. 6

234

vii. 22, 23 . .

Ixvi. I

. 258

Dan. iii. 6 .

. 23S

xxix. 15

398

445, 448

Ixvi. 18 263

363, 464

iii. 86 . .

■ .301

xxxii. 20 .

444

vii. 24, 59 . . 4S5

Ixvi. 23

300, 513

v. 2 . .

• 199

xxxiii. 16

521

vii. 29

• . 613

Ixvi. 24 .

• 373

vi. 10 .

. 213

xxxiii. 29

274

viii. 3 .

• • 432

Ixv. 17, 18 .

• 300

ix. 27 . .

• 377

xxxiv. 1 1 .

395

viii. 8 .

• . 432

Ixvi. 2.

. 290

X. 2 sq. .

• 399

xxxix. 16 .

521

viii. 9 .

• • 363

Jcr. i. 5 . . .

386, 576

X. 5 . .

• 304

1.24 . .

515

viii. 7-10

• • 431

i. 10 . . .

• 436

X. 12-14 .

• 380

Baruch iii. 37 .

581

viii. 13

•432, 433

i. 18, 19 . .

485, 543

X. 20, 21

• 380

iii. I . .

234

viii.' 21 sq

• . 505

ii. II . . .

• 403

xii. I .

• 380

iii. II . .

5. 364

viii. 31

• • 370

ii. 18 . . .

• 542

xii. 3 .

• 439

iii. 37, 38 .

578

ix. 2-6

• • 433

ii. 19 . 525,

528, 542

Hos. ii. 5-7 .

. 426

Cant. i. 3 (bis) .

240

ix. 4 .

• 304. 363

ii. 30 . . .

• 358

iv. 6 . .

• 443

i. 16 . . .

264

ix. 6 .

. . 613

iii. 6 . . .

• 440

iv. 12 . .

374, 441

ii. 4 . .

454

ix. 14 .

• • 5"

iii. II . . .

. 521

vii. 9 .

314. 536

ii. 6 . .

357

ix. 15 .

.242, 511

iii. 19, 20

. 426

vii. 12 . .

• 359

iii. I . .

430

ix. 29 .

• • 433

iv. 3 . . .

338

vii. 13

• 525

v. 6 . .

430

x. 8 .

■445.613

■IP

INDEX OF TEXTS.

639

PAI.E

TAGH

I'ACiK

l-ACK

S. Malt. X. 9 . . . 541

S. M.itt. xxv. 31 . . 615

S. Luke xxi. 34 . . 388

S. John XV. 14, 15 . 420

x. 10 . . .270, 541

xxv. 34 . . 299, 394

xxii. 31, 32 . . 327

XV. 15 . . . . 421

X. 20 . . . . 304

xxv. 35 . . 299, 308

xxii. 36 . . . 376

XV. 19 . . .

■ 322

X. 23 . . . . 376

XXV. 3() . . . 308

xxii. 48 . . . 456

xvi. 15 . .

417. 544

X. 36 . . . . 4S7

xxvi. 24 . .353,463

xxiii. 29 . . . 576

xvi. 20 . .

• 30'

X. 38 . . . 230, 376

XXVI. 39 . 393, 399,

xxiii. 34 . .393, 419

xvii. 3 . .

• 574

X. 42 . . . . 299

400, 452, 541, 545

xxiii. 40 . . . 283

xvii. 4, 19

• 393

xi. 12 . . .365, 545

XXVI. 41 . . . 422

xxiii. 43 . . . 301

xvii. 16 . .

. 322

xi. 14 . . . . 377

xxvi. S3 . . . 282

xxiv. 39 . . ■. 569

xvii. 22-24

• 404

xi. 25, 26 . . 393

xxvii. 42 , . . 609

S. jMl)ni.3. • -37^.574

xvii. 24 .

• 393

xi. 28-30 . . .

S. Mark vi. 5, 6 .433, 445

i. II . . .575. 578

xvii. 26, 21

• 404

425, 427, 448, 543

ix. 23 . . . . 327

i- '4 • 333. 552, 597

xix. 1 1

• 370

xi. 29 .

X. 29, 30 . . . 544

i. 15 . . . . 601

XX. 17 .

. 614

282, 495, 542

xi. 24 . . . . 398

i. 17 . . . . 558

XX. 28 . . .

569. 599

XI. 30 . . . . 541

xvi. 17 ... 613

i. 29 . . . 578, 608

.\ctsi. I. . .

393. 439

xii. 20 • • • 315

S. Luke i. 14 . . . 353

i. 32 . . ."611, 613

i. 2. . .

611, 614

.xii. 35 • • • 521

i. 35 • • • •

ii. 19 . . . . 400

ii. 14-18 .

• 213

xii. 40 . . . 601

341, 554 (bis), 560

ii. 23 . . . . 598

ii. 45 . .

. 480

xii. 43-45 . . 350

ii. II . . . .

iii.,6 .... 597

iii. I . .

. 214

xiii. 13 . .429, 523

557. 573. 578

iii. 13 . 302, 574, 587,

iii. 6 . .

433, 612

xiii. 17 ... 5S7

iii.6 .... 333

600, 604, 614

iii. 12 . .

. 448

xiv. 14 . . . 433

iv. 6 . . (bis) 282

iii. 17 . . . . 573

iii. 15 . .

. 604

xiv. 21 . . . 516

iv. 9, 10 . .341, 610

iii. 27 .... 427

iii. 19 . .

• 499

XV. II ... 510

iv. 23 . . . 259, 458

iv. 34 .... 273

iv. 13 . .

• 444

XV. 14 . . . 338

iv. 27 ... . 445

iv. 4,S-5o ... 433

IV. 32-34 •

. 206

XV. 19 ... 520

vi. 24 ... . 324

iv. 50 .... 613

iv. 32 . .

XV. 28 . . . 433

vi. 25 ... . 301

v. 6 ... 432, 433

206, 452,

480, 577

XV. 32 . . . 427

vi. 48 .... 387

V. 6-8 ... 433

iv. 34. 35 •

206, 480

xvi. 4 ... 570

vii. 14 . . . . 613

V. 14 . . . . 358

v. . . .

. . 256

xvi. 16 ...

vii. 47 .... 392

V. 22, 23 . . . 565

V. 3 • •

• 304

56S, 599, 608

i>^- 23 . . . . 533

V. 30 . 2S2 (bis), 2S4

vii. 39, 40

• 323

xvi. 25 . . . 504

IX. 49, 50. . . 448

V. 44 . . . . 278

vii. 51 . .

• 423

xvi. 26 . . . 541

ix. 62 .

vi. 27 ... . 273

viii. 22, 23

• • 429

xvii. 19 . . . 398

231, 253, 256

vi. 33 • ■ • 525. 526

ix. 6 . .

. 316

xvii. 20 . . . 399

X. 19 . . . .

vi. 3S . 452, 492, 545

ix. 34 . .

. . 612

xviii. 3 . . . 206

374,602, 613

VI. 44 . - . .426, 427

X. II sq. .

. . 213

xviii. 8 . . . 305

X. 20 . . . .

vi. 62 .... 587

xii. 8 . .

. 201

xviii. 10 . . . 381

448, 449, 472

vi. 63 . . . 574, 600

xii. 15. .

. . 382

xviii. II . . . 399

X. 40-42 . . . 298

vii. 18. . . . 393

xiv. 22

. . 232

xviii. 14 . . . 425

X. 41, 42 . . . 520

vii. 37 .... 430

XV. 10, II

558, 584

xviii. 19 . . . 398

xi. 8 . . . . 398

viii. 34 . .239,516

XV. 20 .

• • 254

xix. 6 .... 586

xi. 9, 10 . . . 399

viii. 35 ... 421

XV. 29 .

. . 481

xix. 12 ... 506

xi. 15 . . . . 380

viii. 40, 42 . . 584

xvi. 18

. . 612

xix. 21 . 253, 256,

xi. 19 . . . . 381

viii. 44 . . . 322,

xvii. 23, 29

. . 468

320, 323, 376,

xi. 20 . . . . 611

381.383. 386 (bis)

xviii. 1-3 .

. . 272

504, 505, 521

xii. 20 . . . . 25.7

viii. 55 . . . 282

XX. 28 . .

. . 604

xix. 27 . . . 325

xii. 32 . . . . 232

viii. 58 . . 584, 593

XX. 29, 30

■ • 441

xix. 28 . . .

xii. 35 • • ■ 204, 376

ix. 3 . . . . 358

XX. 33-35

. . 272

301, 325, 583

xii. 47. . . . 418

x. iS . 214, 399, 587

XX. 34 . .

xix. 29 . . .

xii. 49 . . . . 545

xi.4 • • • • 358

203, 272, 522, 53b

504, 506, 543

xii. 57. ... 429

xi. 26 . . . . 322

XX. 35 253, 272, 288

XX. 1-6 . . . 214

xiv. 19 sq. . . 324

xi. 27 . 567, 599, 608

xxi. 1 1

. 202

XX. 16. . . . 232

xiv. 26 507, 516. 532

xi. 40 . . . . 432

xxi. 20-24

• 467

XX. 28 . . . . 399

xiv. 28 . . . 387

xi. 41, 42 . . 393

xxvi. 12-15

• • 563

XX. 31 . . . . 329

xiv. 31, 32 . . 253

xii. 26 . .301, 501

Rom. i. 20 .

. . 521

XX. 32. . . . 432

XV. 17-19 . .417

xii. 32 . . . . 214

i. 23 . .

• 403

xxi. 13 ... 602

xvi. 9 • • • • 353

xiii. 2 . . . 304, 367

i. 26, 28 .

xxi. 22 (Ijis). . 399

xvi. 12 ... 324

xiii. 8 . . . . 462

286,

329. 358

xxii. 14 . .. . 323

xvi. 19 sq. . . 301

xiii. 23 . .454,530

i. 28 . .

•

xxii. 31, 32 . . 301

xvi. 20 . . . 353

xiii. 27 ... 304

286, 329,

358, 4S9

xxiii. 3, 4 . . 439

xvi. 25 . . . 532

xiii. 34, I

ii. 5 . .

• • 373

xxiii. 37 . . . 420

xvi. 26 . . . 320

385, 448, 454

ii. 6 . .

. 426

. 428

xxiv. 13 . . . 231

xvii. 5 .... 377

xiii. 35 . .448, 452

ii. 14-16 .

xxiv. 15 sq. . . 377
xxiv. 18 . . . 231

xvii. 10 ... 417

xiv. 2 . . . . 420

ii. 15 . .

xvii. 20 . . . 300

xiv. 6 . . . • 581

263, 363,

464, 473

xxiv. 24 . . . 446

xvii. 21 , . 300,487

xiv. 10 282 (bis) 284

ii. 15, 16 .

363. 464
. . 5-8

xxiv. 35 . • • 569

xvii. 31 . . . 256

xiv. 23 240, 304, 581

263,

xxiv. 45 . , . 420

xviii. 19 . . . 521

xiv. 30 360, 374. 539

ii. 28, 29 .

xxiv. 46 . . . 420

xviii. 42 . . . 433

XV. 4 (bis) . . 328

iii. 23 . .

• 425

xxv. 21 . . . 521

xix. 10 . . . 575

XV. 5 . . . . 282

iv. 5 . .

• • 525

• 454.516

XXV. 27 . . . 444

xix. 17, 19 . . 301

XV. 13 . . . . 420

V. 5 . .

Date Due

%\*^-

>,^R 1 1 '48

L. B. Cat. Nc. 1 137

WELLESLEY COLLEGE LIBRARY

3 5002 03044 4355

BR 60 . S42 1890 11

A Select library of Nicene
and poet-Nlcene fathers of

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